diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-8.txt | 19353 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-8.zip | bin | 386112 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h.zip | bin | 950524 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/52242-h.htm | 22575 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 30068 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/p004.jpg | bin | 76781 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/p048.jpg | bin | 66947 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/p113.jpg | bin | 68675 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/p142.jpg | bin | 75608 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/p152.jpg | bin | 27218 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/p200.jpg | bin | 58571 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/p290.jpg | bin | 64282 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242-h/images/p402.jpg | bin | 84118 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242.txt | 19353 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52242.zip | bin | 384541 -> 0 bytes |
18 files changed, 17 insertions, 61281 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..836ec2c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52242 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52242) diff --git a/old/52242-8.txt b/old/52242-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index db0fb37..0000000 --- a/old/52242-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,19353 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life of Tolstoy: First Fifty Years, by -Aylmer Maude - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: The Life of Tolstoy: First Fifty Years - Fifth Edition - - -Author: Aylmer Maude - - - -Release Date: June 5, 2016 [eBook #52242] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY: FIRST FIFTY -YEARS*** - - -E-text prepared by Carlos Colón and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -the Google Books Library Project (http://books.google.com) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 52242-h.htm or 52242-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/52242/52242-h/52242-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/52242/52242-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - the Google Books Library Project. See - https://books.google.com/books?id=PjJGAAAAYAAJ - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). - - A carat character is used to denote superscription. - Superscripted characters are enclosed by curly brackets - following a carat character (example: M^{me}). - - Small uppercase have been replaced with regular uppercase. - - - - - -THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY - -FIRST FIFTY YEARS - - -[Illustration: _Portrait of Tolstoy when commencing Anna Karénina, -1873, by Kramskóy._] - - -THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY - -FIRST FIFTY YEARS - -by - -AYLMER MAUDE - - - 'A man so various that he seemed to be - Not one, but all mankind's epitome.' - - DRYDEN - -Fifth Edition - - - - - - - -New York -Dodd, Mead and Company -1911 - -First Edition September 1908 -Second Edition October 1908 -Third Edition September 1910 -Fourth Edition January 1911 -Fifth Edition April 1911 - - - - - PREFACE - - -THE reason I have written this work is because so many among us are -interested in Tolstoy and so few seem to understand him. It would seem -therefore that an English Life of Tolstoy is needed, and having lived -in Russia for twenty-three years, known Tolstoy well for several years, -visited him frequently in Moscow, and stayed with him repeatedly at -Yásnaya Polyána, I am perhaps as well qualified as any one to write -it, especially as I have long made a careful study of his views. My -wife and I have translated several of his works, have known people -closely connected with him, and some ten years ago we took part in -an unsuccessful 'Tolstoy' Colony; besides which I went to Canada at -his wish to make arrangements for the Doukhobór migration, of which I -subsequently wrote the history. - -Moreover, I am impartial. That is to say, I have taken pains to -understand Tolstoy's views, and to see the good there is in them; but -being a Westerner, I see also certain things Tolstoy overlooks, and I -know that these things knock big holes in some of his most cherished -'principles.' - -The book has had the great advantage of being carefully revised by his -wife, the Countess S. A. Tolstoy, who both verbally and in writing has -rendered me most valuable assistance. - -I owe sincere thanks also to my friend P. I. Birukóf, Tolstoy's Russian -biographer. He modestly speaks of his own work as 'a collection of -those materials for the biography of Leo Tolstoy which are accessible -to me.' I have no hesitation in saying that his care and integrity in -gathering and using those materials, entitle him to the gratitude of -all who deal with the same subject. - -There is one small matter of typography which needs a word of -explanation. I have sought to tell as much of the story as possible -in Tolstoy's own words, and have also had occasion to quote other -writers. At times the Russian text quoted contains allusions or -expressions which might perplex an English reader unless a word or -two of explanation were added. To introduce paragraphs of explanation -would interrupt the narrative, besides lengthening the book. To have -recourse to frequent footnotes in cases where two or three words of -explanation are all that is required is unsightly and unsatisfactory; -so I have adopted the plan of using square brackets [ ] to enclose such -explanations. The ordinary round parentheses ( ) I have kept for their -common use, and for cases where, for clearness' sake, words are added -that are not contained in the original. - -Beyond indicating the varying value of sums of money mentioned, I have -not troubled the reader with the fluctuations of the rouble, which -went from over 38 pence before the Crimean war, to 19 pence after the -Russo-Turkish war of 1878. If he wants a concise history of the Russian -currency, he can find it in the preface to my edition of _Sevastopol_. - -In that as in other matters I have tried to be accurate without being -pedantic. It is Tolstoy and his views that I aim at presenting to -English readers; and I have kept in the background, as far as I could, -the obstacles resulting from the Tower of Babel. - - AYLMER MAUDE. - - GREAT BADDOW, - CHELMSFORD, _20th August 1910_. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PREFACE v - - NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION OF RUSSIAN NAMES xiii - - I. ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE 1 - - II. YOUTH AND EARLY MANHOOD 16 - - III. THE CAUCASUS 59 - - IV. THE CRIMEAN WAR 93 - - V. PETERSBURG; LOVE AFFAIR; DROUZHÍNIN 138 - - VI. TRAVELS ABROAD 166 - - VII. AT YÁSNAYA AGAIN; TOURGÉNEF; ARBITER; MAGAZINE 214 - - VIII. THE SCHOOL 246 - - IX. MARRIAGE 282 - - X. NEARING THE CRISIS 329 - - XI. CONFESSION 399 - - XII. WORKS: 1852-1878 427 - - CHRONOLOGY 450 - - INDEX 457 - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - PORTRAIT OF TOLSTOY WHEN COMMENCING _Anna Karénina_, - 1873. By Kramskóy _Frontispiece_ - - _Facing page_ - - TOLSTOY IN 1848, AFTER LEAVING THE UNIVERSITY 48 - - MAP OF SEVASTOPOL 113 - - PROMINENT RUSSIAN WRITERS, 1856: TOURGÉNEF, SOLOGOÚB, - TOLSTOY, NEKRÁSOF, GRIGORÓVITCH, AND PANÁEF 142 - - TOLSTOY IN 1856, THE YEAR HE LEFT THE ARMY 152 - - TOLSTOY IN 1860, THE YEAR HIS BROTHER NICHOLAS DIED 200 - - TOLSTOY IN 1862, THE YEAR OF HIS MARRIAGE 290 - - TOLSTOY'S LIBRARY, SHOWING THE WOODEN CROSSPIECE FROM - WHICH HE WISHED TO HANG HIMSELF 402 - - - - - NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION OF - RUSSIAN NAMES - - -The spelling of Russian names in Latin letters in a work of this kind, -presents great difficulties. To begin with, we have as yet (though it -is much needed) no accepted method of transliteration from Russian -into English; and though it is not difficult for any one to frame -or select his own system of transliteration--as I have done for my -translations--this does not entirely meet the case when one has to deal -with the names of people, many of whom have adopted a spelling of their -own. - -On the one hand, a man has a right to decide how he will have his own -name spelt; but on the other hand, the inclusion of a dozen different -systems of transliteration in one book, is apt to create confusion. - -I have had to do the best I could under the circumstances. To pronounce -the names correctly, in accord with the system of transliteration I -have adopted, the reader should note the following: - - I. Lay stress on the syllable marked with an accent. - - II. Vowel sounds are broad and open: - - _a_ as in f_a_ther. - _e_ as _a_ in f_a_te. - - But _e_ initial and unaccented is pronounced _ye_. - - _i_ as _ee_ in m_ee_t. - _o_ as in l_o_ch. - _u_ as _you_. - - In diphthongs the broad sounds are retained: - - _ou_ as _oo_ in b_oo_t. - _ya_ as in _ya_rd. - _ye_ as in _ye_s. - _yo_ as in _yo_re. - _ay_ as _eye_. - _ey_ as in th_ey_. - _oy_ as in b_oy_. - - III. _y_ with a vowel forms a diphthong; _y_ at the end of a - word, after a consonant, sounds something like _ie_ in hyg_ie_ne. - - IV. Consonants: - - _G_ is hard, as in _g_o. - _Zh_ is like _z_ in a_z_ure. - _R_ is sounded strongly, as in _r_ough, ba_rr_en. - _S_ is sharp, as in _s_eat, pa_ss_. - -Where I know of a spelling deliberately adopted by the owner of a name, -I have felt bound to follow it. For instance, the name which under my -system of transliteration I should have spelt 'Suhotín,' appears in -the book as Soohoteén, but in such cases, on the first occasion on -which the name occurs, I have given my usual transliteration in square -brackets. - -I hope the day is not distant when some system will be generally agreed -upon in this matter. Any system would be better than the present -anarchy. - - - - - CHAPTER I - - ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE - -Ancestors. Count Peter. Russian titles. Tolstoy's grandfather and -father. His maternal grandfather and mother. First recollections. Aunty -Tatiána. Antecedents. - - -1353 - -IN the annals of the Russian nobility it is recorded that a man named -Idris came from 'the lands of Cćsar,' that is to say, from the Holy -Roman Empire, in the year 1353 with two sons and 3000 followers, and -settling at Tchernígof in Little Russia was received with favour by -the reigning Grand Duke, who granted him much land. A great-grandson -of this Idris, Andrew by name, migrated to Moscow, where he was well -received by the reigning Grand Duke Vasíly, who conferred upon him the -surname of Tolstóy. - - -1645 - -As, however, the annals of the Russian nobility were to a large extent -concocted in the reign of Peter the Great, it is extremely doubtful -whether this story is reliable. Be that as it may, it is certain that -Peter Tolstoy, born in 1645, was a Russian who distinguished himself -in the service of the State. During the struggles which preceded -the acquisition of power by Peter the Great, he made the mistake of -allying himself with that autocrat's ambitious half-sister, Sophia. -The defeat of her Guards, the Streltsí, caused him quickly to transfer -his allegiance to Peter, whose favour he eventually managed to secure. -When drinking with his chosen companions in later days, the Tsar would -often pat Tolstoy's head, saying, 'Little head, little head, had you -been less wise, you would have come off your shoulders long ago.' - - -1697, 1716, 1717 - -This Peter Tolstoy held a commission in the Guards, and fought in -the Azof campaign of 1696; but later on he went abroad to study -shipbuilding when Peter the Great was seeking volunteers for that -purpose. He was sent in 1701 as Ambassador to the Sublime Porte, and -in the years 1710-1713, when political affairs were critical, he twice -suffered severe imprisonment in the Seven Towers--the stronghold -wherein the Sultan occasionally confined the ambassadors of States -with whose conduct he felt dissatisfied. Returning to Russia in 1714, -Tolstoy obtained the favour of Prince Ménshikof and became a Minister -of State. He married; but his wife does not appear to have been of -sufficient importance for any one to have said anything about her. He -accompanied Peter the Great to Holland and France, and rendered him -an important though discreditable service. Peter the Great's son, the -refractory Alexis, who disliked his father's reforms, had escaped from -Russia and was living with his mistress Euphrosyne at St. Elmo, near -Naples. By threats and promises, and by the aid of this woman, Tolstoy -induced the unfortunate Tsarévitch to return to Russia, and when he had -got him there, took a leading part in his trial and secret execution. - - -30 Aug. 1725 - -For this service Tolstoy received large estates and was promoted to the -headship of the Secret Chancellery. On the day of the coronation of -Peter's second wife, Catherine, Tolstoy was made a Count. His coat of -arms shows seven towers, in memory of his imprisonment by the Sultan, -and is appropriately supported by two wolf-hounds rampant, looking -outwards. - - -6 May 1727, 1729 - -On the death of Peter the Great, Tolstoy actively supported Ménshikof -in securing the throne for Catherine the First, and he was one of the -seven members of the Upper Secret Council which practically ruled -Russia. On the question of choosing a successor to Catherine, he -ventured however to oppose Ménshikof. The latter was too powerful for -him; and forfeiting his title of Count and deprived of all offices -rewards and estates, Tolstoy, at the age of eighty-two, was banished -for life to the Solovétz Monastery, situated on an island in the White -Sea. Here, two years later, he died. Ménshikof himself, one may remark -in passing, finished his life that same year in Siberia, having been -banished by an order signed by the boy he had placed on the throne. To -be a Russian Minister of State in those days was almost as dangerous as -it is in our times to be a revolutionary conspirator. - -The title of Count was revived in the family in 1770, for the benefit -of Peter Tolstoy's grandson; whose son, Count Elias Tolstoy (he figures -in _War and Peace_ as the elder Count Rostóf), was the grandfather of -Leo Tolstoy, whose life this book narrates. - -There is one matter which it may be as well to explain at the outset, -as English readers are so often puzzled by it: I refer to the nature -of Russian titles of nobility. The only really Russian title is that -of _Knyaz_, commonly translated 'Prince.' It is borne by descendants -of Rúrik, by descendants of the Lithuanian Prince Ghedimin, and -by descendants of various Tartar Khans whose dominions Russia has -annexed. It has also been conferred by Imperial Decree on a dozen or -more other Russian families. Though _Knyaz_ is translated 'Prince,' -_Velíky Knyaz_, curiously enough, is not translated 'Great Prince,' but -'Grand Duke,' and this indicates how difficult it is to find suitable -equivalents for these titles. Not till the time of Peter the Great were -the German titles, Count (_Graf_) and Baron, introduced into Russia. -Both of these are now common among the Russo-German landlords of the -Baltic Provinces; and less so among real Russians. - -It must be borne in mind that there is no law of primogeniture in -Russia. Each son and daughter inherits the family title, so that there -are usually several, and sometimes many, people with equal rights to -use the same title. Though springing from one stock, they may be only -distantly connected. There are for instance other Counts Tolstoy, -contemporaries of Leo Tolstoy and distant cousins of his. One of these, -the poet Count Alexis Tolstoy, was a well-known author and dramatist. -Another, the reactionary Count Dmítry Tolstoy, was successively Head of -the Holy Synod, Minister of Education, and Minister of the Interior. - -Tolstoy's grandfather already mentioned, Count Elias Tolstoy, was an -easy-going generous trustful and extravagant man, who married a wealthy -Princess Gortchakóf, but ran through her money and his own, and at -last to secure a means of livelihood, procured the post of Governor -of Kazán. This he was able to do, thanks to his family influence. It -is recorded to his credit that, contrary to the general custom of the -time, he accepted no bribes (except from the Government contractor, who -was considered the natural financial prop of a Provincial Governor), -though his wife accepted presents without his knowledge. - -Their eldest daughter married a Count Osten-Saken. She became guardian -of Leo Tolstoy and of his brothers and sister, after they had lost -their parents. Another daughter married V. I. Úshkof. Leo Tolstoy was -under her charge when he lived in Kazán and studied at its University. - -The first fact known to us about his father, Count Nicholas Tolstoy, is -characteristic of the manners of his class and day. When he was only -sixteen, his parents arranged a _liaison_ between him and a peasant -girl, such connections being considered necessary for the health of -young men. A son was born, and Tolstoy records his 'strange feeling of -consternation when (in after years) this brother of mine, fallen into -destitution and bearing a greater resemblance to my father than any of -us, used to beg help of us, and was thankful for the ten or fifteen -roubles we used to give him.' - - -1812, 1814 - -Nicholas Tolstoy was not yet seventeen when Napoleon invaded Russia; -but in spite of his parents' efforts to dissuade him, he insisted on -entering the army, and thanks to his mother's family influence, quickly -obtained an appointment as Adjutant to Prince Andrew Gortchakóf, a -General in command. He went through the campaigns of 1813 and 1814; and -in the latter year he and his orderly, while on their way to rejoin the -Russian army in Germany, after taking despatches to Petersburg, were -captured by the French. The orderly managed to hide his master's gold -coins in his boots, and for months never risked taking them off, though -his feet grew sore and he suffered extreme discomfort. Thanks to this -devotion, Nicholas Tolstoy, after reaching Paris, was able to live in -comfort. - -Having attained the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, he left the army when -the war was over, and, disillusioned with military service, returned -to Kazán, where his father (completely ruined by that time) was still -Governor. - - -1820 - -In 1820 Count Elias died, leaving his estate so encumbered that his son -declined to accept the inheritance. The young man had to face the task -of providing for his old mother, who was accustomed to great luxury, -as well as for his sister and a distant cousin, Tatiána Alexándrovna -Érgolsky, who had been adopted into the family; and so a marriage was -arranged for him with the wealthy but plain Princess Marie Volkónsky, -who was no longer very young. - -His father's life, Tolstoy tells us, was then - - passed in attending to the estate, a business in which he was not - very expert, but in which he exercised a virtue great for those - days: he was not cruel, but perhaps even lacked firmness. During - his lifetime I never heard of corporal punishment. If it ever was - administered to the serfs, the cases were so rare and my father - took so little part in them, that we children never heard them - mentioned. It was after his death that I learnt, for the first - time, that such punishment ever took place at home. - - Like most men who served in the army in the early years of - Alexander's reign, he [Count Nicholas Tolstoy] was not what is - now called a Liberal, but out of self-respect he considered it - impossible to serve during the latter [reactionary] part of - Alexander's reign, or under Nicholas. During all my childhood and - youth, our family had no intimate relations with any Government - official. I, of course, understood nothing about this in childhood, - but I understood that my father never humbled himself before any - one, nor altered his brisk, merry, and often chaffing tone. This - feeling of self-respect, which I witnessed in him, increased my - love and admiration for him. - -Leo Tolstoy's mother's family, the Volkónskys, were descended from -Rúrik (the first ruler mentioned in Russian history) as well as from -St. Michael the martyr, Prince of Tchernígof; and through them, even -more than on his father's side, Tolstoy is connected with many of the -leading families of the Russian aristocracy. Prince Nicholas Volkónsky, -his mother's father, came into conflict with the most powerful of the -favourites of Catherine the Great, for Tolstoy tells us that: - - Having attained the high position of Commander-in-Chief, he lost - it suddenly by refusing to marry Potémkin's niece and mistress, - Varvára Engelhardt. To Potémkin's suggestion that he should do so, - he replied: 'What makes him think I will marry his strumpet?' - -He married instead, a Princess Catherine Troubetskóy, and after -retiring from the service, settled down on his estate at Yásnaya -Polyána. His wife soon died, leaving him only one surviving child, a -daughter, Tolstoy's mother. Tolstoy writes of this grandfather: - - He was regarded as a very exacting master, but I never heard any - instance of his being cruel or inflicting the severe punishments - usual in those days. I believe such cases did occur on his estate, - but the enthusiastic respect for his importance and cleverness - was so great among the servants and peasants whom I have often - questioned about him, that though I have heard my father condemned, - I have heard only praise of my grandfather's intelligence, business - capacity, and interest in the welfare both of the peasants and of - his enormous household. - -Later, a strange chance brought Prince Volkónsky again into touch with -Varvára Engelhardt, whom he had refused to marry. She married a Prince -Sergius Golítsin, who consequently received promotions and decorations -and rewards; and Tolstoy tells us: - - With this Sergius Golítsin and his family, my grandfather formed so - close a friendship that my mother from her childhood was betrothed - to one of his ten sons.... This alliance, however, was not destined - to be consummated, for the young man died prematurely of fever. - -In a portrait of Prince N. Volkónsky which has been preserved in the -family there is much that corresponds to Leo Tolstoy's own appearance. -'Both,' as his brother-in-law remarks, 'have high, open foreheads and -large organs of the creative faculty, and in both the organs of musical -talent are exceedingly prominent and are covered by thick, overhanging -eyebrows, from beneath which small, deep-set, grey eyes literally -pierce the soul of the man on whom they are turned.' - - -1822 - -Prince N. Volkónsky died in 1820, and two years later his daughter -married Count Nicholas Tolstoy. Of her Tolstoy tells us: - - I do not remember my mother. I was a year-and-a-half old when she - died. By some strange chance no portrait of her has been preserved, - so that as a real physical being I cannot picture her to myself. I - am in a way glad of this, for in my conception of her there is only - her spiritual figure, and all that I know about her is beautiful; - and I think this has come about not merely because all who spoke to - me of my mother tried to say only what was good, but because there - actually was much good in her. - -She was well educated, spoke five languages, played the piano well, -and had a wonderful gift for improvising tales in the most delightful -manner. It is said that at balls her young lady friends would leave -the dance and gather in a dark room to hear her tell a story, which -shyness induced her to do where she could not be seen. Tolstoy remarks -that 'her most valuable quality was that though hot-tempered, she was -yet self-restrained. "She would get quite red in the face and even -cry," her maid told me, "but would never say a rude word."' She had one -quality Tolstoy values very highly--that of never condemning any one. -It was a quality shared by her eldest son, Nicholas; and Leo Tolstoy -says: - - In the _Lives of the Saints_ by D. Rostóvsky, there is a short - story which has always touched me exceedingly, of a certain monk, - who to the knowledge of all his brethren had many faults, but whom - an old monk, in a dream, saw occupying a place of honour among the - saints. The old man asked in astonishment, 'How could this monk, so - unrestrained in many ways, deserve so great a reward?' The answer - was: 'He never condemned any one.' - -Tolstoy adds: 'If such rewards did exist, I think my brother and my -mother would have received them.' - -Another feature Tolstoy records of his mother is 'her truthfulness -and the simple tone of her correspondence.' He tells us that in his -imagination his mother - - appeared to me a creature so elevated, pure and spiritual, that - often in the middle period of my life, during my struggles with - overwhelming temptations, I prayed to her soul begging her to aid - me; and such prayer always helped me much. - - -1828 - -Five children were born to Nicholas and Marie Tolstoy. First came -four sons, of whom Leo was the youngest. His name in Russian is Lyóf -Nikoláyevitch (Leo, son-of-Nicholas) Tolstóy. Leo Tolstoy is the way -he signs himself when using the Latin alphabet; and when pronouncing -his name it should be remembered that the accent falls on the second -syllable, and that that syllable rhymes with 'boy.' The fancy spellings -_Tolstoi_ and _Tolstoď_ are due to the fact that some of the early -translators and reviewers, not being able to read Russian, relied on -French versions, and did not know how Tolstoy spells or pronounces his -own name. He was born on 28th August 1828[1] at Yásnaya Polyána, with -a caul--which both in Russia and in England is considered a sign of -good-fortune. - - [1] The dates mentioned in the text are usually old style - (twelve days behind our calendar), unless the contrary is - expressly stated. - -A year and a half later a daughter, Marie, was born; and in giving -birth to her the mother died, on 7th March 1830. - -Pilgrims, monks, nuns, and various half-crazy devotees were frequent -visitors at the house, and even took up their abode there. One of these -was a nun, Márya Gerásimovna, who in her youth had made pilgrimages -to various holy places dressed as a man. After the birth of four boys -Tolstoy's mother longed for a daughter, and promised Márya Gerásimovna -that she should be godmother if by prayer she enabled her to obtain her -desire. The next child really was a daughter. The promise was kept, -and thereafter Márya Gerásimovna, though she lived partly in the Toúla -convent, was free of the Tolstoys' house and spent much of her time -there. - -Tolstoy gives us his earliest reminiscences in an autobiographical -fragment published in 1878: - - These are my first recollections. I cannot arrange them in order, - for I do not know which come first or last. Of some of them I - do not even know whether they happened in a dream or when I was - awake. I lie bound[2] and wish to stretch out my arms, but cannot. - I scream and cry, and my screams are disagreeable to myself, - but I cannot stop. Some one--I do not remember who--bends over - me. This all happens in semi-darkness. I only know there were - two people there. My cries affect them: they are agitated by my - screams, but do not untie me as I want them to, and I scream - still louder. To them it seems necessary that I should be bound, - but I know it is unnecessary and I wish to prove this to them, - and I again burst into cries which are unpleasant to myself but - are yet unrestrainable. I feel the injustice and cruelty--not of - people, for they pity me, but--of fate, and I pity myself. I do - not know and shall never know, what it was all about: whether I - was swaddled while still a baby at the breast, and struggled to - free my hands; whether they swaddled me when I was more than a - year old, to prevent my scratching some sore, or whether I have - gathered into this one recollection (as one does in a dream) many - different impressions. The one sure thing is, that this was the - first and strongest impression of my life. And what remains on my - memory is not my cries nor my suffering, but the complexity and - contradictoriness of the impressions. I desire freedom, it would - harm no one, but I who need strength am weak, while they are strong. - - [2] Russian babies are usually swaddled tightly with bands, - making them look like fresh mummies. - - The next impression is a pleasant one. I am sitting in a tub, and - am surrounded by a new and not unpleasant smell of something with - which they are rubbing my tiny body. Probably it was bran, put - into the water of my bath; the novelty of the sensation caused by - the bran aroused me, and for the first time I became aware of, and - liked, my own little body with the visible ribs on my breast, and - the smooth, dark, wooden tub, the bared arms of my nurse, the warm, - steaming, swirling water, the noise it made, and especially the - smooth feel of the wet rim of the tub as I passed my hands along it. - - My next recollections belong to the time when I was five or six, - and there are very few of them, and not one that relates to life - outside the walls of the house. Nature, up to the age of five, did - not exist for me. All that I remember, happened in bed or in our - rooms. Neither grass, nor leaves, nor sky, nor sun existed for me. - It cannot be that no one ever gave me flowers and leaves to play - with, that I never saw any grass, that they never shaded me from - the sun; but up to the time when I was five or six years old, I - have no recollection of what we call Nature. Probably, to see it, - one has to be separate from it, and I was Nature. - - The recollection that comes next after the tub is that of - Ereméyevna. 'Ereméyevna' was the name with which they used to - frighten us children. Probably they had long frightened us with - it, but my recollection of it is this: I am in bed and feel - well and happy as usual, and I should not remember it, but that - suddenly the nurse, or some one of those who made up my life, - says something in a voice new to me, and then goes away; and in - addition to being happy I am also frightened. And besides me there - is some one else like me. (Probably my sister Mary, whose crib - stood in the same room.) And I now remember a curtain near my bed; - and both my sister and I are happy and frightened at the strange - thing happening to us, and I hide in my pillow: hide, and glance - at the door from behind which I expect something new and merry. We - laugh, and hide, and wait. And then some one appears in a dress - and cap quite unknown to me, but I recognise that it is the same - person who is always with us (whether my nurse or aunt I do not - remember), and this some one says something about bad children - and about Ereméyevna in a gruff voice which I know. And I squeal - with fear and pleasure, and really am frightened, and yet am glad - to be frightened, and wish her who is frightening me not to know - that I have recognised her. We become quiet, but presently begin - whispering to one another again, on purpose that Ereméyevna may - come back. - - I have another recollection similar to this of Ereméyevna (but - as it is clearer it probably belongs to a later date) which has - always remained inexplicable to me. In this recollection the chief - part is played by our German tutor, Theodore Ivánitch, but I am - sure I was not yet in his charge; so the event must have taken - place before I was five. It is my first recollection of Theodore - Ivánitch, and it took place at so early an age that I can remember - no one else: neither my brothers nor my father nor any one. If - I have some notion of some one individual person, it is only of - my sister, and this only because she, like me, was afraid of - Ereméyevna. With this recollection is joined my first conception - of the fact that our house had a top story. How I climbed - there--whether I went by myself or whether any one carried me--I - have quite forgotten, but I remember that many of us are there, - and we all form a circle holding each other's hands; among us are - some women I did not know (for some reason I remember that they - were washer-women), and we all begin to go round and to jump; and - Theodore Ivánitch jumps, lifting his legs too high and too loudly - and noisily, and I at one and the same instant feel that this is - bad and depraved, and notice him and (I believe) begin to cry--and - all is over. - - That is all I remember up to the age of five. Neither my nurses, - aunts, brothers, sister, nor my father, nor the rooms, nor my toys, - do I remember. My more distinct recollections begin from the time I - was moved downstairs to Theodore Ivánitch and the elder boys. - - When I was moved downstairs to Theodore Ivánitch and the boys, I - experienced for the first time and therefore more strongly than - ever since, the feeling which is called the sense of duty, the - consciousness of the cross every man is called upon to bear. It - was hard to leave what I was accustomed to from the beginning of - things, and I was sad, poetically sad, not so much at parting from - people: sister, nurse, and aunt, as at parting with my crib, the - curtain and the pillow; and I feared the new life into which I was - entering. I tried to see the jolly side of this new life awaiting - me; I tried to believe the caressing words with which Theodore - Ivánitch lured me to him. I tried not to see the contempt with - which the boys received me, the youngest boy. I tried to think - it was a shame for a big boy to live with girls, and that there - was nothing good in the life upstairs with nurse; but my heart - was terribly sad, I knew I was irreparably losing my innocence - and happiness; and only a feeling of personal dignity and the - consciousness of doing my duty upheld me. (Often in after-life I - have experienced similar moments at the parting of crossroads, - when entering on a fresh course.) I experienced quiet grief at the - irreparableness of my loss; I was unable to believe that it would - really happen. Though I had been told that I should be moved to - the boys' rooms, I remember that the dressing-gown with a cord - sewn to its back, which they put on me, seemed to cut me off for - ever from upstairs, and I then for the first time observed--not - all those with whom I had lived upstairs, but--the chief person - with whom I lived, and whom I did not remember before. This was my - Aunty Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky. I remember her short, stout, - black-haired, kindly, tender, and compassionate. It was she who put - the dressing-gown on me, and embracing me and kissing me, tied it - round my waist; and I saw that she felt as I did, that it was sad, - terribly sad, but had to be; and for the first time I felt that - life is not a game but a serious matter. - -'Aunty' Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky, mentioned in the above -reminiscences, was a very distant relative who being left an orphan, -had been brought up by Tolstoy's paternal grandparents. She was very -attractive and affectionate. She loved and was loved by Count Nicholas, -Leo's father, but stood aside that he might marry the rich Princess -Marie Volkónsky and repair the family fortunes. Six years after his -wife's death Count Nicholas asked Tatiána to marry him and be a mother -to his children. Not wishing (Tolstoy tells us) to spoil her pure, -poetic relations with the family, she refused the first but fulfilled -the second of these requests. - -The joyousness of Tolstoy's boyhood was largely due to the care and -affection of this excellent woman, and in the most firmly rooted of -his principles--such as his detestation of corporal punishment and his -approval of complete chastity--it is easy to trace her unconscious -influence. - -Here for instance is one episode: - - We children were returning home from a walk with our tutor, when - near the barn we met the fat steward, Andrew, followed by the - coachman's assistant, 'Squinting Kouzmá' as he was called, whose - face was sad. He was a married man and no longer young. One of us - asked Andrew where he was going, and he quietly replied that he - was going to the barn, where Kouzmá had to be punished. I cannot - describe the dreadful feeling which these words and the sight of - the good-natured crestfallen Kouzmá produced on me. In the evening - I told this to my Aunt Tatiána, who hated corporal punishment and, - wherever she had influence, never allowed it for us any more than - for the serfs. She was greatly revolted at what I told her, and - rebuking me said, 'Why did you not stop him?' Her words grieved - me still more.... I never thought that we could interfere in such - things, and yet it appeared that we could. But it was too late, and - the dreadful deed had been done. - -To sum up what we know of Tolstoy's antecedents: he was descended on -his father's side and still more on his mother's, from aristocratic -families who were more or less in passive opposition to the Government, -and who shared the humanitarian sympathies current in the early years -of the reign of Alexander I. A cousin of Tolstoy's mother was one of -the Decembrists, and on the accession of Nicholas I in 1825 took part -in their abortive attempt to establish Constitutional Government. He -was exiled to Eastern Siberia for thirty years, doing hard labour in -irons part of the time. His wife (another Princess Marie Volkónsky) -voluntarily accompanied him, as Nekrásof has told in a well-known -Russian poem. Several members of the family towards the end of their -lives retired into convents or monasteries. - -We find strong family love uniting the homes of Tolstoy's parents and -grandparents; and even after their death, Tolstoy's nature ripened -in a congenial atmosphere of family affection; and many of his most -pronounced sympathies and antipathies are not peculiar to himself, but -were shared equally by other members of the family. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER I - -P. Birukof: _Lyof Nikolayevitch Tolstoy. Biografiya_: Moscow, 1906. -(The Russian edition is much more readable and accurate than the -English.) - - Referred to hereafter as _Birukof_. - -S. A. Behrs: _Vospominaniya o Grafe L. N. Tolstom_, Smolensk, 1894, -is very valuable as being the work of one who spent twelve summers at -Yasnaya, and knew Tolstoy intimately. - - Referred to hereafter as _Behrs_. - -There is an English edition of this book: _Recollections of Count Leo -Tolstoy_, London, 1893, but it is incomplete, and inferior to the -Russian in many ways. It gives the author's name wrongly as C. A. Behrs. - -Leo Tolstoy, _First Recollections_, a fragment: Tolstoy's collected -works, Moscow, 1892. - -Supplement to _Novy Mir_, Graf Lyof Tolstoy: St. Petersburg, 1903. - - Referred to hereafter as _Novy Mir_. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MANHOOD - -Yásnaya Polyána. Aunt Tatiána. The German Tutor. The brothers: -Nicholas, Sergius and Demetrius. Doúnetchka. The house-serfs. A -family scene. Pilgrims and saints. Death of father and grandmother. -Flying. Personal appearance. Corporal punishment. Originality. Riding -lessons. The Countess Osten-Saken. Aunt P. I. Úshkof. Books. Abstract -speculations. Kazán University. Imprisonment. Diary. Demetrius. Books: -Dickens and Rousseau. Yásnaya again. Petersburg. Consistency. Rudolph -the Musician. Women. Gambling. Gipsy girls. Money difficulties. The -liberty of Russian nobles. - - -YÁSNAYA POLYÁNA (Bright Glade), where Tolstoy was born, had been -an ancestral estate of the Volkónskys and belonged to his mother, -the Princess Marie. It is situated ten miles south of Toúla, in a -pleasantly undulating country. The estate, which is enclosed by an -old brick wall, is well wooded and has many avenues of lime-trees, a -river and four lakes. In Tolstoy's grandfather's time, sentinels kept -guard at the small, round, brick towers, which now stand neglected at -the entrance of the main birch avenue leading to the house. Something -of the great confidence in himself and readiness to despise others, -which despite all his efforts to be humble, characterise Tolstoy, may -be due to the fact that he was born and grew up on an estate where for -generations his ancestors had been the only people of importance. - -'Aunty' Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky had been brought up by his -grandmother on an equality with her own children. She (Tatiána) was -resolute, self-sacrificing, and, says Tolstoy, - - must have been very attractive with her enormous plait of crisp, - black, curly hair, her jet-black eyes, and vivacious, energetic - expression. When I remember her she was more than forty, and I - never thought about her as pretty or not pretty. I simply loved - her eyes, her smile, and her dusky broad little hand, with its - energetic little cross vein. - - We had two aunts and a grandmother; they all had more right to us - than Tatiána Alexándrovna, whom we called Aunt only by habit (for - our kinship was so distant that I could never remember what it - was), but she took the first place in our upbringing by right of - love to us (like Buddha in the story of the wounded swan), and we - felt her right. - - I had fits of passionately tender love for her. - - I remember once, when I was about five, how I squeezed in behind - her on the sofa in the drawing-room and she caressingly touched me - with her hand. I caught it and began to kiss it, and to cry with - tender love of her.... - - Aunty Tatiána had the greatest influence on my life. From early - childhood she taught me the spiritual delight of love. She taught - me this joy not by words; but by her whole being she filled me with - love. I saw, I felt, how she enjoyed loving, and I understood the - joy of love. This was the first thing. - - Secondly, she taught me the delights of an unhurried, quiet life. - -Another, though a much less important, influence was that of the tutor, -Theodore Rössel (who figures as Karl Ivánovitch Mauer in Tolstoy's -early sketch, _Childhood_). Tolstoy owes his excellent knowledge of -German and French to the fact that his father, following a custom -common among well-to-do Russians, engaged foreign teachers and let his -children learn languages not so much from books as by conversation, -while they were still quite young. Rössel's 'honest, straightforward, -and loving nature' helped to develop the boy's good qualities. - -Tolstoy got on well, too, with his brothers, who were five-and-a-half, -two, and one year older than himself, as well as with his little sister -Marie, his junior by a year-and-a-half. - -He not only loved, but deeply respected, his eldest brother Nicholas -(pet name, Nikólenka), whose influence lasted until, and even after, -his death in 1860. Of him Tolstoy says: - - He was a wonderful boy, and later a wonderful man. Tourgénef used - to say of him very truly, that he only lacked certain faults - to be a great writer. He lacked the chief fault needed for - authorship--vanity, and was not at all interested in what people - thought of him. The qualities of a writer which he possessed were, - first of all, a fine artistic sense, an extremely developed sense - of proportion, a good-natured gay sense of humour, an extraordinary - inexhaustible imagination, and a truthful and highly moral view of - life; and all this without the slightest conceit. His imagination - was such that for hours together he could tell fairy-tales or - ghost-stories, or amusing tales in the style of Mrs. Radcliffe, - without a pause and with such vivid realisation of what he was - narrating that one forgot it was all invention.... When he was not - narrating or reading (he read a great deal) he used to draw. He - almost invariably drew devils with horns and twisted moustaches, - intertwined in the most varied attitudes and engaged in the most - diverse occupations. These drawings were also full of imagination. - - It was he who, when I was five and my brothers, Dmítry six and - Sergéy seven, announced to us that he possessed a secret by means - of which, when disclosed, all men would become happy: there would - be no more disease, no trouble, no one would be angry with anybody, - all would love one another, and all would become 'Ant-Brothers.'... - We even organised a game of Ant-Brothers, which consisted in - sitting under chairs, sheltering ourselves with boxes, screening - ourselves with handkerchiefs, and cuddling against one another - while thus crouching in the dark.... The Ant-Brotherhood was - revealed to us, but not the chief secret: the way for all men - to cease suffering any misfortune, to leave off quarrelling and - being angry, and become continuously happy; this secret he said - he had written on a green stick, buried by the road at the edge - of a certain ravine, at which spot (since my body must be buried - somewhere) I have asked to be buried in memory of Nikólenka. - Besides this little stick, there was also a certain Fanfarónof - Hill, up which he said he could lead us, if only we would fulfil - all the appointed conditions. These were: first, to stand in a - corner and not think of a white bear. I remember how I used to get - into a corner and try (but could not possibly manage) not to think - of a white bear. The second condition was to walk without wavering - along a crack between the boards of the floor; and the third was, - for a whole year not to see a hare, alive or dead or cooked; and - it was necessary to swear not to reveal these secrets to any one. - He who fulfilled these, and other more difficult conditions which - Nikólenka would communicate later, would have one wish, whatever it - might be, fulfilled. - - Nikólenka, as I now conjecture, had probably read or heard of the - Freemasons--of their aspirations toward the happiness of mankind, - and of the mysterious initiatory rites on entering their order; he - had probably also heard about the Moravian Brothers [in Russian - _ant_ is _mouravéy_]. - -Writing when he was over seventy, Tolstoy adds: - - The ideal of ant-brothers lovingly clinging to one another, though - not under two arm-chairs curtained by handkerchiefs, but of all - mankind under the wide dome of heaven, has remained the same for - me. As I then believed that there existed a little green stick - whereon was written the message which could destroy all evil in - men and give them universal welfare, so I now believe that such - truth exists and will be revealed to men, and will give them all it - promises. - -It was, however, Tolstoy's second brother, Sergius (or Sergéy: pet -name, Seryózha), whom Tolstoy in his young days most enthusiastically -admired and wished to imitate. Sergius was handsome, proud, -straightforward, and singularly sincere. Of him Leo Tolstoy says: - - I loved and wished to be like him. I admired his handsome - appearance, his singing (he was always singing), his drawing, - his gaiety and especially (strange as it may seem to say so) the - spontaneity of his egotism. I myself was always aware of myself - and self-conscious; I always guessed, rightly or wrongly, what - other people thought or felt about me, and this spoilt my joy in - life. This probably is why in others I specially liked the opposite - feature--spontaneity of egotism. And for this I specially loved - Seryózha. The word _loved_ is not correct. I loved Nikólenka; but - for Seryózha I was filled with admiration as for something quite - apart from and incomprehensible to me. - -Of the third brother, Demetrius (or Dmítry: pet name, Mítenka), only a -year older than himself, Tolstoy tells us: - - I hardly remember him as a boy. I only know by hearsay that as a - child he was very capricious. He was nearest to me in age and I - played with him oftenest, but did not love him as much as I loved - Seryózha, nor as I loved and respected Nikólenka. He and I lived - together amicably. I do not recollect that we quarrelled. Probably - we did, and we may even have fought.... As a child I remember - nothing special about Mítenka except his childish merriment. - -Tolstoy says he was 'afraid of beggars, and of one of the Volkónskys, -who used to pinch me; but, I think, of no one else.' - -A girl, Doúnetchka Temeshóf, was adopted as a member of the family. She -was a natural daughter of a wealthy bachelor friend of Tolstoy's father. - - I remember how, when I had already learnt French, I was made to - teach her that alphabet. At first it went all right (we were both - about five years old), but later she probably became tired, and - ceased to name correctly the letters I pointed out. I insisted. She - began to cry. I did the same, and when our elders came, we could - say nothing owing to our hopeless tears. - -In his later recollections of her he says: - - She was not clever, but was a good, simple girl; and, above all, so - pure that we boys never had any but brotherly relations with her. - -By which he means that there was no flirtation. - -The relations between the family and its servants, who were serfs -(and of whom there were about thirty), were, as in many a Russian -family, often really affectionate. One instance of a serf's devotion -has already been quoted; and such cases were not rare. In _Childhood_ -mention is made of the old housekeeper, Praskóvya Isáyevna, who was -completely devoted to the welfare of the family, and Tolstoy says: 'All -that I there wrote about her was actual truth.' - -Here is another example illustrating both kindly toleration of minor -offences committed by a serf, and the family affection which sweetened -life: - - My pleasantest recollections of my father are of his sitting with - grandmother on the sofa, helping her to play Patience. My father - was polite and tender with every one, but to my grandmother he was - always particularly tenderly submissive. They used to sit--Grandma - playing Patience, and from time to time taking pinches from a - gold snuff-box. My aunts sit in arm-chairs, and one of them reads - aloud. We children come in to say good-night, and sometimes sit - there. We always take leave of Grandma and our aunts by kissing - their hands. I remember once, in the middle of a game of Patience - and of the reading, my father interrupts my aunt, points to a - looking-glass and whispers something. We all look in the same - direction. It was the footman Tíkhon, who (knowing that my father - was in the drawing-room) was going into the study to take some - tobacco from a big leather folding tobacco-pouch. My father sees - him in the looking-glass, and notices his figure carefully stepping - on tip-toe. My aunts laugh. Grandmama for a long time does not - understand, but when she does, she too smiles cheerfully. I am - enchanted by my father's kindness, and on taking leave of him kiss - his white muscular hand with special tenderness. - -An important feature of the life in which Tolstoy grew up was furnished -by the half-crazy saints who swarmed in Russia in those days, and are -still occasionally to be met with. Readers of _Childhood_ will remember -Grísha, an admirable specimen of that class, about whom Tolstoy makes -the following characteristic note in his memoirs: - - Grísha is an invented character. We had many of these half-crazy - saints at our house, and I was taught to regard them with profound - respect, for which I am deeply grateful to those who brought me - up. If there were some among them who were insincere, or who - experienced periods of weakness and insincerity, yet the aim of - their life, though practically absurd, was so lofty that I am glad - I learned in childhood unconsciously to understand the height of - their achievement. They accomplished what Marcus Aurelius speaks - of when he says: 'There is nothing higher than to endure contempt - for one's good life.' So harmful and so unavoidable is the desire - for human glory which always contaminates good deeds, that one - cannot but sympathise with the effort not merely to avoid praise, - but even to evoke contempt. Such a character was Márya Gerásimovna, - my sister's godmother, and the semi-idiot Evdokímoushka, and some - others in our house. - -How deeply these early impressions were engraved on Tolstoy's mind -is obvious from his earliest as well as his latest writings. Take, -for instance, the lines from _Childhood_ referring to Grísha's prayer -overheard by the children. - - Much water has flowed away since then, many recollections of the - past have lost for me their meaning and become blurred fancies; - even the pilgrim Grísha himself has long since finished his last - pilgrimage; but the impression he produced on me and the feeling he - evoked, will never die out of my memory. - -In Tolstoy's later life we shall again and again find this medieval -note recurring (with whatever of truth or falsity it contains), and the -assertion that it is not the usefulness or uselessness of a man's life -that matters, so much as his self-abnegation and the humility of his -soul. - -To complete the picture of Tolstoy's early boyhood at Yásnaya Polyána, -we must think of him as interested in his father's dogs and horses -and hunting (in _Childhood_ he tells the true story of how he hunted -his first hare), and also in the games and masquerades with which -the family and visitors, as well as the servants, amused themselves, -especially at New Year. - -In spite of his sensitive introspective nature, Tolstoy's childhood was -a happy one; and to it he always looks back with pleasure. He speaks -of 'that splendid, innocent, joyful, poetic period of childhood, up to -fourteen,' and he tells us that the impressions of early childhood, -preserved in one's memory, grow in some unfathomable depth of the soul, -like seeds thrown on good ground, till after many years they thrust -their bright, green shoots into God's world. - - -1837 - -When Tolstoy was eight years old the family moved to Moscow for his -elder brothers' education. The following summer they lost their father, -who, having gone to Toúla on business, fell down in the street on his -way to visit his friend Temeshóf, and died of apoplexy. What money he -had with him was stolen, but some unnegotiable bonds were brought back -to the Tolstoys in Moscow by an unknown beggar. The funeral took place -at Yásnaya Polyána; and Leo, who did not attend it, long fancied that -his father was not really dead. Looking at the faces of strangers in -the streets of Moscow, he felt almost certain he might at any moment -meet him alive again. - -This event brought the problems of life and death vividly to the boy's -mind, and nine months later the impression was intensified by the -death of his grandmother, who never recovered from the shock of her -son's death. Hers was the first death Tolstoy witnessed, and he never -forgot the horror he felt when, as she lay dying of dropsy, he was -admitted to kiss her swollen white hand and saw her, dressed in white, -lying motionless on a high white bed. But he says: - - I remember that new jackets of black material, braided with white, - were made for all of us. It was dreadful to see the undertakers' - men hanging about near the house, and then bringing in the coffin, - with its lid covered with glazed brocade, and my grandmother's - stern face, with its Roman nose, and her white cap and the white - kerchief on her neck, lying high in the coffin on the table; and - it was sad to see the tears of our aunts and of Páshenka; but yet - the new braided jackets and the soothing attitude adopted towards - us by those around, gratified us.... I remember how pleasant it - was to me to overhear during the funeral the conversation of some - gossiping female guests, who said, 'Complete orphans; their father - only lately dead, and now the grandmother gone too.' - -Some time after this, an event occurred that is recorded on the first -page of Tolstoy's _Confession_: - - I remember how, when I was about eleven, a boy Vladímir Milútin - (long since dead), a Grammar School pupil, visited us one Sunday - and announced as the latest novelty a discovery made at his School. - The discovery was that there is no God, and all that we are taught - about Him is a mere invention. I remember how interested my elder - brothers were in this news. They called me to their council and - we all, I remember, became animated, and accepted the news as - something very interesting and fully possible. - -Various stories have been preserved relating to Tolstoy's boyhood, and -some of them are sufficiently characteristic to be worth repeating. - -One incident which made a strong impression on the lad, keenly -sensitive as he always was to any shade of injustice, was the following: - -Soon after the death of their father and grandmother, the orphan -Tolstoys, then living in rather straitened circumstances (owing to the -property being left in trust), were invited to a Christmas Tree at the -house of an acquaintance, and the young Princes Gortchakóf, nephews of -the then Minister of War, were also among the guests. All the children -received presents; but whereas the Gortchakófs had expensive ones, the -Tolstoys, to their annoyance, received cheap common ones. - -Another occurrence that clung to his recollection through life, was -the friendly welcome they received one day when they made their way -uninvited into a private garden in Moscow; and the sad disappointment -they experienced when, returning a few days later unaccompanied by -a pretty and attractive girl who had been with them on the former -occasion, they were coldly informed that it was private ground, not -open to the public. - -Other stories, told by Tolstoy himself or by the family, illustrate his -impulsive, imaginative, strenuous and rather erratic nature at this -period. - -When he was about seven or eight years old he had an ardent desire to -fly, and persuaded himself that it was possible to do so. It was only -necessary to sit down tight on your heels, clasping your arms firmly -round your knees, and the tighter you held them the higher you would -fly. As Tolstoy was always ardent to put his beliefs into practice, it -is not very surprising that one day, soon after the family had moved -to Moscow, he stayed behind in the class-room when he should have come -down to dinner, and climbing out on the window-sill, some six yards -from the ground, threw himself out. He was picked up unconscious. -The ill results of his fall were fortunately confined to a slight -concussion of the brain; and after sleeping for eighteen hours on end -he woke up again quite well. - -It would be a mistake to take his story, _Childhood_, as strictly -autobiographical; but it contains many passages which one knows from -other sources to be true of his own life, and one such is the passage -in which (speaking in the character of Nikólenka) he says: - - I knew very well that I was plain, and therefore every reference - to my appearance was painfully offensive to me.... Moments of - despair frequently came over me: I imagined that there could be no - happiness on earth for a man with so broad a nose, such thick lips, - and such small grey eyes as mine. I asked God to perform a miracle - and change me into a handsome boy, and all I then had and all I - could ever possess in the future, I would have given for a handsome - face. - -In fact, his personal appearance caused the sensitive lad much concern, -but his efforts to improve it were unsuccessful. On one occasion he -clipped his eyebrows, and the unsatisfactory results of that operation -occasioned him great grief. - -He records in his Reminiscences the following incident, which certainly -intensified his lifelong antipathy to corporal punishment: - - I do not remember for what, but for something quite undeserving of - punishment, St. Thomas [the resident French tutor who succeeded - Rössel] first locked me into a room, and secondly threatened to - flog me. I thereupon experienced a dreadful feeling of anger - indignation and disgust, not only towards St. Thomas himself, but - towards the violence with which I was threatened. - -When quite a small boy he conceived an attachment for the nine-year-old -daughter of his father's friend, Islényef, and being jealous of her for -daring to talk to others, he angrily pushed her off a balcony, with -the result that she limped for a long time afterwards. A quarter of a -century later, when he married this lady's daughter, his mother-in-law -used laughingly to remind him of the incident, and say, 'Evidently -you pushed me off the balcony in my childhood that you might marry my -daughter afterwards!' - -His sister relates that once when they were driving in a troika (_i.e._ -three horses abreast) to Yásnaya, Leo got down during a break in the -journey and went forward on foot. When the carriage started again and -began to overtake him he took to running, and when the horses went -faster he also increased his speed, racing as hard as he could. He -was not overtaken till he had gone about two miles and was completely -tired out. He was lifted back into the carriage gasping for breath, -perspiring and quite exhausted. Any one not endowed with the remarkable -physical vigour that, in spite of frequent attacks of ill-health, has -characterised Tolstoy through life, would probably have done themselves -serious injury had they taxed their vital resources as recklessly as he -often did. - -All accounts agree in representing him as an original and odd little -fellow, unwilling to do things like other people. He would for instance -enter a drawing-room and, carefully placing his feet together and -bending his head, would make his bow backwards, saluting each of the -company in turn. - -Two incidents are recorded relating to the love of riding which has -remained a characteristic of his through life. - -When his brothers were sent to a riding-school, Leo (in spite of his -father's assurances and those of the riding-master that he was too -small to begin and would tumble off) also obtained permission to learn -to ride. At his first lesson he duly tumbled off, but begged to be -replaced in the saddle; and he did not fall off again, but became an -expert horseman. In one of the short stories he wrote many years later -for the use of school-children, he tells how he once wished to ride -the old horse Raven after his brothers had each had a turn on it; and -how Raven being too tired to move from the stables, he beat it till he -broke his switch on its sides. He then demanded a stouter switch from -the serf in charge, but the man replied: - - 'Ah, master, you have no pity! Why do you beat him? He is twenty - years old, and is tired out; he can hardly breathe. Why, for a - horse, he is as old as Timoféyitch [a very old peasant living at - the place]. You might as well get on Timoféyitch's back, and drive - him beyond his strength like that, with a switch. Would you feel no - pity for him?' - - I thought of Timoféyitch, and hearkened to the man. I got off - the horse's back; and when I noticed how its steaming sides were - working, and how heavily it breathed through its nostrils, swishing - its thin tail, I understood how hard it was for it. Till then I - had thought that it was as happy as I was myself. And I felt so - sorry for Raven that I began to kiss his sweaty neck and to beg his - pardon for having beaten him. - - Since then I have grown up, but I always have pity on horses, and - always remember Raven and Timoféyitch when I see horses ill-treated. - -He does not appear to have been very good at his lessons, and himself -somewhere mentions the dictum of a student who used to coach his -brothers and himself, and said of their aptitude for learning: - - 'Sergéy both wishes and can, Dmítry wishes but can't' (this was - not true), 'and Leo neither wishes nor can.' (This, I think, was - perfectly true.) - -On the other hand, St. Thomas, the French tutor already referred to -(he figures in _Childhood_ as St. Jérôme), must have noticed the lad's -capacity, for he used to say, '_Ce petit a une tęte: c'est un petit -Moličre_' (This little one has a head: he is a little Moličre). - - -1837 - -After the father's death the family property passed under the control -of the Court of Wards, and expenses had to be cut down. It was -therefore decided that, though the two elder brothers had to remain -in Moscow for the sake of their education, the three younger children -should return to Yásnaya Polyána, where living was cheaper, in charge -of their much loved Aunty Tatiána. Their legal guardian, the Countess -Alexandra ('Aline') Ilýnishna Osten-Saken, remained in Moscow with the -elder boys. - -This lady had made what seemed a brilliant marriage with the wealthy -Count Osten-Saken, whose family was among the first in the Baltic -Provinces; but her married life was a terrible one. Her husband went -out of his mind and tried to kill her. While he was confined in an -asylum, the Countess gave birth to a still-born child. To save her from -this fresh shock, a girl born of a servant, the wife of a Court cook, -was substituted for the still-born baby. This girl, Páshenka, lived -with the Tolstoy family, and was already grown up when Tolstoy was -quite a child. Subsequently the Countess Alexandra lived first with her -parents and then with her brother, Tolstoy's father. Though she was a -devotee of the Orthodox Russo-Greek Church of which Tolstoy eventually -became so fierce an opponent, much in her character and conduct accords -with the precepts laid down in his later writings; and it is evident -that certain aspects of his understanding of the Christian character, -which strike most Englishmen as peculiar, far from being invented out -of his own head, are derived from a deeply-rooted Russian and family -tradition. He tells us: - - My aunt was a truly religious woman. Her favourite occupation - was reading the Lives of the Saints, conversing with pilgrims, - half-crazy devotees, monks and nuns, of whom some always lived - in our house, while others only visited my aunt.... She was not - merely outwardly religious, keeping the fasts, praying much, and - associating with people of saintly life, but she herself lived - a truly Christian life, trying not only to avoid all luxury and - acceptance of service, but herself serving others as much as - possible. She never had any money, for she gave away all she had - to those who asked. A servant related to me how, during their life - in Moscow, my aunt used carefully on tip-toe to pass her sleeping - maid, when going to Matins, and used herself to perform all the - duties which it was in those days customary for a maid to perform. - In food and dress she was as simple and unexacting as can possibly - be imagined. Unpleasant as it is to me to mention it, I remember - from childhood a specific acid smell connected with my aunt, - probably due to negligence in her toilet: and this was the graceful - poetic Aline with beautiful blue eyes, who used to love reading and - copying French verses, who played on the harp, and always had great - success at the grandest balls! I remember how affectionate and kind - she always was, and this equally to the most important men and - women and to the nuns and pilgrims. - -Tolstoy goes on to tell how pleasantly she bore the jests and teasing -that her devotion to the priests brought upon her. - - I remember her dear good-natured laugh, and her face shining with - pleasure. The religious feeling which filled her soul was evidently - so important to her, so much higher than anything else, that she - could not be angry or annoyed at anything, and could not attribute - to worldly matters the importance others attach to them. - - -1840 - -In the summer of 1839 the whole family assembled at Yásnaya Polyána. -The next year, 1840, was a famine year. The crops were so poor that -corn had to be bought to feed the serfs, and to raise funds for this -purpose one of the Tolstoys' estates had to be sold. The supply of -oats for the horses was stopped, and Tolstoy remembers how he and his -brothers, pitying their ponies, secretly gathered oats for them in the -peasants' fields, quite unconscious of the crime they were committing. - - -1841 - -In the autumn of that year the whole family moved to Moscow, returning -to Yásnaya for the following summer. The next autumn their guardian, -the kind good Countess Alexandra Osten-Saken, died in the Convent -or 'Hermitage' founded by Óptin (a robber chief of the fourteenth -century) in the Government of Kaloúga, to which she had retired. - -After her death her sister, Pelagéya Ilýnishna Úshkof, became their -guardian. She was the wife of a Kazán landowner. Aunty Tatiána and she -were not on friendly terms; there was no open quarrel between them, -but V. I. Úshkof (Pelagéya's husband) had been a suitor for Tatiána's -hand in his youth, and had been refused. Pelagéya could not forgive her -husband's old love for Tatiána. - -The change of guardianship led to the removal of the family to Kazán, -and to the children being separated from Aunty Tatiána, much to her -grief. - -The books which up to the age of fourteen, when he went to Kazán, had -most influenced Tolstoy were, he tells us, the Story of Joseph from the -Bible, the _Forty Thieves_ and _Prince Kamaralzaman_ from the _Arabian -Nights_, various Russian folk-legends, Poúshkin's _Tales_ and his poem -_Napoleon_, and _The Black Hen_ by Pogorélsky. The influence the story -of Joseph had on him, he says, was 'immense.' - -In his aptitude for abstract speculation, as in other respects, -the boy was truly father to the man; and in a passage, certainly -autobiographical, in _Boyhood_, he says: - - It will hardly be believed what were the favourite and most common - subjects of my reflections in my boyhood--so incompatible were - they with my age and situation. But in my opinion incompatibility - between a man's position and his moral activity is the surest sign - of truth.... - - At one time the thought occurred to me that happiness does not - depend on external causes, but on our relation to them; and that - a man accustomed to bear suffering cannot be unhappy. To accustom - myself therefore to endurance, I would hold Tatíshef's dictionaries - in my outstretched hand for five minutes at a time, though it - caused me terrible pain; or I would go to the lumber room and flog - myself on my bare back with a cord so severely that tears started - to my eyes. - - At another time suddenly remembering that death awaits me every - hour and every minute, I decided (wondering why people had not - understood this before) that man can only be happy by enjoying the - present and not thinking of the future; and for three days, under - the influence of this thought, I abandoned my lessons, and did - nothing but lie on my bed and enjoy myself, reading a novel and - eating honey-gingerbreads, on which I spent my last coins.... - - But no philosophic current swayed me so much as scepticism, which - at one time brought me to the verge of insanity. I imagined that - except myself no one and nothing existed in the world, that - objects are not objects but apparitions, appearing only when I pay - attention to them and disappearing as soon as I cease to think of - them. In a word, I coincided with Schelling in the conviction that - what exists is not objects, but only my relation to them. There - were moments in which under the influence of this fixed idea, I - reached such a stage of absurdity that I glanced quickly round - hoping to catch Nothingness by surprise, there where I was not. - - The philosophical discoveries I made greatly flattered my vanity: - I often imagined myself a great man, discovering new truths for - the benefit of humanity, and I looked on other mortals with a - proud consciousness of my own dignity; yet, strange to say, when - I came in contact with these mortals I grew timid before each of - them. The higher I stood in my own opinion the less was I able to - show any consciousness of my own dignity before others, or even to - avoid being ashamed of every word or movement of my own--even the - simplest. - -At the time of the move to Kazán, a serf lad of about his own age was -presented to each of the young Tolstoys to attend on him. Alexis, the -one given to Leo Tolstoy, remained in his service all his life, and -died at Yásnaya a few years ago. - - -1841 - -For five and a half years, from the autumn of 1841 to the spring of -1847, the brothers lived at Kazán, returning each summer to Yásnaya for -the vacation. They all entered Kazán University. The aunt who was their -guardian, and with whom they lived the greater part of the time, was a -kind but not particularly clever woman. Her house was the centre of -much hospitality and gaiety. - - -1844 - -Leo Tolstoy prepared to enter the faculty of Oriental Languages, in -which a knowledge of Arabic and Turco-Tartar was required. He worked -hard, and matriculated in May 1844 before he was sixteen, passing in -French (for which he received the mark 5+; 5 being in an ordinary -way the highest mark, and the + indicating exceptional distinction), -German, Arabic, and Turco-Tartar very well, and in English, Logic, -Mathematics and Russian Literature, well; but he did indifferently -in Latin, and failed completely in History and Geography, getting -the lowest mark, a 1, for each of them. Of History he says, 'I knew -nothing,' and of Geography 'still less'; adding, 'I was asked to name -the French seaports, but I could not name a single one.' At the end of -the summer vacation he was admitted for re-examination in the subjects -in which he had failed, and passed successfully. - - -1844-1845 - -The winter season when Tolstoy, as a student at the University and a -young man of good position, entered Kazán society, was a particularly -gay one. He attended many balls, given by the Governor of the Province, -by the _Maréchal de la Noblesse_, and by private people, as well as -many masquerades, concerts, tableaux-vivants, and private theatricals. -He is still remembered by old inhabitants as having been 'present at -all the balls, soirées, and aristocratic parties, a welcome guest -everywhere, and always dancing, but, far from being a ladies' man, he -was distinguished by a strange awkwardness and shyness.' At Carnival -time in 1845 he and his brother Sergius took parts in two plays given -for some charitable object. His performance was a great success. - -As to the nature of Kazán society and of his surroundings there, -accounts are contradictory. On the one hand, we have his own statement -that (imitating his brother Sergius in this as in other matters) -he became 'depraved.' Birukóf, too, speaks of 'the detestable -surroundings of Tolstoy's life in Kazán,' and another writer, -Zagóskin, a fellow-student of Tolstoy's at the University, says that -the surroundings in which the latter moved were demoralising and must -have been repellent to him. On the other hand, on seeing Zagóskin's -remarks, Tolstoy (in whom there is often observable a strong spirit of -contradiction) replied: - - I did not feel any repulsion, but was very glad to enjoy myself - in Kazán society, which was then very good. I am on the contrary - thankful to fate that I passed my first youth in an environment - where a young man could be young without touching problems - beyond his grasp, and that I lived a life which, though idle and - luxurious, was yet not evil. - -The explanation of these contradictions, no doubt, is that the family -circle in which Tolstoy lived was an affectionate one, and that he -himself not only enjoyed his life, but formed friendships and made -efforts at which in later years he looked back with satisfaction. -Yet there was assuredly much in his life and in the life around him -which (except when others were severe on it) he recalled with grave -disapproval, a disapproval he has plainly expressed in his _Confession_. - -To come as near as we may to the truth, we must allow for the personal -equation which, in Tolstoy's case, is violent and fluctuating. - -With constant amusements going on around him, it is not surprising that -at the end of his first University year he failed in his examinations. -The failure does not however appear to have been entirely his fault, -for he tells us: - - Ivanóf, Professor of Russian History, prevented me from passing - to the second course (though I had not missed a single lecture - and knew Russian History quite well) because he had quarrelled - with my family. The same Professor also gave me the lowest mark--a - 'one'--for German, though I knew the language incomparably better - than any student in our division. - - -1845 - -Instead of remaining for a second year in the first course of Oriental -Languages, Tolstoy preferred to leave that faculty, and in August -1845 he entered the faculty of Law. During the first months of this -new course he hardly studied at all, throwing himself more than ever -into the gay life of Kazán society. Before midwinter however he began -for the first time, as he tells us, 'to study seriously, and I even -found a certain pleasure in so doing.' Comparative Jurisprudence and -Criminal Law interested him, and his attention was especially arrested -by a discussion on Capital Punishment. Meyer, Professor of Civil Law, -set him a task which quite absorbed him; it was the comparison of -Montesquieu's _Esprit des Lois_ with Catherine the Second's _Great -Nakaz_. The conclusion to which he came was, that in Catherine's -_Nakaz_ one finds Montesquieu's Liberal ideas mixed with the expression -of Catherine's own despotism and vanity, and that the _Nakaz_ brought -more fame to Catherine than good to Russia. - - -1846 - -He passed his examinations successfully in May 1846, and was duly -admitted to the second year's course of Jurisprudence. Some time -previously Tolstoy and another student had disputed which of them had -the better memory, and to test this, each of them learnt by heart the -reply to one examination question in History. Tolstoy's task was to -learn the life of Mazeppa, and as luck would have it that was just the -question he happened to draw at his examination, so that he naturally -obtained a 5, the highest mark. - -From the autumn of 1846 the three brothers, Sergius Demetrius and Leo, -ceased to live at their aunt's, and settled in a flat of their own, -consisting of five rooms. - -A fellow-student, Nazáryef, has given us his impression of Tolstoy as a -student. He says: - - I kept clear of the Count, who from our first meeting repelled me - by his assumption of coldness, his bristly hair and the piercing - expression of his half-closed eyes. I had never met a young man - with such a strange and, to me, incomprehensible air of importance - and self-satisfaction.... - - At first I seldom met the Count, who in spite of his awkwardness - and bashfulness had joined the small group of so-called - 'aristocrats.' He hardly replied to my greetings, as if wishing to - intimate that even here we were far from being equals, since he - drove up with a fast trotter and I came on foot.... - -It so happened that Nazáryef and Tolstoy were both late for a lecture -on History one day, and were incarcerated together by order of the -Inspector. - -One gathers that Tolstoy was in those days particularly careful of -his personal appearance, his clothes indicating his aristocratic -pretensions. But though externally the Tolstoy of 1846 differed greatly -from the Tolstoy of forty years later, his conversation ran on much -the same lines as in later life, and was uttered with the intensity of -conviction and the flashes of dry humour which have since made even the -most didactic of his writings so readable. - -Their conversation in their place of confinement having led to some -mention of Lérmontof's poem, _The Demon_, Tolstoy took occasion to -speak ironically of verse generally, and then, noticing a volume his -companion had of Karamzín's _History of Russia_, he - - attacked History as the dullest and almost the most useless of - subjects. A collection of fables and useless details, sprinkled - with a mass of unnecessary figures and proper names.... Who wants - to know that the second marriage of John the Terrible, with - Temrúk's daughter, took place on 21st August 1562; and his fourth - marriage, with Anna Alexéyevna Koltórsky, in 1572? Yet they expect - me to grind all this, and if I don't, the examiner gives me a 'one.' - -Later on, says Nazáryef, 'the, to me, irresistible force of Tolstoy's -doubts fell upon the University, and on University teaching in general. -The phrase, "The Temple of Science," was constantly on his lips. -Remaining perfectly serious himself, he portrayed our professors -in such a comical light that, in spite of all my efforts to appear -indifferent, I laughed like one possessed.... "Yet," said Tolstoy, "we -both had a right to expect that we should leave this temple useful -men, equipped with knowledge. But what shall we really carry away from -the University?... What shall we be good for, and to whom shall we be -necessary?" - -Nazáryef says that in spite of the feeling half of dislike, half of -perplexity, that Tolstoy evoked in him, he well remembers that he was -dimly conscious of something remarkable, exceptional, and at the same -time inexplicable, about him. - -From the educational articles Tolstoy wrote sixteen years later, we -know that he disapproved of examinations, of the restricted groove of -studies marked out for the students in each faculty, and of the system -which made it necessary for the professors to deliver original lectures -of their own, and obliged the students to listen to those lectures and -to study them, however incompetent the professors might be. - - -1847 - -The fact that his brother Sergius had finished his studies and was -leaving, strengthened Tolstoy's dissatisfaction with the University; -and finally, without waiting for the May examinations at which he might -have qualified for the third year's course, we find him, soon after -Easter 1847, applying to have his name removed from the University roll -'on account of ill-health and family affairs.' He really had been in -hospital in March, but the plea of ill-health was a mere excuse. - -His failure to take a degree was a source of great annoyance and -disappointment to him, and it must not be supposed that he left Kazán -with any idea of taking life easily or neglecting further study. - -From the time he was a boy he had kept a diary of every little sin -he had committed, and especially of any offence against the Seventh -Commandment, in order that he might repent, and if possible refrain -for the future, and his diary shows how full he was at this time of -strenuous resolutions. During the last year of his life at Kazán -he made close friends with a student named Dyákof (the Nehlúdof of -_Boyhood_), and under his influence had developed - - an ecstatic worship of the ideal of virtue, and the conviction - that it is man's destiny continually to perfect himself. To put - all mankind right and to destroy all human vices and misfortunes, - appeared a matter that could well be accomplished. It seemed quite - easy and simple to put oneself right, to acquire all the virtues, - and to be happy. - -Here are some rules he set himself at that time: - - 1. To fulfil what I set myself, despite all obstacles. - - 2. To fulfil well what I do undertake. - - 3. Never to refer to a book for what I have forgotten, but always - to try to recall it to mind myself. - - 4. Always to make my mind work with its utmost power. - - 5. Always to read and think aloud. - - 6. Not to be ashamed of telling people who interrupt me, that they - are hindering me: letting them first feel it, but (if they do not - understand) telling them, with an apology. - -Deciding to settle at Yásnaya for two years, he drew up a list of -studies he intended to pursue for his own mental development, and to -qualify for a University degree; and this list was, as the reader will -see, appalling in its scope. - - 1. To study the whole course of law necessary to get my degree. - - 2. To study practical medicine, and to some extent its theory also. - - 3. To study: French, Russian, German, English, Italian, and Latin. - - 4. To study agriculture, theoretically and practically. - - 5. To study History, Geography, and Statistics. - - 6. To study Mathematics (the High School course). - - 7. To write my [University] thesis. - - 8. To reach the highest perfection I can in music and painting. - - 9. To write down rules (for my conduct). - - 10. To acquire some knowledge of the natural sciences, and, - - 11. To write essays on all the subjects I study. - -Such rules and resolutions abound in Tolstoy's Diary. After failing to -act up to them, he again and again gathers his energies and maps out -for himself plans of life and courses of study sufficient to tax the -energies of an intellectual giant. - -As to his religious opinions at this time, he tells us: - - I was baptized and brought up in the Orthodox Christian faith. I - was taught it in childhood and all through my boyhood and youth. - But before I left the University, in my second year, at the age - of eighteen, I no longer believed anything I had been taught. - (_Confession._) - -His Diary nevertheless shows that he prayed frequently and earnestly; -the fact no doubt being, that though intellectually he discarded -the Orthodox Russo-Greek Church, in times of trouble or distress he -instinctively appealed to God for help. His opinions were wavering and -immature, as he himself tells us in another passage: - - The religious beliefs taught me in childhood disappeared... and as - from the time I was fifteen I began to read philosophic works, my - rejection of those beliefs very soon became a conscious one. From - the age of sixteen I ceased going to Church and fasting of my own - accord. I did not believe what had been taught me from childhood, - but I believed in something. What it was I believed in, I could not - at all have said. I believed in a God, or rather I did not deny - God; but I could not have said what sort of God. Neither did I deny - Christ and his teaching, but what his teaching consisted in I - could also not have said. - - Looking back on that time now, I see clearly that my faith--my only - real faith, that which apart from my animal instincts gave impulse - to my life--was a belief in perfecting oneself. But in what this - perfecting consisted and what its object was, I could not have - said. I tried to perfect myself mentally--I studied everything - I could: anything life threw in my way; I tried to perfect my - will, I drew up rules which I tried to follow; I perfected myself - physically, cultivating my strength and agility by all sorts of - exercises and accustoming myself to endurance and patience by all - kinds of privations. And all this I considered to be perfecting - myself. The beginning of it all was, of course, moral perfecting; - but that was soon replaced by perfecting in general: by the desire - to be better, not in one's own eyes or those of God, but in the - eyes of other people. And very soon this effort again changed - into a desire to be stronger than others: to be more famous, more - important and richer than others. (_Confession._) - -When speaking of Tolstoy's relations with women, it should be borne in -mind that incontinence for young men was then considered so natural -that few of them in his position would have felt any serious qualms of -conscience about such visits to houses of ill-fame as he lets us know -that he began to pay at this time. His brother Dmítry however led a -chaste life, and alternating with gross lapses of conduct, we find Leo -noting down for his own guidance such resolutions as the following: - - To regard the society of women as a necessary unpleasantness of - social life, and to keep away from them as much as possible. - From whom indeed do we get sensuality, effeminacy, frivolity in - everything, and many other vices, if not from women? Whose fault is - it, if not women's, that we lose our innate qualities of boldness, - resolution, reasonableness, justice, etc.? Women are more receptive - than men, therefore in virtuous ages women were better than we; but - in the present depraved and vicious age they are worse than we are. - -During his years at the University, Tolstoy saw much of his brother -Dmítry, of whom he says: - - I remember also at the University that when my elder brother - Dmítry, suddenly in the passionate way natural to him devoted - himself to religion and began to attend all the Church services, - to fast, and to lead a pure and moral life, we all, and even our - elders, unceasingly held him up to ridicule and called him, for - some unknown reason, 'Noah.' I remember that Moúsin-Poúshkin (then - Curator of Kazán University), when inviting us to a dance at his - house, ironically remonstrated with my brother, who had declined - the invitation, and used the argument that even David danced before - the Ark. I sympathised with these jokes my elders made, and deduced - from them the conclusion that though it is necessary to learn the - catechism and go to church, one must not take such things too - seriously. (_Confession._) - -Again we read of this brother: - - His peculiarities became manifest, and are impressed on my mind - from the time of our life at Kazán. Formerly in Moscow I remember - that he did not fall in love, as Seryózha and I did, and was not - fond of dancing or of military pageants, but studied well and - strenuously.... At Kazán I, who had always imitated Seryózha, began - to grow depraved.... Not only at Kazán, but even earlier, I used - to take pains about my appearance. I tried to be elegant, _comme - il faut_. There was no trace of anything of this kind in Mítenka. - I think he never suffered from the usual vices of youth; he was - always serious thoughtful pure and resolute, though hot-tempered, - and whatever he did, he did to the best of his ability.... He wrote - verses with great facility. I remember how admirably he translated - Schiller's _Der Jüngling am Bache_, but he did not devote himself - to this occupation.... He grew up associating little with others, - always--except in his moments of anger--quiet and serious. He was - tall, rather thin, and not very strong, with long, large hands and - round shoulders. I do not know how or by what he was attracted at - so early an age towards a religious life, but it began in the very - first year of his University career. His religious aspirations - naturally directed him to Church life, and he devoted himself to - this with his usual thoroughness. - - In Mítenka there must have existed that valuable characteristic - which I believe my mother to have had, and which I knew in - Nikólenka, but of which I was altogether devoid--complete - indifference to other people's opinion about oneself. Until quite - lately (in old age) I have never been able to divest myself of - concern about people's opinion; but Mítenka was quite free from - this. I never remember on his face that restrained smile which - involuntarily appears when one is being praised. I always remember - his serious quiet sad, sometimes severe, almond-shaped hazel eyes. - Only in our Kazán days did we begin to pay particular attention to - him, and then merely because, while Seryózha and I attached great - importance to what was _comme il faut_--to externalities--he was - careless and untidy, and we condemned him for this. - - We others, especially Seryózha, kept up acquaintance with our - aristocratic comrades and other young men. Mítenka on the contrary - selected out of all the students a piteous-looking, poor, - shabbily dressed youth, Poluboyárinof [which may be translated - Half-noble]--whom a humorous fellow-student of ours called - Polubezobédof [Half-dinnerless]--and consorted only with him, and - with him prepared for the examinations.... We brothers, and even - our aunt, looked down on Mítenka with a certain contempt for his - low tastes and associates; and the same attitude was adopted by our - frivolous comrades. - -After their University days were over, Tolstoy saw little of his -brother Demetrius; so it will be convenient here to sacrifice -chronological sequence and say what more there is to tell of the -latter's life and death. The material is again supplied by Tolstoy's -Reminiscences. - - When we divided up the family property, according to custom the - estate where we lived, Yásnaya Polyána, was given to me. Seryózha, - as a lover of horses and according to his wish, received Pirogóvo, - where there was a stud. To Mítenka and Nikólenka were given the - two other estates: to Nikólenka, Nikolsky; to Mítenka, the Kursk - estate, Sher-batchóvka. I have kept a note of Mítenka's, showing - how he regarded the possession of serfs. The idea that it is - wrong, and that serfs ought to be liberated, was quite unknown in - our circle in the 'forties. The hereditary possession of serfs - seemed a necessary condition of life, and all that could be done - to prevent its being an evil, was to attend not only to their - material but also to their moral welfare. In this sense Mítenka - wrote very seriously naďvely and sincerely. Thinking he could not - do otherwise, he, a lad of twenty, when he left the University - took it upon himself to direct the morality of hundreds of peasant - families, and to do this (as Gógol recommended in his _Letters to a - Landowner_) by threats of punishments and by punishments.... But, - besides this duty to his serfs, there was another duty which at - that time it seemed impossible not to fulfil: namely, Military or - Civil service. And Mítenka decided to enter the Civil Service. - -Tolstoy proceeds to tell how his brother, desiring to be useful to his -country, chose legislation as his speciality, and going to Petersburg -astonished the Head of the Department as well as certain aristocratic -acquaintances by asking where he could find a place in which he could -be _useful_. The friend to whom he went for advice, regarded the -service of the State merely as a means of satisfying ambition, and -'such a question had probably never occurred to him before.' Eventually -we find Demetrius returning home discouraged, and taking up some local -work. All this, to some extent, helps us to understand Leo Tolstoy's -sceptical attitude towards the institution of Government, and his -strong belief that men in Government service are solely actuated by -selfish motives. - -Tolstoy continues: - - After we had both left the University, I lost sight of him. I - know he lived the same severe, abstemious life, knowing neither - wine tobacco nor, above all, women, till he was twenty-six, which - was very rare in those days. I know also that he associated with - monks and pilgrims.... I think I was already in the Caucasus when - an extraordinary change took place. He suddenly took to drinking - smoking wasting money and going with women. How it happened I do - not know; I did not see him at the time. I only know that his - seducer was a thoroughly immoral man of very attractive appearance, - the youngest son of Islényef [an uncle of the lady Leo Tolstoy - subsequently married]. - - In this life Mítenka remained the same serious religious man he - was in everything. He ransomed from the brothel a prostitute named - Másha, who was the first woman he knew, and took her into his - house. But this life did not last long. I believe it was less the - vicious and unhealthy life he led for some months in Moscow, than - his mental struggle and his qualms of conscience, that suddenly - destroyed his powerful organism. He became consumptive, went to - the country, was doctored in the provincial town, and took to his - bed in Orél, where I saw him for the last time just after the - Crimean war. He was in a dreadful state of emaciation: one could - even see how his enormous hand joined on to the two bones of his - lower arm; his face was all eyes, and they were still the same - beautiful serious eyes, with a penetrating expression of inquiry - in them. He was constantly coughing and spitting, but was loth to - die, and reluctant to believe he was dying. Poor pockmarked Másha, - whom he had rescued, was with him and nursed him. In my presence, - at his own wish, a wonder-working icon was brought. I remember the - expression of his face when he prayed to it.... He died a few days - later! - -Students of the didactic writings of Tolstoy's later years will notice -how closely his injunctions to a man to keep to the first woman, -whoever she be, with whom he has had intimate relations, correspond -with the line actually followed by his brother Demetrius. - -When Tolstoy left the University, however, these things were still -unthought of. Let us, before returning to the events of his own life at -that time, notice some books which he read between the ages of fourteen -and twenty-one. They included: - -The Sermon on the Mount from St. Matthew's Gospel, - - Rousseau's _Confession_ and _Émile_, and - Dickens's _David Copperfield_, - -which all had an 'immense' influence on him. - -In another category came works which he says had 'very great' -influence. These were: - - Rousseau's _Nouvelle Héloďse_, - Sterne's _Sentimental Journey_, - Poúshkin's _Eugene Onégin_, - Schiller's _The Robbers_, - Gógol's _Dead Souls_, - Tourgénef's _A Sportsman's Sketches_, - Drouzhínin's _Pólenka Sax_, - Grigoróvitch's _Antón Goremýka_, and the chapter _Tamán_ from - Lérmontof's _A Hero of Our Times_. - -In a third category he mentions some of Gógol's Shorter Stories, and -Prescott's _Conquest of Mexico_, as having had 'great' influence. - -In these works one finds many ideas which have been congenial to -Tolstoy throughout his life, and his adhesion to which has only become -firmer with age. In illustration of this, take a couple of passages -from Dickens which many readers may have passed without much attention, -but which to Tolstoy represented the absolute truth of the matters they -touch on. David Copperfield says of Parliament: - - ...I considered myself reasonably entitled to escape from the - dreary debates. One joyful night, therefore, I noted down the music - of the parliamentary bagpipes for the last time, and I have never - heard it since; though I still recognise the old drone in the - newspapers without any substantial variation (except, perhaps, that - there is more of it) all the livelong session. - -To most Englishmen with memories of Pym and Hampden, or personal -knowledge of the lives of men who have devoted themselves -disinterestedly to public affairs, Parliamentary or local, Dickens's -sneer at Parliament seems but a paradox or a joke; but to Tolstoy, -with his inherited dislike of Government, this testimony from a great -English writer (who had served as a Parliamentary reporter) seemed -irrefutable evidence of the futility of Parliaments. - -Take, again, a passage in which Dickens hits a nail adroitly on the -head: - - Mr. Micawber had a relish in this formal piling up of words, which, - however ludicrously displayed in his case, was, I must say, not - at all peculiar to him. I have observed it, in the course of my - life, in numbers of men. It seems to me to be a general rule. In - the taking of legal oaths, for instance, deponents seem to enjoy - themselves mightily when they come to several grand words in - succession, for the expression of one idea--as, that they utterly - detest, abominate, and abjure, and so forth--and the old anathemas - were made relishing on the same principle. We talk about the - tyranny of words, but we like to tyrannise over them too. We are - fond of having a large superfluous establishment of words to wait - upon us on great occasions; we think it looks important, and sounds - well. As we are not particular about the meaning of our liveries on - State occasions, if they be but fine and numerous enough, so the - meaning or necessity of our words is a secondary consideration, if - there be but a great parade of them. - -No modern writer has ever more carefully eschewed the practice Dickens -here attacks than Tolstoy has done throughout his career. Indeed, he is -far stricter than Dickens in this respect. - -But much more important than the influence of Dickens was that of -Rousseau, of whom Tolstoy once remarked: - - I have read the whole of Rousseau--all his twenty volumes, - including his _Dictionary of Music_. I was more than enthusiastic - about him, I worshipped him. At the age of fifteen I wore a - medallion portrait of him next my body instead of the Orthodox - cross. Many of his pages are so akin to me that it seems to me that - I must have written them myself. - -Another writer who influenced Tolstoy, though to a very much smaller -extent, was Voltaire, of whom he says: - - I also remember that I read Voltaire when I was very young, and his - ridicule (of religion) not only did not shock me, but amused me - very much. - -Everything Tolstoy has done in his life he has done with intensity; and -that this applies to the way in which he read books in his youth, is -shown by the fact that we find him as an old man, in 1898, in _What is -Art?_ according the highest praise to books he had read before he was -twenty-one, or even before he was fourteen. - -It was in the spring of 1847 that Tolstoy, who was not yet nineteen, -returned to his estate of Yásnaya Polyána, to live with his dear Aunty -Tatiána; to 'perfect' himself, to study, to manage his estate, and to -improve the condition of his serfs. The last part of this programme, at -any rate, was not destined to have much success. Though one must never -treat Tolstoy's fiction as strictly autobiographical, yet _A Squire's -Morning_ gives a very fair idea of his own efforts to improve the lot -of his serfs, and of the difficulties and failures he encountered in -the course of that attempt. In that story Prince Nehlúdof decides to -leave the University and settle in the country, and writes to his aunt: - - As I already wrote you, I found affairs in indescribable disorder. - Wishing to put them right, I discovered that the chief evil is the - truly pitiable, wretched condition of the serfs, and this is an - evil that can only be remedied by work and patience. If you could - but see two of my serfs, David and Iván, and the life they and - their families lead, I am sure the sight of these two poor wretches - would convince you more than all I can say in explanation of my - intention. - - Is it not my plain and sacred duty to care for the welfare of - these seven hundred people for whom I must account to God? Will it - not be a sin if, following plans of pleasure or ambition, I abandon - them to the caprice of coarse Elders and stewards? And why should - I seek in any other sphere opportunities of being useful and doing - good, when I have before me such a noble brilliant and intimate - duty? - -Not only is this letter just such as Tolstoy himself may have written, -but the difficulties Nehlúdof encounters when he tries to move his -peasants from the ruts to which generations of serfdom had accustomed -them, are just those Tolstoy himself met with: the suspicion shown by -the serfs towards any fresh interference on the part of the master, -and the fact that ways to which a community have grown accustomed are -not easily changed by the sudden effort of a well-intentioned but -inexperienced proprietor. - -After spending the summer of 1847 at Yásnaya, Tolstoy went to -Petersburg, where we find him settled in autumn; and early next year he -entered for examination at the University of that city. - - -1848 - -On the 13th of the following February he wrote to his brother Sergius: - - I write you this letter from Petersburg, where I intend to remain - _for ever_.... I have decided to stay here for my examinations and - then to enter the service.... - - In brief, I must say that Petersburg life has a great and food - influence on me: it accustoms me to activity and supplies the place - of a fixed table of occupations. Somehow one cannot be idle; every - one is occupied and active; one cannot find a man with whom one - could lead an aimless life, and one can't do it alone.... - - I know you will not believe that I have changed, but will say, - 'It's already the twentieth time, and nothing comes of you--the - emptiest of fellows.' No, I have now altered in quite a new way. I - used to say to myself: 'Now I will change,' but at last I see that - I _have_ changed, and I say, 'I have changed.' - - Above all, I am now quite convinced that one cannot live by - theorising and philosophising, but must live positively, _i.e._ - must be a practical man. That is a great step in advance and a - great change; it never happened to me before. If one is young and - wishes to live, there is no place in Russia but Petersburg for - it.... - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY IN 1848, AFTER HE HAD LEFT THE UNIVERSITY.] - -On the 1st of May he wrote again to his brother, in a very different -strain: - - Seryózha! I think you already say I am 'the emptiest of fellows,' - and it is true. God knows what I have done! I came to Petersburg - without any reason, and have done nothing useful here, but have - spent heaps of money and got into debt. Stupid! Insufferably - stupid! You can't believe how it torments me. Above all, the - _debts_, which I _must_ pay _as soon as possible_, because if I - don't pay them soon, besides losing the money, I shall lose my - reputation.... I know you will cry out; but what's to be done? - One commits such folly once in a lifetime. I have had to pay for - my freedom (there was no one to thrash me, that was my chief - misfortune) and for philosophising, and now I have paid for it. - Be so kind as to arrange to get me out of this false and horrid - position--penniless and in debt all round. - -He goes on to mention that he had passed two examinations at the -University, but that he had altered his mind, and now, instead of -completing his examinations, wanted to 'enter the Horse Guards as a -Junker.' (A Junker was a young man who volunteered for the army as a -Cadet. Before receiving a commission, a Junker lived with the officers, -while preparing to become one of them.) - - God willing, I will amend and become a steady man at last, I - hope much from my service as a Junker, which will train me to - practical life, and _nolens-volens_ I shall have to earn the rank - of officer. With luck, _i.e._ if the Guards go into action, I may - get a commission even before the usual two years are up. The Guards - start for the front at the end of May. At present I can do nothing: - first, because I have no money (of which I shall not need much, - I fancy), and secondly, because my two birth-certificates are at - Yásnaya. Have them sent on as soon as possible. - -Before long, Tolstoy was again writing to his brother: - - In my last letter I wrote much nonsense, of which the chief item - was that I intended to enter the Horse Guards; I shall act on that - plan only in case I fail in my examinations, and if the war is a - serious one. - -The war in question was Russia's share in quelling the Hungarian -rebellion of 1849. Not a thought of the justice or otherwise of the -cause seems at that time to have crossed the mind of him who in later -life became so powerful an indicter of war. - -This is Tolstoy's own summary, written many years later, of the period -we are now dealing with: - - It was very pleasant living in the country with Aunty Tatiána, but - an indefinite thirst for knowledge drew me away to a distance. - This was in 1848, and I was still uncertain what to undertake. In - Petersburg two roads were open to me. I could either enter the - army, to take part in the Hungarian campaign, or I could complete - my studies at the University, to enter the Civil Service. My - thirst for knowledge conquered my ambition, and I again began to - study. I even passed two examinations in Law, but then all my good - resolutions broke down. Spring came, and the charm of country life - again drew me back to my estate. - -Of the two examinations he passed at this time he says: - - In 1848 I went to pass the examinations for my degree at Petersburg - University, knowing literally nothing, and reading up during only - one week. I worked day and night; and passed with Honours in Civil - and Criminal Law. - -But in spite of this success he did not take the remaining -examinations, and returned to Yásnaya without having obtained a -degree--finally abandoning the attempt to do so. - -In later times, when Tolstoy's reputation was world-wide, critics -often amused themselves by detecting inconsistencies in his conduct -and questioning his sincerity. But the proof of his sincerity is writ -large in the story of his life. Time after time, from the earliest -pages of his Diary, we find him vehemently resolving never more to do -certain things, but always to do other things, and again and again -confessing in the greatest tribulation, that he had failed to carry -out his intentions; yet in spite of everything he returns, and again -returns, to his earliest ideals and gradually shapes his life into -accord with them, and eventually forms habits which, when he first -extolled them, appeared utterly beyond his reach. Not insincerity -but impetuosity, retrieved by extraordinary tenacity of purpose, has -always characterised him. It was the same with his thirst for knowledge -as with his yet deeper thirst after righteousness. Often as he was -swayed by the lures of life, each of those two great desires found its -satisfaction at last. - -The letters quoted above show some consciousness of the fact that there -is a practical side to life not to be mastered by theorising; but the -duty of learning by experience as well as by ratiocination is one -Tolstoy has very seldom dwelt on, and never, I think, realised at all -fully. - -Another characteristic matter alluded to in these letters is the -difficulty he found himself in for lack of his birth-certificates -and other papers. Russia has long suffered from a superabundance of -red tape, which contrasts strongly with the slipshod habits of its -people, and promotes the hatred of officialism that is there so common. -The fact that Tolstoy has on several occasions been put to great -inconvenience for lack of certificates, which it was not in his nature -methodically to keep in readiness, is a small matter, but it has -probably had its share in increasing his strong dislike of governments. - -From Petersburg he brought back with him to Yásnaya a gifted but -drunken German musician named Rudolph, with whom he had chanced to make -acquaintance, and whose talent he had discerned. For some time Tolstoy -devoted himself passionately to music, acquiring sufficient skill on -the piano to become an excellent and sympathetic accompanist. He was -always very susceptible to the influence of music, and in music, as in -literature, he had strong sympathies and antipathies. Rudolph supplies -the principal figure in Tolstoy's story _Albert_, written several years -later. - -Aunt Tatiána, who had played the piano excellently in youth, but had -quite given it up for nearly thirty years, and who was now fifty-three -years of age, resumed its practice and, Tolstoy tells us, played duets -with him, and often surprised him by the accuracy and beauty of her -execution. - -For the next three years he lived partly at Yásnaya and partly in -Moscow, and led a life alternating between the asceticism of his -brother Demetrius and the self-indulgence of his brother Sergius; -with dissipation, hunting, gambling, and the society of gipsy-girl -singers. These were among the wildest and most wasted years of his -life; but even here we find him, in the summer of 1850, resuming his -Diary with penitence and self-reproach, and drawing up a time-table of -how his days are in future to be spent: estate management, bathing, -diary-writing, music, dinner, rest, reading, bathing, and again estate -business to close the day. This curriculum was, however, neglected. -Gusts of passion again swept away his good resolutions. - - -1849 - -At this time he made his first attempt to start a school for the -peasant children of Yásnaya; but it was closed again two years later -when he was in pecuniary difficulties; and it was not till 1862 that -he discovered that he had infringed the law by opening it without -official permission. - -In relation to women, Tolstoy's ideal was a regular and affectionate -family life. Women were for him divided into two groups: those sacred -ones who could be looked on as possible wives or sisters, and those -who, like the gipsy singers, could be paid for and possessed for short -periods. To try to wipe out by a money payment any obligation arising -from intimate relations, seems to have been his fixed rule. His animal -passions were very strong, and late in life I have heard him say that -neither drinking, cards, smoking, nor any other bad habit, had been -nearly so hard for him to overcome as his desire for women. But he -never doubted that that desire was a bad one. To judge him fairly, it -must be remembered how loose was the general tone of the society in -which he lived, and that the advice given him at this critical time of -his life by those who were his natural guides, was not that he should -live a chaste life, but that he should attach himself to a woman of -good social position. In his _Confession_ he tells us: - - The kind aunt with whom I lived, herself the purest of beings, - always told me that there was nothing she so desired for me as - that I should have relations with a married woman: '_Rien ne forme - un jeune homme, comme une liaison avec une femme comme il faut_' - [Nothing so forms a young man, as an intimacy with a woman of - good breeding]. Another happiness she desired for me was that I - should become an aide-de-camp, and if possible aide-de-camp to the - Emperor. But the greatest happiness of all would be that I should - marry a very rich girl and become possessed of as many serfs as - possible. - -We never find Tolstoy involved in any family scandal, or called on to -fight a duel about women; but his Diary at this period contains many -traces of his struggles and his falls; as when he writes: - - Men whom I consider morally lower than myself, do evil better - than I.... I live an animal life, though not quite debauched. My - occupations are almost all abandoned, and I am greatly depressed in - spirit. - -His pecuniary affairs became disordered, owing to his gambling and -other bad habits, and towards the end of 1850 he thought of trying to -earn money by taking on a contract to run the post-station at Toúla, -which before railways were built was an undertaking of some importance. -Varied however as Tolstoy's abilities unquestionably are, Nature never -intended him to be a man of business, and this plan fortunately came to -nothing. - - -1850-1851 - -The winter of 1850-51 he passed for the most part in Moscow, and as -a foretaste of the simplification of life which was to be such a -prominent feature of his later years, we find him writing to his aunt -at Yásnaya: '_Je dîne ŕ la maison avec des stchi et kasha dont je me -contente parfaitement_' [I dine at home on cabbage soup and buckwheat -porridge, with which I am quite contented]; and he goes on to say that -he only awaits the preserves and home-made liqueurs (which she no doubt -sent him) to have everything as he was accustomed to have it in the -country. - -We find Aunty Tatiána warning him against card-playing. Tolstoy replies -in French: - - [3]Tout ce que vous me dîtes au sujet de la perversité du jeu est - trčs vrai et me revient souvent ŕ l'esprit. C'est pourquoi je crois - que je ne jouerai plus.... 'Je crois,' mais j'espčre bientôt vous - dire pour sűr. - - [3] All that you say about the perversity of play is very - true, and I often think about it, and that is why I believe - that I shall gamble no more.... 'I believe,' but I hope soon - to tell you for certain. - - -1851 - -In March 1851 he returned to Moscow after visiting Yásnaya, and he -notes in his Diary that he went there with the treble aim of playing -cards, getting married, and entering the Civil Service. Not one of -these three objects was attained. He took an aversion to cards. For -marriage he considered a conjunction of love, reason, and fate to be -necessary, and none of these was present. As to entering the service, -it was again the fact that he had not brought the necessary documents -with him that barred the way. - -In March he writes to Aunty Tatiána and says he believes it to be true -that spring brings a moral renovation. It always does him good, and he -is able to maintain his good intentions for some months. Winter is the -season that causes him to go wrong. - -Next came a period of religious humility: he fasted diligently and -composed a sermon, which of course was never preached. He also tried -unsuccessfully to write a gipsy story and an imitation of Sterne's -_Sentimental Journey_. - -This period of his life was brought to a close by the return from the -Caucasus, on leave of absence, of his eldest brother Nicholas, who was -by this time an artillery officer. - -Anxious to economise and pay off the debts he had contracted at cards, -especially one of Rs. 4000 to Ogaryóf, a gendarme officer, who owned -a small estate not far from Yásnaya, Leo resolved to accompany his -brother on the latter's return to the Caucasus. He entrusted his estate -to the care of his brother-in-law (Mary's husband), who was to pay his -debts and allow him only Rs. 500 (then equal to about Ł80) a year to -live on, and he gave his word not to play cards any more. - -Tolstoy had another reason for wishing to escape from his accustomed -surroundings. His brother Sergius was very fond of the gipsy choirs, -famous in Russia for their musical talent. These choirs used to visit -Yásnaya, and Leo Tolstoy, who shared his brother's susceptibility to -the fascinations of the gipsy girls, saw a means of safety in flight to -the Caucasus. - -Before closing this chapter, let us note the extraordinary freedom -enjoyed by young men of Tolstoy's class in those days of serfdom. -Economically, serfdom supplied them with means, at the expense of a -class deprived of almost all rights and absolutely dependent on their -owners. Even if a member of the aristocracy ruined himself, family -interest or a prudent marriage often retrieved the position for -him. Religious restraint counted for little, for side by side with -superstition, scepticism was common among the educated. The standard -of morals expected of a young man was elastic and ill-defined. No -irksome sense of public duty pressed on his attention. Politics, in -our sense of the word, were forbidden; and though he had to enter the -State service (civil or military), this was regarded either as a way of -making a career for himself, or as a mere formality. - -The detachment from the real business of life in which young Russians -grew up, and the comparative isolation in which they lived on their -country estates, explain the extremely radical conclusions often -arrived at by those of them who wished to make the world better. Chain -a man to the heavily laden car of social progress, and he can only -advance very slowly, though any advance he does accomplish represents -much effort and is of practical importance. Detach him from that car, -and he may easily and pleasantly fly away on the winds of speculation -to the uttermost realm of the highest heaven, without its producing -any immediately perceptible result on the lives of his fellow-men. -What I mean is, that the less a man is involved in practical work, the -easier and pleasanter it is for him to take up extreme positions; I -do not mean to deny that activity in the realm of thought and feeling -exerts an unseen yet potent influence on other minds, and ultimately on -practical affairs. - -A knowledge of the social surroundings in which Tolstoy grew up makes -it easier to understand the doctrines he subsequently taught. It was -partly because he grew up in a detached and irresponsible position that -the state of his own mind and soul were to him so much more important -than the immediate effect of his conduct on others, and the same cause -led him to remain in ignorance of lessons every intelligent man of -business among us learns of necessity. - -His independent position made easier the formation of that state of -mind free from intellectual prejudice which enabled him later on to -examine the claims of the Church, of the Bible, of the economists, of -governments, and the most firmly established manners and customs of -society, untrammelled by the fear of shocking or hurting other people, -though all the time his feelings were so sensitive that it has never -been possible for him to doubt or question the goodness of those lines -of conduct which he had admired and approved when in childhood he saw -them practised by those near and dear to him. - -Contrasting his moral attitude with that of a young Englishman anxious -to do right in our day, I should say that Tolstoy had no adequate sense -of being a responsible member of a complex community with the opinions -and wishes of which it is necessary to reckon. On the contrary, his -tendency was to recognise with extraordinary vividness a personal duty -revealed by the working of his own conscience and intellect apart from -any systematic study of the social state of which he was a member. - -He thus came to see things in a way we do not see them, while he -remained blind to some things with which we are quite familiar. That is -one reason why he is so extraordinarily interesting: he puts things in -a way no Englishman would ever dream of putting them, and yet we feel -how near akin we of the Western twentieth-century world are to this -nineteenth-century Russian noble, who has so much in common with the -medieval saint and the Oriental fatalist; and this helps us to realise -that all nations and classes of men are, indeed, of one blood. - -Later on, in the sequel to this work, when we have to deal with -Tolstoy's peaceful anarchism and his conviction that no external -regulation of society is necessary, but that all men would naturally -do right were they not hampered by man-made laws, it will be useful to -bear in mind that his own strength grew through having to steer unaided -through the stormy seas of passion, and from finding his own way to a -haven the lights of which had first shone on him in childhood. Like the -rest of mankind, he judges others by himself. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER II - -Birukof. - -Behrs. - -_Novy Mir._ - -_Education and Instruction_, and _On the Education of the People_, in -vol. iv. of Tolstoy's collected works: Moscow, 1903. - -_Confession._ Published by the _Svobodnoe Slovo_, Christchurch, 1901. - -Prof. Zagoskin, _Stoudentcheskie gody gr. Tolstogo_, in _Istoritchesky -Vestnik_: January 1894. - -V. N. Nazaryef, _Zhizn i ludi bylogo vremeni_, in _Istoritchesky -Vestnik_: November 1900. - -Tolstoy's talk with Pogodin, quoted in Mihaylovsky's _Literary -Recollections_: Petersburg, 1900. - -_L. N. Tolstoy._ By E. Solovef: Petersburg, 1897. - -Light is also thrown on this period by Tolstoy's _Childhood_, -_Boyhood_, and _Youth_, _The Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_, _Two -Hussars_, _A Squire's Morning_, and _Albert_ (which, however, are not -autobiographies), as well as by stories included in Tolstoy's Readers -for School-children--_The Old Horse_ and _How I Learned to Ride_. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE CAUCASUS - -Journey. Russian Conquest. Letters to Aunt Tatiána. Diary. Cossacks. He -volunteers. Enters army. Hádji Mourát. Story of a gaming debt. Sádo. -Dreams for the future. _Childhood._ Shooting. Boúlka. Slow promotion. -_The Raid._ The Censor. Danger. Applies for discharge. Applies to -Gortchakóf. _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker._ Receives his commission. -His retrospect. - - -1851 - -THE brothers Nicholas and Leo left Yásnaya Polyána on 20th April -1851, and spent a couple of weeks in Moscow. The frankness of Leo's -intercourse with his Aunt Tatiána is illustrated by the following -letter which he wrote, telling her of a visit he paid to Sokólniki, a -pleasant outskirt of Moscow on the borders of a pine forest, where a -fęte is held on May-day. - -That he wrote in French is explained by the fact that Tatiána, like -many Russian ladies educated early in the nineteenth century, knew -French better than she did Russian. - - [4]J'ai été ŕ la promenade de Sokólniki par un temps détestable, - c'est pourquoi je n'ai rencontré personne des dames de la - société, que j'avais envie de voir. Comme vous prétendez que je - suis un homme ŕ épreuves, je suis allé parmi les plébs, dans les - tentes bohémiennes. Vous pouvez aisément vous figurer le combat - intérieur qui s'engagea lŕ-bas pour et contre. Au reste j'en sortis - victorieux, c.ŕ d. n'ayant rien donné que ma bénédiction aux joyeux - descendants des illustres Pharaons. Nicolas trouve que je suis un - compagnon de voyage trčs agréable, si ce n'était ma propreté. Il se - fâche de ce que, comme il le dit, je change de linge 12 fois par - jour. Moi je le trouve aussi compagnon trčs agréable, si ce n'était - sa saleté. Je ne sais lequel de nous a raison. - - [4] I went to the fęte at Sokólniki in detestable weather, - which was why I did not meet any of the society ladies I - wished to see. As you say I am a man who tests himself, I went - among the plebs in the gipsy tents. You can easily imagine the - inward struggle I there experienced, for and against. However, - I came out victorious: that is to say, having given nothing - but my blessing to the gay descendants of the illustrious - Pharaohs. Nicholas considers me a very agreeable travelling - companion, except for my cleanliness. He is cross because he - says I change my linen 12 times a day. I also find him a very - agreeable companion, except for his dirtiness. I do not know - which of us is right. - -On leaving Moscow, instead of travelling to the Caucasus by the usual -route _viâ_ Vorónesh, Nicholas Tolstoy, who liked to do things his own -way, decided that they would drive first to Kazán. Here they stayed a -week, visiting acquaintances, and that was long enough for Leo to fall -in love with a young lady to whom his shyness prevented his expressing -his sentiments. He left for the Caucasus bearing his secret with him, -and we hear no more of the matter. - -From Kazán they drove to Sarátof, where they hired a boat large enough -to take their travelling carriage on board, and with a crew of three -men, made their way down the Vólga to Astrakhán, sometimes rowing, -sometimes sailing, and sometimes drifting with the stream. - -The scorn of luxury and social distinctions so prominent in Tolstoy's -later philosophy, was at this period more to the taste of his brother -Nicholas. A gentleman drove past them in Kazán leaning on his -walking-stick with ungloved hands, and that was sufficient to cause Leo -to speak of him contemptuously, whereupon Nicholas, in his usual tone -of good-natured irony, wanted to know why a man should be despised for -not wearing gloves. - -From Astrakhán they had still to drive some two hundred and seventy -miles to reach Starogládovsk, where Nicholas Tolstoy's battery was -stationed. The whole journey from Moscow, including the stay in Kazán, -took nearly a month. - -It may be convenient here to explain why the Russians were then -fighting in the Caucasus. Georgia, situated to the south of the -Caucasian Mountains, had been voluntarily annexed to Russia in 1799 to -escape the oppression of Persia; and it therefore became politically -desirable for Russia to subdue the tribes that separated her from her -newly acquired dependency. During the first half of the nineteenth -century this task proceeded very slowly, but at the time we are -speaking of, Prince Baryatínsky, in command of the Russian forces -stationed on the left bank of the river Térek, which flows into the -Caspian Sea, was undertaking a series of expeditions against the -hostile native tribes. Up to that time the Russians had held hardly -anything south of the Térek and north of the Caucasian Mountains, -except their own forts and encampments; but in less than another -decade, Baryatínsky had captured Shámyl (the famous leader who so long -defied Russia) and had subdued the whole country. - -Soon after the brothers Tolstoy arrived at Starogládovsk, Nicholas was -ordered to the fortified camp at Goryatchevódsk ('Hot Springs'), an -advanced post recently established to protect the invalids who availed -themselves of those mineral waters. - -Here Leo Tolstoy first saw, and was deeply impressed by, the beauty of -the magnificent mountain range which he has so well described in _The -Cossacks_. In July 1851 he wrote to his Aunt Tatiána: - - [5]Nicolas est parti dans une semaine aprčs son arrivée, et moi je - l'y suivis, de sorte que nous sommes presque depuis trois semaines - ici oů nous logeons dans une tente. Mais comme le temps est beau et - que je me fais un peu ŕ ce genre de vie, je me trouve trčs bien. - Ici il y a des coups d'oeil magnifiques, ŕ commencer par l'endroit - oů sont les sources. C'est une énorme montagne de pierres l'une sur - l'autre, dont les unes se sont détachées et forment des espčces de - grottes, les autres restent suspendues ŕ une grande hauteur. Elles - sont toutes coupées par les courants d'eau chaude, qui tombent avec - bruit dans quelques endroits et couvrent surtout le matin toute la - partie élevée de la montagne d'une vapeur blanche qui se détache - continuellement de cette eau bouillante. L'eau est tellement chaude - qu'on cuit dedans les oeufs _hard_ en trois minutes. Au milieu - de ce ravin sur le torrent principal il y a trois moulins, l'un - au-dessus de l'autre, qui sont construits d'une maničre toute - particuličre et trčs pittoresque. Toute la journée les femmes - tartares ne cessent de venir au-dessus et au-dessous de ces moulins - pour laver leur linge. II faut vous dire qu'elles lavent avec les - pieds. C'est comme une fourmiličre toujours remuante. Les femmes - sont pour la plupart belles et bien faites. Les costumes des - femmes orientales malgré leur pauvreté, sont gracieux. Les groupes - pittoresques que forment les femmes, joint ŕ la beauté sauvage de - l'endroit fait un coup d'oeil véritablement admirable. Je reste - trčs souvent des heures ŕ admirer ce paysage. Puis le coup d'oeil - du haut de la montagne est encore plus beau et tout ŕ fait dans un - autre genre. Mais je crains de vous ennuyer avec mes descriptions. - - Je suis trčs content d'ętre aux eaux puisque j'en profite. Je - prends des bains ferrugineux et je ne sens plus de douleur aux - pieds. - - [5] Nicholas left within a week of his arrival and I have - followed him, so that we have now been almost three weeks - here, lodging in a tent But as the weather is fine and I am - getting accustomed to this kind of life, I feel very well. - There are magnificent views here, beginning where the springs - are situated. It is an enormous mountain of rocks one upon - another, some of which are detached and form, as it were, - grottoes; others remain suspended at a great height. They are - all intersected by torrents of hot water which fall noisily in - certain parts and, especially in the morning, cover the whole - upper part of the mountain with a white vapour which this - boiling water continually gives off. The water is so hot that - one can boil eggs hard in three minutes. In the middle of this - ravine, by the chief torrent, stand three mills one above the - other, built in a quite peculiar and very picturesque manner. - All day long, above and below these mills, Tartar women come - unceasingly to wash clothes. I should mention that they wash - with their feet. It is like an ant-hill, always in motion. - The women, for the most part, are beautiful and well formed. - In spite of their poverty the costumes of Oriental women are - graceful. The picturesque groups formed by the women, added - to the savage beauty of the place, furnish a really admirable - _coup d'oeil_. I very often remain for hours admiring the - view. Then again, in quite a different way, the view from the - top of the mountain is even more beautiful. But I fear to - weary you with my descriptions. - - I am very glad to be at the springs, for I benefit by them. I - take ferruginous baths, and no longer have pain in my feet. - -As showing how hot these springs were, it may be mentioned that a dog -belonging to Nicholas tumbled into the water and was scalded to death. - -The officers Tolstoy met, he found to be men without education, and he -wrote: 'At first many things in this society shocked me, but I have -accustomed myself to them, without however attaching myself to these -gentlemen. I have found a happy mean, in which there is neither pride -nor familiarity.' He was helped by the fact that Nicholas was popular -with every one; and, by adopting the plan of having vódka, wine, and -something to eat always ready for those who dropped in to see him, he -succeeded in keeping on good terms with these men, though he did not -care to know them intimately. - -The following extract from his Diary preserves the record of the -rapidly changing moods he experienced in those days. Soon after -reaching the Caucasus he noted: - - STARY URT, _11th June 1851_. - - Yesterday I hardly slept all night. Having posted up my Diary, I - prayed to God. It is impossible to convey the sweetness of the - feeling I experienced during my prayer. I said the prayers I - usually repeat by heart: 'Our Father,' 'To the Virgin,' etc., and - still remained in prayer. If one defines prayer as a petition or as - thanksgiving, then I did not pray. I desired something supreme and - good; but what, I cannot express, though I was clearly conscious - of what I wanted. I wished to merge into the Universal Being. I - asked Him to pardon my crimes; yet no, I did not ask that, for I - felt that if He had given me this blissful moment, He had pardoned - me. I asked, and at the same time felt that I had nothing to ask, - and that I cannot and do not know how to ask; I thanked Him, but - not with words or thoughts. I combined in one feeling both petition - and gratitude. Fear quite vanished. I could not have separated any - one emotion--faith, hope or love--from the general feeling. No, - this was what I experienced yesterday: it was love of God, lofty - love, uniting in itself all that is good, excluding all that is - bad. How dreadful it was to me to see the trivial and vicious side - of life! I could not understand its having any attraction for me. - How I asked God with a pure heart to accept me into His bosom! I - did not feel the flesh.... But no, the carnal, trivial side again - asserted itself, and before an hour had passed I almost consciously - heard the voice of vice, vanity, and the empty side of life; I knew - whence that voice came, knew it had ruined my bliss! I struggled - against it, and yet yielded to it. I fell asleep thinking of fame - and of women; but it was not my fault, I could not help it. - -Again, on 2nd July, after writing down reflections on suffering and -death, he concludes: - - How strong I seem to myself to be against all that can happen; - how firm in the conviction that one must expect nothing here but - death; yet a moment later I am thinking with pleasure of a saddle - I have ordered, on which I shall ride dressed in a Cossack cloak, - and of how I shall carry on with the Cossack girls; and I fall into - despair because my left moustache is higher than my right, and for - two hours I straighten it out before the looking-glass. - -By August he was back again at Starogládovsk, and, full of energy, -risked his life as a volunteer in expeditions against the Circassians. -Having met Ilyá Tolstoy, an officer and a relation, he was introduced -by him to the Commander-in-Chief, General Baryatínsky. The latter had -noticed Leo Tolstoy during one of the expeditions, and on making his -acquaintance complimented him on his bravery and advised him to enter -the army. Ilyá Tolstoy urged the same advice, and Leo accepted it. -Towards the end of October he went a tiresome but beautiful seven-days' -journey to Tiflis, where he had to pass the examination qualifying him -to become a Junker (Cadet). From there he wrote to his Aunt Tatiána -a letter containing the first intimation of the vocation that was -ultimately to make him far more famous than Baryatínsky himself: - - [6]Vous rappelez-vous, bonne tante, un conseil que vous m'avez - donné jadis--celui de faire des romans? Eh bien! je suis votre - conseil et les occupations dont je vous parle consistent ŕ faire - de la littérature. Je ne sais si ce que j'écris paraîtra jamais - dans le monde, mais c'est un travail qui m'amuse et dans lequel je - persévčre depuis trop longtemps pour l'abandonner. - - [6] Do you remember, dear Aunt, the advice you once gave - me--to write novels? Well, I am following your advice, and - the occupation I mentioned to you consists in producing - literature. I do not know if what I am writing will ever be - published, but it is work that amuses me, and in which I have - persevered too long to abandon it. - -For two months he lived in the 'German' suburb of Tiflis, paying Rs. 5 -a month (at that time equal to about 16s.) for his two-roomed lodging; -disturbed by no one, writing _Childhood_, and trying to enter the -army--the main obstacle to which was that, as usual, he found himself -without his birth-certificate and other documents. He seldom enjoyed -good health for many consecutive months, and during his stay in Tiflis -he was confined to the house for some weeks by illness. At last, on -23rd December 1851, he was able to write to his brother, Sergius, -announcing that in a few days he expected to receive his appointment as -Junker in the 4th battery of artillery, and that on the day he received -it he would set out for Starogládovsk, and from there go on campaign, -and to the best of his ability 'assist, with the aid of a cannon, in -destroying the predatory and turbulent Asiatics.' He goes on to tell of -hunting. He had been out nine times, and had killed two foxes and about -sixty grey hares. He had also hunted wild boar and deer, but had not -killed any. - -In the same letter Tolstoy mentions Hádji Mourát, the hero of a tale -he wrote more than fifty years later, and that has been put aside for -posthumous publication. He says: 'If you wish to show off with news -from the Caucasus, you may recount that a certain Hádji Mourát (the -second in importance to Shámyl himself) surrendered a few days ago to -the Russian Government. He was the leading dare-devil and "brave" in -all Circassia, but was led to commit a mean action.' - - -1852 - -A little later, on 6th January 1852, we find him again in Tiflis, -writing to Aunt Tatiána. - - [7]Je viens de recevoir votre lettre du 24 Novembre et je vous - y réponds le moment męme (comme j'en ai pris l'habitude). - Derničrement je vous écrivais que votre lettre m'a fait pleurer et - j'accusai ma maladie de cette faiblesse. J'ai eu tort. Toutes vos - lettres me font depuis quelque temps le męme effet. J'ai toujours - été _Lyóva-ryóva_ [Leo, Cry-baby]. Avant cette faiblesse me faisait - honte, mais les larmes que je verse en pensant ŕ vous et ŕ votre - amour pour nous, sont tellement douces que je les laisse couler, - sans aucune fausse-honte. Votre lettre est trop pleine de tristesse - pour qu'elle ne produise pas sur moi le męme effet. C'est vous qui - toujours m'avez donné des conseils et quoique malheureusement je - ne les aie pas suivis quelquefois, je voudrais toute ma vie n'agir - que d'aprčs vos avis. Permettez-moi pour le moment de vous dire - l'effet qu'a produit sur moi votre lettre et les idées qui me sont - venues en la lisant. Si je vous parle trop franchement je sais que - vous me le pardonnerez en faveur de l'amour que j'ai pour vous. En - disant que c'est votre tour de nous quitter pour aller rejoindre - ceux qui ne sont plus et que vous avez tant aimés, en disant que - vous demandez ŕ Dieu de mettre un terme ŕ votre existence qui vous - semble si insupportable et isolée,--pardon, chčre tante, mais il - me paraît qu'en disant cela vous offensez Dieu et moi et nous tous - qui vous aimons tant. Vous demandez ŕ Dieu la mort, c. ŕ dire le - plus grand malheur qui puisse m'arriver (ce n'est pas une phrase, - mais Dieu m'est témoin que les deux plus grands malheurs qui - puissent m'arriver ce serait votre mort ou celle de Nicolas--les - deux personnes que j'aime plus que moi-męme). Que resterait-il - pour moi si Dieu exauçait votre pričre? Pour faire plaisir ŕ qui, - voudrais-je devenir meilleur, avoir de bonnes qualités, avoir une - bonne réputation dans le monde? Quand je fais des plans de bonheur - pour moi, l'idée que vous partagerez et jouirez de mon bonheur - m'est toujours présente. Quand je fais quelque chose de bon, je - suis content de moi-męme, parce que je sais que vous serez contente - de moi. Quand j'agis mal, ce que je crains le plus--c'est de vous - faire du chagrin. Votre amour est tout pour moi, et vous demandez - ŕ Dieu qu'il nous sépare! Je ne puis vous dire le sentiment que - j'ai pour vous, la parole ne suffit pas pour vous l'exprimer et je - crains que vous ne pensiez que j'exagčre et cependant je pleure ŕ - chaudes larmes en vous écrivant. - - [7] I have just received your letter of 24 November, and I - reply at once (as I have formed the habit of doing). I wrote - you lately that your letter made me cry, and I blamed my - illness for that weakness. I was wrong. For some time past all - your letters have had the same effect on me. I always was Leo - Cry-baby. Formerly I was ashamed of this weakness, but the - tears I shed when thinking of you, and of your love for us, - are so sweet that I let them flow without any false shame. - Your letter is too full of sadness not to produce the same - effect on me. It is you who have always given me counsel, and - though unfortunately I have not always followed it, I should - wish all my life to act only in accord with your advice. For - the moment, permit me to tell you the effect your letter has - had on me, and the thoughts that have come to me while reading - it. If I speak too freely, I know you will forgive it, on - account of the love I have for you. By saying that it is your - turn to leave us, to rejoin those who are no more and whom - you have loved so much, by saying that you ask God to set a - limit to your life which seems to you so insupportable and - isolated--pardon me, dear Aunt, but it seems to me that in so - saying you offend God and me and all of us who love you so - much. You ask God for death, that is to say, for the greatest - misfortune that can happen to me. (This is not a phrase, for - God is my witness that the two greatest misfortunes that could - come to me would be your death and that of Nicholas--the two - persons whom I love more than myself.) What would be left to - me if God granted your prayer? To please whom should I then - wish to become better, to have good qualities and a good - reputation in the world? When I make plans of happiness for - myself, the idea that you will share and enjoy my happiness is - always present. When I do anything good, I am satisfied with - myself because I know you will be satisfied with me. When I - act badly, what I most fear is to cause you grief. Your love - is everything to me, and you ask God to separate us! I cannot - tell you what I feel for you; words do not suffice to express - it. I fear lest you should think I exaggerate, and yet I shed - hot tears while writing to you. - -In the same letter he tells of one of those remarkable 'answers to -prayer,' instances of thought-transference, or (if the reader pleases) -simply coincidences, which have played so great a part in the history -of all religious bodies. - - [8]Aujourd'hui il m'est arrivé une de ces choses qui m'auraient - fait croire en Dieu, si je n'y croyais déjŕ fermement depuis - quelque temps. - - L'été ŕ Stáry Urt tous les officiers qui y étaient ne faisaient que - jouer et assez gros jeu. Comme en vivant au camp il est impossible - de ne pas se voir souvent, j'ai trčs souvent assisté au jeu et - malgré les instances qu'on me faisait j'ai tenu bon pendant un - mois; mais un beau jour en plaisantant, j'ai mis un petit enjeu, - j'ai perdu, j'ai recommencé, j'ai encore perdu, la chance en était - mauvaise, la passion du jeu s'est reveillée et en deux jours j'ai - perdu tout ce que j'avais d'argent et celui que Nicolas m'a donné - (ŕ peu prčs 250 r. argent) et par dessus cela encore 500 r. argent - pour lequel j'ai donné une lettre de change payable au mois de - Janvier 1852. - - Il faut vous dire que prčs du camp il y a un _Aoul_ qu'habitent - les Tchitchéniens. Un jeune garçon (Tchitchénien) Sado venait au - camp et jouait, mais comme il ne savait pas compter et inscrire - il y avait des chenapans qui le trichaient. Je n'ai jamais voulu - jouer pour cette raison contre Sado, et męme je lui ai dit qu'il - ne fallait pas qu'il jouât, parce qu'on le trompait et je me - suis proposé de jouer pour lui par procuration. Il m'a été trčs - reconnaissant pour ceci et m'a fait cadeau d'une bourse. Comme - c'est l'usage de cette nation de se faire des cadeaux mutuels, je - lui ai donné un misérable fusil que j'avais acheté pour 8 rb. Il - faut vous dire que pour devenir _Kounák_, ce qui veut dire ami, - il est d'usage de se faire des cadeaux, et puis de manger dans - la maison du _Kounák_. Aprčs cela, d'aprčs l'ancien usage de ces - peuples (qui n'existe presque plus que par tradition) on devient - ami ŕ la vie et ŕ la mort, c.ŕ d. que si je lui demande tout son - argent, ou sa femme, ou ses armes, ou tout ce qu'il a de plus - précieux, il doit me les donner, et moi aussi je ne dois rien lui - refuser. Sado m'a engagé de venir chez lui et d'ętre _Kounák_. - J'y suis allé. Aprčs m'avoir régalé ŕ leur maničre, il m'a proposé - de choisir dans sa maison tout ce que je voudrais--ses armes, son - cheval ... tout. J'ai voulu choisir ce qu'il y avait de moins cher - et j'ai pris une bride de cheval montée en argent, mais il m'a dit - que je l'offensais et m'a obligé de prendre une _sword_ qui vaut au - moins 100 r. arg. - - Son pčre est un homme assez riche, mais qui a son argent enterré et - ne donne pas le sou ŕ son fils. Le fils pour avoir de l'argent va - voler chez l'ennemi des chevaux, des vaches; quelquefois il expose - 20 fois sa vie pour voler une chose qui ne vaut pas 10 r., mais ce - n'est pas par cupidité qu'il le fait, mais par genre. Le plus grand - voleur est trčs estimé et on l'appelle '_Dzhigit_,' un _Brave_. - Tantôt Sado a 1000 r. arg., tantôt pas le sou. Aprčs une visite - chez lui, je lui ai fait cadeau de la montre d'argent de Nicolas - et nous sommes devenus les plus grands amis du monde. Plusieurs - fois il m'a prouvé son dévouement en s'exposant ŕ des dangers pour - moi, mais ceci pour lui n'est rien--c'est devenu une habitude et un - plaisir. - - Quand je suis parti de Stáry Urt et que Nicolas y est resté, Sado - venait chez lui tous les jours et disait qu'il ne savait que - devenir sans moi et qu'il s'ennuyait terriblement. Par une lettre - je faisais connaître ŕ Nicolas, que mon cheval étant malade, je - le priais de m'en trouver un ŕ Stáry Urt; Sado ayant appris cela - n'eut rien de plus pressé que de venir chez moi et de me donner son - cheval, malgré tout ce que j'ai pu faire pour refuser. - - Aprčs la bętise que j'ai fait de jouer ŕ Stáry Urt, je n'ai plus - repris les cartes en mains, et je faisais continuellement la morale - ŕ Sado qui a la passion du jeu et quoiqu'il ne connaisse pas le - jeu, a toujours un bonheur étonnant. Hier soir je me suis occupé ŕ - penser ŕ mes affaires pécuniaires, ŕ mes dettes; je pensais comment - je ferais pour les payer. Ayant longtemps pensé ŕ ces choses, j'ai - vu que si je ne dépense pas trop d'argent, toutes mes dettes ne - m'embarrasseront pas et pourront petit ŕ petit ętre payées dans - 2 ou 3 ans; mais les 500 rbs., que je devais payer ce mois, me - mettaient au désespoir. Il m'était impossible de les payer et pour - le moment ils m'embarrassaient beaucoup plus que ne l'avaient - fait autrefois les 4000 d'Ogaryéff. Cette bętise d'avoir fait les - dettes que j'avais en Russie et de venir en faire de nouvelles ici - me mettait au désespoir. Le soir en faisant ma pričre, j'ai prié - Dieu qu'il me tire de cette désagréable position et avec beaucoup - de ferveur. 'Mais comment est-ce que je puis me tirer de cette - affaire?' pensai-je en me couchant. 'Il ne peut rien arriver qui me - donne la possibilité d'acquitter cette dette.' Je me représentais - déjŕ tous les désagréments que j'avais ŕ essuyer ŕ cause de cela: - how when he presents the note for collection, the authorities will - demand an explanation as to why I did not pay, etc. 'Lord, help - me!' said I, and fell asleep. - - Le lendemain je reçois une lettre de Nicolas ŕ laquelle était - jointe la votre et plusieurs autres--il m'écrit: - - The other day Sádo came to see me. He has won your notes-of-hand - from Knorring, and has brought them to me. He was so pleased to - have won them, and asked me so often, 'What do you think? Will your - brother be glad that I have done this?' that I have grown very fond - of him. That man is really attached to you. - - N'est-ce pas étonnant que de voir ses voeux aussi exaucés le - lendemain męme? C. ŕ d., qu'il n'y a rien d'aussi étonnant que la - bonté divine pour un ętre qui la mérite si peu que moi. Et n'est-ce - pas que le trait de dévouement de Sado est admirable? Il sait que - j'ai un frčre Serge, qui aime les chevaux et comme je lui ai promis - de le prendre en Russie quand j'y irai, il m'a dit, que dűt-il lui - en coűter 100 fois la vie, il volera le meilleur cheval qu'il y ait - dans les montagnes, et qu'il le lui amčnera. - - Faites, je vous prie, acheter ŕ Toúla un _6-barrelled pistol_ et un - _musical-box_, si cela ne coűte pas trop cher. Ce sont des choses - qui lui feront beaucoup de plaisir. - - [8] To-day one of those things happened to me which would have - made me believe in God, if I had not for some time past firmly - believed in Him. - - In summer, at Stáry Urt, all the officers who were there did - nothing but play, and play rather high. As, living in camp, - one has to meet frequently, I was very often present at play, - but in spite of persuasions I kept steady for a month; but - one fine day for fun I put down a small stake. I lost, staked - again, and lost again. I was in bad luck; the passion for play - reawoke in me, and in two days I had lost all the money I had, - and what Nicholas gave me (about Rs. 250) and another Rs. 500 - besides, for which I gave a note-of-hand payable in January - 1852. - - I should tell you that near the camp there is an Aoul - [native village] inhabited by Circassians. A young fellow (a - Circassian) named Sádo used to come to the camp and play; but - as he could neither reckon nor write, there were scamps who - cheated him. For that reason I never wished to play against - Sádo, and I even told him that he ought not to play, because - he was being cheated; and I offered to play for him. He was - very grateful to me for this, and presented me with a purse; - and as it is the custom of that nation to exchange presents, I - gave him a wretched gun I had bought for Rs. 8. I should tell - you that to become a _Kounák_, that is to say, a _friend_, - it is customary to exchange presents, and afterwards to eat - in the house of one's _Kounák_. After that, according to the - ancient custom of these peoples (which hardly exists now - except as a tradition) you become friends for life and death: - that is to say, if I asked of him all his money, or his wife, - or his weapons, or all the most precious things he has, he - must give them to me, and I also must not refuse him anything. - Sádo made me promise to come to his house and become his - Kounák. I went. After having regaled me in their fashion, he - asked me to choose anything in his house that I liked: his - weapons, his horse--anything. I wished to choose what was of - least value, and took a horse's bridle with silver mountings; - but he said I was offending him, and obliged me to take a - sword worth at least Rs. 100. - - His father is a rather rich man, but keeps his money buried, - and does not give his son a cent. The son, to have money, goes - and steals horses and cows from the enemy. Sometimes he risks - his life 20 times to steal something not worth Rs. 10, but he - does it not from greed, but because it is 'the thing.' The - greatest robber is most esteemed, and is called _Dzhigit_, 'a - _Brave_.' Sometimes Sádo has Rs. 1000, sometimes not a cent. - After one visit to him, I gave him Nicholas's silver watch, - and we became the greatest friends in the world. He has proved - his devotion several times by exposing himself to danger for - my sake; but that is nothing to him--it has become a habit and - a pleasure. - - When I left Stáry Urt and Nicholas remained there, Sádo used - to go to him every day, saying that he did not know how to - get on without me, and that he felt terribly dull. I wrote to - Nicholas saying that as my horse was ill I begged him to find - me one at Stáry Urt. Sádo having learnt this, must needs come - to me and give me his horse, in spite of all I could do to - refuse it. - - After the folly I committed in playing at Stáry Urt, I did not - touch a card again, and I was always lecturing Sádo, who is - devoted to gambling and, though he does not know how to play, - always has astonishing luck. Yesterday evening I was engaged - in considering my money matters and my debts, and thinking - how I was to pay them. Having long thought of these things, - I saw that if I do not spend too much, all my debts will not - embarrass me, but can be paid off little by little in 2 or 3 - years; but the Rs. 500 that I had to pay this month, threw me - into despair. It was impossible for me to pay it, and at the - moment it embarrassed me much more than did previously the - 4000 of Ogaryóf. The stupidity, after having contracted those - debts in Russia, of coming here and adding fresh ones, made - me despair. In the evening while saying my prayers, I asked - God--and very fervently--to get me out of this disagreeable - scrape. 'But how can I get out of this scrape?' thought I, as - I lay down. 'Nothing can happen that will make it possible for - me to meet that debt.' I already pictured to myself all the - unpleasantnesses I should have to go through because of it. - (See English sentence in the French text, above.) - - Next day I received a letter from Nicholas enclosing yours - and several others. He wrote me: (See English sentence in the - French text, above). - - Is it not astonishing to see one's petitions granted like - this the very next day? That is to say, there is nothing - so wonderful as the divine goodness to one who merits it - so little as I. And is not the trait of Sádo's devotion - admirable? He knows I have a brother Sergius, who loves - horses, and as I have promised to take him to Russia when I - go, he tells me that, if it costs him his life 100 times over, - he will steal the best horse to be found in the mountains, and - will take it to him. - - Please, have a 6-barrelled pistol bought in Toúla and sent to - me, and also a musical-box, if that does not cost too much. - These are things which will give him much pleasure. - -In explanation of this letter one has to mention that Sádo was a -'peaceful' Circassian, that is, one friendly to Russia (though his -tribe in general were hostile), and further, that the passages printed -in English in the midst of the French text, are in the original written -in Russian. - -A few days later we find Tolstoy on his way back to Starogládovsk, -stopping (probably for post-horses) at the post-station Mozdók, and -again writing his aunt a long letter in which he says: - - [9]La religion et l'expérience que j'ai de la vie (quelque petite - qu'elle soit) m'ont appris que la vie est une épreuve. Dans moi - elle est plus qu'une épreuve, c'est encore l'expiation de mes - fautes. - - J'ai dans l'idée que l'idée si frivole que j'ai eu d'aller faire - un voyage au Caucase--est une idée qui m'a été inspirée d'en haut. - C'est la main de Dieu qui m'a guidé--je ne cesse de l'en remercier. - Je sens que je suis devenu meilleur ici (et ce n'est pas beaucoup - dire puisque j'ai été trčs mauvais) et je suis fermement persuadé - que tout ce qui peut m'arriver ici ne sera que pour mon bien, - puisque c'est Dieu lui-męme qui l'a voulu ainsi. Peut-ętre c'est - une idée bien hardie, néanmoins j'ai cette conviction. C'est pour - cela que je supporte les fatigues et les privations physiques dont - je parle (ce ne sont pas des privations physiques--il n'y en a pas - pour un garçon de 23 ans qui se porte bien) sans les ressentir, - męme avec une espčce de plaisir en pensant au bonheur qui m'attend. - - Voilŕ comment je le représente: - - Aprčs un nombre indéterminé d'années, ni jeune, ni vieux, je suis - ŕ Yásnaya; mes affaires sont en ordre, je n'ai pas d'inquiétudes, - ni de tracasseries. Vous habitez Yásnaya aussi. Vous avez un peu - vieillie, mais ętes encore fraîche et bien portante. Nous menons - la vie que nous avons menée,--je travaille le matin, mais nous - nous voyons presque toute la journée. Nous dînons. Le soir je fais - une lecture qui ne vous ennuie pas, puis nous causons--moi je vous - raconte ma vie au Caucase, vous me parlez de vos souvenirs--de mon - pčre, de ma mčre, vous me contez des '_terrible tales_' que jadis - nous écoutions les yeux effrayés et la bouche béante. Nous nous - rappelons les personnes qui nous ont été chčres et qui ne sont - plus; vous pleurerez, j'en ferai de męme, mais ces larmes seront - douces; nous causerons des frčres qui viendront nous voir de temps - en temps, de la chčre Marie qui passera aussi quelques mois de - l'année a Yásnaya qu'elle aime tant, avec tous ses enfants. Nous - n'aurons point de connaissances--personne ne viendra nous ennuyer - et faire des commérages. C'est un beau ręve, mais ce n'est pas - encore tout ce que je me permets de ręver.--Je suis marié--ma - femme est une personne douce, bonne, aimante; elle a pour vous - le męme amour que moi; nous avons des enfants qui vous appellent - grandmaman; vous habitez la grande maison en haut, la męme chambre - que jadis habitait grandmaman. Toute la maison est dans le męme - ordre qu'elle a été du temps de papa et nous recommençons la - męme vie, seulement en changéant de rôle; vous prenez le rôle de - grandmaman, mais vous ętes encore meilleure; moi le rôle de papa, - mais je désespčre de jamais le mériter; ma femme celui de maman, - les enfants le nôtre; Marie le rôle des deux tantes, leurs malheurs - exceptés.... Mais il manquera un personnage pour prendre le rôle - que vous avez joué dans notre famille; jamais il ne se trouvera une - âme aussi belle, aussi aimante que la vôtre. Vous n'avez pas de - successeur. Il y aura trois nouveaux personnages, qui paraîtront - de temps en temps sur la scčne--les frčres, surtout l'un qui - sera souvent avec nous: Nicolas--vieux garçon, chauve, retiré du - service, toujours aussi bon, aussi noble. - - I imagine how he will, as of old, tell the children fairy tales of - his own invention, and how they will kiss his greasy hands (but - which are worthy of it), how he will play with them, how my wife - will bustle about to get him his favourite dishes, how he and I - will recall our common memories of days long past, how you will sit - in your accustomed place and listen to us with pleasure; how, as of - yore, you will call us, old men, 'Lyóvotchka' and 'Nikólenka,' and - will scold me for eating with my fingers, and him for not having - clean hands. - - Si on me faisait empereur de Russie, si on me donnait le Pérou, - en un mot si une fée venait avec sa baguette me demander ce que - je désire--la main sur la conscience, je répondrais que je désire - seulement que ce ręve puisse devenir une réalité. - - [9] Religion and the experience I have of life (however small - it may be) have taught me that life is a trial. In my case it - is more than a trial, it is also an expiation of my faults. - - It seems to me that the frivolous idea I had of journeying to - the Caucasus was an idea with which I was inspired from above. - It is the hand of God that has guided me--I do not cease to - thank Him for it. I feel that I have become better here (and - that is not saying much, for I was very bad) and I am firmly - persuaded that all that can happen to me here can only be - for my good, since it is God himself who has so willed it. - Perhaps it is a very audacious notion; nevertheless it is my - conviction. That is why I bear the fatigues and the physical - privations I have mentioned (they are not physical privations: - there are none for a fellow of 23 who is in good health) - without resenting them, and even with a kind of pleasure in - thinking of the happiness that awaits me. - - This is how I picture it: - - After an indefinite number of years, neither young nor old, I - am at Yásnaya; my affairs are in order, I have no anxieties - or worries. You also live at Yásnaya. You have aged a little, - but you are still fresh and in good health. We lead the life - we used to lead. I work in the morning, but we see one another - almost all day. We have dinner. In the evening I read aloud - something which does not weary you, and then we talk. I tell - you of my life in the Caucasus, you tell me your recollections - of my father and my mother; and you tell me the 'terrible - tales' we used to listen to with frightened eyes and open - mouths. We remind each other of those who were dear to us and - who are now no more; you will weep, I shall do the same, but - those tears will be sweet; we shall talk about my brothers, - who will come to see us from time to time; of dear Marie, - who with all her children will also spend some months of the - year at Yásnaya, which she loves so much. We shall have no - acquaintances--no one will come to weary us and carry tales. - It is a beautiful dream, but it is not all that I let myself - dream.--I am married. My wife is a gentle creature, kind and - affectionate; she has the same love for you as I have. We have - children who call you Grandmamma; you live upstairs in the big - house, in what used to be Grandmamma's room. The whole house - is as it was in Papa's time, and we recommence the same life, - only changing our rôles. You take the rôle of Grandmamma, but - you are still better; I take Papa's place, though I despair - of ever deserving it; my wife, that of Mamma; the children - take ours; Marie, that of the two aunts (excepting their - misfortunes) ... but some one will be lacking to take the part - you played in our family--never will any one be found with a - soul so beautiful, so loving, as yours. You have no successor. - There will be three new characters who will appear from - time to time on the scene--the brothers, especially the one - who will often be with us, Nicholas: an old bachelor, bald, - retired from service, as good and noble as ever. - - I imagine how he will, as of old, tell the children fairy - tales of his own invention, and how they will kiss his greasy - hands (but which are worthy of it), how he will play with - them, how my wife will bustle about to get him his favourite - dishes, how he and I will recall our common memories of days - long past, how you will sit in your accustomed place and - listen to us with pleasure; how, as of yore, you will call us, - old men, 'Lyóvotchka' and 'Nikólenka,' and will scold me for - eating with my fingers, and him for not having clean hands. - - If they made me Emperor of Russia, or gave me Peru: in a word, - if a fairy came with her wand asking me what I wished for--my - hand on my conscience, I should reply that I only wish that - this dream may become a reality. - -He returned to Starogládovsk a Junker, and in February took part in an -expedition as a non-commissioned artillery officer, and nearly received -a St. George's Cross for bravery, but lost it because, once again, he -had not his documents in order. - -Writing to his Aunt Tatiána some months later (June 1852), he says: - - [10]Pendant cette expédition, j'ai eu l'occasion d'ętre deux fois - présenté ŕ la croix de St. Georges et je n'ai pas pu la recevoir - ŕ cause du retard de quelques jours de ce maudit papier. J'ai été - présenté pour la journée du 18 Février (ma fęte), mais on a été - obligé de refuser ŕ cause du manque de ce papier. La liste des - présentations partit le 19, le 20 le papier était arrivé. Je vous - avoue franchement que de tous les honneurs militaires c'est cette - seule petite croix que j'ai eu la vanité d'ambitionner. - - [10] During this expedition, I twice had the chance of being - presented to receive a St. George's Cross, and I was prevented - from receiving it by that confounded paper being a few days - late. I was nominated to receive it on 18 February (my name's - day), but it had to be refused me for want of that paper. The - list of nominations was sent off on the 19th, the paper came - on the 20th. I frankly confess that of all military honours, - that little cross is the only one which I have had the vanity - to desire. - -On a second occasion he had the refusal of the coveted cross, but -his Colonel pointed out to him that besides being sometimes given to -Junkers favoured by their officers, these crosses were also, and more -usually, granted to old and deserving privates, whom they entitled to -a life pension; and that if Tolstoy would forego the one intended for -him, it would be given to a veteran who deserved it, and to whom it -would secure a subsistence for his old age. Tolstoy, to his honour be -it said, renounced the coveted decoration. He had a third chance of -securing it later on, but this time, absorbed in playing chess till -late at night, he omitted to go on duty, and the Commander of the -Division noticing his absence, placed him under arrest and cancelled -the award which had been already made in his favour. Chess, I may here -mention, has always been a favourite game of Tolstoy's. He has never -studied the game from books, but has played much and plays ingeniously -and well. - -The kind of warfare in which he was now engaged, is well described in -_The Raid_ and _The Wood-Felling_. A detachment would set out to seize -a Tartar village, make a clearing in a forest, or capture cattle. -It would exchange cannon- and rifle-shots with Tartar skirmishers, -and would lose perhaps half a dozen men killed or wounded before -accomplishing its object; but the more serious part of the work came -when the expedition returned to the fortified camp from which it had -started. As soon as the retreat commenced, Tartar sharpshooters would -swarm out, trying to cut off stragglers and inflicting as much damage -as possible. Even after the Russians were beyond rifle-shot, a chance -ball from a Tartar cannon might reach them within sight of their own -quarters. - -To see a single man one has known well, struck down by a deadly bullet, -may impress an observer as vividly as the myriad corpses of a great -battlefield; and in Tolstoy's earliest war-sketches one feels the note -of horror at war quite as strongly as when, later on, he described far -bloodier struggles at Sevastopol. - -When not on campaign, Tolstoy was generally stationed at the Cossack -village of Starogládovsk, where he lived more or less the life vividly -described in _The Cossacks_. The Grebénsky Cossacks located there were -descended from Russian Dissenters (Old-Believers) who had fled from -the persecution of former Tsars and had settled among the Mohammedan -Circassians near the river Térek. They had retained the purity of their -Russian speech, and remained nominally Christians, but had intermarried -with the natives and adopted many of their manners and customs. Love of -freedom, idleness, robbery, hunting, and war were their most prominent -characteristics. They considered themselves altogether superior both -to the semi-savage Mohammedan natives and to the tame, disciplined -Russians. Drunkenness was not so much a weakness of these men as 'a -tribal rite, to abandon which would have been considered as an act of -apostasy.' The work was done by the women, or by hired Nogai-Tartar -labourers. The women were physically better developed than the men, -and were celebrated for their beauty, combining the purest type of -Circassian features with the powerful build of Northern women. In their -relations with men, especially before marriage, they enjoyed absolute -freedom. - -There was much that attracted Tolstoy in the simple life of these -people: their frankness, their skill in hunting, their contempt for all -that is artificial or weak, and their freedom from the moral struggles -that tormented him. With one beautiful girl--Mariána--he fell deeply -in love, but she remained indifferent to the attentions of a man who -was inferior in the arts of war and hunting to some of the young men -of her own tribe. His courtship failed (as he says of his hero in _The -Cossacks_) because he could not, like a dashing young Cossack, 'steal -herds, get drunk on Tchikir wine, troll songs, kill people, and when -tipsy climb in at her window for a night, without thinking who he was -or why he existed.' - -Though one has always to be carefully on one's guard against taking -Tolstoy's stories as though they were autobiographical, there are -passages in _The Cossacks_ which certainly apply to himself, and give a -vivid idea of some of his moods at this time, as well as of his way of -life while living as a Junker at Starogládovsk. - -On one occasion the hero is out hunting in the woods and asks himself: - - 'How must I live so as to be happy, and why was I formerly not - happy?' And he remembered his previous life, and felt disgusted - with himself.... And suddenly a new light seemed revealed to - him. 'Happiness,' said he to himself, 'consists in living for - others. That is clear. The demand for happiness is innate in man; - therefore it is legitimate. If we seek to satisfy it selfishly: - by seeking wealth, fame, comforts, or love, circumstances may - render the satisfaction of these desires impossible. It follows - that they are illegitimate, but not that the demand for happiness - itself is illegitimate. But what desire is there that can always - be satisfied in spite of external conditions? What desire? Love, - self-sacrifice!' He was so glad and excited at discovering this, - as it seemed to him, new truth, that he jumped up and began - impatiently seeking for some one for whom he might quickly - sacrifice himself: to whom he might do good, and whom he could - love. 'Yes; I need nothing for myself!' he kept mentally repeating: - 'Then why not live for others?' - -In the same story Tolstoy tells us that his hero lived monotonously and -regularly. - - He had little to do with his Commander or fellow-officers. In the - Caucasus the position of a Junker with means of his own was in this - respect particularly favourable. He was not sent to drill nor kept - at work. As a reward for going on an expedition he was recommended - for a commission, and meanwhile he was left alone. The officers - considered him an aristocrat, and therefore in their intercourse - with him bore themselves with dignity. Card-playing and the - officers' carousals with singers, of which he had had experience - when on service with the detachment, seemed to him unattractive, - and he avoided the officers' society. - -Again he tells us that his hero - - often thought seriously of abandoning all else, enrolling himself - as a Cossack, buying a cottage, and marrying a Cossack girl ... - and living with Uncle Eróshka, going with him to hunt and to fish, - and with the Cossacks on expeditions. 'Why don't I do this? What - am I waiting for?' he asked himself.... But a voice told him to - wait, and not to decide. He was restrained by a dim consciousness - that he could not fully live the life of Eróshka and Loukáshka, - because he had another happiness,--he was restrained by the thought - that happiness lies in self-sacrifice.... He continually sought an - opportunity to sacrifice himself for others, but it did not present - itself. - -In the same story the Cossack Loukáshka kills a Tartar 'brave' at -night, and rises greatly in the popular esteem and in his own; and the -hero thinks to himself: - - 'What nonsense and confusion! A man kills another and is as happy - and satisfied as though he had done an excellent deed. Does nothing - tell him there is here no cause for great rejoicing? That happiness - consists not in killing others, but in sacrificing oneself?' - -We have a yet safer record of Tolstoy's feelings in his Diary, -in which about this time he noted down the following reflections -concerning the chief faults he was conscious of in himself: - - 1. The passion of gaming is a covetous passion, gradually - developing into a craving for strong excitement. Against this - passion one can struggle. - - 2. Sensuality is a physical need, a demand of the body, excited - by imagination. It increases with abstinence, and therefore the - struggle against it is very difficult. The best way is by labour - and occupation. - - 3. Vanity is the passion least harmful to others and most harmful - to oneself. - -In another passage, indicating quite a different phase of -consciousness, he writes: - - For some time past repentance for the loss of the best years of - life has begun to torment me, and this since I commenced to feel - that I could do something good.... There is something in me which - compels me to believe that I was not born to be like everybody else. - -In May we find him going on furlough to Pyatigórsk to drink the mineral -water and to be treated for rheumatism. This is his description of -Pyatigórsk, written nearly twenty years later in his Reading Book for -Children: - - Pyatigórsk (Five Hills) is so called because it stands on Mount - Besh-tau. _Besh_ means in Tartar 'five,' _Tau_ means 'hill.' From - this mountain flows a hot sulphur stream. The water is boiling, and - over the places where it springs from the mountain there is always - steam, as from a samovár. - - The whole place where the town stands is very gay. From the - mountain flow hot springs, and at the foot of the mountain flows - the river Podkoúmok. The mountain slopes are wooded, all around are - fields, and afar off one sees the great Caucasian mountains. On - these the snow never melts, and they are always as white as sugar. - When the weather is clear, wherever one goes one sees the great - mountain, Elbrus, like a sugar cone. People come to the hot springs - for their health; and over the springs, arbours and awnings have - been erected, and gardens and paths have been laid out all around. - In the morning a band plays, and people drink the waters, or bathe, - or stroll about. - -Here he was joined by his sister Mary and her husband. She also came to -Pyatigórsk to be cured of rheumatism. She tells how her brother Leo was -at this time attracted by Spiritualism, and would sometimes even borrow -a table from a _café_ and have a _séance_ on the boulevard. He remained -in Pyatigórsk till 5th August, and then returned to Starogládovsk. From -thence he wrote to his aunt, repeating what he had said before of the -officers with whom he had to associate. - - [11]Il y a une trop grande différence dans l'éducation, les - sentiments et la maničre de voir de ceux que je rencontre ici pour - que je trouve quelque plaisir avec eux. Il n'y a que Nicolas qui a - le talent, malgré l'énorme différence qu'il y a entre lui et tous - ces messieurs, ŕ s'amuser avec eux et ŕ ętre aimé de tous. Je lui - envie ce talent, mais je sens que je ne puis en faire autant. - - [11] There is too great a difference in the education, the - sentiments, and the point of view of those I meet here, for - me to find any pleasure in their company. Only Nicholas, in - spite of the enormous difference between him and all these - gentlemen, has the talent to amuse himself with them, and - to be loved by all. I envy him this talent, but feel that I - cannot do the same. - -He mentions that for some time past he has acquired a taste for reading -history, and says that he perseveres in his literary occupations. He -had already three times rewritten a work he had in hand, and intended -to rewrite it again. He felt much more content with himself at this -time, and adds: - - [12]Il y a eu un temps oů j'étais vain de mon esprit et de ma - position dans le monde, de mon nom; mais ŕ présent je sais et je - sens que s'il y a en moi quelque chose de bon et que si j'ai ŕ en - rendre grâce ŕ la Providence, c'est pour un coeur bon, sensible et - capable d'amour, qu'il lui a plu de me donner et de me conserver. - - [12] There was a time when I was vain of my intelligence, - of my position in the world, and of my name; but now I know - and feel that if there is anything good in me, and if I have - anything to thank Providence for, it is for a good heart, - sensitive and capable of love, which it has pleased it to give - me and to preserve in me. - -On 29th June he again notes in his Diary: - - He whose aim is his own happiness, is bad; he whose aim is the - good opinion of others, is weak; he whose aim is the happiness of - others, is virtuous; he whose aim is God, is great. - - -1852 - -On 2nd July he completed _Childhood_, and a few days later despatched -the manuscript, signed only with the initials L. N. T., to the best -Petersburg monthly, _The Contemporary_. On 28th August he received -a reply from the editor, the poet Nekrásof, saying he would publish -the story and that he thought its author had talent. Another letter -followed, dated 5th September 1852, in which Nekrásof said that having -re-read the story in proof, he found it 'much better than I had -realised at first. I can say definitely that its author has talent.' He -added that it would appear in the next number of his magazine. - -Tolstoy notes in his Diary: 'Received letter from Nekrásof; praises, -but no money.' - -Nekrásof's next letter is dated 30th October, and explains that it is -not customary to pay authors for their first work, but that he hopes -Tolstoy will send him more stories, and that in future he will pay -him as much as to the very best known writers, namely Rs. 50 (nearly -Ł7 at that time) per sheet of sixteen pages. He mentioned also that -_Childhood_ had been very well received by the public. - -Tolstoy kept his authorship a secret, revealing it to no one except -Nicholas and Aunt Tatiána. His sister Mary was by this time back at her -husband's estate, situated near Tourgénef's village of Spássky. There -Tourgénef came one day to visit her, bringing with him the last number -of the _Contemporary_. Full of praise of a new story by an unknown -author, he began reading it aloud, and to her great astonishment -Mary recognised, one after another, various incidents from her own -childhood. Her first guess was that Nicholas must have written it. - -Among the writers who at once acclaimed Tolstoy's genius was Panáef, -co-editor of the _Contemporary_, who, Tourgénef pretended, had to be -carefully shunned by his friends on the Névsky (the chief street in -Petersburg) lest he should insist on reading them extracts from the new -story. Before long the work reached Dostoyévsky in Siberia, and he was -so struck by it that he wrote to a friend asking him to find out who -the talented L. N. T. was. - -Meanwhile Tolstoy continued his military career in the Caucasus. On -his return to Starogládovsk in August, he had noted in his Diary: -'Simplicity--that is the quality which above all others I desire to -attain.' - -He had to pass an unpleasant month in consequence of the autumn -manoeuvres, about which he wrote: 'It was not very pleasant to have -to march about and fire off cannons; especially as it disturbed the -regularity of my life'; and he rejoiced when it was over and he was -again able to devote himself to 'hunting, writing, reading, and -conversation with Nicholas.' He had become fond of shooting game, at -which--as at all physical exercises--he was expert; and he spent two or -three hours a day at it. He writes to his Aunt Tatiána: - - At 100 paces from my lodging I find wild fowl, and in half an hour - I kill 2, 3, or 4. Besides the pleasure, the exercise is excellent - for my health, which in spite of the waters is not very good. I am - not ill, but I often catch cold and suffer from sore throat or from - toothache or from rheumatism, so that I have to keep to my room at - least two days in the week. - -One of the forms of sport he enjoyed during his stay in the Caucasus -was strepet shooting: the strepet being a steppe grouse. Before they -migrate in mid-August, these birds assemble in enormous flocks, and -are extremely wild and difficult of approach. It is hardly possible to -get within two hundred or two hundred and fifty yards of such a flock. -Tolstoy had a horse that was specially trained for this particular -sport. On it he used to ride at a foot-pace two or three times round a -flock, carefully narrowing the circle till he got as near as possible -without alarming the birds. Then he would dash forward at full gallop -with his gun ready. The moment the birds rose he dropped his reins on -the horse's neck, and the well-trained animal would instantly stop, -allowing its master to take aim. - -Tolstoy's military career was not giving him satisfaction. Having -left home without any definite plans, he had neglected to bring any -documents with him, and the result of this was that instead of becoming -an officer within eighteen months, as he expected to do when he entered -the army, he now, after serving for ten months, received notice that -he would have to serve another three years before he could obtain his -commission. - -In this difficulty he applied to his aunt P. I. Úshkof, who by -application to an influential friend eventually succeeded in hastening -his promotion. Meanwhile however Tolstoy--who had made up his mind to -retire from the army as soon as he received his commission--almost lost -patience. - -On 24th December he completed the sketch entitled _The Raid: A -Volunteer's Story_, and two days later posted it to the _Contemporary_, -in which magazine it appeared in March 1853. The following passage -occurs in this his first story of war, and foreshadows the attitude he -ultimately made definitely his own. He is describing a march through -Caucasian scenery to a night attack on a Tartar _Aoul_, and he says: - - Nature, beautiful and strong, breathed conciliation. - - Can it be that people have not room to live in this beautiful - world, under this measureless, starry heaven? Can feelings of - enmity, vengeance, or lust to destroy one's fellow beings, retain - their hold on man's soul amid this enchanting Nature? All that is - evil in man's heart should, one would think, vanish in contact with - Nature--this immediate expression of beauty and goodness. - -From the very start we find Tolstoy hampered in his work by that -incubus of all Russian writers, the Censor. In a letter to his brother -Sergius in May he writes: '_Childhood_ was spoilt, and _The Raid_ -simply ruined by the Censor. All that was good in it has been struck -out or mutilated.' In comparing Tolstoy's literary achievement with -that of Western writers, one should make a large allowance for the -continual annoyance, delay, mutilation, and suppression inflicted on -him by that terrible satellite of despotism. - - -1853 - -In January, the battery in which Leo Tolstoy served went on active -service against Shámyl. The expedition assembled at Fort Grózny, where -scenes of debauchery occurred. - -On 18th February Tolstoy's life was in great danger. A shell fired by -the enemy smashed the carriage of a cannon he was pointing. Strange -to say he was not even wounded. On 1st April he returned with his -detachment to Starogládovsk; and in May we find him writing to his -brother Sergius that he had applied for his discharge, and hoped in six -weeks' time to return home a free man. Difficult as his admission to -the army had been, he found, however, that to retire was a yet harder -matter, destined to take not weeks but years. - -On 13th June his life was again in danger owing to an adventure which -supplied him with the subject he utilised later on in _A Prisoner in -the Caucasus_. - -It being dangerous to travel between the Russian forts without -an escort, non-combatants, as well as stores and baggage, were -periodically convoyed from one post to another. On these expeditions -it was forbidden for any one to detach himself from the main body; but -the intolerable slowness of the infantry march on a hot day, frequently -tempted those who were mounted, to ride on, and to run the risk of -being attacked by the 'Tartars' (who were generally Circassians). On -one such occasion five horsemen, including Tolstoy and his friend Sádo, -disobeyed the regulations and rode ahead. The two friends ascended -the hillside to see whether any foes were visible, while their three -companions proceeded along the valley below. Hardly had the two reached -the crest of the ridge when they saw thirty mounted Tartars galloping -towards them. Calculating that there was not time to rejoin their -companions in the valley, Tolstoy shouted them a warning, and raced off -along the ridge towards Fort Grózny, which was their destination. The -three did not, at first, take his warning seriously, but wasting some -precious moments before turning to rejoin the column, were overtaken -by the Tartars, and two of them were very severely wounded before a -rescue party from the convoy put the enemy to flight. Meanwhile Tolstoy -and Sádo, pursued by seven horsemen along the hill ridge, had to ride -nearly three miles to reach the fort. It so happened that Tolstoy was -trying a young horse of Sádo's, while Sádo was riding Tolstoy's ambler, -which could not gallop. Though Tolstoy could easily have escaped on -Sádo's fiery horse, he would not desert his comrade. Sádo had a gun, -unluckily not loaded, and so he could only make a pretence with it of -aiming at his pursuers. It seemed almost certain that both fugitives -would be killed; but apparently the Tartars decided to capture them -alive, perhaps wishing to revenge themselves on Sádo for being a -pro-Russian, and therefore they did not shoot them down. At last a -sentinel at Grózny having espied their plight, gave the alarm and some -Cossacks galloped to their rescue. At sight of these, the Tartars made -off and the fugitives escaped uninjured. - -Tolstoy continued his habit of forming resolutions; and about this -time he wrote: 'Be straightforward, not rough, but frank with all -men; yet not childishly frank without any need.... Refrain from -wine and women ... the pleasure is so small and uncertain, and the -remorse so great.... Devote yourself completely to whatever you do. On -experiencing any strong sensation, wait; but having once considered the -matter, though wrongly, act decisively.' - -From the middle of July to October, Tolstoy again stayed at Pyatigórsk. - -A companion he had brought with him to the Caucasus was his black -bulldog, Boúlka. He intended to leave it at home, but after he had -started, the dog had broken a pane of glass and escaped from the room -in which it was confined, and when Tolstoy, after stopping at the first -post-station, was just resuming his journey, he saw something black -racing along the road after him. It was Boúlka, who rushed to his -master, licked his hand, and lay down panting in the shade of a cart. -The dog had galloped nearly fourteen miles in the heat of the day, and -was rewarded by being taken to the Caucasus, where it was destined to -meet with many adventures. - -On one occasion this dog boldly attacked a wild boar, and had its -stomach ripped open by the latter's tusk. While its wound was being -sewn up, the dog licked its master's hand. - -On another occasion, when Tolstoy was sitting at night with a friend -in the village street, intending to start for Pyatigórsk at daybreak, -they suddenly heard a sucking-pig squeal, and guessed that a wolf -was killing it. Tolstoy ran into the house, seized a loaded gun, and -returned in time to see a wolf running straight towards him from the -other side of a wattle-fence. The wolf jumped on to the top of the -fence and descended close to Tolstoy who, almost touching him with the -muzzle of his gun, drew the trigger. The gun missed fire, and the wolf -raced off, chased by Boúlka and by Tolstoy's setter, Milton. The wolf -escaped, but not till it had snapped at Boúlka and inflicted a slight -wound on his head. Strange to say, the wolf ventured to return a little -later into the middle of the street, and again escaped unhurt. - -Not long after, in Pyatigórsk, shortly before Tolstoy left the -Caucasus, while drinking coffee in the garden of his lodging, he heard -a tremendous noise of men and dogs, and, on inquiry, learnt that -convicts had been let out of gaol to kill the dogs, of whom there -were too many in the town, but that orders had been given to spare -dogs wearing collars. As ill-luck would have it, Tolstoy had removed -Boúlka's collar; and Boúlka, apparently recognising the convicts as his -natural enemies, rushed out into the street and flew at one of them. A -man had just freed the long hook he carried, from the corpse of a dog -he had caught and held down while his companions beat it to death with -bludgeons. He now adroitly hooked Boúlka and drew the unfortunate dog -towards him, calling to his mate to kill it, which the latter prepared -to do. Boúlka however bounded aside with such force that the skin of -his thigh burst where the hook held it, and with tail between his legs -and a red wound on his thigh, he flew back into the house and hid -under Tolstoy's bed. His escape was not of much use. The wolf that had -snapped at him six weeks before must have been mad, for Boúlka after -showing premonitory symptoms of rabies, disappeared, and was never -heard of more. - -Tolstoy's state of mind during the latter part of this year is -indicated by his letters. To his brother Sergius he wrote on 20th July: - - I think I already wrote you that I have sent in my resignation. - God knows, however, on account of the war with Turkey, whether it - will be accepted, or when. This disturbs me very much, for I have - now grown so accustomed to happy thoughts of soon settling down - in the country, that to return to Starogládovsk and again wait - unendingly--as I have to wait for everything connected with my - service--will be very unpleasant. - -Again, in December, he writes from Starogládovsk: - - Please write about my papers quickly. This is necessary. '_When - shall I come home?_' God only knows. For nearly a year I have been - thinking only of how to sheath my sword, but still cannot manage - it. And as I must fight somewhere, I think it will be pleasanter to - do so in Turkey than here, and I have therefore applied to Prince - Serge Dmítrievitch [Gortchakóf] about it, and he writes me that he - has written to his brother, but what the result will be, I do not - know. - -It will be remembered that Tolstoy's paternal grandmother was a -Gortchakóf. Through her he was nearly related to Prince S. D. -Gortchakóf and to his brother, Prince Michael Dmítrievitch Gortchakóf, -who had been a friend of his father's in the war of 1812, and was now -in command of the Russian army on the Danube. - -The letter continues: - - At any rate by New Year I expect to change my way of life, - which I confess wearies me intolerably. Stupid officers, stupid - conversations, and nothing else. If there were but a single man to - whom one could open one's soul! Tourgénef is right: 'What irony - there is in solitude,'--one becomes palpably stupid oneself. - Although Nikólenka has gone off with the hounds--Heaven knows why - (Epíshka[13] and I often call him 'a pig' for so doing)--I go out - hunting alone for whole days at a time from morning to evening, - with a setter. That is my only pleasure--and not a pleasure but a - narcotic. One tires oneself out, gets famished, sleeps like the - dead, and a day has passed. When you have an opportunity, or are - yourself in Moscow, buy me Dickens' _David Copperfield_ in English, - and send me _Sadler's English Dictionary_ which is among my books. - - [13] The Cossack hunter Epíshka, the original of Eróshka, who - figures so prominently in _The Cossacks_. - -Of the entries in his Diary at this time, we may note the following: - - All the prayers I have invented I replace by the one prayer, 'Our - Father.' All the requests I can make to God are far more loftily - expressed and more worthily of Him, in the words 'Thy Kingdom come, - as in heaven so on earth.' - -About this time he completed his _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_, -and sent it to the _Contemporary_ with a letter expressing his own -dissatisfaction with the hasty workmanship of the story; it did -not appear till more than a year later. He was also now at work on -_Boyhood_. - -Seventeen years after Tolstoy had left the Caucasus, an officer -stationed at Starogládovsk found his memory still fresh among the -Cossacks, and saw Mariána (comparatively aged by that time), as well -as several elderly Cossack hunters who had shot wild fowl and wild -boars with Tolstoy. In his regiment he left the reputation of being an -excellent narrator, who enthralled every one by his conversation. - - -1854 - -Not till January 1854 did the long-expected order arrive allowing him -to pass the examination (a pure formality at that time) entitling him -to become an officer. On the 19th he left for home, and on 2nd February -reached Yásnaya, where he enjoyed a three weeks' stay with his Aunt -Tatiána, his brother, and a friend. On this journey he encountered a -severe storm, to which we owe _The Snow Storm_, published a couple of -years later, and probably also much of the storm description in _Master -and Man_, written in later life. - -The Russo-Turkish war had now begun in earnest, and, as a result of his -application, he received orders to join the army of the Danube, which -he set out accordingly to do. - -Of the Caucasian period of his life, as of his University days, -Tolstoy has at different times expressed himself differently. To -Birukóf, in 1905, he spoke of it as one of the best times of his life, -notwithstanding all his deflections from his dimly recognised ideals. -Yet two years earlier, writing of the four periods of his life, he had -spoken of 'the terrible twenty years of coarse dissipation, the service -of ambition, vanity, and above all, of lust,' which followed after the -age of fourteen. - -But what it comes to is, that Tolstoy is a man of moods, and -judges himself and others, sometimes by ordinary and sometimes by -extraordinary standards. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER III - -Birukof. - -Behrs. - -U. Bitovt, _Graf L. Tolstoy v literatoure i iskousstve_: Petersburg, -1903. (Hereafter called 'Bitovt.') Though ill-arranged, this book -is valuable to any one engaged on the difficult task of compiling a -Bibliography of Tolstoy's works. - -Nekrasof's letters to Tolstoy published in the Literary Supplement to -the _Niva_, February 1898. - -Much light is also thrown on this period of Tolstoy's life by the -following works, which must not be considered autobiographical: - - _The Raid._ - _The Wood-Felling._ - _Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance._ - _The Cossacks_, and - _The Snow Storm_, - -as well as by stories included in Tolstoy's _Readers_: - - _Boulka._ - _Boulka and the Wild Boar._ - _Milton and Boulka._ - _Boulka and the Wolf._ - _What Happened to Boulka in Pyatigorsk._ - _Boulka's and Milton's End._ - _A Prisoner in the Caucasus._ - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - THE CRIMEAN WAR - -Joins army of the Danube. Siege of Silistria. Sevastopol. Projected -Newspaper. _Sevastopol in December._ Battle of the Tchérnaya. Capture -of the Maláhof. Courier to Petersburg. Song. Relations with superiors -and fellow-officers. Self-depreciation. _The Wood-Felling._ _Sevastopol -in May._ The Censor. On War. - - -AT twenty-five years of age it fell to Tolstoy's lot to take part in a -great European war and thereby to extend the range of his experience in -a way that considerably affected his subsequent life and writings. - -Tolstoy tells us that he got his first understanding of war from -Stendhal, the author of _Le Rouge et le Noir_ and _La Chartreuse de -Parme_. In conversation with Paul Boyer, Tolstoy once spoke of those -novels as inimitable works of art, adding, 'I am greatly indebted to -Stendhal. He taught me to understand war. Re-read the description of -the battle of Waterloo in _La Chartreuse de Parme_. Who ever before -so described war? Described it, that is, as it is in reality? Do you -remember Fabrice riding over the field of battle and understanding -"nothing"?' - -Tolstoy's brother Nicholas, though fond of war, also disbelieved in -the popular romantic view of it, and used to say: 'All _that_ is -embellishment, and in real war there is no embellishment.'--'A little -later, in the Crimea,' added Tolstoy in his talk with Boyer, 'I had a -grand chance to see with my own eyes that this is so.' - -Of the causes that led to the war it need only be said that the rule -of the Turks over Christian populations had long kept a dangerous -sore open in Europe, and the consequent diplomatic difficulties were -complicated by the indefiniteness of two lines in the Treaty of -Kainardji, which Catherine the Great had imposed upon Turkey in 1774. -There was also friction between the Eastern and Western Churches, with -reference to the custody of the Places in Palestine rendered holy by -their traditional connection with the Prince of Peace. Nicholas I, who -had wellnigh drilled all intelligence out of those near him in his -Government and in his army, was not accustomed to be thwarted. Dimly -conscious of the first faint symptoms of that growth of Liberalism -which a few years later, in the early 'sixties, led to sweeping reforms -in Russia, he felt inclined to demonstrate the beneficence of his -rule not by allowing changes to be made at home, but by arbitrarily -inflicting reforms on Turkey. Failing to get his way by diplomatic -pressure, he rashly proceeded to occupy the Danubian Principalities as -a 'material guarantee' of Turkey's compliance with his demands. - -He was opposed by Austria and Prussia as strongly as by England and -France, and the pressure exerted by the four powers sufficed to compel -him to withdraw his army from Turkish soil. Thereupon the war, which -had as yet been waged only between Russia and Turkey, might well have -ended, had not England and France undertaken a quite needless invasion -of the Crimea: an enterprise in which Austria and Prussia refused to -join. The end did not justify the proceedings, for in spite of success -in this war, Napoleon the Third's dynasty crumbled to dust within -twenty years, while within a like period after Palmerston's death -Lord Salisbury frankly admitted that we had 'put our money on the -wrong horse.' As to Nicholas I, his pride was destined to be bitterly -mortified by the results of an enterprise which not only failed of its -immediate object, but by its failure actually hastened the coming of -those reforms in Russia against which he had set his face. Even Turkey -did not really benefit by being allowed to oppress her subject races -for a couple of generations longer. - -It was the influence of Napoleon III, as Kinglake has pointed out, -that led England to take part in the war. Having by treachery and -murder made himself Emperor of the French, that monarch found himself -for a time dangerously isolated from the support of people of good -repute. In consultation with Palmerston, he decided to subordinate the -traditional Eastern policy of his country to that of England if thereby -he could succeed in being publicly paraded as the friend and ally of -Queen Victoria. As soon as he had secured an alliance with England, -with Palmerston's aid, and helped by the extraordinary war fever which -seized the English nation, he quickly forced the peacefully disposed -Lord Aberdeen along an inclined plane which ultimately plunged both -nations into a war for which no sufficient motive justification or -excuse existed. - - -1854 - -Hostilities between Russia and Turkey had begun in October 1853, but -France and England did not break off negotiations with the former power -till the end of March 1854, the very month in which Tolstoy reached -Bucharest on his way through Wallachia to join the army. - -From there he wrote to his aunt, telling of his journey. The roads -after he had passed Khersón, and especially after he had crossed -the frontier, were abominable; his journey lasted nine days; and he -'arrived almost ill with fatigue.' - -A few days later, on 17th March, he wrote of his first interview with -Gortchakóf: - - [14]Le prince Gortchakóf n'était pas ici. Hier il vient d'arriver - et je viens de chez lui. Il m'a reçu mieux que je ne croyais--en - vrai parent. Il m'a embrassé, il m'a engagé de venir dîner tous les - jours chez lui et il veut me garder auprčs de lui, mais ce n'est - pas encore décidé. - - Pardon, chčre tante, que je vous écris peu--je n'ai pas encore la - tęte ŕ moi,--cette grande et belle ville, toutes ces présentations, - l'opéra italien, le théâtre français, les deux jeunes Gortchakóf - qui sont de trčs braves garçons ... de sorte que je ne suis pas - resté deux heures chez moi, et je n'ai pas pensé ŕ mes occupations. - - [14] Prince Gortchakóf was not here. He arrived yesterday, and - I have just come from his lodgings. He received me better than - I expected--quite as a relation. He embraced me, and made me - promise to dine at his house every day. He wants to keep me - near him, but this is not yet decided. - - Forgive me, dear Aunt, for writing but little to you--I have - not yet collected my wits; this large and fine town, all these - presentations, the Italian opera, the French theatre, the two - young Gortchakófs, who are very fine lads ... so that I have - not remained two hours at home, and have not thought of my - duties. - -On 22nd March he adds: 'I learnt yesterday that I am not to remain with -the Prince, but am to go to Oltenitza to join my battery.' - -In May he wrote: - - [15]Tandis que vous me croyez exposé ŕ tous les dangers de la - guerre je n'ai pas encore senti la poudre turque, et je suis trčs - tranquillement ŕ Boukarest ŕ me promener, ŕ faire de la musique et - ŕ manger des glaces. En effet tout ce temps, excepté deux semaines - que j'ai passées ŕ Oltenitza oů j'ai été attaché ŕ une batterie, et - une semaine que j'ai passée en courses par la Moldavie, Valachie et - Bessarabie par ordre du gén. Serjpoutóvsky auprčs duquel je suis ŕ - présent _by special appointment_, je suis resté ŕ Boukarest et ŕ - vous avouer franchement, ce genre de vie un peu dissipé, tout ŕ - fait oisif et trčs coűteux que je mčne ici me déplaît infiniment. - Auparavant c'était le service qui m'y retenait, mais ŕ présent j'y - suis resté pendant prčs de trois semaines ŕ cause d'une fičvre que - j'ai attrapée pendant mon voyage, mais dont, Dieu merci, je suis - pour le moment assez rétabli pour rejoindre dans deux ou trois - jours mon général qui est au camp prčs de Silistrie. A propos de - mon général, il a l'air d'ętre un trčs brave homme et paraît, - quoique nous nous connaissons fort peu, ętre bien disposé ŕ mon - égard. Ce qui est encore fort agréable est que son état-major est - composé pour la plupart de gens comme il faut. - - [15] While you are fancying me exposed to all the dangers - of war, I have not yet smelt Turkish powder, but am very - quietly at Bucharest, strolling about, making music, and - eating ices. In fact, all this time, except for two weeks I - spent at Oltenitza, where I was attached to a battery, and - one week I passed making excursions in Moldavia Wallachia and - Bessarabia by order of General Serzhpoutóvsky, on whose staff - I now am by special appointment, I have been at Bucharest; and - to speak frankly, the rather dissipated, quite idle and very - expensive kind of life that I lead here, displeases me very - much. Formerly it was the service that kept me here; but now - for three weeks I have been kept here by a fever caught during - my journey, but from which, thank God, I have for the present - recovered sufficiently to be able in two or three days' time - to rejoin my General, who is in camp near Silistria. Apropos - of my General, he appears to be a very fine fellow, and though - we know each other very slightly, seems well disposed toward - me. What is also agreeable is that his staff consists for the - most part of gentlemen. - -We shall find Tolstoy modifying this opinion, a little later on; but it -is worth noting that at this time he was fully alive to the superiority -of '_gens comme il faut_,' and that his depreciation of them in later -years may have been partly a reaction from a previous over-valuation. - -By June 1854 the military and political situation was as follows. The -Russians had advanced through Moldavia and Wallachia to the Danube, had -crossed that river, and were besieging Silistria. Austria, supporting -the other great powers, had massed a powerful army on the Turkish -frontier, and a glance at the map of Europe will show that the Russian -army, far removed from its base, was in imminent danger of being cut -off by the Austrians, who peremptorily summoned Russia to evacuate -the Principalities, and on 14th June concluded a formal alliance with -the Porte. These circumstances explain the sudden abandonment of the -siege of Silistria mentioned in the following letter, addressed by Leo -Tolstoy to his Aunt Tatiána and to his brother Nicholas conjointly; -though when he wrote it, the causes which produced the result he -described were a mystery to him. - - [16]Je vais vous parler donc de mes souvenirs de Silistrie. J'y ai - vu tant de choses intéressantes, poétiques et touchantes que le - temps que j'y ai passé ne s'effacera jamais de ma mémoire. Notre - camp était disposé de l'autre côté du Danube c.ŕ d. sur la rive - droite sur un terrain trčs élevé au milieu de superbes jardins, - appartenant ŕ Mustafa Pasha--le gouverneur de Silistrie. La vue - de cet endroit est non seulement magnifique, mais pour nous tous - du plus grand intéręt. Sans parler du Danube, de ces îles et de - ces rivages, les uns occupés par nous, les autres par les Turcs, - on voyait la ville, la forteresse, les petits forts de Silistrie - comme sur la main. On entendait les coups de canons, de fusils - qui ne cessaient ni jour ni nuit, et avec une lunette d'approche - on pouvait distinguer les soldats turcs. Il est vrai que c'est - un drôle de plaisir que de voir de gens s'entretuer et cependant - tous les soirs et matins je me mettais sur ma cart et je restais - des heures entičres ŕ regarder et ce n'était pas moi le seul qui - le faisait. Le spectacle était vraiment beau, surtout la nuit. - Les nuits ordinairement mes soldats se mettent aux travaux des - tranchées, et les Turcs se jettent sur eux pour les en empęcher, - alors il fallait voir et entendre cette fusillade. La premičre nuit - que j'ai passée au camp ce bruit terrible m'a reveillé et effrayé, - je croyais qu'on est allé a l'assaut et j'ai bien vite fait seller - mon cheval, mais ceux qui avait déjŕ passé quelque temps au camp - me dirent que je n'avais qu'ŕ me tenir tranquille, que cette - canonnade et fusillade était une chose ordinaire et qu'on appela en - plaisantant, 'Allah'; alors je me suis recouché, mais ne pouvant - m'endormir je me suis amusé, une montre ŕ la main, ŕ compter les - coups de canon que j'entendais et j'ai compté 110 explosions dans - l'espace d'une minute. Et cependant tout ceci n'a eu de prčs - l'air aussi effrayant que cela le paraît. La nuit, quand on n'y - voyait rien, c'était ŕ qui brűlerait le plus de poudre et avec ces - milliers de coups de canons on tuait tout au plus une trentaine - d'hommes de part et d'autre. - - Ceci donc est un spectacle ordinaire que nous avions tous les - jours et dans lequel, quand on m'envoyait avec des ordres dans les - tranchées, je prenais aussi ma part; mais nous avions aussi des - spectacles extraordinaires, comme celui de la veille de l'assaut - quand on a fait sauter une mine de 240 pouds de poudre sous un des - bastions de l'ennemi. Le matin de cette journée le prince avait - été aux tranchées avec tout son état-major (comme le général auprčs - duquel j'étais en fait partie, j'y ai aussi été) pour faire les - dispositions définies--vu pour l'assaut du lendemain. Le plan, - trop long pour que je puisse l'expliquer ici, était si bien fait, - tout était si bien prévu que personne ne doutait de la réussite. A - propos de cela il faut que je vous dise encore que je commence ŕ - avoir de l'admiration pour le prince (au reste il faut en entendre - parler parmi les officiers et les soldats, non seulement je n'ai - jamais entendu dire du mal de lui, mais il est généralement adoré). - - Je l'ai vu au feu pour la premičre fois pendant cette matinée. - Il faut voir cette figure un peu ridicule avec sa grande taille, - ses mains derričre le dos, sa casquette en arričre, ses lunettes - et sa maničre de parler comme un dindon. On voit qu'il était - tellement occupé de la marche générale des affaires que les balles - et les boulets n'existaient pas pour lui; il s'expose au danger - avec tant de simplicité, qu'on dirait qu'il n'en a pas l'idée et - qu'involontairement qu'on n'a plus peur de lui que pour soi-męme; - et puis donnant ses ordres avec tant de clarté et de précision - et avec cela toujours affable avec chacun. C'est un grand, c.ŕ - d. un homme qui s'est voué toute sa vie au service de sa patrie - et pas par l'ambition, mais par le devoir. Je vais vous raconter - un trait de lui qui se lie ŕ l'histoire de cet assaut que j'ai - commencé ŕ raconter. L'aprčs-dîner du męme jour on a fait sauter - la mine, et prčs de 600 pičces d'artillerie ont fait feu sur le - fort qu'on voulait prendre, et on continuait ce feu pendant toute - la nuit, c'était un de ces coups d'oeil et une de ces émotions - qu'on n'oublie jamais. Le soir de nouveau le prince, avec tout le - tremblement, est allé coucher aux tranchées pour diriger lui-męme - l'assaut qui devait commencer ŕ 3 heures de la nuit męme. - - Nous étions tous lŕ et comme toujours ŕ la veille d'une bataille - nous faisions tous semblant de ne pas plus penser de la journée - de demain qu'ŕ une journée ordinaire et tous, j'en suis sűr, - au fond du coeur ressentaient un petit serrement de coeur et - pas męme un petit mais un grand, ŕ l'idée de l'assaut. Comme tu - sais que le temps qui précčde une affaire est le temps le plus - désagréable--c'est le seul oů on a le temps d'avoir peur, et la - peur est un sentiment des plus désagréables. Vers le matin, plus - le moment approchait, plus le sentiment diminuait et vers 3 heures - quand nous attendions tous ŕ voir partir le bouquet de fusées qui - était le signal de l'attaque--j'étais si bien disposé que si l'on - était venu me dire que l'assaut n'aurait pas lieu, cela m'aurait - fait beaucoup de peine. Et voilŕ que juste une heure avant le - moment de l'assaut arrive un aide de camp du maréchal avec l'ordre - d'ôter le sičge de Silistrie. Je puis dire sans craindre de me - tromper que cette nouvelle a été reçue par tous--soldats, officiers - et généraux--comme un vrai malheur, d'autant plus qu'on savait par - les espions, qui nous venaient trčs souvent de Silistrie, et avec - lesquels j'avais trčs souvent l'occasion de causer moi-męme, on - savait que ce fort pris,--chose dont personne ne doutait--Silistrie - ne pouvait tenir plus de 2 ou 3 jours. N'est-ce pas que si cette - nouvelle devait faire de la peine ŕ quelqu'un ce devait ętre au - prince, qui pendant toute cette campagne ayant fait toute chose - pour le mieux, au beau milieu de l'action vit venir le maréchal - sur son dos pour gâter les affaires et puis ayant la seule chance - de réparer nos revers par cet assaut, il reçoit le contre ordre - du maréchal au moment de le commencer. Eh bien, le prince n'a pas - eu un moment de mauvaise humeur, lui, qui est si impressionable, - au contraire il a été content de pouvoir éviter cette boucherie, - dont il devait porter la responsabilité et tout le temps de la - retraite qu'il a dirigé lui-męme, ne voulant passer qu'avec - le dernier des soldats, qui s'est faite avec un ordre et une - exactitude remarquables, il a été plus gai qu'il n'a jamais été. Ce - qui contribuait beaucoup ŕ sa bonne humeur, c'était l'émigration - de prčs de 7000 familles bulgares, que nous prenons avec pour le - souvenir de la férocité des Turcs--férocité a laquelle malgré mon - incredulité j'ai été obligé de croire. Dčs que nous avons quitté - des différents villages bulgares que nous occupions, les Turcs y - sont revenus et excepté les femmes assez jeunes pour un harem, ils - ont fait main basse sur tout ce qu'il y avait. Il y a un village - dans lequel je suis allé du camp pour y prendre du lait et des - fruits qui a été exterminé de la sorte. Alors dčs que le prince - avait fait savoir aux Bulgares que ceux qui voulaient pouvaient - avec l'armée passer le Danube et devenir sujets russes, tout le - pays se soulčve et tous avec leurs femmes, enfants, chevaux, - bétails arrivent au pont,--mais comme il était impossible de les - prendre tous, le prince a été obligé de refuser ŕ ceux qui sont - venus les derniers et il fallait voir comme cela le chagrinait. - Il recevait toutes les députations qui venaient de ces pauvres - gens, il causait avec chacun d'eux, tâchait de leur expliquer - l'impossibilité de la chose, leur proposait de passer sans leurs - chariots et leur bétail et en se chargeant de leurs moyens de - subsistence jusqu'ŕ ce qu'ils arrivassent en Russie, payant de sa - propre bourse des vaisseaux particuliers pour les transporter, en - un mot faisant tout son possible pour faire du bien ŕ ces gens. - - Oui, chčre tante, je voudrais bien que votre prophétie se réalise. - La chose que j'ambitionne le plus, est d'ętre l'aide de camp d'un - homme comme lui que j'aime et que j'estime du plus profond de mon - coeur. Adieu, chčre et bonne tante; je baise vos mains. - - [16] I am going to tell you of my recollections of Silistria. - I there saw so much that was interesting, poetic and touching, - that the time I passed there will never be effaced from my - memory. Our camp was on the other side of the Danube, _i.e._ - on the right bank, on very high ground amid splendid gardens - belonging to Mustafa Pasha, the Governor of Silistria. The - view from that place is not only magnificent, but of the - greatest interest to us all. Not to speak of the Danube, its - islets and its banks, some occupied by us, others by the - Turks, one could see the town, the fortress and the little - forts of Silistria as on the palm of one's hand. One heard - the booming of cannon and musket-shots unceasingly day and - night; and with a spy-glass one could distinguish the Turkish - soldiers. It is true it is a queer sort of pleasure to see - people killing one another, yet every evening and every - morning I got on to my cart and remained for hours at a - time, watching: nor was I the only one who did so. The sight - was really fine, especially at night. At night my soldiers - usually undertake trench-work, and the Turks fling themselves - upon them to hinder them; then one should see and hear the - fusillade! The first night I passed in camp, this dreadful - noise awoke and frightened me: I thought an assault had - begun. I very soon had my horse saddled; but those who had - been already some time in camp told me that I had only to - keep quiet: that this cannonade and fusillade was an ordinary - affair, and they jestingly called it 'Allah.' Then I lay down - again; but not being able to sleep, I amused myself, watch in - hand, counting the cannon-shots, and I counted 110 reports in - a minute. And yet, at close quarters, all this did not look - so terrible as might be supposed. At night, when nothing was - visible, it was a case of who could burn most powder, and with - all these thousands of cannon-shots at most some thirty men - were killed on each side.... - - This then was an ordinary performance we had every day, and - one in which I took a share when I was sent to the trenches - with orders; but we also had extraordinary performances, - such as the one on the eve of the attack, when a mine of 240 - poods (8600 lbs.) of gunpowder was exploded under one of the - enemy's bastions. On the morning of that day the Prince had - been to the trenches with all his staff (and as the General - I was attached to belong to it, I was there too) to make the - final arrangements for next day's assault. The plan--too - long for me to explain here--was so well arranged, all was - so well foreseen, that no one doubted its success. Apropos - of this I must tell you further that I am beginning to feel - admiration for the Prince (for that matter you should hear how - the officers and soldiers speak of him: not only have I never - heard him spoken ill of, but he is generally adored). - - That morning I saw him under fire for the first time. You - should see his rather absurd tall figure, his hands behind his - back, his cap on the back of his head, his spectacles, and - his way of speaking like a turkey-cock. One could see that he - was so preoccupied with the general trend of affairs that the - balls and bullets did not exist as far as he was concerned. - He exposes himself to danger so simply that one would say he - was unconscious of it, and involuntarily one fears it only for - oneself; [The text here is obscure, and the meaning a little - doubtful] and then he gives his orders with such clearness - and precision, and is at the same time always so affable with - everybody. He is a great man, _i.e._ a capable and honest man, - as I understand the word: one who has dedicated his whole - life to the service of his country, and not from ambition, - but for the sake of duty. I will give you a trait of his - character connected with the story I had begun to tell you of - the assault. After dinner that same day, the mine was sprung, - and nearly 600 guns opened fire on the fort we wished to take, - and this continued the whole night. It was such a sight and - such an emotion as one never forgets. That evening the Prince, - amid all the commotion, went to sleep in the trenches, that he - might personally direct the assault, which was to begin at 3 - o'clock the same night. - - We were all there, and as usual on the eve of a battle, we - all made believe not to think of the morrow more than of any - other day, and we all, I am sure, at bottom, felt our hearts - contract a little (and not a little, but a great deal) at - the thought of the assault. As you know, the time before a - fight is the most disagreeable: it is only then that one has - time to be afraid, and fear is a most disagreeable feeling. - Towards morning, the nearer the moment came the more the - feeling diminished, and towards 3 o'clock when we were all - expecting to see a shower of rockets let off, which was the - signal for the attack, I was so well inclined for it that I - should have been much disappointed if any one had come to - tell me that the attack was not to take place. And there! - Just an hour before the time for the attack, an aide-de-camp - comes from the Field-Marshal [Paskévitch, who for a time took - over the supreme command of the army of the Danube] with - orders to raise the siege of Silistria! I can say, without - fear of making a mistake, that this news was received by all, - soldiers, officers, and generals, as a real misfortune, the - more so as we knew from the spies--who very often came to us - from Silistria, and with whom I very often had occasion to - speak--that once we had taken this fort (about which none - of us felt any doubt) Silistria could not have held out for - more than 2 or 3 days. Is it not true that if this news was - calculated to pain any one, it must have been the Prince, - who having all through this campaign arranged everything for - the best, yet saw, in the very middle of the action, the - Field-Marshal override him and spoil the business? Having - this one chance to repair our reverses by this assault, he - received counter-orders from the Field-Marshal at the moment - of commencing! Well, the Prince was not put out of temper for - a moment. He who is so impressionable, was, on the contrary, - pleased to be able to avoid that butchery, the responsibility - for which he would have had to bear; and during the whole time - of the retreat--which he directed personally, not wishing to - cross (the Danube) before the last of the soldiers--which took - place with remarkable order and exactitude, he was gayer than - he has ever been. What contributed much to his good humour, - was the emigration of nearly 7000 Bulgarian families, whom we - took with us as a reminder of the ferocity of the Turks: a - ferocity in which, in spite of my incredulity, I was obliged - to believe. As soon as we quitted the different Bulgarian - villages we had occupied, the Turks returned to them, and - except women young enough for a harem, they made a clean sweep - of all that was in them. There was one village to which I went - from the camp for milk and fruit, which had been exterminated - in this way. So, as soon as the Prince let the Bulgarians - know that those who wished to, could cross the Danube with - our army and could become Russian subjects, the whole country - rose, and with their wives, children, horses and cattle, came - to the bridge: but as it was impossible to take them all, the - Prince was obliged to refuse the last arrivals, and you should - have seen how it grieved him to do so. He received all the - deputations which came from these poor folk, and spoke with - them all: trying to explain the impossibility of the matter, - offering to let them cross without their carts and cattle, - charging himself with their support till they could reach - Russia, and out of his own purse paying for private ships to - transport them; in a word, doing his very best for the welfare - of these people. - - Yes, dear Aunt, I should much like your prophecy to come true. - What I desire most is to be aide-de-camp to such a man as he, - whom I love and esteem from the bottom of my heart. Adieu, - dear and kind Aunt. I kiss your hands. - -The army retired to Bucharest, and here, at an officers' ball, Tolstoy -seized an opportunity to beg Gortchakóf to have him transferred to -where service would be most active. - -The retreat from Silistria took place at the end of June, and on 2nd -August we find Tolstoy starting for Russia. On the journey he fell ill -and had to lie up in hospital. On 13th November in Kishinéf he renewed -his application for an appointment in the Crimea, and was ordered to -Sevastopol, which he reached on the 20th of that month.[17] - - [17] In this chapter the dates, when possible, are given new - style (12 days later than the Russian style), in order that - they may tally with English accounts of the Crimean war. - - -1854 - -The situation there, at this time, was the following. The Allies had -landed in the Crimea to the north of Sevastopol on 14th September, -and had defeated the Russian army under Ménshikof on the 20th at -Alma. Instead of marching straight into the town, which was almost -undefended, they had then gone round and encamped on the south side, -where they remained inactive till 17th October, by which time Todleben, -an engineer of rare genius, had thrown up earthworks and mounted -guns (many of them taken from the Russian ships Ménshikof sank at -the entrance to the Roadstead). Ménshikof himself had practically -abandoned the town, withdrawing the bulk of his army northward; but -the situation was saved by the patriotism of just that section of the -Russian forces which had been least exposed to the deadening influence -of Nicholas the First's militarism,--namely by the officers and men -of the fleet. Inspired by the example of the heroic Admiral Kornílof -(who lost his life during the siege) they rallied to the defence with a -courageous devotion seldom paralleled. Their example awoke enthusiasm -throughout Russia and compelled Ménshikof to supply reinforcements, -which enabled the town to hold out for eleven months, in spite of the -great superiority of the Allies in rifles, artillery and the modern -equipments of war generally. - -Tolstoy reached Sevastopol when the defence was already fully -organised, and when (in spite of the repulse experienced by the -Russians at Inkerman) the garrison had gained confidence in their -powers of resistance, and had settled down to a dogged defence. - -Of the hospitals, in which the wounded saw one another's limbs -amputated while waiting their own turn; of the staff officers, who -managed to amuse themselves pretty well during the siege; of the -commissariat officers, flourishing amid the general havoc; as well as -of the line and non-commissioned officers and privates, upon whom the -greatest hardships fell, Tolstoy gives vivid glimpses in the Sketches -he wrote during the siege. - -A fortnight after his arrival he writes, from somewhere outside the -town, to his brother Sergius, apologising for not having sent him a -letter sooner, and adds: - - So much have I learnt, experienced, and felt this year that I - positively do not know what to begin to describe, nor how to - describe it as I wish to.... Silistria is now ancient history, and - we have Sevastopol, of which I suppose you all read with beating - hearts, and where I was four days ago. Well, how can I tell you - all I saw there, and where I went and what I did, and what the - prisoners and wounded French and English say; and _whether it hurts - them and hurts very much_,[18] and what heroes our enemies are, - especially the English? I will tell all that later at Yásnaya or at - Pirogóvo; and you will learn much of it from me through the press. - How this will happen, I will explain later; but now let me give - you an idea of the position of affairs in Sevastopol. The town is - besieged from one side, the south, where we had no fortifications - when the enemy approached it. Now we have on that side more than - 500 heavy guns, and several lines of earthworks, positively - impregnable. I spent a week in the fortress, and to the last day - used to lose my way among that labyrinth of batteries, as in a - wood. More than three weeks ago the enemy advanced his trenches at - one place to within 200 yards, but gets no further. When he makes - the smallest advance he is overwhelmed with a hailstorm of shot and - shell. - - [18] This must refer to some family joke, as it occurs in - other letters home, apropos of people who were killed. - - The spirit of the army is beyond all description. In the times of - ancient Greece there was not such heroism. Kornílof, making the - round of the troops, instead of greeting them with, 'Good health to - you, lads!' says: 'If you have to die, lads, will you die?' and the - troops shout, 'We'll die, Your Excellency! Hurrah!' and they do not - say it for effect. On every face one saw that it was not jest but - earnest; and 22,000 men have already fulfilled the promise. - - A wounded soldier, almost dying, told me they captured the 24th - French Battery but were not reinforced; and he wept aloud. A - Company of Marines nearly mutinied because they were to be - withdrawn from batteries in which they had been exposed to - shell-fire for thirty days. The soldiers extract the fuses from - the shells. Women carry water to the bastions for the soldiers. - Many are killed and wounded. The priests with their crosses go - to the bastions and read prayers under fire. In one brigade, the - 24th, more than 160 wounded men would not leave the front. It is - a wonderful time! Now, however, after the 24th, we have quieted - down; it has become splendid in Sevastopol. The enemy hardly - fires, and all are convinced that he will not take the town; and - it is really impossible.... I have not yet succeeded in being in - action even once; but thank God that I have seen these people - and live in this glorious time. The bombardment of the 5th [17 - October, n.s.] remains the most brilliant and glorious feat not - only in the history of Russia, but in the history of the world. - More than 1500 cannon were in action for two days against the - town, and not only did not cause it to capitulate, but did not - silence one two-hundredth part of our batteries. Though, I suppose, - this campaign is unfavourably regarded in Russia, our descendants - will place it above all others; do not forget that we, with equal - or even inferior forces, and armed only with bayonets, and with - the worst troops in the Russian army (such as the 6th corps) are - fighting a more numerous enemy aided by a fleet, armed with 3000 - cannon, excellently supplied with rifles and with their best - troops. I do not even mention the superiority of their Generals. - - Only our army could hold its ground and conquer (we shall yet - conquer, of that I am convinced) under such circumstances. You - should see the French and English prisoners (especially the - latter): they are each one better than the other--morally and - physically fine fellows. The Cossacks say it is even a pity to cut - them down, and alongside of them you should see some Chasseurs or - others of ours: small, lousy, and shrivelled up. - - Now I will tell you how you will get printed news from me of the - deeds of these lousy and shrivelled heroes. In our artillery - staff, consisting, as I think I wrote you, of very good and - worthy men, a project has been started for publishing a military - newspaper, in order to maintain a good spirit in the army--a cheap - paper (at Rs. 3) and popularly written, so that the soldiers may - read it. We have drawn up a plan and submitted it to the Prince. - He likes the idea very much, and has submitted the project and a - specimen sheet which we also wrote, for the Emperor's sanction. - I and Stolýpin[19] are advancing the money for the publication. - I have been chosen joint editor with a Mr. Konstantínof, who - published _The Caucasus_, a man experienced in such work. The paper - will publish descriptions of the battles (but not such dry and - mendacious ones as other papers) courageous deeds, biographies, and - obituaries of good men, especially the unknown; military stories, - soldiers' songs, and popular articles on engineering, artillery, - etc. This plan pleases me very much: in the first place, I like the - work; and secondly, I hope the paper will be useful and not quite - bad. It is as yet merely a project, until we know the Emperor's - reply, about which I confess I have my fears. In the specimen sheet - sent to Petersburg, we rashly inserted two articles, one by me and - one by Rostóvtsef, not quite orthodox. For this business I want Rs. - 1500, which I have asked Valeryán to send me. - - [19] Father of the present (1908) Premier of Russia. - - I, thank God, am well, and live happily and pleasantly since I - returned from Turkey. In general, my army service divides up into - two periods: beyond the frontier--horrid: I was ill, poor, and - lonely. This side of the frontier--I am well and have good friends, - though I am still poor: money simply runs away. - - As to writing, I do not write; but, as Aunty teases me by saying, - 'I test myself.' One thing disquiets me: this is the fourth year - I live without female society; and I may become quite coarse and - unsuited for family life, which I so enjoy. - -A few days later his battery was moved to Simferópol, a town lying to -the north of Sevastopol, beyond the sphere of actual fighting. - - -1855 - -On 6th January (o.s.) he wrote to his Aunt: - - [20]On ne se bat plus en rase campagne, ŕ cause de l'hiver qui est - extraordinairement rigoureux, surtout ŕ présent; mais le sičge - dure toujours.... J'avais parlé je crois d'une occupation que - j'avais en vue et qui me souriait beaucoup; ŕ présent que la chose - est décidée, je puis le dire. J'avais l'idée de fonder un journal - militaire. Ce projet auquel j'ai travaillé avec le concours de - beaucoup de gens trčs distingués fut approuvé par le prince et - envoyé ŕ la décision de sa Majesté, mais l'empereur a refusé. - - Cette déconfiture, je vous l'avoue, m'a fait une peine infinie et a - beaucoup changé mes plans. Si Dieu veut que la campagne de Crimée - finisse bien et si je ne reçois pas une place dont je sois content, - et qu'il n'y ait pas de guerre en Russie, je quitterai l'armée pour - aller ŕ Pétersbourg ŕ l'académie militaire. Ce plan m'est venu, - 1° parce que je voudrais ne pas abandonner la littérature dont il - m'est impossible de m'occuper dans cette vie de camp, et 2° parce - qu'il me paraît que je commence ŕ devenir ambitieux, pas ambitieux, - mais je voudrais faire du bien et pour le faire il faut ętre plus - qu'un Sub-Lieutenant; 3° parce que je vous verrai tous et tous mes - amis. - - [20] There is no more fighting in the open country on account - of the winter, which is extraordinarily rigorous, particularly - just now; but the siege still goes on.... I think I have - mentioned an occupation I had in view, which promised very - well--as I may say, now that it is settled. I had the idea of - founding a military newspaper. This project, at which I worked - with the co-operation of many very distinguished men, was - approved by the Prince and submitted to His Majesty for his - consent, but he has refused. - - This disappointment has, I confess, distressed me greatly, - and has much altered my plans. If God wills that the - Crimean campaign should end well, and if I do not receive - an appointment that satisfies me, and if there is no war in - Russia, I shall leave the army and go to Petersburg to the - Military Academy. I have formed this plan, (1) because I do - not want to abandon literature, at which it is impossible to - work amid this camp life; (2) because it seems to me that I am - becoming ambitious: not ambitious, but I want to do some good, - and to do it one must be something more than a Sub-Lieutenant, - and (3) because I shall see you all and all my friends. - -In May he wrote again to his brother: - - From Kishinéf on 1st November (o.s.), I petitioned to be sent to - the Crimea, partly in order to see this war, and partly to break - away from Serzhpoutóvsky's staff, which I did not like, but most - of all from patriotism, of which at that time, I confess, I had a - bad attack. I did not ask for any special appointment, but left - it to those in authority to dispose of my fate. In the Crimea I - was appointed to a battery in Sevastopol itself, where I passed - a month very pleasantly amid simple, good companions, who are - specially good in time of real war and danger. In December our - battery was removed to Simferópol, and there I spent 6 weeks in a - squire's comfortable house, riding into Simferópol to dance and - play the piano with young ladies, and in hunting wild goats on the - Tchatyrdag [the highest point of the chain of mountains running - across the southern part of the Crimea] in company with officials. - In January there was a fresh shuffling of officers, and I was - removed to a battery encamped on the banks of the Belbék, 7 miles - from Sevastopol. There I got into hot water: the nastiest set of - officers in the battery; a Commander who, though good-hearted, was - violent and coarse; no comforts, and it was cold in the earth huts. - Not a single book, nor a single man with whom one could talk; and - there I received the Rs. 1500 [= about Ł180 at that time] for the - newspaper, sanction for which had already been refused; and there I - lost Rs. 2500, and thereby proved to all the world that I am still - an empty fellow, and though the previous circumstances may be taken - into account in mitigation, the case is still a very, very bad one. - In March it became warmer, and a good fellow, an excellent man, - Brenévsky, joined the battery. I began to recover myself; and on 1 - April, at the very time of the bombardment, the battery was moved - to Sevastopol, and I quite recovered myself. There, till 15 May - (o.s.) I was in serious danger, _i.e._ for four days at a time, at - intervals of eight days, I was in charge of a battery in the 4th - Bastion; but it was spring and the weather was excellent, there was - abundance of impressions and of people, all the comforts of life, - and we formed a capital circle of well-bred fellows; so that those - six weeks will remain among my pleasantest recollections. On 15 - May Gortchakóf, or the Commander of the Artillery, took it into his - head to entrust me with the formation and command of a mountain - platoon at Belbék, 14 miles from Sevastopol, with which arrangement - I am up to the present extremely well satisfied in many respects. - -The transfer of Tolstoy from Sevastopol to Belbék was not, as he -supposed when he wrote this letter, a whim of Gortchakóf's or of the -Commander of the Artillery, but a result of his having written the -first of his three sketches of the siege of Sevastopol, _Sevastopol in -December_. The article, though not published in the _Contemporary_ till -June, had been read in proof by the Emperor Alexander II [Nicholas had -died 2nd March, n.s.], and had caused him to give instructions to 'take -care of the life of that young man,' with the result that Tolstoy was -removed from Sevastopol. The Dowager Empress Alexándra Fédorovna also -read the story and, it is said, wept over it. - -It was, perhaps, at this time (though I am not sure of the date) that -Tolstoy found himself obliged to consent to the sale of the large -wooden house in which he had been born, for the wretched price of 5000 -'assignation roubles' (about Ł170). The house was taken to pieces, and -removed to the estate of the purchaser, where it still stands, though -not now in use. - -Apropos of the above letter it should be mentioned that the Fourth -Bastion was the one English writers call 'the Flagstaff Bastion.' It -formed the southernmost point of the fortifications, as a glance at -the accompanying map will show, and it was for a long time the point -exposed to the fiercest fire. - -Throughout the siege Tolstoy was accompanied by Alexis, one of the four -serfs presented to the young Tolstoys when they entered the University. -This man (who figures in more than one of Tolstoy's works under -the name of Alyósha) brought him his rations to the bastion, a duty -involving considerable danger. What the bastions were like in the first -months of the siege, we learn from the following passages in the first -part of _Sevastopol_: - -[Illustration] - - ...You want to get quickly to the bastions, especially to that - Fourth Bastion about which you have been told so many and such - different tales. When any one says, 'I am going to the Fourth - Bastion,' a slight agitation or a too marked indifference is always - noticeable in him; if men are joking they say, 'You should be - sent to the Fourth Bastion.' When you meet some one carried on a - stretcher, and ask, 'Where from?' the answer usually is, 'From the - Fourth Bastion.'... - - ...Beyond this barricade the houses on both sides of the street - are unoccupied: there are no signboards, the doors are boarded - up, the windows smashed; here a corner of the walls is knocked - down, and there a roof is broken in. The buildings look like old - veterans who have borne much sorrow and privation; they even seem - to gaze proudly and somewhat contemptuously at you. On the road - you stumble over cannon-balls that lie about, and into holes full - of water, made in the stony ground by bombs. You meet and overtake - detachments of soldiers, Cossacks, officers, and occasionally a - woman or a child--only it will not be a woman wearing a bonnet, but - a sailor's wife wearing an old cloak and soldier's boots. Farther - along the same street, after you have descended a little slope, you - will notice that there are now no houses, but only ruined walls in - strange heaps of bricks, boards, clay and beams, and before you, - up a steep hill, you see a black untidy space cut up by ditches. - This space you are approaching is the Fourth Bastion.... Here you - will meet still fewer people and no women at all, the soldiers - walk briskly by, traces of blood may be seen on the road, and - you are sure to meet four soldiers carrying a stretcher, and on - the stretcher probably a pale, yellow face and a blood-stained - overcoat.... - - The whiz of cannon-ball or bomb near by, impresses you unpleasantly - as you ascend the hill, and you at once understand the meaning - of the sounds very differently from when they reached you in the - town.... You have hardly gone a little way up, when bullets begin - to whiz past you right and left, and you will perhaps consider - whether you had not better walk inside the trench which runs - parallel to the road; but the trench is full of such yellow, - liquid, stinking mud, more than knee deep, that you are sure to - choose the road, especially as _everybody_ keeps to the road. - After walking a couple of hundred yards, you come to a muddy - place much cut up, surrounded by gabions, cellars, platforms, and - dug-outs, and on which large cast-iron cannon are mounted, and - cannon-balls lie piled in orderly heaps. All seems placed without - any aim, connection, or order. Here a group of sailors are sitting - in the battery; here, in the middle of the open space, half sunk - in mud, lies a shattered cannon; and there a foot-soldier is - crossing the battery, drawing his feet with difficulty out of - the sticky mud. Everywhere, on all sides and all about, you see - bomb-fragments, unexploded bombs, cannon-balls, and various traces - of an encampment, all sunk in the liquid, sticky mud. You think you - hear the thud of a cannon-ball not far off, and you seem to hear - the different sounds of bullets all around--some humming like bees, - some whistling, and some rapidly flying past with a shrill screech - like the string of some instrument. You hear the awful boom of a - shot which sends a shock all through you, and seems most dreadful. - - 'So this is it, the Fourth Bastion! This is that terrible, truly - dreadful spot!' So you think, experiencing a slight feeling - of pride and a strong feeling of suppressed fear. But you are - mistaken; this is still not the Fourth Bastion. This is only the - Yazónovsky Redoubt--comparatively a very safe and not at all - dreadful place. To get to the Fourth Bastion you must turn to the - right, along that narrow trench, where a foot-soldier, stooping - down, has just passed. In this trench you may again meet men with - stretchers, and perhaps a sailor or a soldier with spades. You - will see the mouths of mines, dug-outs into which only two men - can crawl, and there you will see the Cossacks of the Black Sea - Battalions, changing their boots, eating, smoking their pipes, and, - in short, living. And you will see again the same stinking mud, - the traces of camp life, and cast-iron refuse of every shape and - form. When you have gone some three hundred steps more, you come - out at another battery--a flat space with many holes, surrounded - with gabions filled with earth, and cannons on platforms, and the - whole walled in with earthworks. Here you will perhaps see four or - five soldiers playing cards under shelter of the breastworks; and - a naval officer, noticing that you are a stranger and inquisitive, - is pleased to show you his 'household' and everything that can - interest you.... He will tell you (but only if you ask) about the - bombardment on the 5th of October; will tell you how only one gun - in his battery remained usable and only eight gunners were left of - the whole crew, and how, all the same, next morning, the 6th, he - fired all his guns. He will tell you how a bomb dropped into one of - the dug-outs and knocked over eleven sailors; he will show you from - an embrasure the enemy's batteries and trenches, which are here not - more than seventy-five to eighty-five yards distant. I am afraid, - though, that when you lean out of the embrasure to have a look at - the enemy, you will, under the influence of the whizzing bullets, - not see anything; but if you do see anything, you will be much - surprised to find that this whitish stone wall which is so near - you, and from which puffs of white smoke keep bursting--that this - white wall is the enemy: is _him_, as the soldiers and sailors say. - - It is even very likely that the naval officer, from vanity, - or merely for a little recreation, will wish to show you some - firing. 'Call the gunner and crew to the cannon'; and fourteen - sailors--clattering their hob-nailed boots on the platform, - one putting his pipe in his pocket, another still chewing a - rusk--quickly and cheerfully man the gun and begin loading. - - Suddenly the most fearful roar strikes not only your ears but your - whole being, and makes you shudder all over. It is followed by the - whistle of the departing ball, and a thick cloud of powder-smoke - envelops you, the platform, and the moving black figures of the - sailors. You will hear various comments by the sailors concerning - this shot of ours, and you will notice their animation, the - evidences of a feeling which you had not perhaps expected: the - feeling of animosity and thirst for vengeance which lies hidden - in each man's soul. You will hear joyful exclamations: 'It's gone - right into the embrasure! It's killed two, I think.... There, - they're carrying them off!' 'And now _he's_ riled, and will send - one this way,' some one remarks; and really, soon after, you will - see before you a flash and some smoke; the sentinel standing on the - breastwork will call out 'Ca-n-non,' and then a ball will whiz past - you and squash into the earth, throwing out a circle of stones and - mud. The commander of the battery will be irritated by this shot - and will give orders to fire another and another cannon, the enemy - will reply in like manner, and you will experience interesting - sensations and see interesting sights. The sentinel will again call - 'Cannon!' and you will have the same sound and shock, and the mud - will be splashed round as before. Or he will call out 'Mortar!' and - you will hear the regular and rather pleasant whistle--which it is - difficult to connect with the thought of anything dreadful--of a - bomb; you will hear this whistle coming nearer and faster towards - you, then you will see a black ball, feel the shock as it strikes - the ground, and will hear the ringing explosion. The bomb will fly - apart into whizzing and shrieking fragments, stones will rattle - into the air, and you will be bespattered with mud. - - At these sounds you will experience a strange feeling of mingled - pleasure and fear. At the moment you know the shot is flying - towards you, you are sure to imagine that this shot will kill you, - but a feeling of pride will support you and no one will know of the - knife that is cutting your heart. But when the shot has flown past - and has not hit you, you revive, and, though only for a moment, a - glad, inexpressibly joyous feeling seizes you, so that you feel - some peculiar delight in the danger--in this game of life and - death--and wish that bombs and balls would fall nearer and nearer - to you. - - But again the sentinel, in his loud, thick voice, shouts 'Mortar!' - again a whistle, a fall, an explosion; and mingled with the last - you are startled by the groans of a man. You approach the wounded - man just as the stretchers are brought. Covered with blood and dirt - he presents a strange, not human, appearance. Part of the sailor's - breast has been torn away.... - - 'That's the way with seven or eight every day,' the naval officer - remarks to you, answering the look of horror on your face, and he - yawns as he rolls another yellow cigarette. - -As the siege progressed, things became worse, and in the last part of -_Sevastopol_ Tolstoy, after telling how one of the characters felt -satisfied with himself, continues: - - This feeling, however, was quickly shaken by a sight he came upon - in the twilight while looking for the Commander of the bastion. - Four sailors stood by the breastwork holding by its arms and legs - the bloody corpse of a man without boots or coat, swinging it - before heaving it over. (It was found impossible in some parts to - clear away the corpses from the bastions, and they were, therefore, - thrown out into the ditch, so as not to be in the way at the - batteries.) Volódya felt stunned for a moment when he saw the body - bump on the top of the breastwork and then roll down into the - ditch, but luckily for him the Commander of the bastion met him - just then and gave him his orders, as well as a guide to show him - the way to the battery and to the bomb-proof assigned to his men. - We will not speak of all the dangers and disenchantments our hero - lived through that evening; how--instead of the firing he was used - to, amid conditions of perfect exactitude and order which he had - expected to meet with here also,--he found two injured mortars, - one with its mouth battered in by a ball, the other standing on - the splinters of its shattered platform; how he could not get - workmen to mend the platform till the morning; how not a single - charge was of the weight specified in the Handbook; how two of the - men under him were wounded, and how he was twenty times within a - hair's-breadth of death. Fortunately a gigantic gunner, a seaman - who had served with the mortars since the commencement of the - siege, had been appointed to assist Volódya, and convinced him of - the possibility of using the mortars. By the light of a lantern, - this gunner showed him all over the battery as he might have shown - him over his own kitchen-garden, and undertook to have everything - right by the morning. The bomb-proof to which his guide led him - was an oblong hole dug in the rocky ground, 25 cubic yards in size - and covered with oak beams nearly 2-1/2 feet thick. He and all his - soldiers installed themselves in it. - -It was during one of his sojourns in the Fourth Bastion, that Tolstoy -noted down in his Diary the following prayer: - - Lord, I thank Thee for Thy continual protection. How surely Thou - leadest me to what is good. What an insignificant creature should - I be, if Thou abandoned me! Leave me not, Lord; give me what is - necessary, not for the satisfaction of my poor aspirations, but - that I may attain to the eternal, vast, unknown aim of existence, - which lies beyond my ken. - -It was due to Tolstoy's own choice that he was exposed to the rough -life of the bastion, for Prince Gortchakóf, at whose house he was a -constant visitor, had offered him an appointment on his staff. This -offer, which at Silistria he had so ardently desired, Tolstoy declined, -having come to the conclusion, subsequently expressed in his writings, -that the influence exercised by the staff on the conduct of a war -is always pernicious! This opinion not only influenced his conduct, -and expressed itself in his novels, but fitted into a general view -of life he ultimately arrived at, a view the consequences of which -must be dealt with in the sequel to this work. For the moment, let -it suffice to mention that whereas he shows a keen appreciation of -Admiral Kornílof's achievement in rousing the spirit of the garrison, -he nowhere praises Todleben's achievement in organising the defence of -the town and improvising that 'labyrinth of batteries' in which Tolstoy -used constantly to lose his way. He says, for instance: - - Now you have seen the defenders of Sevastopol.... The principal, - joyous thought you have brought away is a conviction of the - strength of the Russian people; and this conviction you gained, - not by looking at all these traverses, breastworks, cunningly - interlaced trenches, mines and cannon, one on top of another, - of which you could make nothing; but from the eyes, words and - actions--in short, from seeing what is called the 'spirit' of the - defenders of Sevastopol. - -To everything a man can do off his own bat and by his own effort, -Tolstoy is keenly alive and sympathetic; but when it comes to a -complex, co-ordinated plan, involving the subordination of many parts -to one whole, he is suspicious or even hostile. Had he remained a -subordinate officer, or even a novelist, it would not have been -specially necessary to draw attention to this peculiarity; but that -we may understand his later teachings, it is important to note all the -roots of feeling from which they grew, and this one among the rest. - -To get on however with our tale. One evening, while Tolstoy was sitting -with the adjutants of Count Osten-Sáken, Commander of the Garrison, -Prince S. S. Ouroúsof, a brave officer and first-rate chess player (he -took part in the International Chess Tournament of 1862, in London) -and a friend of Tolstoy's, entered the room and wished to speak to -the General. An adjutant took him to Osten-Sáken's room, and ten -minutes later Ouroúsof passed out again, looking very glum. After he -had gone, the adjutant explained that Ouroúsof had come to suggest -that a challenge should be sent to the English to play a game of chess -for the foremost trench in front of the Fifth Bastion: a trench that -had changed hands several times and had already cost some hundreds of -lives. Osten-Sáken had naturally refused to issue the challenge. - -On 16th August Tolstoy took part in the battle of the Tchérnaya (Black -River) in which the Sardinian contingent, which had arrived in May to -reinforce the Allies, much distinguished itself. This last attempt to -relieve Sevastopol failed, as its forerunners had done. Three days -later Tolstoy wrote to his brother saying that he had not been hurt, -and that 'I did nothing, as my mountain artillery was not called on to -fire.' - -The end of the siege was now approaching, and on 8th September Tolstoy, -having volunteered for service in Sevastopol, reached the Star Fort on -the North Side of the Roadstead just in time to witness the capture -of the Maláhof by the French, as he has described in _Sevastopol in -August_.[21] - - [21] The _8th September_, new style, was _24th August_, old - style. - - On the North Side of the Roadstead, at the Star Fort, near noon, - two sailors stood on the 'telegraph' mound; one of them, an - officer, was looking at Sevastopol through the fixed telescope. - Another officer, accompanied by a Cossack, had just ridden up - to join him at the big Signal-post.... Along the whole line of - fortifications, but especially on the high ground on the left side, - appeared, several at a time, with lightnings that at times flashed - bright even in the noonday sun, puffs of thick, dense, white smoke, - that grew, taking various shapes and appearing darker against the - sky. These clouds, showing now here now there, appeared on the - hills, on the enemy's batteries, in the town, and high up in the - sky. The reports of explosions never ceased, but rolled together - and rent the air. - - Towards noon the puffs appeared more and more rarely, and the air - vibrated less with the booming. - - 'I say, the Second Bastion does not reply at all now!' said the - officer on horseback; 'it is quite knocked to pieces. Terrible!' - - 'Yes, and the Maláhof, too, sends hardly one shot in reply to three - of theirs,' said he who was looking through the telescope. 'Their - silence provokes me! They are shooting straight into the Kornílof - Battery, and it does not reply.' - - 'But look there! I told you that they always cease the bombardment - about noon. It's the same to-day. Come, let's go to lunch; they'll - be waiting for us already. What's the good of looking?' - - 'Wait a bit!' answered the one who had possession of the telescope, - looking very eagerly towards Sevastopol. - - 'What is it? What?' - - 'A movement in the entrenchments, thick columns advancing.' - - 'Yes! They can be seen even without a glass, marching in columns. - The alarm must be given,' said the seaman. - - 'Look! look! They've left the trenches!' - - And, really, with the naked eye one could see what looked like - dark spots moving down the hill from the French batteries across - the valley to the bastions. In front of these spots dark stripes - were already visibly approaching our line. On the bastions white - cloudlets burst in succession as if chasing one another. The wind - brought a sound of rapid small-arm firing, like the beating of - rain against a window. The dark stripes were moving in the midst - of the smoke and came nearer and nearer. The sounds of firing, - growing stronger and stronger, mingled in a prolonged, rumbling - peal. Puffs of smoke rose more and more often, spread rapidly along - the line, and at last formed one lilac cloud (dotted here and there - with little faint lights and black spots) which kept curling and - uncurling; and all the sounds blent into one tremendous clatter. - - 'An assault!' said the naval officer, turning pale and letting the - seaman look through the telescope. - - Cossacks galloped along the road, some officers rode by, the - Commander-in-Chief passed in a carriage with his suite. Every face - showed painful excitement and expectation. - - 'It's impossible they can have taken it,' said the mounted officer. - - 'By God, a standard!... Look! look!' said the other, panting, - and he walked away from the telescope: 'A French standard on the - Maláhof!' - -The point from which the officer in the story, and Tolstoy himself in -reality, watched the assault through a telescope is the spot marked 'a' -on the map on page 112. - -The loss of the Maláhof rendered the further defence of the town -impossible, and the following night the Russians blew up and destroyed -such munitions of war as they could not remove from the bastions. -Tolstoy was deputed to clear the Fifth and Sixth Bastions before they -were abandoned to the Allies. When telling me this he added, 'The -non-commissioned officers could have done the work just as well without -me.' While the destruction was proceeding, the Russian forces crossed -the Roadstead by a pontoon bridge which had been constructed during the -siege. The town south of the Roadstead was abandoned, and the defenders -established themselves on the North Side, where they remained till -peace was concluded in February 1856. - -After the retreat, Tolstoy was given the task of collating the twenty -or more reports of the action from the Artillery Commanders. This -experience of how war is recorded produced in him that supreme contempt -for detailed military histories which he so often expressed in later -years. He says: - - I regret that I did not keep a copy of those reports. They were - an excellent example of that naďve, inevitable kind of military - falsehood, out of which descriptions are compiled. I think many of - those comrades of mine who drew up those reports, will laugh on - reading these lines, remembering how, by order of their Commander, - they wrote what they could not know. - -Carrying among other despatches the report he had himself compiled, -Tolstoy was sent as Courier to Petersburg; and this terminated his -personal experience of war. He was still only Sub-Lieutenant, his hopes -of promotion had come to nothing in consequence of a suspicion that -he was the author of some soldiers' songs which were sung throughout -the army at this time. No translation can do justice to these slangy, -topical satires; but that the reader may have some idea of them, my -wife has put into English the following stanzas: - - In September, the eighth day,[22] - From the French we ran away, - For our Faith and Tsar! - For our Faith and Tsar! - - Admiral Alexander,[23] he - Sank our vessels in the sea - In the waters deep, - In the waters deep. - - 'Luck to all I wish,' he said then. - To Baktchiseráy[24] he sped then; - 'May you all be blowed! - 'May you all be blowed!' - - Saint Arnaud[25] got out of sight; - And in manner most polite, - Came round to our back, - Came round to our back. - - And on Tuesday, I'm afraid - Had no saint come to our aid, - He'd have bagged us all, - He'd have bagged us all. - - Our Liprandi, it is true - Captured 'trenchments not a few, - But to no avail! - But to no avail! - - Out of Kishinéf a force - Was expected: Foot and Horse, - And at last they came, - And at last they came. - - Dannenberg was in command: - Strictly told to understand - Not to spare his men, - Not to spare his men. - - * * * * * - - Two Grand Dukes a visit paid: - But the French, quite undismayed, - Blazed away with shells, - Blazed away with shells. - - Some ten thousand men were shot: - From the Tsar _they_ never got - Any great reward! - Any great reward! - - Then the Prince[26] in anger spoke: - 'Oh! our men are wretched folk: - 'Why, they've turned their backs! - 'Why, they've turned their backs!' - - And in this great battle's flare - Heroes only two there were: - The two Royal Dukes! - The two Royal Dukes! - - George's Crosses they were given - And to Petersburg were driven - To be fęted there! - To be fęted there! - - All the priests with heads bent down - Prayed our God the French to drown, - And there came a storm, - And there came a storm! - - There arose a dreadful gale, - But the French just shortened sail, - And remained afloat! - And remained afloat! - - Winter came. Sorties we made; - Many soldiers low were laid, - Near those bags of sand, - Near those bags of sand.[27] - - For re'nforcements Ménshik prayed; - But the Tsar sent to his aid - Only Osten-Sáken, - Only Osten-Sáken.[28] - - Ménshik, Admiral so wise, - To the Tsar writes and replies: - 'Oh, dear Father Tsar, - 'Oh, dear Father Tsar. - - 'Sáken is not worth a grain, - And your Royal youngsters twain[29] - They're no good at all! - They're no good at all!' - - Royal wrath on Ménshik fell, - And the Tsar felt quite unwell - At the next review, - At the next review. - - Straight to heaven he did fare - (Seems they wanted him up there) - Not a whit too soon, - Not a whit too soon! - - As on his deathbed he lay; - To his son[30] he this did say: - 'Now just you look out, - 'Now just you look out!' - - And the son to Ménshik wrote: - 'My dear Admiral, please note, - You may go to hell, - You may go to hell!' - - 'And in place of you I'll name - Gortchakóf, you know, the same - Who fought 'gainst the Turks! - Who fought 'gainst the Turks!' - - 'With few troops he'll go ahead, - And a pair of breeches red - Shall be his reward, - Shall be his reward!' - - [22] The Battle of Alma, fought on 8th September, old style = - 20th September, new style. - - [23] Prince Alexander Ménshikof, who was Commander-in-Chief - in the Crimea till replaced by Gortchakóf. Besides being - diplomatist and General, he was also an Admiral. In the other - verses he is nicknamed 'Ménshik.' - - [24] After the Battle of Alma, Ménshikof retreated northward - to Baktchiseráy, almost abandoning Sevastopol. - - [25] Saint Arnaud, the French Commander-in-Chief. - - [26] Prince Alexander Ménshikof. - - [27] Bags of sand were used as temporary protection from - behind which to fire. - - [28] Count Osten-Sáken was sent to advise Ménshikof and to - report to the Tsar on his operations. - - [29] The Grand Dukes alluded to above. - - [30] Alexander II, who succeeded Nicholas I on 2nd March - (n.s.) 1855. - -As a matter of fact the responsibility for these songs, which gave -satirical expression to the discontent then very generally felt, was -not entirely Tolstoy's. They originated with a group of officers on -the staff of Kryzhanóvsky, Commander of the Artillery, and some others -(including Tolstoy) who used to meet at Kryzhanóvsky's rooms almost -daily. One of this company used to preside at the piano, while the -others stood round and improvised couplets. In such cases some one has -usually to pay the piper, and that this one should have been Tolstoy, -was a natural result both of the fact that he seems to have been the -chief culprit, and of the attention his literary work was attracting at -this time. - -Another matter which appears to have done Tolstoy no good in the eyes -of his superiors, was his refusal to fall in with a reprehensible -practice which by long usage had become as well established as, for -instance, among ourselves, is the purchase of peerages by contributions -to Party funds. - -Those in command of various divisions of the army, including the -Commanders of Batteries, used to pay for various things, such as shoes -for the horses, medicine, office expenses, and certain extras for the -soldiers, for which no official allowance was made; and the way the -money for this was obtained was by overestimating the cost and quantity -of stores, and of the fodder required for the horses. The difference -between the actual and estimated cost supplied a revenue which -different Commanders used in different ways. Some spent it all for the -good of the service, though in a manner not shown in the accounts; -others did not scruple to make private profit of it. Tolstoy, during -his command of a battery, refused to take a balance of cash which had -accumulated, and insisted on showing it in the accounts. He thereby -evoked the displeasure of less scrupulous Commanders and called down -upon himself a rebuke from General Kryzhanóvsky, who did not consider -that it lay with a Sub-Lieutenant in temporary command, to attempt to -upset so well-established a custom. From his letters and memoirs we get -clear indications of Tolstoy's feelings towards his brother officers; -his distaste for the common run of them, and his preference for those -who were gentlemanly. Here and there, in memoirs and magazine articles, -one finds records of the impression he in his turn produced on his -companions. One of them relates: - - How Tolstoy woke us all up in those hard times of war, with his - stories and his hastily composed couplets! He was really the soul - of our battery. When he was with us we did not notice how time - flew, and there was no end to the general gaiety.... When the Count - was away, when he trotted off to Simferópol, we all hung our heads. - He would vanish for one, two or three days.... At last he would - return--the very picture of a prodigal son! sombre, worn out, and - dissatisfied with himself.... Then he would take me aside, quite - apart, and would begin his confessions. He would tell me all: how - he had caroused, gambled, and where he had spent his days and - nights; and all the time, if you will believe me, he would condemn - himself and suffer as though he were a real criminal. He was so - distressed that it was pitiful to see him. That's the sort of man - he was. In a word, a queer fellow, and, to tell the truth, one I - could not quite understand. He was however a rare comrade, a most - honourable fellow, and a man one can never forget! - -One who entered the battery just after Tolstoy left it, says he was -remembered there as an excellent rider, first-rate company, and an -athlete who, lying on the floor, could let a man weighing thirteen -stone be placed on his hands, and could lift him up by straightening -his arms. At a tug-of-war (played not with a rope, but with a stick) -no one could beat him; and he left behind him the recollection of many -witty anecdotes told in that masterly style of which he never lost the -knack. - -His private Diary bears witness to the constantly renewed struggle that -went on within him, as well as to his profound dissatisfaction with -himself. Here, for instance, is an estimate entered in his Diary at the -commencement of the war, while he was still at Silistria: - - I have no modesty. That is my great defect. What am I? One of four - sons of a retired lieutenant-colonel, left at seven years of age - an orphan under the guardianship of women and strangers; having - neither a social nor a scholarly education, and becoming my own - master at seventeen; with no large means, no social position, - and, above all, without principle; a man who has disorganised - his own affairs to the last extremity, and has passed the best - years of his life without aim or pleasure; and finally who having - banished himself to the Caucasus to escape his debts and more - especially his bad habits--and having there availed himself of some - connection that had existed between his father and the general - in command--passed to the army of the Danube at twenty-six, as - a Sub-Lieutenant almost without means except his pay (for what - means he has he ought to employ to pay what he still owes) without - influential friends, ignorant of how to live in society, ignorant - of the service, lacking practical capacity, but with immense - self-esteem--such is my social position. Let us see what I myself - am like. - - I am ugly, awkward, uncleanly, and lack society education. I - am irritable, a bore to others, not modest, intolerant, and as - shame-faced as a child. I am almost an ignoramus. What I do know, - I have learned anyhow, by myself, in snatches, without sequence, - without a plan, and it amounts to very little. I am incontinent, - undecided, inconstant and stupidly vain and vehement, like all - characterless people. I am not brave. I am not methodical in life, - and am so lazy that idleness has become an almost unconquerable - habit of mine. - - I am clever, but my cleverness has as yet not been thoroughly - tested on anything; I have neither practical nor social nor - business ability. - - I am honest, that is to say, I love goodness, and have formed a - habit of loving it, and when I swerve from it I am dissatisfied - with myself and return to it gladly; but there is a thing I love - more than goodness, and that is fame. I am so ambitious, and so - little has this feeling been gratified, that should I have to - choose between fame and goodness, I fear I may often choose the - former. - - Yes, I am not modest, and therefore I am proud at heart, though - shame-faced and shy in society. - -That is a grossly unfair estimate of himself, but shows just that sort -of eager injustice to any one who fails to reach the high standard he -sets up, that has always characterised him. His account is inaccurate -in details. For instance, he was not seven, but nearly nine when his -father died. He had not wrecked his affairs to the extent he suggests. -Though his studies had been desultory, he had read widely, with a -quick understanding and a retentive memory. He was master of the -Russian, French and German languages, besides having some knowledge of -English, Latin, Arabic, and Turco-Tartar. (Later in life he added a -knowledge of Italian, Greek and Hebrew.) As for not yet having tested -his cleverness: he had published stories for which the editor of the -best Russian magazine paid him the rate accorded to the best-known -writers; while his awkwardness in society did not depend on ignorance; -on the contrary, he had grown up among people who paid much attention -to manners, and he was himself gifted with social tact, which became -plainly apparent as soon as he attained self-confidence. Any defect in -his manners must have been merely a result of that nervous shyness -natural to highly-strung, sensitive natures, conscious of powers of -a kind society recognises but scantily. Yet, when all is said, his -description gets home: over-emphatic and unfair, like much of his other -writing, it still leaves you in no doubt as to what he meant, and hits -the real points of weakness in the victim he is flaying. - -On 5th March 1855 (old style) when he was just recovering from that -fit of depression at Belbék which, as already mentioned, drove him to -gamble, he writes in his Diary: - - A conversation about Divinity and Faith has suggested to me a - great, a stupendous idea, to the realisation of which I feel - myself capable of devoting my life. This idea is the founding of - a new religion corresponding to the present state of mankind: the - religion of Christianity, but purged of dogmas and mysticism: a - practical religion, not promising future bliss, but giving bliss on - earth. I understand that to accomplish this the conscious labour of - generations will be needed. One generation will bequeath the idea - to the next, and some day fanaticism or reason will accomplish it. - _Deliberately_ to promote the union of mankind by religion--that is - the basic thought which, I hope, will dominate me. - -In that passage one has, quite clearly stated before he was -twenty-seven, the main idea which actuated Tolstoy from the age of -fifty onwards. Already by the literary work he accomplished amid the -bustle and excitement of the siege, he was half consciously moving in -the direction that allured him. During the three months that elapsed -between leaving Bucharest and reaching Sevastopol, he wrote part of -_The Wood-Felling_; a sketch of an expedition such as he had taken part -in the Caucasus; and during the siege of Sevastopol he wrote the first -two parts of _Sevastopol_ and began _Youth_, a sequel to _Childhood_ -and _Boyhood_. - - -1855 - -It was _Sevastopol_ that first brought European fame to Tolstoy. When, -as already mentioned, _Sevastopol in December_ appeared in the June -_Contemporary_, the Emperor ordered it to be translated into French. -That same month Tolstoy completed and despatched _The Wood-Felling_; -in July he sent off _Sevastopol in May_. Here once again the Censor -exercised his malignant power, and Panáef wrote to Tolstoy from -Petersburg: - - In my letter delivered to you by Stolýpin, I wrote that your - article has been passed by the Censor with unimportant alterations, - and begged you not to be angry with me that I was obliged to add - a few words at the end to soften.... 3000 copies of the article - had already been printed off, when the Censor suddenly demanded - it back, stopped the appearance of the number (so that our August - number only appeared in Petersburg on 18 August) and submitted - it to Poúshkin, President of the Committee of Censors. If you - know Poúshkin, you will be able partly to guess what followed. He - flew into a rage, was very angry with the Censor, and with me for - submitting such an article to the Censor, and altered it with his - own hand.... On seeing these alterations I was horror-struck, and - wished not to print the article at all, but Poúshkin explained to - me that I must print it in its present shape. There was no help for - it, and your mutilated article will appear in the September number, - but without your initials--which I could not bear to see attached - to it after that.... - - Now a word as to the impression your story produces on all to whom - I have read it in its original form. Every one thinks it stronger - than the first part, in its deep and delicate analysis of the - emotions and feelings of people constantly face to face with death, - and in the fidelity with which the types of the line-officers are - caught, their encounters with the aristocrats, and the mutual - relations of the two sets. In short, all is excellent, all is drawn - in masterly fashion; but it is all so overspread with bitterness, - is so keen, so venomous, so unsparing and so cheerless, that at the - present moment when the scene of the story is almost sacred ground, - it pains those who are at a distance from it; and the story may - even produce a very unpleasant impression. - - _The Wood-Felling_, with its dedication to Tourgénef, will also - appear in September (Tourgénef begs me to thank you very, very - much for thinking of him and paying him this attention).... In - this story also (which passed three Censors: the Caucasian, the - Military, and our Civil Censor) the types of officers have been - tampered with, and unfortunately a little has been struck out. - -Tolstoy's dedication of _The Wood-Felling_ to Tourgénef proceeded -from his admiration for that writer's _A Sportsman's Sketches_, which -to the present time he continues to value very highly, considering -Tourgénef's descriptions of Nature in that book not merely excellent, -but inimitable by any one else. - -Nekrásof wrote to Tolstoy in September, about _Sevastopol in August_, -saying: - - The revolting mutilation of your article quite upset me. Even - now I cannot think of it without regret and rage. Your work - will, of course, not be lost ... it will always remain as proof - of a strength able to utter such profound and sober truth under - circumstances amid which few men would have retained it. It is - just what Russian society now needs: the truth--the truth, of - which, since Gógol's death, so little has remained in Russian - literature. You are right to value that side of your gifts most - of all. Truth--in such form as you have introduced it into our - literature--is something completely new among us. I do not know - another writer of to-day who so compels the reader to love him - and sympathise heartily with him, as he to whom I now write; and - I only fear lest time, the nastiness of life, and the deafness - and dumbness that surround us, should do to you what it has done - to most of us, and kill the energy without which there can be - no writer--none, at least, such as Russia needs. You are young: - changes are taking place which, let us hope, may end well, and - perhaps a wide field lies before you. You are beginning in a way - that compels the most cautious to let their expectations travel - far.... - - _The Wood-Felling_ has passed the Censor pretty fairly, though from - it also some valuable touches have disappeared. ...In that sketch - there are many astonishingly acute remarks, and it is all _new_, - interesting, and to the point. Do not neglect such sketches. Of - the common soldier our literature has as yet not spoken, except - frivolously. - -Tourgénef, writing from his estate at Spássky to Panáef, said: - - Tolstoy's article about Sevastopol is wonderful! Tears came into my - eyes as I read it, and I shouted, Hurrah! I am greatly flattered by - his wish to dedicate his new tale to me.... Here his article has - produced a general furore. - -By the side of these contemporary estimates one may set Kropótkin's -appreciation written fifty years later: - - All his powers of observation and war-psychology, all his deep - comprehension of the Russian soldier, and especially of the plain - un-theatrical hero who really wins the battles, and a profound - understanding of that inner spirit of an army upon which depend - success and failure: everything, in short, which developed into - the beauty and the truthfulness of _War and Peace_, was already - manifested in these sketches, which undoubtedly represented a new - departure in war-literature the world over. - -It is worth while to note the very different conclusions to which -Kinglake, the historian of this war, and Tolstoy, its novelist, -arrived. Kinglake holds the war to have been unnecessary, and -attributes it chiefly to the unscrupulous ambition of Napoleon III; -yet he blames the Peace Party very severely for protesting against -it, for had they not done so Nicholas, he thinks, would not have -dared to act aggressively. Kinglake feels that negotiations between -rulers and diplomatists are important, and that anything that prevents -a Government from speaking with authority, makes for confusion and -disaster. - -Tolstoy, on the other hand (if I may anticipate and speak of -conclusions not definitely expressed by him till much later), regards -all war and preparation for war as immoral, and wishes this conviction -to become so strong and so general that it will be impossible for any -future Napoleon to plunge five nations into war to gratify his own -ambition. - -Kinglake understands things as they are, and knows how easy it is to do -harm with good intentions, but is somewhat blind to the trend of human -progress, and as to what the aim before us should be. Tolstoy, on the -contrary, is chiefly concerned about the ultimate aim, and about the -state of mind of the individual. The actual working of our political -system and international relations are things he ignores. The English -writer sees clearly what is, and cares little about what should be; the -Russian writer cares immensely about what should be, and rather forgets -that it can only be approached by slow and difficult steps, to take -which surefootedly, needs an appreciation of things as they are. - -Neither of them manages to say the word which would synthesize their -divergent views: namely, that no self-respecting people should support -or tolerate as rulers, men who seek to gain national advantages by -means not strictly fair, honest and even generous. That is the real key -to the world's future peace. Kinglake's appeal to us not to hamper the -government that represents us, and Tolstoy's appeal to us not to spend -our lives in preparing to slay our fellow men, can both be met in that -way, and, I think, in that way alone. - -For an ambitious young officer actually engaged in a war, related to -the Commander-in-Chief, and favourably noticed by the Emperor, even -_partially_ to express disapproval of war, was difficult; and Tolstoy -has told me that, contending with his desire to tell the truth about -things as he saw it, he was at the same time aware of another feeling -prompting him to say what was expected of him. - -He, however, like the child in Andersen's story who sees that the -king has nothing on, when every one else is in ecstasies over the -magnificence of the monarch's robes, had the gift of seeing things -with his own eyes, as well as a great gift of truthfulness. These were -the qualities which ultimately made him the greatest literary power -of his century; and in spite of his own hesitation and the Censor's -mutilations, we may still read the description he then wrote of the -truce in which the French and Russian soldiers hobnobbed together in -friendship, a description closing with these words: - - White flags are on the bastions and parallels; the flowery valley - is covered with corpses; the beautiful sun is sinking towards the - blue sea; and the undulating blue sea glitters in the golden rays - of the sun. Thousands of people crowd together, look at, speak to, - and smile at one another. And these people--Christians confessing - the one great law of love and self-sacrifice--seeing what they have - done, do not at once fall repentant on their knees before Him who - has given them life and laid in the soul of each a fear of death - and a love of goodness and of beauty, and do not embrace like - brothers with tears of joy and happiness. - - The white flags are lowered, again the engines of death and - suffering are sounding, again innocent blood flows, and the air is - filled with moans and curses. - -In _Sevastopol_, and in Tennyson's _Charge of the Light Brigade_ (with -its rhymes about 'hundred' and 'thundered,' and its panegyric of those -who knew it was not their business to think, and at whom 'all the -world wondered'), we have two typical expressions of conflicting views -on war: the view of a man who knew it from the classics and was Poet -Laureate, and the view of a man who was in the thick of it, and whose -eyes were connected with his brain. - -Thirty-four years later Tolstoy wrote a Preface to a fellow-officer's -_Recollections of Sevastopol_. It could not pass the Censor, but has -been used as a Preface to his own sketches of war in the English -version of _Sevastopol_, translated by my wife and myself, and I cannot -conclude this chapter better than by quoting a few sentences from it. - -Speaking of the position of a young officer engaged in the Crimean war, -he says: - - To the first question that suggests itself to every one, Why did - he do it? Why did he not cease, and go away?--the author does not - reply. He does not say, as men said in olden times when they hated - their enemies as the Jews hated the Philistines, that he hated the - Allies; on the contrary, he here and there shows his sympathy for - them as for brother men. - - Nor does he speak of any passionate desire that the keys of the - Church at Jerusalem should be in our hands, or even that our fleet - should, or should not, exist. You feel as you read, that to him - the life and death of men are not commensurable with questions of - politics. And the reader feels that to the question: Why did the - author act as he did?--there is only one answer; It was because I - enlisted while still young, or before the war began, or because - owing to inexperience I chanced to slip into a position from which - I could not extricate myself without great effort. I was entrapped - into that position, and when they obliged me to do the most - unnatural actions in the world, to kill my brother men who had done - me no harm, I preferred to do this rather than to suffer punishment - and disgrace.... One feels that the author knows there is a law - of God: love thy neighbour, and therefore do not kill him,--a law - which cannot be repealed by any human artifice. - - The merit of the book consists in that. It is a pity it is only - felt, and not plainly and clearly expressed. Sufferings and deaths - are described; but we are not told what caused them. Thirty-five - years ago--even that was well, but now something more is needed. - We should be told what it is that causes soldiers to suffer and to - die,--that we may know, and understand, and destroy these causes. - - 'War! How terrible,' people say, 'is war, with its wounds, - bloodshed, and deaths! We must organise a Red Cross Society to - alleviate the wounds, sufferings and pains of death.' But, truly, - what is dreadful in war is not the wounds, sufferings and deaths. - The human race that has always suffered and died, should by this - time be accustomed to suffering and death, and should not be aghast - at them. Without war people die by famine, by inundations, and by - epidemics. It is not suffering and death that are terrible, but it - is that which allows people to inflict suffering and death.... - - It is not the suffering and mutilation and death of man's body that - most needs to be diminished,--but it is the mutilation and death of - his soul. Not the _Red_ Cross is needed, but the simple cross of - Christ to destroy falsehood and deception.... - - I was finishing this Preface when a cadet from the Military College - came to see me. He told me that he was troubled by religious - doubts.... He had read nothing of mine. I spoke cautiously to him - of how to read the Gospels so as to find in them the answers to - life's problems. He listened and agreed. Towards the end of our - conversation I mention wine, and advised him not to drink. He - replied: 'but in military service it is sometimes necessary.' I - thought he meant necessary for health and strength, and I intended - triumphantly to overthrow him by proofs from experience and - science, but he continued: 'Why, at Geok-Tepe, for instance, when - Skóbelef had to massacre the inhabitants, the soldiers did not wish - to do it, but he had drink served out and then....' Here are all - the horrors of war--they are in this lad with his fresh young face, - his little shoulder-straps (under which the ends of his hood are so - neatly tucked), his well-cleaned boots, his naďve eyes, and with so - perverted a conception of life. - - This is the real horror of war! - - What millions of Red Cross workers could heal the wounds that swarm - in that remark--the result of a whole system of education! - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER IV - -Birukof. - -Behrs. - -Bitovt. - -Nekrasof's letters to Tolstoy, _Niva_, February 1898. - -Also, Tolstoy's _Sevastopol_, and his - -Preface to Ershof's _Recollections of Sevastopol_. - -Kropotkin, _Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_: London, 1905. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - PETERSBURG; LOVE AFFAIR; DROUZHÍNIN - -Petersburg. Tourgénef. The _Contemporary_. Death of his brother -Demetrius. Drouzhínin. The Behrs. Love affairs. Engagement with V.V.A. -Illness. Leaves the army. Engagement broken off. Correspondence with -Tourgénef. Writings. Drouzhínin's criticism of _Youth_ and of Tolstoy's -style. Books that influenced him. Emancipation of serfs. Poúshkin. -Self-condemnation in his _Confession_. - - -A NUMBER of distinguished writers have recorded their opinions of the -talented young officer who appeared in Petersburg before the war was -quite over, and immediately entered the fraternity then supporting the -_Contemporary_. From their memoirs one sees what Tolstoy was like at -this, perhaps the stormiest and least satisfactory period of his life. - -The _Contemporary_ was a monthly review founded by Poúshkin and -Pletnéf in 1836. It passed in 1847 to Panáef and the poet Nekrásof, -and when Tolstoy began to write, was recognised as the leading and -most progressive Russian literary periodical. Its chief contributors -formed an intimate group, united by close personal acquaintance, by -sympathy with the Emancipation movement then making itself felt, and -also by a common agreement (not it is true very strictly or very -permanently observed) to write exclusively for the _Contemporary_. -The point to be noticed is that the circle Tolstoy entered consisted -of a friendly, sociable group of people who considered themselves -ardent reformers; and that though Tolstoy's talent and his wish to have -his works published, threw him and them together, he never appears -to have had the least inclination to co-operate on that footing of -mutual give-and-take toleration which is so essential in public -life. Certainly he never became friendly with the more advanced men, -Tchernyshévsky, Miháylof, and the ultra-democratic Dobrolúbof, who were -intent on spreading democratic and socialistic ideas in Russia. - -It has been suggested that this was due to the fact that he was an -aristocrat and that they were democrats; but one has to go deeper than -that for the explanation, which lies, to a considerable extent, in -the fact that the advanced Russian Radicals were, for the most part, -admirers of Governmental Jacobinism, whereas Tolstoy has from the very -start tended to be a No-Government man, an Anarchist, and has objected -to linking himself closely with any group, since such alliance always -implies some amount of compromise, and some subordination of one's own -opinions. - -The poet Fet, himself a young officer, made Tolstoy's acquaintance -at this time. A couple of years later he purchased an estate at no -very great distance from Yásnaya Polyána, and became a friend of -Tolstoy's--one in fact of the very few people, not of his own family, -with whom the latter ever formed a close personal friendship. - - -1855 - -His first acquaintance with Tolstoy was however hardly auspicious. -Calling on Tourgénef in St. Petersburg at ten o'clock one morning, he -saw an officer's sword hanging in the hall, and asked the man-servant -whose it was. 'It's Count Tolstoy's sword,' replied the man. 'He is -sleeping in the drawing-room. Iván Sergéyevitch [Tourgénef] is having -breakfast in the study.' During Fet's visit of an hour's duration, he -and his host had to converse in low tones for fear of waking Tolstoy. -'He is like this all the time,' said Tourgénef. 'He came back from -his Sevastopol battery; put up here, and is going the pace. Sprees, -gipsy-girls and cards all night long--and then he sleeps like a corpse -till two in the afternoon. At first I tried to put the break on, but -now I've given it up, and let him do as he likes.' - -Fet tells us that as soon as he met Tolstoy he noticed his instinctive -defiance of all accepted opinions; and at Nekrásof's lodgings, the -first time he saw Tolstoy and Tourgénef together, he witnessed the -desperation to which the former reduced the latter by his biting -retorts. - - 'I can't admit,' said Tolstoy, 'that what you say expresses your - convictions. If I stand at the door with a dagger or a sword, - and say, "While I am alive no one shall enter here," that shows - conviction. But you, here, try to conceal the true inwardness of - your thoughts from one another, and call _that_ conviction!' - - 'Why do you come here?' squeaked Tourgénef, panting, his voice - rising to a falsetto (as always happened when he was disputing). - 'Your banner is not here! Go! Go to the salon of Princess B----!' - - 'Why should I ask you, where I am to go? Besides, empty talk won't - become conviction, merely because I am, or am not here,' replied - Tolstoy. - -Though he cared little for politics, Fet's sympathies inclined to the -Conservative side, and he found himself in accord with Tolstoy rather -than with Tourgénef and the other Contemporarians; but Fet's stay in -Petersburg at this time was a short one, and he therefore saw little -of Tolstoy. D. V. Grigoróvitch, the novelist, however, reported to him -another scene which also occurred at Nekrásof's lodging. - - You can't imagine what it was like! Great Heavens! said - Grigoróvitch. Tourgénef squeaked and squeaked, holding his hand to - his throat, and with the eyes of a dying gazelle whispered: 'I can - stand no more! I have bronchitis!' and began walking to and fro - through the three rooms.--'Bronchitis is an imaginary illness,' - growls Tolstoy after him: 'Bronchitis is a metal!' - - Of course Nekrásof's heart sank: he feared to lose either of these - valuable contributors to the _Contemporary_. We were all agitated, - and at our wits' end to know what to say. Tolstoy, in the middle - room, lay sulking on the morocco sofa; while Tourgénef, spreading - the tails of his short coat and with his hands in his pockets, - strode to and fro through the three rooms. To avert a catastrophe, - I went to the sofa and said, 'Tolstoy, old chap, don't get excited! - You don't know how he esteems and loves you!' - - 'I won't allow him to do anything to spite me!' exclaimed Tolstoy - with dilated nostrils. 'There! Now he keeps marching past me on - purpose, wagging his democratic haunches!' - -The rest of the evidence is of much the same nature. Of desire to -agree, there was hardly a trace in Tolstoy, who never doubted his own -sincerity and seldom credited that quality to others. The aristocratic -influences that surrounded his upbringing never induced him to be -lenient to men of his own class, such as Tourgénef; but they led him -to judge harshly and unsympathetically new men who were pushing their -way to the front by their own ability. Fet, in his _Mémoires_, speaks -with regret of the fact that the educated classes ('the Intelligents') -attracted by Liberal ideas which made for the Emancipation of the -serfs, formed so strong a current of opinion that even the literature -produced by the nobility (and he claims that the nobles supplied all -the truly artistic literature) advocated changes which struck at the -root of the most fundamental privileges of their class. This tendency, -he tells us, revolted 'Tolstoy's fresh, unwarped instinct.' - -Grigoróvitch, in his _Literary Memoirs_, tells us that, knowing how -out of sympathy Tolstoy was with Petersburg, and how evident it was -that everything in Petersburg irritated him, he was surprised to find -that the latter took permanent lodgings there. Grigoróvitch, himself -a Contemporarian, had met Tolstoy in Moscow, and coming across him -again in Petersburg, and hearing that he was invited to dine with the -staff of the _Contemporary_, but did not yet know any of the members -intimately, agreed to accompany him. - - On the way I warned him to be on his guard about certain matters, - and especially to avoid attacking George Sand, whom he much - disliked, but who was devoutly worshipped by many Contemporarians. - The dinner passed off all right, Tolstoy being rather quiet at - first, but at last he broke out. Some one praised George Sand's - new novel, and he abruptly declared his hatred of her, adding that - the heroines of the novels she was then writing, if they really - existed, ought to be tied to the hangman's cart and driven through - the streets of Petersburg. He had, adds Grigoróvitch, already then - developed that peculiar view of women and of the woman-question, - which he afterwards expressed so vividly in _Anna Karénina_. - -With all the curious convolutions of Tolstoy's character, there is -a remarkable tenacity of conviction running through his whole life, -and a remark in _Resurrection_, written nearly half a century later, -throws a flood of light on the fact of his so detesting George Sand's -emancipated heroines while he was himself living a loose life. In -that book, the hero has been attracted as well as repelled first by -Mariette, the General's wife, and then by a handsome demi-mondaine he -passes in the street, and this is his reflection: - - The animalism of the brute nature in man is disgusting, thought he; - but as long as it remains in its naked form we observe it from the - height of our spiritual life and despise it; and, _whether one has - fallen or resisted_, one remains what one was before. But when that - same animalism hides under a cloak of poetry and esthetic feeling, - and demands our worship--then we are swallowed up by it completely, - and worship animalism, no longer distinguishing good from evil. - Then it is awful! - -[Illustration: PROMINENT RUSSIAN WRITERS, (1856): TOURGÉNEF, SOLOGOÚB, -TOLSTOY, NEKRÁSOF, GRIGÓRYEF, PANÁEF.] - -Grigoróvitch in another place speaks of Tolstoy's 'readiness to -contradict.' It did not matter what opinion was being expressed; and -the more authoritative the speaker appeared to be, the more eager was -Tolstoy to oppose him and to begin a verbal duel. 'Watching how he -listened to the speaker and pierced him with his eyes, and noticing -how ironically he pressed his lips together, one conjectured that he -was preparing not a direct reply, but such an expression of opinion as -would perplex his opponent by its unexpectedness.' - -Danílevsky, the novelist, confirms this impression of Tolstoy's -eagerness to oppose. They met at the house of a well-known sculptor. -Tolstoy entered the drawing-room while a new work of Herzen's was -being read aloud, and quietly took up a position behind the reader's -chair. When the reading was over, he began, at first gently and with -restraint, then hotly and boldly, to attack Herzen and the enthusiasm -then current for his revolutionary and emancipatory works; and he spoke -so convincingly and with such sincerity, that Danílevsky says he never -afterwards saw one of Herzen's publications in that house. - -Tourgénef once said: 'In Tolstoy the character which afterwards lay -at the base of his whole outlook on life early made itself manifest. -He never believed in people's sincerity. Every spiritual movement -seemed to him false, and he used to pierce those on whom his suspicion -fell with his extraordinarily penetrating eyes'; and Tourgénef went -on to say that personally he had never encountered anything more -disconcerting than that inquisitorial look, which, accompanied by two -or three biting words, was enough to goad to fury any man who lacked -strong self control. - -The different sides of men's characters do not always advance -simultaneously or harmoniously; and it frequently happens that those -awakening to a sense of public duty remain self-indulgent in respect to -wine or women, while others become abstainers or respectable husbands -while remaining oblivious of the political duties they owe to the -community. Among the reformers whose acquaintance Tolstoy made in -Petersburg, there was unfortunately a great deal of gluttony, drinking, -gambling and loose living, and Tolstoy--though he was often remorseful -and repentant about his own excesses with wine, women, and cards--with -his innate propensity for demanding _all or nothing_, bitterly resented -this in others. He would no doubt have considered it hypocritical had -he himself come forward as a reformer before obtaining mastery over his -own appetites, and he judged others by the same standard. - -The ill success of the Crimean war had dealt a blow to the prestige of -the Tsardom, and a series of wide-reaching reforms were being prepared -at this time--among which the most important were the abolition of -serfdom, the reform of civil and criminal law, the introduction -of trial by jury and of oral proceedings in the law courts, the -establishment of a system of Local Government somewhat resembling -our County Councils, and some relaxation of the insensate severity -of the press censorship. But though Tolstoy reached Petersburg at a -moment when Russia was entering on this hopeful and fruitful period of -internal reform, neither in his published writings nor in any private -utterance we know of, does he express much sympathy with those reforms, -or show any perception of the advantage that accrues to a nation whose -inhabitants interest themselves in public affairs. He never realised -that even if a people make for themselves bad laws, the very fact -of being invited to think about large practical matters, and being -allowed to test their own conclusions in practice, fosters a habit of -not fearing to think and to act in accord with one's thought; and that -this habit of applying thought to the guidance of practical affairs, -overflows into a nation's commerce and industry and agriculture, and -ultimately causes the difference between the comparative material -security of our Western world and the chronic fear of famine that -oppresses many Eastern lands. - -But complex problems of public policy--which are always difficult, and -call for patience, tolerant co-operation, and a willingness to accept -half-loaves when whole ones are unobtainable--never were to Tolstoy's -taste. He hankers after simple, clear-cut solutions, such as are -obtainable only subjectively, in the mind. - -A few years later than the time of which we are speaking, Tolstoy -commenced a novel called _The Decembrists_, which begins with a -description of these reform years. The passage shows how scornfully he -regarded the whole movement for the liberation of the people and the -democratisation of their institutions. These are his words: - - This happened not long ago, in the reign of Alexander II, in our - times of civilisation, progress, _problems_, re-birth of Russia, - etc. etc.; the time when the victorious Russian army returned - from Sevastopol which it had surrendered to the enemy; when all - Russia was celebrating the destruction of the Black Sea fleet; and - white-walled Moscow greeted, and congratulated on that auspicious - event, the remainder of the crews of that fleet, offering them - a good old Russian goblet of vódka, and in the good old Russian - way bringing them bread and salt and bowing at their feet. This - was the time when Russia, in the person of her far-sighted virgin - politicians, wept over the destruction of her dream of a Te Deum - in the Cathedral of St. Sophia, and the deep-felt loss to the - fatherland of two great men who had perished during the war (one - who, carried away by impatience to hear the Te Deum referred to - above, had fallen on the fields of Wallachia, not without leaving - there two squadrons of Hussars; and the other an invaluable man - who distributed tea, other people's money, and sheets, to the - wounded without stealing any of them); in that time when from all - sides, in all departments of human activity in Russia, great men - sprang up like mushrooms: commanders, administrators, economists, - writers, orators, and simply great men without any special calling - or aim; in that time when at the Jubilee of a Moscow actor, public - opinion, fortified by a toast, appeared and began to punish all - wrongdoers; when stern Commissioners galloped from Petersburg to - the South and captured, exposed, and punished the commissariat - rascals; when in all the towns dinners with toasts were given to - the heroes of Sevastopol, and to those of them whose arms and legs - had been torn off, coppers were given by those who met them on the - bridges or highways; at that time when oratorical talents were so - rapidly developed among the people that one publican everywhere and - on all occasions wrote, printed, and repeated by heart at dinners, - such powerful speeches that the guardians of order were obliged to - undertake repressive measures to subdue his eloquence; when even - in the English Club in Moscow a special room was set apart for the - consideration of public affairs; when periodicals appeared under - the most varied banners; journals developing European principles - on a European basis but with a Russian world-conception, and - journals on an exclusively Russian basis, developing Russian - principles but with a European world-conception; when suddenly, so - many journals appeared that it seemed as if all possible titles - had been used up: 'The Messenger,' 'The Word,' 'The Discourse,' - 'The Eagle,' and many others; when nevertheless fresh titles - presented themselves continually; at that time when pleiades of new - author-philosophers appeared, proving that Science is national and - is not national and is international, and so on: and pleiades of - writer-artists, who described woods and sun-rises, and thunders, - and the love of a Russian maiden, and the idleness of one official, - and the misconduct of many officials; at that time when from all - sides appeared problems (as in the year '56 every concourse of - circumstances was called of which nobody could make head or tail); - the problem of the Cadet Schools, the Universities, the Censor, - oral tribunals, finance, the banks, the police, the Emancipation, - and many others; everybody still tried to discover new questions, - and everybody tried to solve them; they wrote, and read, and - talked, and drew up projects, and all wished to amend, destroy - and alter, and all Russians, as one man, were in an indescribable - state of enthusiasm. That was a condition which has occurred twice - in Russia in the nineteenth century: the first time was in the - year '12 when we thrashed Napoleon I, and the second time was in - '56 when Napoleon III thrashed us. Great, unforgettable epoch of - the re-birth of the Russian people! Like the Frenchman who said - that he had not lived at all who had not lived during the Great - French Revolution, so I make bold to say that he who did not live - in Russia in '56, does not know what life is. The writer of these - lines not merely lived at that time, but was one of the workers of - that period. Not merely did he personally sit for some weeks in - one of the casemates of Sevastopol, but he wrote a work about the - Crimean War which brought him great fame, and in which he clearly - and minutely described how the soldiers in the bastion fired off - their muskets, how in the hospitals people were bound up with - bandages, and how in the cemetery they were buried in the earth. - - Having performed these exploits, the writer of these lines arrived - at the heart of the Empire, at a rocket-station, where he reaped - his laurels. He witnessed the enthusiasm of both capitals and of - the whole people, and experienced in his own person how Russia - can reward real service. The great ones of the earth sought his - acquaintance, pressed his hands, offered him dinners, persistently - invited him to come and see them, and in order to hear from him - particulars about the war, narrated to him their own sensations. - Therefore the writer of these lines knows how to appreciate that - great and memorable time. But that is not what I want to tell about. - -The very day he reached Petersburg from Sevastopol, in September 1855, -Tolstoy called on Tourgénef, who pressed him to stay with him and -introduced him to all that was most interesting in Petersburg literary -and artistic circles, watching over his interests 'like an old nurse,' -as Tourgénef himself once expressed it. Tourgénef fully appreciated -Tolstoy's artistic genius, but was strangely blind to the specially -Tolstoyan side of Tolstoy's complex nature. As we have already seen, -friction soon arose between the two men, and though they again and -again made friends, their friendship was very unstable and easily -upset. - - -1856 - -Early in 1856 Tolstoy's third brother, Demetrius, died in Orél. His -history has been told in Chapter II. Tolstoy says: 'I was particularly -horrid at that time. I went to Orél from Petersburg, where I frequented -society and was filled with conceit. I felt sorry for Mítenka, but not -very sorry. I paid him a hurried visit, but did not stay at Orél, and -my brother died a few days after I left.' On 2nd February the news -reached Leo; but he says: 'I really believe that what hurt me most, was -that it prevented my taking part in some private theatricals then being -got up at Court, and to which I had been invited.' - -In March the war ended, and Tolstoy obtained furlough. On 25th March he -wrote to his brother Sergius: - - I want to go abroad for eight months, and if they give me leave - I shall do so. I wrote to Nikólenka about it, and asked him to - come too. If we could all three arrange to go together it would - be first-rate. If each of us took Rs. 1000, we could do the trip - capitally. - - Please write and tell me how you like _The Snow Storm_. I am - dissatisfied with it--seriously. But I now want to write many - things, only I positively have no time in this damned Petersburg. - Anyway, whether they let me go abroad or not, I intend to take - furlough in April and come to the country. - -On 13th May he was still in Petersburg, and we find him noting in his -Diary: - - The powerful means to true happiness in life, is to let flow from - oneself on all sides, without any laws, like a spider, a cobweb - of love, and to catch in it all that comes to hand: women old or - young, children, or policemen. - -Among his literary acquaintances at this time the one for whom he -seems to have felt most sympathy and respect was Drouzhínin, a critic, -writer of stories, and translator of Shakespear. Before long we find -Drouzhínin leading a revolt against the _Contemporary_ and attracting -some of the contributors to the _Reading Library_, a rival magazine, to -which Tolstoy contributed an article in December 1856. - -It was not till the end of May that he got away from Petersburg; and -on his road home he stopped in Moscow and visited the family of Dr. -Behrs, a Russian of German origin, who had married Miss Islényef. The -first mention one gets of Tolstoy's future wife is a note in his Diary -relating to this visit to the Behrs's country house near Moscow. He -says: 'The children served us. What dear, merry little girls! Little -more than six years later, the second of these 'merry little girls' was -Countess Tolstoy! - -Three days later he writes to his brother Sergius: 'I spent ten days -in Moscow ... very pleasantly, without champagne or gipsies, but a -little in love--I will tell you later on with whom.' The object of his -affection at that time was of course not Dr. Behrs's twelve-year-old -daughter. - -From Yásnaya he made a round of visits to see his married sister and -other neighbours; among them Tourgénef, at whose house a gathering of -the Tolstoys took place. Special honour was paid to Leo, who comically -posed as the hero of a Triumph. He was being crowned and almost covered -with flowers, leaves, grass, and anything that came handy, when the -approach of an unwelcome guest--a lady neighbour of Tourgénef's--was -announced. Thereupon the host seized his head in despair; the -triumpher, with a howl, began to turn rapid catherine-wheel somersaults -through the rooms; and his sister's husband was quickly bandaged up as -an invalid, to be used as an excuse and a protection from the unwelcome -intruder. - -The letter to Sergius, quoted above, contains an allusion to Tolstoy's -first serious matrimonial project. - -He had in childhood been much attached to a certain Sónitchka -Kalóshina. While at the University, he had had a sentimental love -affair with a certain Z. M., who seems hardly to have been aware of -his devotion. Then there was the Cossack damsel who figures in _The -Cossacks_, and subsequently he much admired a society lady, Madame -Sch., who may also have been scarcely aware of his feelings, for -Tolstoy was shy and timid in these matters--which were quite different -from his affairs with gipsy girls and other hireable women. - -The present affair with V. V. A. was more serious than any of its -predecessors. It led to a long correspondence, and even to their -engagement being announced among relations and friends. The lady was -the good-looking daughter of a landowner in the neighbourhood of -Yásnaya Polyána. - -In August she accompanied her family to Moscow for the Coronation -of Alexander II. At these festivities she enjoyed herself greatly, -and described her feelings in a letter which dealt the first blow to -Tolstoy's admiration. He at once assumed towards her the rôle which -more than twenty-five years later he assumed towards mankind in -general, and upbraided her with the insignificant and unworthy nature -of her interests and enjoyments, besides indulging in scathing sarcasms -about the fashionable circles with which she was so enraptured. - -The young lady did not reply. Tolstoy then begged pardon--which was -granted. - -Meanwhile he had fallen ill; and early in September he wrote to his -brother Sergius: - - Only now, at nine o'clock on Monday evening, can I give you a - satisfactory reply, for till now things went worse and worse. Two - doctors were sent for, and administered another forty leeches, - but only now have I had a good sleep and, on waking up, feel - considerably better. All the same, there can be no question of my - leaving home for five or six days yet. So _au revoir_; please let - me know when you go (shooting) and whether it is true that your - farming has been seriously neglected; and do not kill all the game - without me. I will send the dogs, perhaps, to-morrow. - -He recovered. The young lady returned to her family's estate at -Soudakóva, and his visits being renewed, Tolstoy's intimacy with her -continued and grew closer. - -Yet to 'test himself,' he started for a visit to Petersburg, and as -soon as he had got as far as Moscow, wrote a letter to the young lady -in which he dwelt on the importance of the mutual attraction of the -sexes, the serious nature of his and her relation to one another, and -the necessity of testing themselves by time and distance. - -While living in Petersburg, he learnt the particulars of a flirtation -the young lady had carried on at the time of the Coronation with -a French music-master, Mortier; and he wrote her a letter full -of reproaches. Instead of posting it, however, he wrote her -another--telling her of the one he had written, which he intended to -show her when they met. - -After once breaking off relations with Mortier, the young lady allowed -them to be again renewed, and what Tolstoy learned of the matter caused -him seriously to reconsider his position. For some time his feelings -evidently wavered. The very day after posting his remonstrance, he -wrote another letter in a conciliatory tone, and though no reply -came, he assumed that all was well, and continued the correspondence -by sending her a detailed plan of the life they might hope to live -together: its surroundings, circle of acquaintance, and the arrangement -of their time. He also tried to interest her in the most serious -problems of life. - -No answer reaching him for a long time, he became agitated and -perplexed. Then several letters, delayed in the post, arrived all at -once, and cordial intercourse was re-established between the lovers. -But though the engagement and correspondence continued, and expressions -of affection were interchanged, it gradually became more and more -evident that there was something artificial and unsatisfactory in their -relation to one another. - -Meanwhile Tolstoy was having other difficulties in Petersburg. On 10th -November 1856 he writes to his brother Sergius: - - Forgive me, dear friend Seryózha, for only writing two words--I - have no time for more. I have been most unlucky since I left home; - there is no one here I like. It seems that I have been abused in - the _Fatherland Journal_ for my war stories--I have not yet read - the attack; but the worst is that Konstantínof [the General under - whose command was the battery to which Tolstoy was attached] - informed me as soon as I got here that the Grand Duke Michael, - having learnt that I am supposed to have composed the Soldiers' - Song, is displeased, particularly at my having (as rumour says) - taught it to the soldiers. This is abominable. I have had an - explanation with the Head of the Staff. The only satisfactory thing - is that my health is good, and that (Dr.) Schipoulínsky says my - lungs are thoroughly sound. - -On 20th November 1856 Tolstoy left the army, in which he had never -secured promotion though he had private influence enough to enable him, -about this time, to save from trial by Court Martial the Commander of -the battery in which he had served in the Crimea. - -Early in December he left Petersburg for Moscow. From there, on 5th -December, he writes to Aunt Tatiána: - - When I first went away and for a week after, I thought I was 'in - love' as it is called; but with an imagination such as mine that - was not difficult. - - Now, however, especially since I have set to work diligently, I - should like--and very much like--to be able to say that I am in - love, or even that I love her; but it is not the case. The only - feeling I have for her is gratitude for her love of me, and the - thought that of all the girls I have known or know, she would have - made me the best wife, as I understand family life. And that is - what I should like to have your candid opinion about. Am I mistaken - or not? I should like to hear your advice because, in the first - place, you know both her and me; and chiefly because you love me, - and those who love are never wrong. It is true that I have tested - myself very badly, for from the time I left home I have led a - solitary rather than a dissipated life, and have seen few women; - but notwithstanding that, I have had many moments of vexation with - myself for having become connected with her, and I have repented - of it. All the same, I repeat that if I were convinced that she is - of a steadfast nature, and would love me always--even though not - as now, yet more than any one else--then I should not hesitate for - a moment about marrying her. I am confident that then my love of - her would increase more and more and that through that feeling she - would become a good woman. - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY IN 1856, THE YEAR HE LEFT THE ARMY.] - -The young lady in question visited Petersburg for part of the winter -season, but Tolstoy does not appear to have met her there, being -himself away in Moscow for several weeks. The correspondence was -largely didactic on his side, and was so unsatisfactory to the young -lady that she finally forbade him to write again. He disobeyed the -injunction, asking her pardon, telling her he was going abroad, and -begging that she would write to him once more, to an address in Paris. - -He wrote to Aunt Tatiána from Moscow, on 12th January 1857, a letter in -which Russian and French alternate. - - [31]CHČRE TANTE!--J'ai reçu mon passeport pour l'étranger et je - suis venu ŕ Moscou pour y passer quelques jours avec Marie arranger - mes affaires et prendre congé de vous. - - But now I have reconsidered the matter, especially on Máshenka's - advice, and have decided to remain with her here a week or two - and then to go straight through Warsaw to Paris. You no doubt - understand, _chčre tante_, why I do not wish and why it is not - right for me to come now to Yásnaya, or rather to Soudakóva. I, it - seems, have acted very badly in relation to V., but were I to see - her now, I should behave still worse. As I wrote you, I am more - than indifferent to her, and feel that I can no longer deceive - either her or myself. But were I to come, I might perhaps, from - weakness of character, again delude myself. - - Vous rappelez-vous, chčre tante, comme vous vous ętes moquée de - moi, quand je vous ai dit que je partais pour Pétersbourg 'pour - m'éprouver,' et cependant c'est ŕ cette idée que je suis redevable - de n'avoir pas fait le malheur de la jeune personne et le mien, - car ne croyez pas que ce soit de l'inconstance ou de l'infidélité; - personne ne m'a plu pendant ces deux mois, mais tout bonnement j'ai - vu que je me trompais moi-męme; que non seulement jamais je n'ai - eu, mais jamais je n'aurais pour V. le moindre sentiment d'amour - véritable. La seule chose qui me fait beaucoup de peine c'est que - j'ai fait du tort ŕ la demoiselle et que je ne pourrai prendre - congé de vous avant de partir.... - - [31] DEAR AUNT,--I have received my passport for abroad, and I - have come to Moscow to pass some days with Mary, and to take - leave of you. (See sentences in English in letter above.) - - But now I have reconsidered the matter, especially on - Máshenka's advice, and have decided to remain with her here a - week or two and then to go straight through Warsaw to Paris. - You no doubt understand, _chčre tante_, why I do not wish and - why it is not right for me to come now to Yásnaya, or rather - to Soudakóva. I, it seems, have acted very badly in relation - to V., but were I to see her now, I should behave still worse. - As I wrote you, I am more than indifferent to her, and feel - that I can no longer deceive either her or myself. But were I - to come, I might perhaps, from weakness of character, again - delude myself. - - Do you remember, dear Aunt, how you made fun of me when I - told you I was going to Petersburg 'to test myself'? Yet it - is that idea that has saved me from bringing misery on the - young lady and on myself; for do not suppose that it is a case - of inconstancy or unfaithfulness. No one has taken my fancy - during these two months, but simply I have come to see that - I was deceiving myself, and that I not only never had, but - never shall have, the least feeling of true love for V. V. A. - The only things which give me much pain are that I have hurt - the young lady, and that I cannot take leave of you before my - departure.... - -After reaching Paris (an event belonging properly to the next chapter) -he received a last communication from V. V. A. and wrote her a friendly -letter in reply, speaking of his love as of something past, thanking -her for her friendship, and wishing her every happiness. - -His Aunt Tatiána--generally the mildest of critics where he was -concerned--appears to have blamed him for his conduct; and the friends -of V. V. A., including a French governess, Mlle. Vergani, did so yet -more severely. In one of his letters, which contains indications of an -agitation too strong to allow him to complete the construction of the -opening sentence, he says: - - [32]Si Mlle. V. qui m'a écrit une lettre aussi ridicule, voulait - se rappeler toute ma conduite vis-ŕ-vis de V. V. A., comment je - tâchais de venir le plus rarement possible, comment c'est elle qui - m'engageait ŕ venir plus souvent et ŕ entrer dans des relations - plus proches. Je comprends qu'elle soit fâchée de ce qu'une chose - qu'elle a beaucoup désirée ne s'est pas faite (j'en suis fâché - peut-ętre plus qu'elle) mais ce n'est pas une raison pour dire ŕ un - homme qui s'est efforcé d'agir le mieux possible, qui a fait des - sacrifices de peur de faire le malheur des autres, de lui dire, - qu'il est un _pig_ [this one word is in Russian in the original] et - de le faire accroire ŕ tout le monde. Je suis sűr que Toúla [the - town nearest his estate] est convaincu que je suis le plus grand - des monstres. - - [32] If Mlle. Vergani, who has written me so absurd a letter, - would remember my whole conduct towards V. V. A., how I tried - to come as seldom as possible, and how it was she who induced - me to come more frequently and to enter into closer relations. - I understand her being vexed that an affair she much desired - has not come off (I perhaps am more vexed about it than she) - but that is no reason for her to tell a man who has tried to - act as well as he could, and who has made sacrifices in order - not to make others unhappy, that he is a pig, and to spread - that report about. I am sure all Toúla is convinced that I am - the greatest of monsters.... - -Turning from love to literature and friendship, we have two letters of -this period from Tourgénef. The first is dated Paris, 16th November -1856, and is as follows: - - DEAREST TOLSTOY,--Your letter of 15 October took a whole month - crawling to me--I received it only yesterday. I have thought - carefully about what you write me--and I think you are wrong. It - is true I cannot be quite sincere, because I can't be quite frank, - with you. I think we got to know each other awkwardly and at a bad - time, and when we meet again it will be much easier and smoother. - I feel that I love you as a man (as an author it needs no saying); - but much in you is trying to me, and ultimately I found it better - to keep at a distance from you. When we meet we will again try - to go hand in hand--perhaps we shall succeed better; for strange - as it may sound, my heart turns to you when at a distance, as to - a brother: I even feel tenderly towards you. In a word, I love - you--that is certain; perchance from that, in time, all good will - follow. I heard of your illness and grieved; but now, I beg you, - drive the thought of it out of your head. For you too have your - fancies, and are perhaps thinking of consumption--but, God knows, - you have nothing of the sort.... - - You have finished the first part of _Youth_--that is capital. How - sorry I am to be unable to hear it read! If you do not go astray - (which I think there is no reason to anticipate) you will go very - far. I wish you good health, activity--and freedom, spiritual - freedom. - - As to my _Faust_, I do not think it will please you very much. My - things could please you and perhaps have some influence on you, - only until you became independent. Now you have no need to study - me; you see only the difference of our manners, the mistakes and - the omissions; what you have to do is to study man, your own - heart, and the really great writers. I am a writer of a transition - period--and am of use only to men in a transition state. So - farewell, and be well. Write to me. - -On 8th December 1856 he writes again: - - DEAR TOLSTOY,--Yesterday my good genius led me past the - post-office, and it occurred to me to ask if there were any letters - for me at the _poste-restante_ (though I think that all my friends - ought long ago to have learnt my Paris address) and I found your - letter, in which you speak of my _Faust_. You can well imagine how - glad I was to read it. Your sympathy gladdened me truly and deeply. - Yes, and from the whole letter there breathes a mild, clear and - friendly peacefulness. It remains for me to hold out my hand across - the 'ravine' which has long since become a hardly perceptible - crack, about which we will speak no more--it is not worth it. - - I fear to speak of one thing you mention: it is a delicate - matter,--words may blight such things before they are ripe, but - when they are ripe a hammer will not break them. God grant that all - may turn out favourably and well. It may bring you that spiritual - repose which you lacked when I knew you. - - You have, I see, now become very intimate with Drouzhínin--and are - under his influence. That is right, only take care not to swallow - too much of him. When I was your age, only men of enthusiastic - natures influenced me; but you are built differently, and perhaps - also the times are changed.... Let me know in which numbers of the - _Contemporary_ your _Youth_ will appear; and by the way, let me - know the final impression made on you by _Lear_, which you probably - have read, if only for Drouzhínin's sake. - -About the same time Tourgénef wrote to Drouzhínin: - - I hear that you have become very intimate with Tolstoy--and he has - become very pleasant and serene. I am very glad. When that new wine - has finished fermenting, it will yield a drink fit for the Gods. - What about his _Youth_, which was sent for your verdict? - -The allusion to Drouzhínin's translation of _King Lear_ is worth -noticing because fully fifty years later it was this play that Tolstoy -selected for hostile analysis in his famous attack on Shakespear. -One gathers from a letter written by V. P. Bótkin, that Drouzhínin's -rendering impressed Tolstoy favourably at the time. - -Before quoting Drouzhínin's criticism of _Youth_, it will be in place -to mention other works by Tolstoy, not yet enumerated, which appeared -at this period. _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_, giving a glimpse of -temptations Tolstoy had experienced, was published in January 1855, -while he was in Sevastopol. In January 1856 came _Sevastopol in -August_. In March 1856 appeared _The Snow Storm_. In May 1856 came a -rollicking tale, with flashes of humour like that of Charles Lever, -entitled _Two Hussars_. It is the only story Tolstoy ever wrote in -that vein; and in it are introduced gipsy singers such as those of -whom repeated mention occurs in his letters. In December, before he -went abroad, two more tales were published: one of these, entitled -_Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment_, containing a -scathing portrayal of the cowardice a man, who had passed muster in -'good society,' displayed when circumstances put him to the test. The -other story, _A Squire's Morning_, is closely drawn from Tolstoy's -own experience when on first leaving the University he settled on -his estate and attempted to better the condition of his serfs. Their -stolidity, their distrust, and the immense difficulty of introducing -any changes, are all brought out. - -In a letter to Drouzhínin, Tourgénef wrote: - - I have read his _Squire's Morning_, which pleased me exceedingly - by its sincerity and almost complete freedom of outlook. I say - 'almost' because in the way he set himself the task, there still - is hidden (without his perhaps being aware of it) a certain - amount of prejudice. The chief moral impression produced by the - story (leaving the artistic impression aside) is that so long - as the state of serfdom exists, there is no possibility of the - two sides drawing together, despite the most disinterested and - honourable desire to do so; and this impression is good and true. - But beside it, like a horse cantering beside a trotter, there is - another: namely, that in general to try to enlighten or improve the - condition of the peasants leads to nothing; and this impression is - unpleasant. But the mastery of language, the way it is told, and - his character-drawing, are grand. - - -1857 - -In January 1857 appeared _Youth_, the continuation of _Childhood_ and -_Boyhood_. - -How great Drouzhínin's influence was with Tolstoy at this time, may be -judged by the tone of his letter to him, giving an opinion on _Youth_. -He writes: - - About _Youth_ one ought to write twenty pages. I read it with - anger, with yells and with oaths--not on account of its literary - quality, but because of the quality of the notebooks in which - it is written, and the handwritings. The mixing of two hands, - a known and an unknown, diverted my attention and hindered an - intelligent perusal. It was as though two voices shouted in my ear - and purposely distracted my attention, and I know that this has - prevented my receiving an adequate impression. All the same I will - say what I can. Your task was a terrible one, and you have executed - it very well. No other writer of our day could have so seized and - sketched the agitated and disorderly period of youth. To those who - are developed, your _Youth_ will furnish an immense pleasure; and - if any one tells you it is inferior to _Childhood_ and _Boyhood_ - you may spit in his physiognomy. There is a world of poetry in - it--all the first chapters are admirable; only the introduction is - dry till one reaches the description of spring.... In many chapters - one scents the poetic charm of old Moscow, which no one has yet - reproduced properly. Some chapters are dry and long: for instance - all the stipulations with Dmítry Nehlúdof.... The conscription of - Semyónof will not pass the Censor. - - Do not fear your reflections, they are all clever and original. But - you have an inclination to a super-refinement of analysis which may - become a great defect. You are sometimes on the point of saying - that so-and-so's thigh indicated that he wished to travel in India. - You must restrain this tendency, but do not extinguish it on any - account. All your work on your analyses should be of the same kind. - Each of your defects has its share of strength and beauty, and - almost every one of your qualities carries with it the seed of a - defect. - - Your style quite accords with that conclusion: you are most - ungrammatical, sometimes with the lack of grammar of a reformer - and powerful poet reshaping a language his own way and for ever, - but sometimes with the lack of grammar of an officer sitting in a - casemate and writing to his chum. One can say with assurance that - all the pages you have written with love are admirable,--but as - soon as you grow cold, your words become entangled, and diabolical - forms of speech appear. Therefore the parts written coldly should - be revised and corrected. I tried to straighten out some bits, but - gave it up; it is a work which only you can and must do. Above - all, avoid long sentences. Cut them up into two or three; do not - be sparing of full-stops.... Do not stand on ceremony with the - particles, and strike out by dozens the words: _which_, _who_, and - _that_. When in difficulties, take a sentence and imagine that you - want to say it to some one in a most conversational way. - -As a translator I may testify that Tolstoy never fully learned the -lesson Drouzhínin here set him, and that to the very last he continued -occasionally to intermingle passages of extraordinary simplicity and -force with sentences that defy analysis and abound in redundances. - -Nearly fifty years later Tolstoy himself criticised the subject-matter -of _Childhood_, _Boyhood_, and _Youth_ as follows: - - I have re-read them and regret that I wrote them; so ill, - artificially and insincerely are they penned. It could not be - otherwise: first, because what I aimed at was not to write my own - history but that of the friends of my youth, and this produced - an awkward mixture of the facts of their and my own childhood; - and secondly, because at the time I wrote it I was far from - being independent in my way of expressing myself, being strongly - influenced by two writers: Sterne (his _Sentimental Journey_) and - Töpffer (his _Bibliothčque de Mon Oncle_). - - I am now specially dissatisfied with the two last parts. _Boyhood_ - and _Youth_, in which besides an awkward mixture of truth and - invention, there is also insincerity: a desire to put forward as - good and important what I did not then consider good and important, - namely, my democratic tendency. - -Before concluding this chapter it will be in place to give a list of -books Tolstoy mentions as having influenced him after he left the -University and before his marriage. They were: Goethe's _Hermann -und Dorothea_; Hugo's _Notre Dame de Paris_; Plato's _Phaedo_ and -_Symposium_ (in Cousin's French translation); and the _Iliad_ and -_Odyssey_ in Russian versions. All these, he says, had a 'very great' -influence on him, while the poems of his compatriots, Tútchef, Kóltsof, -and his friend Fet, had 'great' influence. - -He tells us that artistic talent in literature influenced him more than -any political or social tendency; and this is quite in accord both with -his highly artistic nature and with his general apathy towards public -affairs. There was a Slavophil theory (built to justify things as they -were) which proclaimed it natural for a Slavonic people to leave the -task of governing to its rulers, while retaining its intellectual -freedom to disapprove of what was done amiss; and though Tolstoy never -joined the Slavophils, this has been very much his own attitude on the -matter. - -Even in early childhood he had appreciated some of Poúshkin's poems, -such as _To the Sea_ and _To Napoleon_, and had learned them by heart -and recited them with feeling; but curiously enough it was the perusal -of Mérimée's French prose translation of Poúshkin's _Gipsies_ that, -after he was grown up, aroused Tolstoy's keen admiration of Poúshkin's -mastery of clear, simple, direct language. Later in life Tolstoy used -to say that Poúshkin's prose stories, such as _The Captain's Daughter_, -are his best works; but he never lost his appreciation of Poúshkin's -power of expression in verse. In his Diary (4th January 1857) he wrote: - - I dined at Bótkin's with Panáef alone; he read me Poúshkin; I went - into Bótkin's study and wrote a letter to Tourgénef, and then I - sat down on the sofa and wept causeless but blissful tears. I am - positively happy all this time, intoxicated with the rapidity of my - moral progress. - -Despite his headstrong outbursts and many vacillations, he seems to -have been always a welcome guest in almost any society he cared to -frequent, and none of his critics has spoken as harshly of him as he -speaks of himself when describing these - - terrible twenty years of coarse dissipation, the service of - ambition, vanity, and above all of lust.... It is true that not - all my life was so terribly bad as this twenty-year period from - fourteen to thirty-four; and it is true that even that period of my - life was not the continuous evil that during a recent illness it - appeared to me to be. Even during those years, strivings towards - goodness awoke in me, though they did not last long, and were soon - choked by passions nothing could restrain. - -In his _Confession_, written more than twenty years later, when -speaking of his religious beliefs at this time, Tolstoy tells us: - - With all my soul I wished to be good; but I was young, passionate, - and alone, completely alone when I sought goodness. Every time I - tried to express my most sincere desire, namely, to be morally - good, I met with contempt and ridicule; but as soon as I yielded to - nasty passions I was praised and encouraged. - - Ambition, love of power, covetousness, lasciviousness, pride, anger - and revenge--were all respected.... I cannot think of those years - without horror, loathing and heartache. I killed men in war, and - challenged men to duels in order to kill them; I lost at cards, - consumed the labour of the peasants, sentenced them to punishments, - lived loosely and deceived people. Lying, robbery, adultery of all - kinds, drunkenness, violence, murder--there was no crime I did not - commit, and people approved of my conduct, and my contemporaries - considered and consider me to be a comparatively moral man. - - So I lived for ten years. - - During that time I began to write from vanity, covetousness and - pride. In my writings I did the same as in my life. To get fame and - money, for the sake of which I wrote, it was necessary to hide the - good and to show the evil. And I did so. How often in my writings - did I contrive to hide under the guise of indifference or even - of banter, those strivings of mine towards goodness, which gave - meaning to my life! And I succeeded in this, and was praised. - - At twenty-six years of age[33] I returned to Petersburg after the - war, and met the writers. They received me as one of themselves and - flattered me. And before I had time to look round I had adopted - the class views on life of the authors I had come among, and these - views completely obliterated all my former strivings to improve. - Those views furnished a theory which justified the dissoluteness - of my life. The view of life of these people, my comrades in - authorship, consisted in this: that life in general goes on - developing, and in this development we--men of thought--have - the chief part; and among men of thought it is we--artists and - poets--who have the chief influence. Our vocation is to teach - mankind. And lest the simple question should suggest itself: What - do I know, and what can I teach? it is explained in this theory - that this need not be known, and that the artist and poet teach - unconsciously. I was considered an admirable artist and poet, and - therefore it was very natural for me to adopt this theory. I, - artist and poet, wrote and taught, without myself knowing what. For - this I was paid money; I had excellent food, lodging, women and - society; and I had fame, which showed that what I taught was very - good. - - [33] Tolstoy makes a slip here: he was over twenty-seven. - - This faith in the meaning of poetry and in the development of life, - was a religion, and I was one of its priests. To be its priest was - very pleasant and profitable. And I lived a considerable time in - this faith without doubting its validity. But in the second, and - especially in the third year of this life, I began to doubt the - infallibility of this religion and to examine it. My first cause of - doubt was that I began to notice that the priests of this religion - were not all in accord among themselves. Some said: We are the best - and most useful teachers; we teach what is wanted, but the others - teach wrongly. Others said: No! we are the real teachers, and you - teach wrongly. And they disputed, quarrelled, abused one another, - cheated, and tricked one another. There were also many among them - who did not care who was right and who was wrong, but were simply - bent on attaining their covetous aims by means of this activity of - ours. All this obliged me to doubt the validity of our creed. - - Moreover, having begun to doubt the truth of the authors' creed - itself, I also began to observe its priests more attentively, and - I became convinced that almost all the priests of that religion, - the writers, were immoral, and for the most part men of bad, - worthless character, much inferior to those whom I had met in my - former dissipated and military life; but they were self-confident - and self-assured as only those can be who are quite holy or who do - not know what holiness is. These people revolted me, and I became - revolting to myself, and I realised that that faith is a fraud. - - But strange to say, though I understood this fraud and renounced - it, yet I did not renounce the rank these people gave me: the rank - of artist, poet, and teacher. I naďvely imagined that I was a poet - and artist and could teach everybody without myself knowing what I - was teaching, and I acted on that assumption. - - From my intimacy with these men I acquired a new vice: abnormally - developed pride, and an insane assurance that it was my vocation to - teach men, without knowing what. - - To remember that time, and my own state of mind and that of - those men (though there are thousands like them to-day) is sad - and terrible and ludicrous, and arouses exactly the feeling one - experiences in a lunatic asylum. - - We were all then convinced that it was necessary for us to speak, - write, and print as quickly as possible and as much as possible, - and that it was all wanted for the good of humanity. And thousands - of us, contradicting and abusing one another, all printed and - wrote--teaching others. And without remarking that we knew nothing, - and that to the simplest of life's questions: What is good and what - is evil? we did not know how to reply, we all, not listening to one - another, talked at the same time, sometimes backing and praising - one another in order to be backed and praised in turn, sometimes - getting angry with one another--just as in a lunatic asylum. - - Thousands of workmen laboured to the extreme limit of their - strength day and night setting the type and printing millions of - words which the post carried all over Russia, and we still went on - teaching and could nohow find time to teach enough, and were always - angry that sufficient attention was not paid to us. - - It was terribly strange, but is now quite comprehensible. Our - real innermost consideration was, that we wanted to get as much - money and praise as possible. To gain this end we could do nothing - except write books and papers. So we did that. But in order to do - such useless work and feel assured that we were very important - people, we required a theory justifying our activity. And so among - us this theory was devised: 'All that exists develops. And it - all develops by means of Culture. And Culture is measured by the - circulation of books and newspapers. And we are paid money and are - respected because we write books and newspapers, and therefore we - are the most useful and the best of men.' This theory would have - been all very well if we had been unanimous, but as every thought - expressed by one of us was always met by a diametrically opposed - thought expressed by some one else, we ought to have been driven to - reflection. But we ignored this; people paid us money, and those on - our side praised us; so each one of us considered himself justified. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER V - -Birukof. - -Behrs. - -A. Fet (Shenshin): _Moi Vospominaniya_, Moscow, 1890. These -_Recollections_ contain much authentic information about Tolstoy, as -well as a large number of his letters to Fet, which I have quoted in -subsequent chapters. - -Bitovt. - -Golovatcheva-Panaeva, _Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty_: Petersburg, 1890. - -D. V. Grigorovitch, _Literatourniya Vospominaniya_: vol. xii. p. 326. - -G. P. Danilevsky, _Istoritcheskii Vestnik_: March 1886. - -P. A. Sergeyenko, _Tourgenef i Tolstoy_: _Niva_, No. 6, 1906. - -Tolstoy's _Confession_. - -See also, in Tolstoy's works. _The Decembrists_, chap. i. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - TRAVELS ABROAD - -Paris. Relations with Tourgénef. _Albert._ An execution. Switzerland. -_Lucerne._ Yásnaya again. The _Iliad_ and the Gospels. Moscow: -gymnastics. _Three Deaths._ Musical Society. Aunty Tatiána. -'Ufanizing.' Emancipation. Bear-hunting. Moscow Society of Lovers of -Russian Literature. Attitude towards Art in 1859. Tourgénef. Farming. -Fet. Drouzhínin. Nicholas's illness. Goes abroad again. Germany. -Educational studies. Auerbach. Nicholas dies. Life at Hyčres: children. -Italy. Marseilles. Paris. Paul de Kock. London. Herzen. Proudhon. -_Polikoúshka._ Auerbach again. Returns home. - - -1857 - -SINCE he took part in the Turkish war in 1854, Tolstoy has only -twice been out of Russia. The first time was at the period we have -now reached. On 10th February 1857 (new style) he left Moscow by -post-chaise for Warsaw, from whence a railway already ran westward. He -reached Paris on 21st February. There he met Tourgénef and Nekrásof, -with the former of whom he was still unable to get on smoothly. -Tourgénef writes: 'With Tolstoy I still cannot become quite intimate; -we see things too differently'; and in some moment of anger Tolstoy -even challenged his fellow-writer to a duel.[34] Nekrásof appears to -have patched matters up, and in March Tolstoy and Tourgénef went to -Dijon together, and spent some days there. During this trip Tolstoy -commenced his story _Albert_, founded on his experience with the -talented but drunken musician Rudolf, already mentioned in Chapter III. -After he had returned to Paris, he was present at an execution, and -made the following jotting in his Diary: - - [34] See Golovátcheva-Panáeva's _Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty_. - - I rose at seven o'clock and drove to see an execution. A stout, - white, healthy neck and breast: he kissed the Gospels, and - then--Death. How senseless.... I have not received this strong - impression for naught. I am not a man of politics. Morals and art I - know, love, and can (deal with). The guillotine long prevented my - sleeping and obliged me to reflect. - -Tolstoy has a gift of telling the essential truth in few words, and -never did he sum himself up better than in the sentences, 'I am not a -man of politics. Morals and art I know, love, and can.' There is hardly -any possible room for doubt about the second sentence, and there is -certainly none about the first, as his whole life shows. - -Many years later, he wrote of this event in his _Confession_: - - When I saw the head separate from the body, and how they both - thumped into the box at the same moment, I understood, not with my - mind but with my whole being, that no theory of the reasonableness - of our present progress can justify this deed; and that though - everybody from the creation of the world, on whatever theory, had - held it to be necessary, I know it to be unnecessary and bad; and - therefore the arbiter of what is good and evil is not what people - say and do, and is not progress, but is my heart and I. - -It was probably during this visit to Paris that Tolstoy witnessed -and admired Chevet's popularisation of music by an easy system of -instruction, of which he says: - - I have seen hundreds of horny-handed working men sitting on benches - (under which lay the tool-bags they brought from their work) - singing at sight, and understanding and being interested in the - laws of music. - -This experience he utilised later on in his school at Yásnaya. - -In spring he went to Switzerland, and from Geneva he wrote to his Aunt -Tatiána: - - [35]J'ai passé un mois et demi ŕ Paris, et si agréablement que - tous les jours je me suis dit, que j'ai bien fait de venir ŕ - l'étranger. Je suis trčs peu allé ni dans la société, ni dans le - monde littéraire, ni dans le monde des cafés et des bals publics, - mais malgré cela j'ai trouvé ici tant de choses nouvelles et - intéressantes pour moi, que tous les jours, en me couchant, je me - dis, quel dommage que la journée est passée si vite; je n'ai męme - pas eu le temps de travailler, ce que je me proposais de faire. - - Le pauvre Turgenef est trčs malade physiquement et encore plus - moralement. Sa malheureuse liaison avec Madame Viardot, et sa - fille, le retiennent ici dans un climat qui lui est pernicieux et - il fait pitié de voir. Je n'aurais jamais cru qu'il put aimer ainsi. - - [35] I spent a month-and-a-half in Paris, and so agreeably - that every day I said to myself that I had done well to come - abroad. I went very little either into society or into the - literary world, or into the world of _cafés_ and public balls; - but in spite of that I found so many things that were new and - interesting to me, that every day on going to bed I said to - myself, 'What a pity the day has passed so quickly.' I have - not even had time to work, which I intended to do. - - Poor Tourgénef is very ill physically, and still more so - morally. His daughter, and especially his unfortunate - _liaison_ with Madame Viardot, keep him here in a climate - which is bad for him, and it makes one sad to see him. I - should never have believed that he could be so in love. - -Tolstoy's friends Drouzhínin and V. P. Bótkin visited Geneva at this -time, and they all three went on a walking tour into Piedmont together. -After that he settled at Clarens on the lake of Geneva, from whence he -again wrote to Aunt Tatiána: - - _18 Mai 1857._ - - [36]Je viens de recevoir votre lettre, chčre tante, qui m'a - trouvée comme vous devez le savoir d'aprčs ma derničre lettre, aux - environs de Genčve ŕ Clarens dans ce męme village, oů a demeuré - la Julia de Rousseau.... Je n'essaierai pas de vous depeindre la - beauté de ce pays, surtout ŕ présent, quand tout est en feuilles - et en fleurs; je vous dirai seulement, qu'ŕ la lettre il est - impossible de se détacher de ce lac et de ces rivages et que je - passe la plus grande partie de mon temps ŕ regarder et ŕ admirer en - me promenant, ou bien en me mettant seulement ŕ la fenętre de ma - chambre. - - Je ne cesse de me féliciter de l'idée que j'ai eu de quitter Paris - et de venir passer le printemps ici, quoique cela m'ait mérité de - votre part le reproche d'inconstance. Vraiment, je suis heureux, - and begin to feel the advantage of having been born with a caul. - - Il y a ici société charmante de russes: les Poúshkins, the - Karamzíns and the Mestchérskys; and they have all, Heaven knows - why, taken to liking me; I feel it, and the month I have spent here - I have been so nice and good and cosy, that I am sad at the thought - of leaving. - - [36] I have just received your letter, dear Aunt, which found - me, as you must know from my last letter, at Clarens, in the - neighbourhood of Geneva, in the same village where Rousseau's - Julie lived.... I will not try to depict the beauty of this - country, especially at present when all is in leaf and flower; - I will only say that it is literally impossible to detach - oneself from this lake and from these banks, and that I spend - most of my time gazing and admiring while I walk, or simply - sit at the window of my room. - - I do not cease congratulating myself on the thought which made - me leave Paris and come to pass the spring here, though I - have thereby deserved your reproach for inconstancy. Truly I - am happy, and begin to feel the advantage of having been born - with a caul. - - There is some charming Russian society here: les Poúshkins, - the Karamzíns and the Mestchérskys; and they have all, Heaven - knows why, taken to liking me; I feel it, and the month I have - spent here I have been so nice and good and cosy, that I am - sad at the thought of leaving. - -From Clarens he took steamer to Montreux, and from there went on foot, -taking with him as companion a ten-year-old lad named Sásha, the son of -some Russians whose acquaintance he had made at Clarens. They crossed -the Pass of Jamon and, after changing their minds as to the direction -they would take, finally made for Château d'Oex, from whence they -proceeded by _diligence_ to Thun. From that town Tolstoy went on to -Lucerne, which he reached in July 1857. - -Again and again in his Diary and letters Tolstoy's vivid delight in -Nature shows itself in descriptions of the scenery: 'It is wonderful,' -he writes, 'but I was at Clarens for two months, and every time--when -in the morning, and especially after dinner towards evening--I opened -the shutters on which the shadows were already falling, and glanced at -the lake and the distant blue of the mountains reflected in it, the -beauty blinded me and acted on me with the force of a surprise.' But -together with this keen appreciation, comes now and then a sort of -protest that this grandiose Swiss mountain scenery is, after all, not -the Nature that most appeals to him--a yearning for the vast steppes -and forests of his native land. After ascending the Pass of Jamon and -describing the magnificent scenery and the pleasure of the climb, he -adds: - - It was something beautiful, even unusually beautiful, but I do not - love what are called magnificent and remarkable views: they are, as - it were, cold.... I love Nature when, though it surrounds me on all - sides and extends unendingly, I am part of it. I love it, when on - all sides I am surrounded by hot air, and that same air rolls away - to unending distance, and those same sappy leaves of grass which I - crush as I sit on them, form the green of the boundless meadows; - when those same leaves which, fluttering in the wind, run their - shadows across my face, form also the dark blue of the distant - forests; while the same air one breathes makes the deep, light blue - of the immeasurable sky; when you do not exult and rejoice alone in - Nature, but when around you myriads of insects buzz and whirl, and - beetles, clinging together, creep about, and all around you birds - overflow with song. - - But this is bare, cold, desolate, grey plateau; and somewhere afar - there is something beautiful veiled with mist. But that something - is so distant that I do not feel the chief delight of Nature--do - not feel myself a part of that endless and beautiful distance: it - is foreign to me. - -From Lucerne he writes: - - [37]Je suis de nouveau tout seul, et je vous avouerai que trčs - souvent la solitude m'est pénible, car les connaissances qu'on fait - dans les hôtels et en chemin de fer ne sont pas des ressources; - mais cet isolement a du moins le bon côté de me pousser au travail. - Je travaille un peu, mais cela va mal, comme d'ordinaire en été. - - [37] I am again all alone, and I confess that very often the - solitude is painful to me, for the acquaintanceships one makes - in hotels and on the railways are not a resource. But there is - at least this much good in this loneliness--it prompts me to - work. I am working a little, but it goes badly, as usual in - summer. - -It was here that the incident occurred described in _Lucerne_, a sketch -published in the September number of the _Contemporary_ that same year, -and one which in its fierce castigation of the rich is a precursor of -much that he wrote thirty years later. Especially the conduct of the -wealthy English tourists roused his ire. The particular incident the -story deals with is this: - - On 7 July 1857, in Lucerne, in front of the Schweizerhof Hotel, - where the richest people stay, an itinerant mendicant-singer sang - songs and played his guitar for half-an-hour. About a hundred - people listened to him. Three times the singer asked them to give - him something, but not one of them did so, and many laughed at him. - - This is not fiction, but a positive fact, which any one who cares - may verify by asking the permanent inhabitants of the Schweizerhof, - and by looking up the newspaper lists of foreign visitors at the - Schweizerhof on 7 July. - - It is an event which the historians of our times should inscribe in - indelible letters of fire. - -In the story, Prince Nehlúdof, indignant at such treatment of a man who -was a real artist and whose songs all had enjoyed, brought the singer -into the hotel and treated him to a bottle of wine. He goes on to ask -himself: - - Which is more a man, and which more a barbarian: the lord who, on - seeing the singer's worn-out clothes, angrily left the table, and - for his service did not give him a millionth part of his property, - and who now sits satiated, in a well-lit, comfortable room, calmly - discussing the affairs of China and approving the murders that are - being committed there--or the little singer who with a franc in - his pocket, risking imprisonment, has tramped over hill and dale - for twenty years, harming no one but cheering many by his songs, - and whom they insulted to-day and all but turned out, leaving - him--weary, hungry and humiliated--to make his bed somewhere on - rotting straw? - -After passing a few weeks at Lucerne, Tolstoy returned to Russia _viâ_ -Stuttgart, Berlin, and Stettin, from which port he took steamer to -Petersburg, and after staying a week there to see Nekrásof and meet his -colleagues of the _Contemporary_, he went through Moscow to Yásnaya, -where he arrived in August. In his Diary we find this note: - - This is how, on my journey, I planned my future occupations: first, - literary work; next, family duties; then, estate management. - But the estate I must leave as far as possible to the steward, - softening him and making improvements, and spending only Rs. 2000 - a year [then equal to about Ł270], and using the rest for the - serfs. Above all, my stumbling-block is Liberal vanity. To live for - oneself and do a good deed a day, is sufficient. - -Further on he says: 'Self-sacrifice does not lie in saying "Take what -you like from me," but in labouring and thinking, and contriving how to -give oneself.' - -At this time he read (in translation) the _Iliad_ and the Gospels, -which both impressed him greatly. 'I have finished reading the -indescribably beautiful end of the _Iliad_,' he notes, and expresses -his regret that there is no connection between those two wonderful -works. - -In October he first accompanied his brother Nicholas and his sister -Mary to Moscow, and then spent a few days in Petersburg, where he found -that he had been forgotten by a world absorbed in the great measures of -public reform then in course of preparation. Here is a sentence from -his Diary: - - Petersburg at first mortified me and then put me right. My - reputation has fallen and hardly gives a squeak, and I felt much - hurt; but now I am tranquil. I know I have something to say and - strength to say it strongly; and the public may then say what it - will. But I must work conscientiously, exerting all my powers; then - ... let them spit upon the altar. - -By the end of October (old style) he was back in Moscow, established in -furnished apartments in the Pyátnitsky Street, with his sister and his -brother Nicholas. His friend Fet was also in Moscow at this time, and -in his _Recollections_ makes frequent mention of the Tolstoys. He tells -us that the Countess Mary (who was an exceedingly accomplished pianist) -used to come to his house for music in the evenings, accompanied -sometimes by both her brothers and sometimes by Nicholas alone, who -would say: - -'Lyóvotchka has again donned his evening clothes and white necktie, and -gone to a ball.' - -Tolstoy's elegance in dress was very noticeable at this period. We read -of the grey beaver collar of his overcoat, of a fashionable cane he -carried, and of the glossy hat he wore placed on one side, as well as -of his curly, dark-brown hair. - -Gymnastics were fashionable in Moscow in those days, and any one -wishing to find Tolstoy between one and two o'clock in the afternoon, -could do so at the Gymnasium on the Great Dmítrovka Street, where, -dressed in gymnastic attire, he might be seen intent on springing over -the vaulting-horse without upsetting a cone placed on its back. He -always was expert at physical exercises: a first-rate horseman, quick -at all games and sports, a swimmer, and an excellent skater. - -Among the visitors Fet met at Tolstoy's house we note the name of -Saltykóf, who under the pseudonym of Stchedrín is known as one of the -keenest and most powerful of Russia's satirists, and who during the -last seven years of the reign of Nicholas I had lived in banishment -in the far-off town of Vyátka. Another guest was B. N. Tchitchérin, -philosopher and jurist, and author of works on _Science and Religion_, -_Property and the State_, and other subjects Tolstoy dealt with three -or four decades later. Katkóf, editor of the _Moscow Gazette_ and -monthly _Russian Messenger_, was another acquaintance; and in his -magazine some of Tolstoy's chief works appeared. - - -1858 - -In January 1858 Tolstoy's aunt, who had been a friend of his boyhood, -the Countess Alexandra A. Tolstoy, Maid of Honour to the Grand Duchess -Márya Nikoláyevna, came to Moscow. Through this aunt (who lived to -a great age, and died only a few years ago) Tolstoy used to receive -information of what went on at Court, and was sometimes able indirectly -to exert influence 'in the highest circles.' When she returned to -Petersburg Tolstoy accompanied her as far as the town of Klin, on -the Nicholas railway, and took the opportunity to visit the Princess -Volkónsky (a cousin of his mother's), who had a small estate in those -parts. He remained some weeks with this affectionate old lady, who -told him much about his mother and her family, and he greatly enjoyed -his quiet stay with her. At her house he wrote _Three Deaths_, which -appeared the following January in _The Reading Library_. It is an -admirably written study of the deaths of a rich lady, a poor post-horse -driver, and a tree. - -In February he returned to Yásnaya Polyána; then again visited Moscow, -and in March spent a fortnight in Petersburg. His love of music -reasserted itself strongly at this period; and in conjunction with V. -P. Bótkin, Perfílief, Mortier (his late rival in love) and others, -he founded the Moscow Musical Society, which ultimately resulted in -the formation of the Moscow Conservatoire of which Nicholas Rubinstein -became Director. - -One of Tolstoy's most intimate acquaintances at this period was S. T. -Aksákof, author of stories and memoirs, lover of hunting and fishing, -and father of two famous sons, both prominent Slavophil leaders. - -The invigorating influence of spring shows itself in a letter Tolstoy -wrote about this time to his aunt, the Countess A. A. Tolstoy (whom he -calls 'Grandma'): - - GRANDMA!--Spring! - - For good people it is excellent to live in the world; and even - for such men as me, it is sometimes good. In Nature, in the - air, in everything, is hope, future--an attractive future.... - Sometimes one deceives oneself and thinks that happiness and a - future await not only Nature but oneself also, and then one feels - happy. I am now in such a state, and with characteristic egotism - hasten to write to you of things that interest only me. When I - review things sanely, I know very well that I am an old, frozen - little potato, and one already boiled with sauce; but spring so - acts on me that I sometimes catch myself in the full blaze of - imagining myself a plant which with others has only now blossomed, - and which will peacefully, simply and joyfully grow in God's - world. The result is that at this time of year, such an internal - clearing-out goes on in me, such a cleansing and ordering, as - only those who have experienced this feeling can imagine. All the - old--away! All worldly conventions, all idleness, all egotism, - all vices, all confused indefinite attachments, all regrets, even - repentances--away with you all!... Make room for the wonderful - little flowers whose buds are swelling and growing with the - spring!... - -After much more he concludes: - - Farewell, dear Grandma, do not be angry with me for this nonsense, - but answer with a word of wisdom, imbued with kindness, Christian - kindness! I have long wished to say that for you it is pleasanter - to write French, and I understand feminine thoughts better in - French. - -In April he was again at Yásnaya where, in spite of repeated visits to -Moscow, he spent most of the summer. There was at this time no railway -from Moscow southward to Toúla; and the serfs' belief concerning the -new telegraph posts which stood by the side of the highroad, was that -when the wire had been completed, 'Freedom' would be sent along it -from Petersburg. Even Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky did not understand -these new-fangled things, and, when driving along the road one day, -asked Tolstoy to explain how letters were written by telegraph. He told -her as simply as he could how the telegraphic apparatus works, and -received the reply: '_Oui, oui, je comprends, mon cher!_' How much she -had really understood was however shown half an hour later when, after -keeping her eye on the wire all that time, she inquired: 'But how is -it, _mon cher Léon_, that during a whole half-hour I have not seen a -single letter go along the telegraph?' - -Fet and his wife used to stay a day or two at Yásnaya when journeying -to and from Moscow, and Fet's account of Aunt Tatiána accords with -Tolstoy's own affectionate recollections of that lady. Fet says that -he and his wife 'made the acquaintance of Tolstoy's charming old aunt, -Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky, who received us with that old-world -affability which puts one at once at one's ease on entering a new -house. She did not devote herself to memories of times long past, but -lived fully in the present.' - -Speaking of them all by their pet names, she mentioned that -'Seryózhenka Tolstoy had gone to his home at Pirogóvo, but Nikólenka -would probably stay a bit longer in Moscow with Máshenka, but -Lyóvotchka's friend Dyákof had recently visited them,' and so on. - -Many years later, Tolstoy jotted down his memories of the long autumn -and winter evenings spent with Aunt Tatiána to which, he says, he -owed his best thoughts and impulses. He would sit in his arm-chair -reading, thinking, and occasionally listening to her kindly and gentle -conversation with two of the servants: Natálya Petróvna (an old woman -who lived there not because she was of much use, but because she had -nowhere else to live) and a maid Doúnetchka. - - The chief charm of that life lay in the absence of any material - care; in good relations with those nearest--relations no one could - spoil; and in the leisureliness and the unconsciousness of flying - time.... - - When, after living badly at a neighbour's in Toúla, with cards, - gipsies, hunting, and stupid vanity, I used to return home and - come to her, by old habit we would kiss each other's hand, I her - dear energetic hand, and she my dirty, vicious hand; and also by - old habit, we greeted one another in French, and I would joke with - Natálya Petróvna, and would sit down in the comfortable arm-chair. - She knew well all I had been doing and regretted it, but never - reproached me, retaining always the same gentleness and love.... - I was once telling her how some one's wife had gone away with - another man, and I said the husband ought to be glad to be rid - of her. And suddenly my aunt lifted her eyebrows and said, as a - thing long decided in her mind, that that would be wrong of the - husband, because it would completely ruin the wife. After that she - told me of a drama that had occurred among the serfs. Then she - re-read a letter from my sister Máshenka, whom she loved if not - more, at least as much as she loved me, and she spoke of Másha's - husband (her own nephew) not to condemn him, but with grief for - the sorrow he inflicted on Máshenka.... The chief characteristic - of her life, which involuntarily infected me, was her wonderful, - general kindliness to every one without exception. I try to recall - a single instance of her being angry, or speaking a sharp word, - or condemning any one, and I cannot recall one such instance in - the course of thirty years. She spoke well of our real aunt, who - had bitterly hurt her by taking us away from her.... As to her - kindly treatment of the servants--that goes without saying. She - had grown up in the idea that there are masters and servants, but - she utilised her authority only to serve them.... She never blamed - me directly for my evil life, though she suffered on my account. - My brother Sergéy, too, whom also she loved warmly, she did not - reproach even when he took a gipsy girl to live with him. The only - shade of disquietude she showed on our account was that, when he - was very late in returning home, she would say: 'What has become of - our Sergius?' Only _Sergius_ instead of _Seryósha_.... She never - told us in words how to live, never preached to us. All her moral - work was done internally; externally one only saw her deeds--and - not even deeds: there were no deeds; but all her life, peaceful, - sweet, submissive and loving, not troubled or self-satisfied, but - a life of quiet, unobtrusive love.... Her affectionateness and - tranquillity made her society noticeably attractive and gave a - special charm to intimacy with her. I know of no case where she - offended any one, and of no one who did not love her. She never - spoke of herself, never of religion or of what we ought to believe, - or of how she believed or prayed. She believed everything, except - that she rejected one dogma--that of eternal torment. '_Dieu, qui - est la bonté męme, ne peut pas vouloir nos souffrances._'[38]... - She often called me by my father's name (Nicholas) and this pleased - me very much, because it showed that her conceptions of me and of - my father mingled in her love of us both. - - [38] God, who is goodness itself, cannot desire our pain. - - It was not her love for me alone that was joyous. What was joyous - was the atmosphere of love to all who were present or absent, alive - or dead, and even to animals.... - -After telling of her goodness and her affection Tolstoy says in his -Memoirs that, though he appreciated his happiness with her, he did not -at the time nearly realise its full value; and he adds: - - She was fond of keeping sweets: figs, gingerbreads and dates, in - various jars in her room. I cannot forget, nor remember without - a cruel pang of remorse, that I repeatedly refused her money she - wanted for such things and how she, sighing sadly, remained - silent. It is true I was in need of money, but I cannot now - remember without horror that I refused her. - -Again in another place, after mentioning her self-devotion, he says: - - And it was to her, to her, that I refused the small pleasure of - having figs and chocolate (and not so much for herself as to - treat me) and of being able to give a trifle to those who begged - of her.... Dear, dear Aunty, forgive me! _Si jeunesse savait, si - vieillesse pouvait_ [if youth but knew, if age but could], I mean - not in the sense of the good lost for oneself in youth, but in the - sense of the good not given and the evil done to those who are no - more. - -Of Leo's life at Yásnaya at this time, his brother Nicholas gave Fet -the following humorous account: - - Lyóvotchka is zealously trying to become acquainted with peasant - life and with farming, of both of which, like the rest of us, he - has till now had but a superficial knowledge. But I am not sure - what sort of acquaintance will result from his efforts: Lyóvotchka - wants to get hold of everything at once, without omitting - anything--even his gymnastics. So he has rigged up a bar under his - study window. And of course, apart from prejudice, with which he - wages such fierce war, he is right: gymnastics do not interfere - with farming; but the steward sees things differently and says, - 'One comes to the master for orders, and he hangs head downward - in a red jacket, holding on by one knee to a perch, and swings - himself. His hair hangs down and blows about, the blood comes to - his face, and one does not know whether to listen to his orders or - to be astonished at him!' - - Lyóvotchka is delighted with the way the serf Ufán sticks out his - arms when ploughing; and so Ufán has become for him an emblem of - village strength, like the legendary Michael; and he himself, - sticking his elbows out wide, takes to the plough and 'Ufanizes.' - -In May 1858 Tolstoy wrote to Fet: - - DEAREST LITTLE UNCLE [as we might say, Dear old Boy]!--I write - two words merely to say that I embrace you with all my might, - have received your letter, kiss the hand of Márya Petróvna [Fet's - wife] and make obeisance to you all. Aunty thanks you very much - for your message and bows to you, so also does my sister. What a - wonderful spring it has been and is! I, in solitude, have tasted it - admirably. Brother Nicholas must be at Nikólsk. Catch him and do - not let him go. I want to come to see you this month. Tourgénef has - gone to Winzig till August to cure his bladder. - - Devil take him. I am tired of loving him. He deserts us, and won't - cure his bladder. - - Now good-bye, dear friend. If you have no poem ready for me by the - time I come, I shall proceed to squeeze one out of you.--Your - - COUNT L. TOLSTOY. - -Another letter to Fet runs: - - Ay, old fellow, ahoy! First, you give no sign, though it is - spring and you know we are all thinking of you, and that I, like - Prometheus, am bound to a rock, yet thirst for sight or sound - of you. You should either come, or at least send us a proper - invitation. Secondly, you have retained my brother, and a very good - brother, surnamed 'Firdusi' [an allusion to Nicholas's Oriental - wisdom]. The chief culprit in this matter, I suspect, is Márya - Petróvna, to whom I humbly bow, requesting her to return us our own - brother. Jesting apart, he bids me let you know that he will be - here next week. Drouzhínin will also come, so mind you come too, - old fellow. - -The first record of any participation by Tolstoy in political affairs -relates to the preparations for the Emancipation of the serfs. -Immediately after the conclusion of the Crimean war Alexander II, -addressing the Marshals of the Nobility, in Moscow, had said: 'The -existing manner of possessing serfs cannot remain unchanged. It is -better to abolish serfdom from above than to await the time when it -will begin to abolish itself from below. I request you, gentlemen, to -consider how this can be done, and to submit my words to the Nobility -for their consideration.' Some time passed without any definite -response to this appeal, and meanwhile the Polish nobility of the -Lithuanian Provinces, dissatisfied with certain regulations enacted -in the previous reign, incautiously asked to have them revised. The -Government grasped the opportunity, and treating this as the expression -of a wish for Emancipation, replied that 'the abolition of serfdom must -be effected not suddenly, but gradually,' and authorised the Nobility -to form Committees for the preparation of definite projects to that -end. Four days later the Minister of the Interior, acting on secret -orders from the Emperor, sent a circular to all the Governors and -Marshals of the Nobility in Russia proper, stating that the Lithuanian -nobles 'had recognised the necessity of liberating the peasants,' -and that 'this noble intention' had afforded peculiar satisfaction -to His Majesty, and explaining the principles to be observed in -case the nobles of other Provinces should express a similar desire. -A few weeks later the Emperor publicly expressed a hope that, with -the co-operation of his nobles, the work of Emancipation would be -successfully accomplished. It therefore became quite evident that, -whether the nobles liked it or not, Emancipation was at hand; since -the Emperor had, at last, definitely ranged himself on the side of -the Emancipationists. By accepting the invitation to co-operate in -the preparation of the scheme, there appeared to be a chance that -the nobles might so shape the measure that their interests would not -suffer; and consequently, during 1858, a Committee was chosen in -almost every Province of Central Russia. Among the rest a Meeting of -the Nobility of the Government of Toúla was fixed for the first of -September, to elect Deputies to the Committee for the Improvement of -the Condition of the Peasants. Tolstoy attended this meeting, and -together with one hundred and four fellow-nobles signed a document -stating that 'with the object of improving the condition of the -peasants, preserving the property of the landowners, and securing -the safety of both the one and the other, we consider it necessary -that the peasants should be liberated not otherwise than with an -allotment of a certain amount of land in hereditary possession, and -that the landowners should receive for the land they give up, full, -equitable, pecuniary recompense by means of such financial measures -as will not entail any obligatory relations between peasants and -proprietors,--relations which the Nobility consider it necessary to -terminate.' - -There is no indication that Tolstoy took any prominent part in -this meeting; and the resolution just quoted, while approving of -Emancipation, seems to attach at least equal importance to securing -full compensation for the landowners. Explain it how one may, the fact -remains that while the _Contemporary_, and all that was progressive -in Russian literature, was preoccupied with the effort to help to -shape the reforms so that they might really attain the ends aimed at, -Tolstoy almost retired from the scene, and hardly appeared aware of -the movement going on around him. The battle for freedom was fought -in the press by Tchernyshévsky, Kosheléf, and N. Samárin, by Herzen, -and by many others, including Nekrásof and Saltykóf; and Tolstoy's -indifference helps to explain the fact, already alluded to, that -during these years the critics ignored him, though his artistic -power continued to increase. His friend Fet also took no part in the -Emancipation movement; being in fact rather opposed to it. - -On 24th October 1858 Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - To write stories is stupid and shameful. To write verses--well, - write them; but to love a good man is very pleasant. Yet perhaps, - against my will and intention, not I, but an unripe story inside - me, compels me to love you. It sometimes seems like that. Do what - one will amid the manure and the mange, one somehow begins to - compose. Thank heaven, I have not yet allowed myself to write, and - will not do so.... Thank you exceedingly for your trouble about - a veterinary. I have found one in Toúla and have begun the cure, - but I do not know what will come of it.--And, may the devil take - them all,--Drouzhínin is appealing to me as a matter of friendship - to write a story. I really want to. I will spin such a yarn that - there will be no head or tail to it.... But joking apart, how is - your Hafiz getting on? [Fet was translating some poems by Hafiz.] - Turn it which way you will, the height of wisdom and fortitude for - me is to enjoy the poetry of others, and not to let my own in ugly - garb loose among men, but to consume it myself with my daily bread. - But at times one suddenly wishes to be a great man, and it is so - annoying that this has not yet come about! One even hurries to get - up quicker or to finish dinner in order to begin.... Send me a - poem, the healthiest of those you have translated from Hafiz, _me - faire venir l'eau ŕ la bouche_,[39] and I will send you a sample of - wheat. Hunting has bored me to death. The weather is excellent, but - I do not hunt alone. - - [39] To make my mouth water. - -In company, Tolstoy was however a keen sportsman, and in December 1858 -nearly lost his life while out bear-shooting. He has told the story, -with some embellishments, in one of the tales for children contained in -the volume. _Twenty-three Tales_.[40] The real facts were these: - - [40] Included in the _World's Classics_. - -Tolstoy and his brother Nicholas had made the acquaintance of S. -S. Gromeka, a well-known publicist who shared their fondness for -hunting--a sport very different in Russia from what it is in England, -as readers of Tolstoy's descriptions well know. - -Gromeka having heard that a she-bear with two young ones had her -lair in the forest near the railway at Volotchók, half-way between -Petersburg and Moscow, arranged matters with the peasants of that -locality, and invited the Tolstoys and other guests to a hunt. The -invitation was accepted, and on 21st December Leo Tolstoy shot a bear. -On 22nd the members of the party, each armed with two guns, were placed -at the ends of cuttings running through the forest in which the big -she-bear had been surrounded. These paths or cuttings divided the wood -like the lines of a chess-board. Peasants employed as beaters were -stationed to prevent the animal escaping except by approaching one or -other of the sportsmen. Ostáshkof, a famous professional huntsman, -supervised the proceedings. The guests were advised to stamp down the -snow around them, so as to give themselves room to move freely; but -Tolstoy (with his usual objection to routine methods) argued that as -they were out to shoot the bear and not to box with her, it was useless -to tread down the snow. He therefore stood with his two-barrelled gun -in his hand, surrounded by snow almost up to his waist. - -Tile bear, roused by the shouts of Ostáshkof, rushed down a cutting -directly towards one of the other sportsmen; but, perceiving him, -she suddenly swerved from her course and took a cross path which -brought her out on to the cutting leading straight to Tolstoy. He, not -expecting her visit, did not fire until the beast was within six yards, -and his first shot missed. The bear was only two yards from him when -his second shot hit her in the mouth. It failed to stop her rush, and -she knocked Tolstoy over on to his back in the snow. Carried past him -at first by her own impetus, the bear soon returned; and the next thing -Tolstoy knew was that he was being weighed down by something heavy and -warm, and he then felt that his face was being drawn into the beast's -mouth. He could only offer a passive resistance, by drawing down his -head as much as possible between his shoulders and trying to present -his cap instead of his face to the bear's teeth. This state of things -lasted only a few seconds, yet long enough for the bear, after one or -two misses, to get her teeth into the flesh above and below his left -eye. At this moment Ostáshkof, armed with a small switch, came running -up, shouting: 'Where are you getting to? Where are you getting to?' -At which the beast promptly took fright, and rushed off. Next day she -was followed up and killed. Owing to the amount of blood and torn -flesh, Tolstoy's wound at first appeared serious; but when it had been -washed with snow, and he had been taken to the nearest town and had had -it sewn up, it turned out to be superficial. He long retained a very -noticeable scar however as a memento of the encounter; and the bear's -skin may still be seen at Yásnaya. - -_Family Happiness_, written partly in 1858, was published early in -1859. It grew out of the unsuccessful love affair mentioned in the last -chapter, and is Tolstoy's imaginative description of what might have -been. - - -1859 - -The first months of 1859 he spent in Moscow, and here on the occasion -of joining the Moscow Society of Lovers of Russian Literature, on -4th February, he for the first time made a public speech: a task for -which, he once told me, he had no aptitude, and which he much disliked. -He wrote it out, and it was to have appeared in the Proceedings of -the Society, but for some reason never got printed. Its subject was -'The Supremacy of the Artistic Element in Literature,' and in it he -maintained a position almost the opposite of the one he advocated so -ardently and with such full conviction in _What is Art?_ forty years -later. - -He was answered by the Slavophil A. S. Homyakóf, who presided at the -meeting, and who in the course of his remarks said: - - Allow me to remark that the justice of the opinion you have so - skilfully stated is far from destroying the legitimacy of the - temporary and exceptional side of literature. That which is always - right, that which is always beautiful, that which is as unalterable - as the most fundamental laws of the soul, undoubtedly holds, and - should hold, the first place in the thoughts, the impulses, and - therefore in the speech of man. It, and it alone, will be handed on - by generation to generation and by nation to nation as a precious - inheritance. But on the other hand, in the nature of man and of - society there is continual need for self-indictment. There are - moments, moments important in history, when that self-indictment - acquires a special and indefeasible right, and manifests itself in - literature with great definiteness and keenness.... - - The rights of literature, the servant of eternal beauty, do not - destroy the rights of the literature of indictment, which always - accompanies social deficiencies and sometimes appears as the healer - of social evils.... - - Of course, Art is perfectly free: it finds its justification and - its aim in itself. But the freedom of Art in the abstract, has - nothing to do with the inner life of the artist. An artist is not - a theory--a sphere of thought and mental activity--but a man, and - always a man of his own times, usually its best representative, - completely imbued with its spirit and its defined or nascent - aspirations. By the very impressionability of his nature, without - which he could not be an artist, he, even more than others, - receives all the painful as well as joyous sensations of the - society to which he is born.... - - So the writer, a servant of pure art, sometimes becomes an accuser - even unconsciously, and despite his own will. I allow myself, - Count, to cite you as an example. You consciously follow a definite - road faithfully and undeviatingly; but are you really completely - alien to the literature of indictment? Were it but in the picture - of a consumptive post-boy, dying on top of a stove amid a crowd of - comrades apparently indifferent to his sufferings [this refers to - _Three Deaths_] have you not indicated some social disease, some - evil? When describing that death, is it possible that you did not - suffer from the horny indifference of good but unawakened human - souls? Yes, you too have been and will be an involuntary indicter! - -This question of the true position of literary art and its relation -to the rest of life, was one which occupied Tolstoy for many years, -and on which before the century closed he expressed himself in a book -which must be reckoned with by all who may hereafter deal with the -subject. The attitude he maintained at the time he entered the Society -of Lovers of Russian Literature, was in striking contrast with that -of the Slavophils, such as Homyakóf, and of the great majority of the -leading Russian writers of that day, who were fired with the hope of -Emancipation, just as in America at the same time, Lowell, Emerson, -Whittier, Thoreau, Walt Whitman, Longfellow, Channing, Lloyd Garrison, -and others, were stirred by the Anti-Slavery movement. - -In April Tolstoy went to Petersburg and spent ten days very pleasantly -with his aunt the Countess A. A. Tolstoy. By the end of the month he -was back at Yásnaya. In July, Tourgénef, from France, wrote Fet a long -letter in blank verse, a few lines of which indicate the relation -between Leo Tolstoy and himself at this time: - - 'Kiss Nicholas Tolstoy on my behalf - And to his brother Leo make my bow, - --As to his sister also. - He rightly says in his postscriptum: - "There is no cause" for me to write to him, - Indeed, I know he bears me little love - And I love him as little. Too differently - Are mixed those elements of which we're formed.' - - -1859-1860 - -During this winter Tolstoy devoted much time to an attempt to organise -schools on and near his estate. The education of its peasant children -was one of the things Russia most needed, and most terribly neglected. -Tolstoy recognised this, and set himself strenuously and eagerly to -show how the great need could be met. The work he did at this time was, -however, only preliminary to what he undertook after his next visit to -Western Europe, and he was far from being mentally at peace. At the -commencement of the New Year he noted in his Diary: 'The burden of -the estate, the burden of bachelor life, and all sorts of doubts and -pessimistic feelings agitate my mind.' - -One mention of the serfs (who were now nearing freedom) occurs in a -letter Tolstoy wrote to Fet on 23rd February 1860, in reply to a note -in which the latter had expressed a wish to buy an estate, settle down -in the country, and devote himself to farming. Tolstoy replies that -there is an estate for sale adjoining his own, containing: - - Four hundred desyatíns of good land with, unfortunately, seventy - souls of bad serfs. But that does not matter; they will gladly pay - quit-rent [in lieu of personal service] as mine do, at the rate of - Rs. 30 a _tyaglo_ [man and wife with an allotment of land] or Rs. - 660 for the twenty-two _tyaglos_, and you will get not less than - that, if not more, at the Emancipation, and will have sufficient - unexhausted land and meadow left to yield about Rs. 2000 a year, - or over Rs. 2600 in all. The price asked for the estate is Rs. - 24,000, besides a mortgage of about Rs. 5000.... At any rate it - would be a good bargain to buy it for Rs. 20,000.... The seller is - an old man who is ruined, and wants to sell it quickly in order to - get rid of his son-in-law. He has twice sent to offer it me. The - above calculation shows what the estate should yield in a couple of - years' time if about Rs. 5000 be spent on improving it; but even - in its present condition one can answer for a return of Rs. 1500, - which is more than 7 per cent. on the cost. - -In Russia to buy serfs was not then considered more discreditable than -it is in England to-day to buy shares in a china or match factory; and -in the same letter Tolstoy goes on to discuss literature: - - I have read Tourgénef's _On the Eve_. This is my opinion: to write - novels is undesirable, especially for people who are depressed - and do not well know what they want from life. However, _On the - Eve_ is much better than _A Nest of Gentlefolk_, and there are in - it excellent negative characters: the artist and the father. The - rest are not types; even their conception, their position, is not - typical, or they are quite insignificant. That however is always - Tourgénef's mistake. The girl is hopelessly bad: 'Ah, how I love - thee ... her eyelashes were long.' In general it always surprises - me that Tourgénef, with his mental powers and poetic sensibility, - should even in his methods not be able to refrain from banality. - This banality shows itself most of all in his negative methods, - which recall Gógol. There is no humanity or sympathy for the - characters, but the author exhibits monsters whom he scolds and - does not pity. This jars painfully with the tone and intention of - Liberalism in everything else. It was all very well in the days of - Tsar Goroh [a character in a fairy story] or of Gógol (though if - one does not pity even the most insignificant of one's characters, - one should scold them so that the heavens grow hot, or laugh at - them so that one's sides split, and not as our splenetic and - dyspeptic Tourgénef does). On the whole, however, there is now no - one else who could write such a novel, though it will not meet with - success. - - Ostróvsky's _The Storm_ is, in my opinion, a wretched work, but - will be successful. Not Ostróvsky and Tourgénef are to blame, but - the times.... Something else is now needed: not that we should - learn and criticise, but that we should teach Jack and Jill at - least a little of what we know. - -This letter to Fet, who was in Moscow, ends with requests to procure -some books, including a veterinary handbook, a veterinary instrument, -and a lancet for use on human beings; to see about procuring six -ploughs of a special make, and to find out the price of clover and -timothy-grass, of which Tolstoy had some to sell. - - -1860 - -At this time Tolstoy worked at his story _The Cossacks_, the plan of -which he had sketched out in 1852, but which he did not complete till -1862. - -One comes across notes in his Diary which indicate his state of mind -at this period with regard to religion. After reading a book on -Materialism he notes: - - I thought of prayer. To what can one pray? What is God, imagined - so clearly that one can ask him to communicate with us? If I - imagine such an one, he loses all grandeur for me. A God whom one - can beseech and whom one can serve--is the expression of mental - weakness. He is God, because I cannot grasp his being. Indeed, he - is not a Being, but a Law and a Force. - -He was a great puzzle to his friends and acquaintances--always ready to -take his own line strenuously, yet sometimes far from sure what that -line was. Tourgénef wrote to Fet: - - Leo Tolstoy continues his eccentricities. Evidently it was so - decreed at his birth. When will he turn his last somersault and - stand on his feet? - -The fact that Tolstoy, like his friend Fet, was neglecting literature -did not fail to call forth many remonstrances, one of the most urgent -of which came to him from Drouzhínin, who wrote: - - Every writer has his moments of doubt and self-dissatisfaction, and - however strong and legitimate this feeling may be, no one on that - account has yet ceased his connection with literature; every one - goes on writing to the end. But all tendencies, good or bad, cling - to you with peculiar obstinacy; so that you, more than others, need - to think of this and to consider the whole matter amicably. - - First of all, remember that after poetry and mental labour all - other work seems worthless. _Qui a bu, boira_; and at the age of - thirty to tear oneself away from authorship means losing half - the interest of life. But that is only half the matter; there is - something still more important. - - On all of us lies a responsibility rooted in the immense importance - of literature to Russian society. An Englishman or an American may - laugh at the fact that in Russia not merely men of thirty, but - grey-haired owners of 2000 serfs sweat over stories of a hundred - pages, which appear in the magazines, are devoured by everybody, - and arouse discussion in society for a whole day. However much - artistic quality may have to do with this result, you cannot - explain it merely by Art. What in other lands is a matter of - idle talk and careless dilettantism, with us is quite another - affair. Among us things have taken such shape that a story--the - most frivolous and insignificant form of literature--becomes one - of two things: either it is rubbish, or else it is the voice of - a leader sounding throughout the Empire. For instance, we all - know Tourgénef's weakness, but a whole ocean divides the most - insignificant of his stories from the very best of Mrs. Eugene - Tour's, with her half-talent. By some strange instinct the Russian - public has chosen from among the crowd of writers four or five - bell-men whom it values as leaders, refusing to listen to any - qualifications or deductions. You--partly by talent, partly by - the practical qualities of your soul, and partly owing simply to - a concurrence of fortunate circumstances--have stepped into this - favourable relation with the public. On that account you must not - go away and hide, but must work, even to the exhaustion of your - strength and powers. That is one side of the matter; but here is - another. You are a member of a literary circle that is honourable - (as far as may be), independent, and influential; and which for ten - years, amid persecutions and misfortunes, and notwithstanding its - members' vices, has firmly upheld the banner of all that is Liberal - and enlightened, and has borne all this weight of abuse without - committing one mean action. In spite of the world's coldness and - ignorance and its contempt for literature, this circle is rewarded - with honour and moral influence. Of course, there are in it - insignificant and even stupid homunculi; but even they play a part - in the general union, and have not been useless. In that circle you - again, though you arrived but recently, have a place and a voice - such as Ostróvsky for instance does not possess, though he has - immense talent and his moral tendency is as worthy as your own. Why - this has happened it would take too long to analyse, nor is it to - the point. If you tear yourself off from the circle of writers and - become inactive, you will be dull, and will deprive yourself of an - important rôle in society.... - -At this time the state of health of his brother Nicholas--who (like -Demetrius) had consumptive tendencies--began to disturb Leo Tolstoy. -It was arranged that Nicholas should go to Germany for a cure. The -following letter written by Leo Tolstoy to Fet, after Nicholas had -started, refers to this and other matters: - - ... You are a writer and remain a writer, and God speed you. But - that, besides this, you wish to find a spot where you can dig like - an ant, is an idea which has come to you and which you must carry - out, and carry out better than I have done. You must do it because - you are both a good man and one who looks at life healthily.... - However, it is not for me now to deal out to you approval or - disapproval with an air of authority. I am greatly at sixes and - sevens with myself. Farming on the scale on which it is carried - out on my estate, crushes me. To 'Ufanize'[41] is a thing I only - see afar off. Family affairs, Nicholas's illness (of which we have - as yet no news from abroad) and my sister's departure (she leaves - me in three days' time) also crush and occupy me. Bachelor life, - _i.e._ not having a wife, and the thought that it is getting too - late, torments me from a third side. In general, everything is now - out of tune with me. On account of my sister's helplessness and - my wish to see Nicholas, I shall at any rate procure a foreign - passport to-morrow, and perhaps I shall accompany my sister abroad; - especially if we do not receive news, or receive bad news, from - Nicholas. How much I would give to see you before leaving, how - much I want to tell you and to hear from you; but it is now hardly - possible. Yet if this letter reaches you quickly, remember that we - leave Yásnaya on Thursday or more probably on Friday. - - [41] To work like a peasant. The origin of this word is given - on p. 179. - - Now as to farming: The price they ask of you is not exorbitant, - and if the place pleases you, you should buy it. Only why do you - want so much land? I have learned by three years' experience that - with all imaginable diligence it is impossible to grow cereals - profitably or pleasantly on more than 60 or 70 desyatíns [160 to - 190 acres] that is, on about 15 desyatíns in each of four fields. - Only in that way can one escape trembling for every omission (for - then one ploughs not twice but three or four times) and for every - hour a peasant misses, and for every extra rouble-a-month one pays - him; for one can bring 15 desyatíns to the point of yielding 30 - to 40 per cent. on the fixed and working capital; but with 80 or - 100 desyatíns under plough one cannot do so. Please do not let this - advice slip past your ears; it is not idle talk, but a result of - experience I have had to pay for. Any one who tells you differently - is either lying or ignorant. More than that, even with 15 desyatíns - an all-absorbing industry is necessary. But then one can gain - a reward--one of the pleasantest life gives; whereas with 90 - desyatíns one has to labour like a post-horse, with no possibility - of success. I cannot find sufficient words to scold myself for not - having written to you sooner--in which case you would surely have - come to see us. Now farewell. - -Things meanwhile were not going very well with Nicholas, who wrote from -Soden in Hesse-Nassau: - - In Soden we joined Tourgénef, who is alive and well--so well that - he himself confesses that he is 'quite' well. He has found some - German girl and goes into ecstasies about her. We (this relates to - our dearest Tourgénef) play chess together, but somehow it does not - go as it should: he is thinking of his German girl, and I of my - cure.... I shall probably stay in Soden for at least six weeks. I - do not describe my journey because I was ill all the time. - -Eventually Leo Tolstoy made up his mind to accompany his sister and -her children abroad, and on 3rd July (old style) they took steamer -from Petersburg for Stettin _en route_ for Berlin. Besides anxiety on -his brother's account, Tolstoy had another reason for going abroad: he -wished to study the European systems of education, in order to know -what had been accomplished in the line to which he now intended to -devote himself. - -On reaching Berlin he suffered from toothache for four days, and -decided to remain there while his sister proceeded to join Nicholas at -Soden. He consulted a doctor, as he was suffering also from headache -and hemorrhoidal attacks, and he was ordered to take a cure at -Kissingen. - -He only stayed a few days in Berlin after getting rid of his toothache, -and left on 14th July (old style), having however found time to attend -lectures on History by Droysen, and on Physics and Physiology by Du -Bois-Reymond, and having also visited some evening classes for artisans -at the _Handwerksverein_, where he was greatly interested in the -popular lectures, and particularly in the system of 'question-boxes.' -The method of arousing the interest of the audience by allowing them to -propound questions for the lecturer to reply to, was new to him, and he -was struck by the life it brought into the classes, and by the freedom -of mental contact between scholars and teacher. He noticed the same -thing when he was in London a few months later, for he told me that -nothing he saw there interested him more than a lecture he attended -in South Kensington, at which questions were put by working men, and -answered by a speaker who was master of his subject and knew how to -popularise it. - -In Berlin he visited the Moabit Prison, in which solitary confinement -was practised. Tolstoy strongly disapproved of this mechanical attempt -to achieve moral reformation. From Berlin he went to Leipzig, where he -spent a day inspecting schools; but he derived little satisfaction from -the Saxon schools he visited, as is indicated by a remark he jotted -down in his Diary, 'Have been in school--terrible. Prayers for the -King, blows, everything by rote, frightened, paralysed children....' He -then proceeded to Dresden, where he called on the novelist Auerbach, -whose story, _Ein Neues Leben_ (_A New Life_), had much influenced -him. The chief character in that story is Count Fulkenberg, who after -being an officer in the army, gets into trouble, escapes from prison, -buys the passport of a school-master, Eugene Baumann, and under that -name devotes himself to the task of educating peasant children. When -Auerbach entered the room in which his visitor was waiting, the latter -introduced himself with the words: 'I am Eugene Baumann,' in such -solemn tones and with so morose an appearance, that the German writer -was taken aback and feared that he was about to be threatened with an -action for libel. Tolstoy however hastened to add: '--not in name, but -in character--' and went on to explain how good an effect Auerbach's -_Schwarzwälder Dorfgeschichten_ (_Village Tales of the Black Forest_) -had had on him. - -After three days in Dresden, he went on to Kissingen, which was in -those days about five hours' journey from Soden, where Nicholas was -staying. Still intent on his educational inquiries, he read _en route_ -a history of pedagogics. - -From Kissingen he wrote his Aunt Tatiána that he thought the cure was -doing him good, and added: - - Tell the steward to write me most minutely about the farming, the - harvest, the horses and their illness. Tell the schoolmaster to - write about the school: how many pupils come, and whether they - learn well. I shall certainly return in autumn and intend to - occupy myself more than ever with the school, so I do not wish its - reputation to be lost while I am away, and I want as many pupils as - possible from different parts. - -While in Kissingen he read Bacon and Luther and Riehl, and made the -acquaintance of Julius Froebel, author of _The System of Social -Politics_ and nephew of Froebel, the founder of the Kindergarten -system. Julius Froebel was himself much interested in educational -matters, and was a particularly suitable person to explain his uncle's -ideas to Tolstoy. - -The latter astonished his new acquaintance, with whom he used to go -for walks, by the uncompromising rigidity of his views, which showed -a considerable tinge of Slavophilism. Progress in Russia, declared -Tolstoy, must be based on popular education, which would give better -results in Russia than in Germany, because the Russian people were -still unperverted, whereas the Germans were like children who had -for years been subjected to a bad education. Popular education should -not be compulsory. If it is a blessing, the demand for it should come -naturally, as the demand for food comes from hunger. - -Tolstoy visited the country round Kissingen, and travelling northward -through a part of Germany rich both in scenery and in historic -interest, reached Eisenach and visited the Wartburg, where Luther -was confined after the Diet of Worms. The personality of the great -Protestant reformer interested Tolstoy greatly, and after seeing the -room in which Luther commenced his translation of the Bible, he noted -in his Diary: 'Luther was great'! Twenty years later Tolstoy himself -attempted to free the minds of men from the yoke of an established -Church, and he too shaped his chief weapon against the Church by -translating, not, it is true, like Luther, the whole Bible, but the -Gospels. - -Meanwhile Nicholas Tolstoy's health had been growing worse rather than -better. Sergius, having been unlucky at roulette, decided to return to -Russia, and visiting Leo at Kissingen _en route_, told him of his fears -for Nicholas. On 9th August Sergius left Kissingen and Nicholas himself -arrived there to visit Leo, but soon returned to Soden. Leo then spent -a fortnight in the Harz Mountain district, enjoying nature and reading -a great deal. On 26th August he rejoined Nicholas, his sister and her -children, at Soden. The doctors had decided that Nicholas must winter -in a warmer climate, and the place decided on was Hyčres near Toulon, -on the shores of the Mediterranean. - -The first stage of the journey undertaken by the family party was to -Frankfurt-on-Main, where their aunt, the Countess A. A. Tolstoy, was -staying. She tells the following story of Leo's visit to her on this -occasion: - - One day Prince Alexander of Hesse and his wife were calling on me, - when suddenly the door of the drawing-room opened and Leo appeared - in the strangest garb, suggestive of a picture of a Spanish bandit. - I gasped with astonishment. Leo apparently was not pleased with my - visitors, and soon took his departure. - - [42]'Qui est donc ce singulier personnage?' inquired my visitors in - astonishment. - - 'Mais c'est Léon Tolstoy.' - - 'Ah, mon Dieu, pourquoi ne l'avez vous pas nommé? Aprčs avoir lu - ses admirables écrits, nous mourions d'envie de le voir,' said - they, reproachfully. - - [42] Who is that singular person?--inquired my visitors in - astonishment. - - Why, it is Leo Tolstoy! - - Ah, good heavens! Why did you not tell us who it was? - After reading his admirable writings, we were dying to see - him.--said they, reproachfully. - -From Frankfurt the party proceeded to Hyčres, where Nicholas, growing -rapidly worse and worse, died on 20th September (new style). - -Few men have been so admired and loved as he was by all who knew him. -The only thing recorded against him is the fact that when serving in -the Caucasus he, like many of his fellow-officers, gave way to some -extent to intemperance; but after returning home he recovered his -self-control. I have already told of his influence over Leo in the -early days of the Ant-Brotherhood, and of the green stick, buried where -Tolstoy himself wishes his body to lie. Such influence he retained all -through life, and men and women of most different temperaments make -equally enthusiastic mention of his charm and goodness. That Leo's -judgment of what is good and bad has remained strongly influenced by -his love for and memory of Nicholas, is plain enough to all who have -the facts before them and read his works attentively. - -Tourgénef once said: - - The humility which Leo Tolstoy developed theoretically, his brother - actually practised in life. He always lived in the most impossible - lodgings, almost hovels, somewhere in the out-of-the-way quarters - of Moscow, and he willingly shared all he had with the poorest - outcast. He was a delightful companion and narrator, but writing - was to him almost a physical impossibility, the actual process of - writing being as difficult for him as for a labourer whose stiff - hands will not hold a pen. - -Nicholas did, however, as a matter of fact, contribute some _Memoirs of -a Sportsman_ to the _Contemporary_. - -Never was any one's death more sincerely regretted. This is the letter -Leo wrote to Aunt Tatiána, the night the event occurred. - - CHČRE TANTE!--The black seal will have told you all. What I have - been expecting from hour to hour for two weeks occurred at nine - o'clock this evening. Only since yesterday did he let me help him - undress, and to-day for the first time he definitely took to his - bed and asked for a nurse. He was conscious all the time, and a - quarter-of-an-hour before he died he drank some milk and told me - he was comfortable. Even to-day he still joked and showed interest - in my educational projects. Only a few minutes before he died he - whispered several times: 'My God, my God!' It seems to me that he - felt his position, but deceived himself and us. Máshenka, only - to-day, some four hours before, had gone three miles out of Hyčres - to where she is living. She did not at all expect it to come so - soon. I have just closed his eyes. I shall now soon be back with - you and will tell you all personally. I do not intend to transport - the body. The funeral will be arranged by the Princess Golítsin, - who has taken it all on herself. - - Farewell, _chčre tante_. I cannot console you. It is God's - will--that is all. I am not writing to Seryózha now. He is probably - away hunting, you know where. So let him know, or send him this - letter. - -On the day after the funeral he wrote to Sergius: - - I think you have had news of the death of Nicholas. I am sorry for - you that you were not here. Hard as it is, I am glad it all took - place in my presence, and that it acted on me in the right way--not - like Mítenka's [his third brother, Demetrius] death, of which I - heard when I was not thinking at all about him. However, this is - quite different. With Mítenka only memories of childhood and family - feeling were bound up; but this was a real man both to you and to - me, whom we loved and _respected_ positively more than any one else - on earth. You know the selfish feeling which came latterly, that - the sooner it was over the better; it is dreadful now to write it - and to remember that one thought it. Till the last day, with his - extraordinary strength of character and power of concentration, - he did everything to avoid becoming a burden to me. On the day - of his death he dressed and washed himself, and in the morning I - found him dressed on his bed. Only about nine hours before he died - did he give way to his illness and ask to be undressed. It first - happened in the closet. I went downstairs, and heard his door open. - I returned and did not find him. At first I feared to go to him--he - used not to like it; but this time he himself said, 'Help me!' - - And he submitted and became different that day, mild and gentle. - He did not groan, did not blame any one, praised everybody, and - said to me: 'Thank you, _my friend_.' You understand what that - meant between us. I told him I had heard how he coughed in the - morning, but did not come to him from _fausse honte_ [false shame]. - 'Needlessly,' said he--'it would have consoled me.' Suffering? He - suffered; but it was not until a couple of days before his death - that he once said: 'How terrible these nights without sleep are! - Towards morning the cough chokes one, unendingly! And it hurts--God - knows how! A couple more such nights--it's terrible!' Not once did - he say plainly that he felt the approach of death. But he only did - not _say_ it. On the day of his death he ordered a dressing-gown, - and yet when I remarked that if he did not get better, Máshenka and - I would not go to Switzerland, he replied: 'Do you really think I - shall be better?' in such a tone that it was evident what he felt - but for my sake did not say, and what I for his sake did not show; - all the same, from the morning I knew what was coming, and was with - him all the time. He died quite without suffering--externally, at - all events. He breathed more and more slowly--and it was all over. - The next day I went to him and feared to uncover his face. I - thought it would show yet more suffering and be more terrible than - during his illness; but you cannot imagine what a beautiful face it - was, with his best, merry, calm expression. - - Yesterday he was buried here. At one time I thought of transporting - him, and of telegraphing for you; but I reconsidered it. It is no - use chafing the wound. I am sorry for you that the news will have - reached you out hunting, amid distractions, and will not grip you - as it does us. It is good for one. I now feel what I have often - been told, that when one loses some one who was what he was to us, - it becomes much easier to think of one's own death. - -On 13th October 1860 he notes in his Diary: - - It is nearly a month since Nicholas died. That event has torn me - terribly from life. Again the question: Why? Already the departure - draws near. Whither? Nowhere. I try to write, I force myself, - but do not get on, because I cannot attach enough importance to - the work to supply the necessary strength and patience. At the - very time of the funeral the thought occurred to me to write a - Materialist Gospel, a Life of Christ as a Materialist. - -One sees how bit by bit the seeds of the work Tolstoy was to do in -later years planted themselves in his mind. In early childhood came the -enthusiasm for the Ant-Brotherhood and the influence of his brother, -of Aunt Tatiána, and of the pilgrims; then an acquaintance with the -writings of Voltaire and other sceptics, undermining belief in the -miraculous; then, in Sevastopol, the idea of 'founding a new religion: -Christianity purged of dogmas and mysticism'; then a study of Luther's -Reformation, and now the idea of a rationalist Life of Christ. - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY IN 1860, THE YEAR HIS BROTHER NICHOLAS DIED.] - -On 17th October Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - I think you already know what has happened. On 20 September he - died, literally in my arms. Nothing in my life has so impressed - me. It is true, as he said, that nothing is worse than death. And - when one reflects well that yet _that_ is the end of all, then - there is nothing worse than life. Why strive or try, since of - what was Nicholas Tolstoy nothing remains his? He did not say that - he felt the approach of death, but I know he watched each step - of its approach and knew with certainty how much remained. Some - moments before his death he drowsed off, but awoke suddenly and - whispered with horror: 'What is that?' That was when he saw it--the - absorption of himself into Nothingness. And if he found nothing - to cling to, what can I find? Still less! And assuredly neither I - nor any one will fight it to the last moment, as he did. Two days - before, I said to him: 'We ought to put a commode in your room.' - - 'No,' said he, 'I am weak, but not yet so weak as that; I will - struggle on yet awhile.' - - To the last he did not yield, but did everything for himself, - and always tried to be occupied. He wrote, questioned me about - my writings, and advised me. But it seemed to me that he did all - this not from any inner impulse, but on principle. One thing--his - love of Nature--remained to the last. The day before, he went into - his bedroom and from weakness fell on his bed by the open window. - I came to him, and he said with tears in his eyes, 'How I have - enjoyed this whole hour.' - - From earth we come, and to the earth we go. One thing is left--a - dim hope that there, in Nature, of which we become part in the - earth, something will remain and will be found. - - All who knew and saw his last moments, say: 'How wonderfully - calmly, peacefully he died'; but I know with what terrible pain, - for not one feeling of his escaped me. - - A thousand times I say to myself: 'Let the dead bury their dead.' - One must make some use of the strength which remains to one, but - one cannot persuade a stone to fall upwards instead of downwards - whither it is drawn. One cannot laugh at a joke one is weary of. - One cannot eat when one does not want to. And what is life all - for, when to-morrow the torments of death will begin, with all - the abomination of falsehood and self-deception, and will end - in annihilation for oneself? An amusing thing! Be useful, be - beneficent, be happy while life lasts,--say people to one another; - but you, and happiness, and virtue, and utility, consist of truth. - And the truth I have learned in thirty-two years is, that the - position in which we are placed is terrible. 'Take life as it is; - you have put yourselves in that position.' How! I take life as it - is. As soon as man reaches the highest degree of development, he - sees clearly that it is all nonsense and deception, and that the - truth--which he still loves better than all else--is terrible. That - when you look at it well and clearly, you wake with a start and say - with terror, as my brother did: 'What is that?' - - Of course, so long as the desire to know and speak the truth lasts, - one tries to know and speak. That alone remains to me of the moral - world; higher than that I cannot place myself. That alone I will - do, but not in the form of your art. Art is a lie, and I can no - longer love a beautiful lie. - - I shall remain here for the winter because I am here, and it is - all the same where one lives. Please write to me. I love you as my - brother loved you, and he remembered you to his last moment. - -A month later we find him writing in a different state of mind: - - A boy of thirteen has died in torment from consumption. What for? - The only explanation is given by faith in the compensation of a - future life. If that does not exist, there is no justice, and - justice is vain, and the demand for justice--a superstition. - - Justice forms the most essential demand of man to man. And man - looks for the same in his relation to the universe. Without a - future life it is lacking. Expediency is the sole, the unalterable - law of Nature, say the naturalists. But in the best manifestations - of man's soul: love and poetry--it is absent. This has all existed - and has died--often without expressing itself. Nature, if her one - law be expediency, far o'erstepped her aim when she gave man the - need of poetry and love. - -Nearly twenty years later, in his _Confession_, Tolstoy referred to his -brother's death in the words: - - Another event which showed me that the superstitious belief in - progress is insufficient as a guide to life, was my brother's - death. Wise, good, serious, he fell ill while still a young man, - suffered for more than a year and died painfully, not understanding - why he had lived, and still less why he had to die. No theories - could give me, or him, any reply to these questions during his slow - and painful dying. - -Any one who has read the works Tolstoy wrote during the quarter of a -century which succeeded his brother's death, will be aware how long he -remained in doubt on this matter of a future life, and how he expressed -now one, and now another view. - -At Hyčres he continued to study the question of education, and for that -purpose made many visits to Marseilles. He also wrote: continuing _The -Cossacks_ and commencing an article on Popular Education. We get a -glimpse of him at this period from his sister, who tells us that they -had been invited to an At Home at Prince Doundoukóf-Korsákof's; but -Tolstoy, who was to have been the lion of the occasion, failed to put -in an appearance. The company, which included all the 'best' people, -were getting dull, despite everything the hostess could devise for -their amusement, when at last, very late, Count Tolstoy was announced. -The hostess and her guests immediately brightened up; but what was -their astonishment to see him appear in tourist garb and wearing wooden -_sabots_! He had been for a long walk, and returning late, had come to -the party without calling at his lodgings; and no sooner was he in the -room than he began assuring everybody that wooden _sabots_ were the -very best and most comfortable of foot-gear, and advising every one to -adopt them. Even in those days he was a man to whom all things were -allowed, and the evening, instead of being spoilt, became all the gayer -from his eccentricity. There was a great deal of singing, and it fell -to Tolstoy's lot to accompany the singers. - -At Hyčres, after his brother's death, Tolstoy lived with his sister -and her three children in a _pension_ where the only other lodgers -were a Madame Pláksin and her delicate nine-year-old son Sergéy, whose -lungs were thought to be affected, but who lived to become a poet -and to publish his recollections of Tolstoy. Pláksin describes him -as having been at that time a strongly built, broad-shouldered man, -with a good-natured smile on his face, which was fringed by a thick, -dark-brown beard. Under a large forehead, still bearing a deep scar -from the wound inflicted by the bear two years before, wise, kind eyes -shone out of very deep sockets. 'Tolstoy,' says Pláksin, 'was the soul -of our little society, and I never saw him dull; on the contrary, he -liked to amuse us with his stories, which were sometimes extremely -fantastic.' Tolstoy rose early, and while he was at work the children -were not allowed to disturb him beyond running in for a moment to say -'good-morning.' Being himself an indefatigable walker, Tolstoy used to -plan out excursions for the company, constantly discovering new places -to visit: the salterns on the peninsula of Porquerolle; the holy hill -where the chapel with the wonder-working image of the Madonna stands; -or the ruins of the castle called _Trou des Fées_. They used to have -with them on these excursions, a small ass carrying provisions, fruit -and wine. - - On the way Tolstoy used to tell us various tales; I remember one - about a golden horse and a giant tree, from the top of which all - the seas and all towns were visible. Knowing that my lungs were - delicate, he often took me on his shoulder and continued his tale - as he walked along. Need I say that we would have laid down our - lives for him? - -At dinner-time Tolstoy used to tell the French proprietors of the -_pension_ the strangest stories about Russia, which they never knew -whether or not to believe until the Countess or Madame Pláksin came to -their rescue by separating the truth from the fiction. - -After dinner, either on the terrace or indoors, a performance -commenced, opera or ballet, to the sound of the piano: the children -'mercilessly tormenting the ears of the audience' (which consisted of -the two ladies, Tolstoy, and Pláksin's nurse). Next came gymnastic -exercises, in which Tolstoy acted as professor. 'He would lie at full -length on the floor, making us do the same, and we had then to get up -without using our hands.' He also contrived an apparatus out of rope, -which he fixed up in the doorway; and on this he performed somersaults, -to the great delight of his juvenile audience. - -When the latter became too turbulent and the ladies begged Tolstoy to -subdue the noise, he would set the children round the table, and tell -them to bring pens and ink. - -The following is an example of the sort of occupation he provided: - - 'Listen,' said he one day; 'I am going to give you a lesson.' - - 'What on?' demanded bright-eyed Lisa. - - Disregarding his niece's question, he continued: - - 'Write...' - - 'But what are we to write, uncle?' persisted Lisa. - - 'Listen; I will give you a theme...!' - - 'What will you give us?' - - 'A theme!' firmly replied Tolstoy. 'In what respect does Russia - differ from other countries? Write it here, in my presence, and - don't copy from one another! Do you hear?' added he, impressively. - -In half an hour the 'compositions' were ready. Pláksin had to read his -own, as his lines were so irregular that no one else could decipher -them. In his opinion Russia differed from other countries in that, at -carnival time, Russians eat pancakes and slide down ice-hills, and at -Easter they colour eggs. - -'Bravo!' said Tolstoy, and proceeded to make out Kólya's MS., in which -Russia was distinguished by its snow, and Lisa's, in which 'troikas' -(three-horse conveyances) played the chief part. - -In reward for these evening exercises, Tolstoy brought water-colour -paints from Marseilles and taught the children drawing. - -He often spent nearly the whole day with the children, teaching them, -taking part in their games, and intervening in their disputes, which he -analysed, proving to them who was in the right and who in the wrong. - -There was at this time some mutual attraction between Tolstoy and a -young Russian lady, Miss Yákovlef, who was staying at Hyčres; but, like -many other similar affairs, it came to nothing. - -On leaving Hyčres, Tolstoy, his sister, and her children, went to -Geneva, and from thence he proceeded alone to Nice, Leghorn, Florence, -Rome, and Naples. In Italy he says he experienced his first lively -impression of antiquity; but very little record remains of this -journey, and it is nowhere reflected in his writings. - -He returned to Paris _viâ_ Marseilles, the schools and other -institutions of which he observed closely, trying to discover how man's -intelligence is really best developed. - -He was very unfavourably impressed by the popular schools of -Marseilles. The studies, he says, consisted in learning by heart the -Catechism, sacred and general History, the four rules of Arithmetic, -French spelling and Book-keeping--the latter without sufficient -comprehension of the use of arithmetic to enable the children to deal -sensibly with the simplest practical problems requiring addition and -subtraction, though they could do long multiplication sums quickly and -well when only abstract figures were given. Similarly, they answered -well by rote questions in French History, but, when asked at hazard, -they would give such answers as that Henry IV was killed by Julius -Cćsar. - -He observed the instruction given by the Churches, and visited the -adult schools of the town, as well as its _Salles d'Asile_, in which, -he says: - - I saw four-year-old children perform like soldiers, evolutions - round benches to orders given by whistle, and raise and cross their - arms to the word of command, and with strange trembling voices - sing hymns of praise to God and their benefactors; and I became - convinced that the educational establishments of Marseilles were - extremely bad. - - Any one seeing them would naturally conclude that the French people - must be ignorant, coarse, hypocritical, full of superstition and - almost savage. - - Yet one need only come in contact with and chat with any of the - common people, to convince oneself that on the contrary the French - people are almost what they consider themselves to be: intelligent, - clever, sociable, freethinking, and really civilised. Take a - workman of, say, thirty years of age: he will write a letter - without such mistakes as at school, sometimes even quite correctly; - he has some idea of politics, and therefore of recent history and - geography; he knows some history from novels, knows something of - natural history, and he very often draws, and is able to apply - mathematical formulae to his trade. Where did he get all this? - - I recently discovered the answer in Marseilles, by wandering about - the streets, drink-shops, _cafés chantants_, museums, workshops, - wharves and book-stalls. The very boy who told me that Henry IV was - killed by Julius Cćsar, knew the history of _The Three Musketeers_ - and of _Monte Cristo_ very well. - -In Marseilles Tolstoy found that everybody had read Dumas' works, of -which there were twenty-eight cheap editions. He estimated that each -week, in the _cafés chantants_, at least one-fifth of the population -received oral education, as the Greeks and Romans used to do. Comedies -and sketches were performed, verses declaimed, and the influence for -good or evil of this unconscious education far outweighed that of the -compulsory education given in schools. - - -1861 - -In January he reached Paris, where he spent a large part of his time -in omnibuses, amusing himself by observing the people. He declares -he never met a passenger who was not represented in one or other -of Paul de Kock's stories. Of that writer, as of Dumas _pčre_, he -thinks highly. 'Don't talk nonsense to me,' he once said, 'about -Paul de Kock's immorality. He is, according to English ideas, -somewhat improper. He is more or less what the French call _leste_ -and _gaulois_, but never immoral. In everything he says, and despite -his rather free jests, his tendency is quite moral. He is a French -Dickens.... As to Dumas, every novelist should know him by heart. His -plots are admirable, not to mention the workmanship. I can read and -re-read him, though he aims chiefly at plots and intrigue.' - -In Paris he again met Tourgénef; and from France he went on to London, -where he remained six weeks, not enjoying his visit much as he suffered -severely from toothache nearly all the time. It is characteristic -of Tolstoy that though he has often been a victim to toothache and -has also been much tried by digestive troubles, he never appears to -have had his teeth properly attended to by a dentist. A dentist's -establishment seems to him so unnatural and artificial that it must -be wrong. Moreover, dentists do not always do their work well; and -toothache--if one endures it long enough--cures itself, and in the past -the majority of mankind have got along without dentists. So he has been -inclined to put up with toothache as one of the ills it is best to bear -patiently. - -During his stay he, and Tourgénef who had also come to London, saw -a great deal of Alexander Herzen, who was editing _Kólokol_ (_The -Bell_)--the most influential paper ever published by a Russian exile. - -I have already remarked on the fact that the Reform movements of that -time left Tolstoy curiously cold; and here again it may be noted that -though Tourgénef contributed to Herzen's prohibited paper, Tolstoy -never wrote anything for it. - -Herzen's little daughter, who had read and greatly enjoyed _Childhood_, -_Boyhood_, and _Youth_, hearing that the author was coming to see her -father, obtained permission to be present when he called. She ensconced -herself in an arm-chair in a corner of the study at the appointed time, -and when Count Tolstoy was announced, awaited his appearance with -beating heart; but she was profoundly disillusioned by the entrance -of a man of society manners, fashionably dressed in the latest style -of English tailoring, who began at once to tell with gusto of the -cock-fights and boxing-matches he had already managed to witness in -London. Not a single word with which she could sympathise did she -hear from Tolstoy throughout that one and only occasion on which she -was privileged to listen to his conversation; and in this she was -particularly unlucky, for Tolstoy saw Herzen very frequently during his -stay in London, and the two discussed all sorts of important questions -together. - -One of Herzen's closest friends and co-workers during his long -exile from Russia, was the poet N. P. Ogaryóf, who had been his -fellow-student at the Moscow University. Ogaryóf, besides being a man -of ability, possessed a very amiable character that greatly endeared -him to his friends; but in an essay entitled _The First Step_[43] -written in 1892, we get a glimpse of what alienated Tolstoy's sympathy -from the progressive movement these men represented. He there says: - - [43] In the volume _Essays and Letters_, included in the - _World's Classics_. - - I have just been reading the letters of one of our highly educated - and advanced men of the forties, the exile Ogaryóf, to another - yet more highly educated and gifted man, Herzen. In these letters - Ogaryóf gives expression to his sincere thoughts and highest - aspirations, and one cannot fail to see that--as was natural to - a young man--he rather shows off before his friend. He talks - of self-perfecting, of sacred friendship, love, the service of - science, of humanity, and the like. And at the same time he calmly - writes that he often irritates the companion of his life by, as he - expresses it, 'returning home in an unsober state, or disappearing - for many hours with a fallen, but dear creature.'... - - Evidently it never even occurred to this remarkably kind-hearted, - talented, and well-educated man that there was anything at all - objectionable in the fact that he, a married man, awaiting the - confinement of his wife (in his next letter he writes that his - wife has given birth to a child) returned home intoxicated, and - disappeared with dissolute women. It did not enter his head that - until he had commenced the struggle, and had at least to some - extent conquered his inclination to drunkenness and fornication, he - could not think of friendship and love, and still less of serving - any one or any thing. But he not only did not struggle against - these vices--he evidently thought there was something very nice in - them, and that they did not in the least hinder the struggle for - perfection; and therefore instead of hiding them from the friend in - whose eyes he wishes to appear in a good light, he exhibits them. - - Thus it was half a century ago. I was contemporary with such men. - I knew Ogaryóf and Herzen themselves and others of that stamp, and - men educated in the same traditions. There was a remarkable absence - of consistency in the lives of all these men. Together with a - sincere and ardent wish for good, there was an utter looseness of - personal desire, which, they thought, could not hinder the living - of a good life, nor the performance of good and even great deeds. - They put unkneaded loaves into a cold oven, and believed that bread - would be baked. And then, when with advancing years they began to - remark that the bread did not bake--_i.e._ that no good came of - their lives--they saw in this something peculiarly tragic. - -This was written twenty years later; but it was latent in his mind at -the time, and furnishes a clue to the fact that he never really made -friends with these men. - -Of Herzen as a writer Tolstoy ultimately came to have a very high -opinion, and admitted that he exerted a very considerable influence on -the mind of educated Russia. - -In England, as elsewhere, Tolstoy saw as much as he could of the -educational methods in vogue. He also visited the House of Commons and -heard Palmerston speak for three hours; but he told me he could form no -opinion of the oration, for 'at that time I knew English with my eyes -but not with my ears.' - -While in London, he received news that he had been nominated Arbiter of -the Peace for his own district, near Toúla. The duties of the office -were to settle disputes between the serfs and their former proprietors. -Except a short service on the Zémstvo in 1874, this was the only -official position in which Tolstoy ever took much active part after -leaving the army. - -On 3rd March (new style), the day of Alexander II's famous Manifesto -emancipating the serfs, Tolstoy left London for Russia _viâ_ Brussels. -In that city he made the acquaintance of Proudhon (the author of -_Qu'est-ce que la Propriété?_ and a _Systčme des Contradictions -Économiques_) to whom Herzen had given him a letter of introduction. -Proudhon impressed Tolstoy as a strong man who had the courage of -his opinions; and though Proudhon's theories had no immediate effect -on Tolstoy's life, the social political and economic views expounded -by the latter a quarter of a century later, are deeply dyed with -Proudhonism. Both writers consider that property is robbery; interest -immoral; peaceful anarchy the desirable culmination of social progress, -and that every man should be a law unto himself, restrained solely by -reason, conscience and moral suasion. Another writer whose acquaintance -Tolstoy made in Brussels was the Polish patriot Lelewel, who had -taken a prominent part in the rebellion of 1830, and had written on -Polish history and on many other subjects. He was at this time a -decrepit old man living in great poverty. While in Brussels Tolstoy -wrote _Polikoúshka_, almost the only story of his (besides _A Squire's -Morning_) that implies a condemnation of serfdom. - -Passing through Germany, Tolstoy stopped at Weimar, where he stayed -with the Russian Ambassador, Von Maltitz, and was introduced to the -Grand Duke Carl Alexander. Tolstoy (who had been reading Goethe's -_Reineke Fuchs_ not long before) visited the house in which Goethe had -lived, but was more interested in a Kindergarten conducted by Minna -Schelholm, who had been trained by Froebel. From another school he -visited, we hear of his collecting and carrying off the essays the -pupils had written, explaining to the master that he was much concerned -with the problem, 'How to make thought flow more freely.' - -At Jena he made acquaintance with a young mathematician named Keller, -whom he persuaded to accompany him to Yásnaya to help him in his -educational activities. He also stopped at Dresden, where he again -visited Auerbach, concerning whom he jots down in his Diary: - - _21 April, Dresden_: Auerbach is a most charming man. Has given me - a light.... He spoke of Christianity as the spirit of humanity, - than which there is nothing higher. He reads verse enchantingly. - Of Music as _Pflichtloser Genuss_ (dutyless pleasure).... He is 49 - years old. Straightforward, youthful, believing, not troubled by - negation. - -On another occasion Tolstoy expressed surprise at never having seen -Auerbach's _Village Tales of the Black Forest_ in any German peasant's -house, and declared that Russian peasants would have wept over such -stories. - -From Dresden he wrote to his Aunt Tatiána: - - [44] Je me porte bien et brűle d'envie de retourner en Russie. - Mais une fois en Europe et ne sachant quand j'y retournerai, - vous comprenez que j'ai voulu profiter, autant que possible, de - mon voyage. Et je crois l'avoir fait. Je rapporte une si grande - quantité d'impressions, de connaissances, que je devrai travailler - longtemps, avant de pouvoir mettre tout cela en ordre dans ma tęte. - - I am bringing with me a German from the University, to be a teacher - and clerk, a very nice, well-educated man, but still very young and - unpractical. - - [44] I am in good health and burn with desire to return to - Russia. But once in Europe and not knowing when I shall - return, you understand that I wanted to benefit as much as - possible by my travels. And I think I have done so. I am - bringing back such a great quantity of impressions and facts, - that I must work a long time before I can get it all in order - in my head. - - I am bringing with me a German from the University, to be a - teacher and clerk, a very nice, well-educated man, but still - very young and unpractical. - -He adds that he intends to return to Yásnaya _viâ_ St. Petersburg, as -he wants to obtain permission to publish an educational magazine he is -projecting. - -On 22nd April he was already in Berlin, where he made the acquaintance -of the head of the Teachers' Seminary, the son of the celebrated -pedagogue Diesterweg, whom, to his disappointment, he found to be 'a -cold, soulless pedant, who thinks he can develop and guide the souls of -children by rules and regulations.' - -On 23rd April (old style) he re-entered Russia, after a stay abroad of -nearly ten months. - -He brought with him complete editions of the works of several of the -greatest European writers. They were kept at the Custom House to be -submitted to the Censor, and, as Tolstoy plaintively remarked nearly -half a century later, 'he is still reading them!' - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VI - -Birukof. - -Bitovt. - -Fet, _Moi Vospominaniya_: Moscow, 1890. - -Tolstoy's _Confession_. - -Golovatcheva-Panaeva, _Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty_. - -Tourgenef, _Letters_. - -S. Plaksin, _Graf L. Tolstoy sredi detey_. - -Tolstoy's works, vol. iv.: Moscow, 1903. - -R. Löwenfeld, _Leo N. Tolstoj_. - -R. Löwenfeld, _Gespräche über und mit Tolstoy_. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - AT YÁSNAYA AGAIN; TOURGÉNEF; ARBITER; MAGAZINE - -Quarrel with Tourgénef. Attitude towards Reforms. Arbiter of the Peace. -Educational Magazine. - - -AFTER the winter's snow has so far thawed that sleighing is -impracticable, there comes a time during which there is still too much -snow left, and the roads have become too soft to allow of travelling -on wheels, and when transit is practically impossible. Tolstoy reached -Moscow at this transition period, but had not to wait long before -the roads were dry enough for carriage traffic. He made the journey -southward to Toúla in company with Mrs. Fet, wife of his friend the -poet. Mrs. Fet was travelling in her own carriage, accompanied by her -maid, to the estate Fet had purchased at some distance from Yásnaya. -Tolstoy had his own conveyance, but for company's sake changed places -with the maid and travelled with Mrs. Fet. In the cool of the evening -he borrowed and wrapped himself in a cloak of Fet's, declaring that -this would be sure to result in his producing a lyric poem. - - -1861 - -Soon after reaching Yásnaya he wrote (in the third week of May) to -congratulate Fet on having become a landed proprietor: - - How long it is since we met, and how much has happened to both - of us meanwhile! I do not know how to rejoice sufficiently when - I hear or think of your activity as a farmer, and I am rather - proud to have had at least some hand in the matter.... It is good - to have a friend; but he may die or go away, or one may not be - able to keep pace with him; but Nature, to which one is wedded by - a Notarial Deed, or to which one has been born by inheritance, is - still better. It is one's own bit of Nature. She is cold, obdurate, - disdainful and exacting, but then she is a friend one does not - lose till death, and even then one will be absorbed into her. I - am however at present less devoted to this friend: I have other - affairs that attract me; yet but for the consciousness that she is - there, and that if I stumble she is at hand to hold on to--life - would be but a sad business. - -A few days later, having received an invitation from Tourgénef, Tolstoy -paid him a visit the first hours of which passed off to their mutual -satisfaction. Tourgénef had just finished his favourite novel, _Fathers -and Sons_, and it was arranged that after dinner Tolstoy was to read it -and give his opinion on it. To do this the more comfortably, Tolstoy, -left in the drawing-room by himself, lay down on a large sofa. He began -to read; but the story seemed to him so artificially constructed and so -unimportant in its subject-matter, that he fell fast asleep. - -'I awoke,' he narrates, 'with a strange sensation, and when I opened my -eyes I saw Tourgénef's back just disappearing.' - -In spite of this occurrence and the unpleasant feeling it occasioned, -the two novelists set out next morning to visit Fet, who was not -expecting them that day. - -While the visitors rested for a couple of hours, recovering from the -fatigue of their journey, Mrs. Fet saw to it that the dinner assumed 'a -more substantial and inviting appearance.' During the meal the whole -party began an animated conversation, and Tourgénef, always fond of -good eating, fully appreciated the efforts Fet's excellent man-cook had -made. Champagne flowed, as was usual at such reunions. After dinner the -three friends strolled to a wood a couple of hundred yards from the -house, and lying down in the high grass at its outskirts, continued -their talk with yet more freedom and animation. - -Next morning at the usual breakfast time, about eight o'clock, the -visitors entered the room where Mrs. Fet presided at the samovár. -Fet sat at the opposite end of the table, Tourgénef at the hostess's -right hand, and Tolstoy at her left. Knowing the importance Tourgénef -attached to the education of his natural daughter, who was being -brought up in France, Mrs. Fet inquired whether he was satisfied -with her English governess. Tourgénef praised the latter highly, and -mentioned that, with English exactitude, she had requested him to fix -the sum his daughter might give away in charity. 'And now,' added -Tourgénef, 'she requires my daughter to take in hand and mend the -tattered clothes of the poor.' - -To Tolstoy, the foreign education Tourgénef was giving his daughter, -who was quite forgetting her own language, was very distasteful; and -his feeling no doubt showed itself in his question: - -'And you consider that good?' - -'Certainly: it places the doer of charity in touch with everyday needs.' - -'And I consider that a well-dressed girl with dirty, ill-smelling rags -on her lap, is acting an insincere, theatrical farce.' - -'I beg you not to say that!' exclaimed Tourgénef, with dilated nostrils. - -'Why should I not say what I am convinced is true?' replied Tolstoy. - -'Then you consider that I educate my daughter badly?' - -Tolstoy replied that his thought corresponded to his speech. - -Before Fet could interpose, Tourgénef, white with rage, exclaimed: 'If -you speak in that way I will punch your head!' and, jumping up from -the table and seizing his head in his hands, he rushed into the next -room. A second later he returned and, addressing Mrs. Fet, said: 'For -heaven's sake excuse my improper conduct, which I deeply regret!' and -again left the room. - -Fet, realising the impossibility of keeping his visitors together after -what had happened, was perplexed what to do, for they had both arrived -in Tourgénef's vehicle, and, newly established in the country, Fet, -though he had horses, had none accustomed to be driven in the only -conveyance he possessed. To get Tourgénef off was easy; but it was -not without some difficulty and even danger from the restive horses, -that Tolstoy was conveyed to the nearest post-station at which a hired -conveyance could be procured. - -From Novosélok, the first country house Tolstoy reached, he wrote -Tourgénef a letter demanding an apology; and asked for an answer to be -sent to the next post-house at Bogousláf. Tourgénef, not noticing this -request, sent his reply to Fet's house, in consequence of which it was -several hours late in reaching Tolstoy--who was so enraged at this (as -it seemed to him) fresh act of discourtesy, that from Bogousláf he sent -a messenger to procure pistols, and wrote a second letter containing a -challenge to Tourgénef, and stating that he did not wish to fight in a -merely formal manner, like literary men who finish up with champagne, -but that he was in earnest, and hoped Tourgénef would meet him with -pistols at the outskirt of the Bogousláf woods. - -That night was a sleepless one for Tolstoy. The morning brought -Tourgénef's reply to his first letter. It commenced in the usual formal -manner of polite communications: - - GRACIOUS SIR, LEO NIKOLÁYEVITCH!--In reply to your letter, I can - only repeat, what I myself considered it my duty to announce to you - at Fet's: namely, that carried away by a feeling of involuntary - enmity, the causes of which need not here be considered, I insulted - you without any definite provocation; and I asked your pardon. What - happened this morning proved clearly that attempts at intimacy - between such opposite natures as yours and mine can lead to no good - result; and I the more readily fulfil my duty to you, because the - present letter probably terminates our relations with one another. - I heartily hope it may satisfy you, and I consent in advance to - your making what use you please of it. - - With perfect respect, I have the honour to remain, Gracious Sir, - your most humble servant, - - IV. TOURGÉNEF. - - SPÁSSKY, _27 May 1861_. - - _P.S._ 10.30 P.M.: - - Iván Petróvitch has just brought back my letter, which my servant - stupidly sent to Novosélok instead of to Bogousláf. I humbly beg - you to excuse this accidental and regrettable mistake, and I hope - my messenger will still find you at Bogousláf. - -Tolstoy thereupon wrote to Fet: - - I could not resist opening another letter from Mr. Tourgénef in - reply to mine. I wish you well of your relations with that man, - but I despise him. I have written to him, and therewith have - terminated all relations, except that I hold myself ready to give - him any satisfaction he may desire. Notwithstanding all my apparent - tranquillity, I was disturbed in spirit and felt I must demand a - more explicit apology from Mr. Tourgénef; I did this in my letter - from Novosélok. Here is his answer, which I accept as satisfactory, - merely informing him that my reason for excusing him is not our - opposite natures, but one he may himself surmise. - - In consequence of the delay which occurred, I sent besides this, - another letter, harsh enough and containing a challenge, to which - I have not received any reply; but should I receive one I shall - return it unopened. So there is an end of that sad story, which, if - it goes beyond your house, should do so with this addendum. - -Tourgénef's reply to the challenge came to hand later, and ran as -follows: - - Your servant says you desire a reply to your letter; but I do not - see what I can add to what I have already written; unless it be - that I admit your right to demand satisfaction, weapons in hand. - You have preferred to accept my spoken and repeated apology. That - was as you pleased. I will say without phrases, that I would - willingly stand your fire in order to efface my truly insane words. - That I should have uttered them is so unlike the habits of my whole - life, that I can only attribute my action to irritability evoked by - the extreme and constant antagonism of our views. This is not an - apology--I mean to say, not a justification--but an explanation. - And therefore, at parting from you for ever--for such occurrences - are indelible and irrevocable--I consider it my duty to repeat once - again that in this affair you were in the right and I in the wrong. - I add that what is here in question is not the courage I wish, or - do not wish, to show, but an acknowledgment of your right to call - me out to fight, in the accepted manner of course (with seconds), - as well as your right to pardon me. You have chosen as you pleased, - and I have only to submit to your decision. I renew my assurance of - my entire respect, - - IV. TOURGÉNEF. - -The quarrel was not, however, destined to die out so quickly. Even -good-natured Fet got into trouble by trying to reconcile the irascible -novelists. Here is one of the notes he received from Tolstoy: - - I request you not to write to me again, as I shall return your - letters, as well as Tourgénef's, unopened. - -Fet remarks: 'So all my attempts to put the matter right ended in a -formal rupture of my relations with Tolstoy, and I cannot now even -remember how friendly intercourse between us was renewed.' - -Before four months had passed, Tolstoy repented him of his quarrel. -Like Prince Nehlúdof in _Resurrection_, he used from time to time to -repent of all his sins and all his quarrels, and undertook a sort -of spring- or autumn-cleaning of his soul. It was at such a moment -that, on 25th September, he wrote to Tourgénef expressing regret that -their relations to one another were hostile, and he added: 'If I have -insulted you, forgive me; I find it unendurably hard to think I have -an enemy.' Not knowing Tourgénef's address in France, he sent this -letter to a bookseller in Petersburg (with whom he knew Tourgénef -corresponded) to be forwarded. The letter took more than three months -to reach its destination, nor was this the only thing that went wrong, -as is shown by the following portion of a letter, dated 8th November, -from Tourgénef to Fet: - - Apropos, 'one more last remark' about the unfortunate affair - with Tolstoy. Passing through Petersburg I learned from certain - 'reliable people' (Oh, those reliable people!) that copies of - Tolstoy's last letter to me (the letter in which he 'despises' me) - are circulating in Moscow, and are said to have been distributed - by Tolstoy himself. That enraged me, and I sent him a challenge - to fight when I return to Russia. Tolstoy has answered that the - circulation of the copies is pure invention, and he encloses - another letter in which, recapitulating that, and how, I insulted - him, he asks my forgiveness and declines my challenge. Of course - the matter must end there, and I will only ask you to tell him (for - he writes that he will consider any fresh communication from me to - him as an insult) that I myself repudiate any duel, etc., and hope - the whole matter is buried for ever. His letter (apologising) I - have destroyed. Another letter, which he says he sent me through - the bookseller Davídof, I never received. And now as to the whole - matter--_de profundis_. - -Tolstoy noted in his Diary one day in October: - - Yesterday I received a letter from Tourgénef in which he accuses me - of saying he is a coward and of circulating copies of my letter. I - have written him that it is nonsense, and I have also sent him a - letter: 'You call my action dishonourable and you formerly wished - to punch my head; but I consider myself guilty, ask pardon, and - refuse the challenge.' - - -1862 - -Even then the matter was not at an end, for on 7th January [new style?] -Tourgénef writes to Fet: - - And now a plain question: Have you seen Tolstoy? I have only to-day - received the letter he sent me in September through Davídof's - bookshop (how accurate are our Russian merchants!). In this letter - he speaks of his intention to insult me, and apologises, etc. And - almost at that very time, in consequence of some gossip about - which I think I wrote you, I sent him a challenge. From all this - one must conclude that our constellations move through space in - definitely hostile conjunction, and that therefore we had better, - as he himself says, avoid meeting. But you may write or tell him - (if you see him) that I (without phrase or joke) _from afar_ love - him very much, respect him and watch his fate with sympathetic - interest; but that in proximity all takes a different turn. What's - to be done? We must live as though we inhabited different planets - or different centuries. - -Tolstoy evidently took umbrage at Tourgénef's message, and visited his -wrath on Fet's innocent head. To be profoundly humble and forgiving -at his own command, was always, it seems, easier for Tolstoy than to -let his opponent have an opinion of his own. Tolstoy likes things to -be quite clear-cut and definite, and it complicates matters to have to -reckon with any one else's views. At any rate Tourgénef writes: - - PARIS, _14 Jan. [o.s.?] 1862_. - - DEAREST AFANÁSY AFANÁSYEVITCH! [Fet's Christian name and - patronymic].--First of all I must ask your pardon for the quite - unexpected tile (_tuile_, as the French say) that tumbled on - your head as a result of my letter. The one thing which somewhat - consoles me is that I could not possibly have expected such a freak - on Tolstoy's part, and thought I was arranging all for the best. It - seems it is a wound of a kind better not touched at all. - -To judge the relations between these two great writers fairly, one must -remember that Tourgénef was ten years the elder and, until _War and -Peace_ appeared, ranked higher in popular esteem; yet Tolstoy showed -him no deference, but on the contrary often attacked him and his views -with mordant irony. Tourgénef was neither ill-natured nor quarrelsome. -If Tolstoy had treated him with consideration or had been willing to -let him alone, there would have been no question either of insult or -of challenge. But the younger man sought the elder's company, and -then made himself disagreeable; and this, not of malice prepense, -but because it is his nature to demand perfection from great men, and -vehemently to attack those who fail to reach the standard he sets up. -This conduct was no doubt all the more trying for Tourgénef, because -Tolstoy neither co-operated with the Liberal movement then current, nor -lived more abstemiously with regard to food, wine, women, and cards -than others of his set whom he scolded; or if he did so, he did it so -spasmodically and with such serious lapses, as to be little entitled -to condemn others with the fervour he frequently displayed. On the -occasion of the great quarrel Tourgénef was certainly the aggressor, -and his prompt apology was not addressed to Tolstoy, whom he had -chiefly offended, but to Mrs. Fet. It is, however, plain that he acted, -as he said, on the irritable impulse of the moment. Tolstoy aggravated -matters by sending a challenge before receiving a reply to his first -letter, and also by suggesting that he despised Tourgénef and pardoned -him for reasons 'he may himself surmise.' Again, in relation to Fet, -who merely wished to pour oil on the troubled waters, Tolstoy showed a -strange irritability. No one however can read the _Recollections_ Fet -wrote thirty years later, without seeing that that poet--who not only -witnessed this affair, but had been the confidant of both writers for -years--respected Tolstoy far more than he respected Tourgénef. - -In this whole story, one may detect traces of the qualities which have -made Tolstoy so interesting and so perplexing a personality. He cares -intensely about everything with which he is occupied. Tourgénef, and -Tourgénef's opinions and conduct, were of tremendous importance to him. -So were his own views of how young ladies should be brought up. So was -the question whether he ought to challenge his enemy; and, later on, -the question whether he ought to forgive him, and whether Fet should -be allowed to act as mediator. It is this fact--that he cares about -things a hundred times more than other people care about them--that -makes Tolstoy a genius and a great writer. What was admirable in his -conduct was not that he acted well (as a matter of fact he acted very -badly) but that he _wished_ to act well. - -The same spirit which made him so intolerant with Tourgénef: his -strong feeling that 'To whom much is given, of him much shall be -required'--had something to do, later in life, with his fierce -attacks on Governments, on Shakespear, on Wagner, and on other great -institutions and men. At the same time, the incident throws light on -that side of Tolstoy's character which has brought it about that, -despite the very real charm he possesses, and despite the fact that -many men and women have been immensely attracted by his writings, -he has had very few intimate friends, and has constantly been -misunderstood. - -V. P. Bótkin, who was in touch both with Tolstoy and Tourgénef, wrote -to Fet after hearing of the quarrel: - - The scene between him [Tourgénef] and Tolstoy at your house, - produced on me a sad impression. But do you know, I believe that in - reality Tolstoy has a passionately loving soul; only he wants to - love Tourgénef ardently, and unfortunately his impulsive feeling - encounters merely mild, good-natured indifference. That is what he - cannot reconcile himself to. And then (again unfortunately) his - mind is in a chaos, _i.e._ I wish to say it has not yet reached - any definite outlook on life and the world's affairs. That is - why his conviction changes so often, and why he is so apt to - run to extremes. His soul burns with unquenchable thirst; I say - 'unquenchable,' because what satisfied it yesterday, is to-day - broken up by his analysis. But that analysis has no durable and - firm reagents, and consequently its results evaporate _ins blaue - hinein_. Without some firm ground under one's feet it is impossible - to write. And that is why at present he _cannot_ write, and this - will continue to be the case till his soul finds something on which - it can rest. - -To any one acquainted with the history of Russia at that period, but -not acquainted with Tolstoy's idiosyncrasies, it must indeed seem -strange that the story of his life can be told with so little reference -to the Emancipation or the Reform movements of the years 1860-1864, to -which allusion has already been made. Two passages written by him in -1904 state his relation to those movements with the sincerity which is -so prominent and valuable a feature of his character: - - As to my attitude at that time to the excited condition of our - whole society, I must say (and this is a good and bad trait always - characteristic of me) that I always involuntarily opposed any - external, epidemic pressure; and that if I was excited and happy - at that time, this proceeded from my own personal, inner motives: - those which drew me to my school work and into touch with the - peasants. - - I recognise in myself now the same feeling of resistance to the - excitement at present prevailing; which resembles that which, in a - more timid form, was then current. - -When the Emancipation came, the peasants received freedom, and an -allotment of land, subject to a special land-tax for sixty years; while -their masters retained the rest of the land and received State Bonds -for the capitalised value of the peasants' land-tax. An expedient -resorted to by many a proprietor was, to allot land to the peasants -in such a way that the latter were left without any pasture, and -(being surrounded by the owner's estate) found themselves obliged -to hire pasture land of him on his own terms. There were, till the -Emancipation, two ways of holding serfs: (1) the primitive way of -obliging them to work so many days a week for their master, before they -could, on the other days, provide for their own wants; and (2) another -way, which left the serf free to work for himself, provided that he -paid _obrók_, _i.e._ a certain yearly tribute to his owner. These -explanations will render intelligible the second passage referred to -above and quoted below: - - Some three or four years before the Emancipation, I let my serfs go - on _obrók_. When complying with the Emancipation Decree I arranged, - as the law required, to leave the peasants in possession of the - land they were cultivating on their own behalf, which amounted - to rather less than eight acres per head, and (to my shame be it - said) I added nothing thereto. The only thing I did--or the one - evil I refrained from doing--was that I abstained from obliging the - peasants to exchange land (as I was advised to do) and left them in - possession of the pasture they needed. In general, however, I did - not show any disinterested feeling in the affair. - -In the first edition of _Tolstoy and his Problems_ I erroneously stated -that Tolstoy, before the Decree of Emancipation, voluntarily freed -his serfs; and though this was corrected in the second edition, it is -necessary to repeat the correction here, as the same mistake occurs in -the article on Tolstoy in the _Encyclopćdia Britannica_. I therefore -quote the following passage from a letter he wrote me on the subject: - - I have received your book and read it with pleasure. The short - biography is excellent, except the place where you, quoting the - words of Sophia Andréyevna, say that 'he liberated his peasants - before the Emancipation.' That is wrong: I placed them on _obrók_ - instead of keeping them on _bárstchina_ [_i.e._ the state in which - the peasants rendered labour dues]. It would not have been possible - to emancipate them.... - - -1861 - -Tolstoy's curious tendency to underrate the influence of the Liberal -reformers of that time, may be illustrated by an incident that occurred -at a dinner in Toúla. The local elections had taken place, and a public -banquet was given in honour of those Arbiters of the Peace who were -visiting the town. Tolstoy was at this dinner, and when the toast -to the health of Alexander II, the 'Tsar-Liberator,' was proposed, -Tolstoy remarked to his neighbour: 'I drink this toast with particular -pleasure. No others are needed, for in reality we owe the Emancipation -to the Emperor alone.' - -A yet more curious instance of the same tendency occurs in an article -on _Progress, and the Definition of Education_, which he published a -year later, and in which, arguing that printing has been of little use -to the people, he says that: - - Even taking as an example the abolition of serfdom, I do not see - that printing helped the solution of the problem in a progressive - sense. Had the Government not said its decisive word in that - affair, the press would, beyond a doubt, have explained matters - in quite a different way to what it did. We saw that most of the - periodicals would have demanded the emancipation of the peasants - without any land, and would have produced arguments apparently just - as reasonable, witty and sarcastic [as they actually produced in - favour of the more Liberal solution ultimately adopted].... - -If, however, Tolstoy did not stand in the ranks of the Reformers, -he was much less of a partisan of his own class than many of his -fellow-nobles desired; and we find the Marshal of the Nobility of Toúla -writing to Valoúef, Minister of Home Affairs, complaining of Tolstoy's -appointment as Arbiter of the Peace on the ground that he was disliked -by the neighbouring landowners. In consequence of this complaint -Valoúef made inquiries, and received a 'confidential' reply from the -Governor of the Province, stating that: - - Knowing Count Tolstoy personally, as an educated man warmly - sympathising with the matter in hand, and in view of a wish - expressed to me by some of the proprietors of the district that he - should be appointed Arbiter, I cannot replace him by some one I do - not know. - -Tolstoy tried his best to act fairly between peasants and landowners; -but from the start his unsuitability for duties involving methodical -care was obvious. - -The very first 'charter,' regulating the relations between a landlord -and his newly-liberated peasants, that he sent up to the Government -Board for Peasant Affairs, was signed as follows: 'At the request of -such-and-such peasants, because of their illiteracy, the house-serf -so-and-so has signed this charter for them.' Not a single name did the -charter contain! As Tolstoy had dictated the words, so his servant had -written them down, and the charter had been sealed and sent off without -being read over. - -He could at times be wonderfully patient in dealing with the peasants, -though they were exasperatingly pertinacious in demanding more than -it was possible to grant. An eye-witness tells how Tolstoy visited -a neighbouring estate on which differences had arisen between the -peasants and their former master, as to the land which should be -allotted to them. Tolstoy received a deputation, consisting of three of -the leading peasants of the village, and asked them: - -'Well, lads, what do you want?' - -They explained what land they wished to have, and Tolstoy replied, 'I -am very sorry I can't do what you wish. Were I to do so I should cause -your landlord a great loss'; and he proceeded to explain to them how -the matter stood. - -'But you'll manage it for us somehow, _bátushka_' [literally, -'little-father'], said the peasants. - -'No, I can't do anything of the kind,' repeated Tolstoy. - -The peasants glanced at one another, scratched their heads, and -reiterated their 'But somehow, _bátushka_!' and one of them added, 'If -only you want to, _bátushka_, you'll know how to find a way to do it!' -at which the other peasants nodded their heads approvingly. - -Tolstoy crossed himself, as orthodox Russians are wont to do, and -said: 'As God is holy, I swear that I can be of no use at all to -you.' But still the peasants repeated: 'You'll take pity on us, and -do it somehow, _bátushka_!' Tolstoy at last turned vehemently to the -steward, who was present, and said: 'One can sooner, like Amphion, move -the hills and woods, than convince peasants of anything!' - -The whole conversation, says the steward, lasted more than an hour, -and up to the last minute the Count retained his patient and friendly -manner towards the peasants. Their obstinacy did not provoke him to -utter a single harsh word. - -With the landowners Tolstoy had even more trouble than with the -peasants. He received many threatening letters, plans were formed -to have him beaten, he was to have been challenged to a duel; and -denunciations against him were sent to those in authority. - -After some three months of the work, in July 1861, he jotted down in -his Diary: 'Arbitration has given me but little material [for literary -work], has brought me into conflict with all the landed-proprietors, -and has upset my health.' - -Here is a sample of the cases he had to deal with. A Mrs. Artukóf -complained that a certain Mark Grigóref (who had been a house-serf, and -was therefore not entitled to land) had left her, considering himself -to be 'perfectly free.' - -Tolstoy, in his reply to the lady, said: - - Mark, by my order, is at liberty to go immediately, with his - wife, where he likes; and I beg you (1) to compensate him for the - three-and-a-half months he has been illegally kept at work by you - since the Decree was published, and (2) for the blows still more - illegally inflicted on his wife. If my decision displeases you, - you have a right of appeal to the Magistrates' Sessions and to the - Government Sessions. I shall not enter into further explanations - on this subject.--With entire respect I have the honour to remain, - your humble servant, - - C^{t.} L. TOLSTOY. - -The lady appealed to the Magistrates' Sessions, and Tolstoy's decision -was annulled; but on the case being carried to the Government Sessions, -his view of the case prevailed. - -Before he had been a year in office we find him writing to the -Government of the Toúla Board of Peasant Affairs as follows: - - As the complaints [here follows a list of several cases] lodged - against my decisions have no legal justification, but yet in these - and many other cases my decisions have been and are being repealed, - so that almost every decision I give is subsequently reversed; and - as under such conditions--destructive both of the peasants' and - the landowners' confidence in the Arbiter--the latter's activity - becomes not merely useless but impossible, I humbly request the - Government Board to authorise one of its members to hasten the - examination of the above-mentioned appeals, and I have to inform - the Government Board that until such investigations are completed - I do not consider it proper that I should exercise the duties of - my office, which I have, therefore, handed over to the senior - Candidate. - -The following month he resumed official work, but six weeks later, -on 30th April 1862, on the score of ill-health, he handed the duties -over to a substitute; and on 26th May--about a year after he had first -assumed the office--the Senate informed the Governor of Toúla that -it 'had decided to discharge the Lieutenant of Artillery, Count Leo -Tolstoy, on the ground of ill-health' from the post of Arbiter of the -Peace. - -His unsatisfactory experience of administrative work no doubt helps to -account for the anti-Governmental bias shown in his later works. Even -at this time, he quite shared the dislike of civil and criminal law -expressed by Rousseau when he wrote in his _Confession_: - - The justice and the inutility of my appeals left in my mind a germ - of indignation against our stupid civil institutions, in which the - true welfare of the public, and veritable justice, are always - sacrificed to I know not what apparent order, really destructive of - all order, and which merely adds the sanction of public authority - to the oppression of the weak and the iniquity of the strong. - -We may at any rate be sure that tiresome, petty administrative work, -never quite satisfactory, but at best consisting of compromises and of -decisions based on necessity rather than on such principles of abstract -justice as are dear to Tolstoy's soul, could never be an occupation -satisfactory to him. He has not the plodding patience and studious -moderation that such work demands; nor could his impulsive genius find -scope in it. It has never been easy for him to be checked by others, -or to have to reckon with their opinions and wishes. Like Rousseau, it -suits him better to reform the world on paper, or even to alter his own -personal habits of life, than to concern himself with the slow social -progress, the bit-by-bit amelioration, which alone is possible to those -harnessed to the car that carries a whole society of men. - -Tolstoy used at this time to find recreation in hunting, and often -went out for days together with his friend and relation Prince D. D. -Obolénsky, who describes him as having been a bold and active hunter, -leaping all sorts of obstacles, and a wonderful man to talk to. - -Concurrently with his duties as Arbiter, Tolstoy had been carrying on -an enterprise in which he had to deal with people younger and more easy -to mould than the peasants and proprietors whose quarrels he found -it so hard to adjust; and during the winter of 1861-1862 he devoted -himself with especial fervour to the task of educating the peasant -children of Yásnaya and the surrounding district. - -As we have already seen, a chief aim of his travels abroad had been -to study the theory and practice of education; and not only did -he now personally devote himself to the school at Yásnaya, but in -the surrounding neighbourhood eleven similar schools were soon -started, all more or less inspired by his ideals and encouraged by -his co-operation. The monthly magazine, _Yásnaya Polyána_ (now a -bibliographical rarity) which he produced and edited during 1862, aimed -at propagating his theories of education and making known the results -attained in his school, and it also contained an account of sums -voluntarily contributed for its support. From articles published in it -(and republished in his collected writings) we get a vivid description -of the work carried on in November and December 1861.[45] Like many -Russian magazines, _Yásnaya Polyána_ always appeared late, and, to -begin with, the January number was several weeks behind time. - - [45] In one edition after another of Tolstoy's works, the - article referred to above is called 'Yásno-Polyána School in - Nov. and Dec. 1862,' though the article itself appeared in the - first number of _Yásnaya Polyána_, in February of that year. - In small matters of detail of this kind, Tolstoy has always - been careless. - -In this educational work, Tolstoy showed the qualities and limitations -which in later years marked all his propagandist activity. There was -the same characteristic selection of a task of great importance; the -same readiness to sweep aside and condemn nearly all that civilised -humanity had accomplished up to then; the same assurance that he could -untie the Gordian knot; and the same power of devoted genius enabling -him really to achieve much more than one would have supposed possible, -though not a tithe of what he set himself to do. - -In later life Tolstoy laid no particular emphasis on what he wrote -in these educational articles: in fact, we shall find him sometimes -speaking very scornfully of them; but they throw so much light on his -then state of mind, and often come so near to the views he strongly -advocated twenty or thirty years later, that it will be worth devoting -a good deal of attention to them. - -Tolstoy, then, defines Education as: _a human activity, aving for its -basis a desire for equality, and the constant tendency to advance in -knowledge_. This he illustrates by saying that the aim of a teacher -of arithmetic should be to enable his pupil to grasp all the laws of -mathematical reasoning he himself is master of; the aim of a teacher -of French, or chemistry, or philosophy, should be similar; and as soon -as that aim is attained, the activity will naturally cease. Everywhere -and always, teaching which makes the pupil the master's equal, has been -considered good. The more nearly and rapidly this is accomplished, the -better; the less nearly and more slowly it is accomplished, the worse. -Similarly in literature (an indirect method of teaching) those books -are written best, in which the author succeeds in transmitting his -whole message most easily to the reader. - -By 'the constant tendency to advance in knowledge,' Tolstoy meant -that the equality aimed at in education can only be obtained on the -higher, and not on the lower, level: that is to say, not by the teacher -forgetting what he knows, but by the pupil acquiring the teacher's -knowledge. Much tuition however is based not on the desire to equalise -knowledge, but on quite false foundations. - -These are: (1) First and commonest, the child learns in order not to be -punished; (2) the child learns in order to earn a reward; (3) the child -learns in order to be better than others; (4) the child, or young man, -learns in order to obtain an advantageous position in the world.... - -With reference to the practice of sending boys to school, not for their -natural development, but that they may be moulded into a set form, -Tolstoy declares that 'Education, as a deliberate moulding of people -into certain forms, is _sterile, illegitimate, and impossible_.' - -Of examinations he strongly disapproves, as tending to arbitrariness on -the side of the examiners, and deception on the side of the pupils. - -Under what circumstances, asks Tolstoy, can a pupil acquire knowledge -most rapidly? 'A child or a man is receptive only when he is aroused; -and therefore to regard a merry spirit in school as an enemy or a -hindrance, is the crudest of blunders. - -The pupil's state of mind is the most important condition of successful -education; and to secure good results, freedom is indispensable. No -child should be forced to learn what it does not want to, or when it -does not wish to. - - One need only glance at one and the same child at home or in the - street, and at school. Here you see a vivacious, inquisitive being, - with a smile in his eye and on his mouth, seeking information - everywhere as a pleasure, and clearly, and often forcibly, - expressing his thoughts in his own way; while there you see a - weary, shrinking creature repeating, merely with his lips, some one - else's thoughts in some one else's words, with an air of fatigue, - fear and listlessness: a creature whose soul has retreated like a - snail into its shell. One need but glance at these two conditions - to see which of them is the more conducive to the child's - development. That strange physiological condition which I call the - 'School state of mind,' and which unfortunately we all know so - well, consists in all the higher capacities: imagination, creative - power and reflection, yielding place to a semi-animal capacity to - pronounce words without imagination or reflection. - -When the pupils have been reduced to this 'School state of mind' we -encounter those 'not accidental, but often-repeated cases,' of the -stupidest boy being at the top of the class, and the cleverest boy at -the bottom. - -In short, a child's mental capacities are really active only when that -child is free; and the teacher's chief task lies 'in studying the free -child' and discovering how to supply him with knowledge. Therefore -'the only method of education is experiment, and its only criterion is -_freedom_.' - -The attempts to enforce obedience and quiet in school-rooms, converts -schools into places of torture which have a stupefying effect, well -called by the Germans _Verdummen_. - - In Germany nine-tenths of those who pass through the primary - schools leave them possessed of an ability to read and write - mechanically, but imbued with so strong a loathing for the - experience they have had of the paths of knowledge, that they - subsequently never take a book in their hands. Let those who - doubt what I say, point out to me what books are read by the - labourers.... No one who will seriously consider the education of - the people, not only in Russia but also in the rest of Europe, can - help coming to the conclusion that the people get their mental - development quite independently of a knowledge of reading and - writing, and that usually, except in a few cases of exceptional - ability, these rudiments remain a quite unapplied art--which is - even harmful, since nothing in life can remain indifferent.... - - * * * * * - - Schools are not so arranged as to make it convenient for children - to learn, but so as to make it convenient for teachers to teach. - The voices, movements and mirth of the children, which form a - necessary condition of their studying successfully, incommode the - teachers, and therefore in the prison-like schools of to-day, - questions, conversation, and movement are forbidden. - -Schools based on compulsion, supply 'not a shepherd for the flock, but -a flock for the shepherd.' - - - * * * * * - - To deal successfully with any object, it is necessary to study it, - and in education the object is a free child; yet the pedagogues - wish to teach in their own way--the way that seems good in their - own eyes; and when this does not act, they want not to alter their - way of teaching but the nature of the child. ...Not till experiment - becomes the basis of the School, and every school is, so to say, a - pedagogic laboratory, will schools cease to lag behind the general - level of the world's progress. - -For boarding-schools Tolstoy had scant respect: - - At home all the comforts of life--water, fires, good food, a - well-cooked dinner, the cleanliness and comfort of the rooms--all - depended on the work and care of the mother and of the whole - family. The more work and care, the greater the comfort; the less - work and care, the less comfort. A simple matter this no doubt, but - more educational I think, than the French language or a knowledge - of Alexander the Great. In a boarding-school, this constant vital - reward for labour is so put out of sight, that not only is the - dinner no better or worse, the napkins no cleaner or dirtier, and - the floors no brighter or duller, because of the girl's exertion - or non-exertion, but she has not even a cell or corner of her own - to keep straight or leave untidy at her pleasure, and she has no - chance of making a costume for herself out of scraps and ribbons. - -His general charge against day-schools, boarding-schools and -universities alike is that: - - At the base of them all lies one and the same principle: the right - of one man, or of a small group of men, to shape other people as - they like. - -He adds that: - - It is not enough for School to tear children away from real life - for six hours a day during the best years of their life: it wishes - to tear three-year-old children from their mother's influence. - Institutions have been contrived (_Kleinkinderbervahranstalten_, - infant schools, _salles d'asile_) about which we shall have - to speak more in detail later on. It only remains to invent a - steam-engine which will replace the nursing mother! All agree that - schools are imperfect; I, personally, am convinced that they are - noxious. - -He argues that no man or set of men has any right to force any -particular kind of education on any one else. The teacher has no right -to do more than offer such knowledge as he possesses, and he should -respect the child's right to reject it as indigestible, or as badly -served up: - - On what grounds does the School of to-day teach this and not that, - and in this and not that way? - - Where, in our day, can we get such faith in the indubitability - of our knowledge as would give us a right to educate people - compulsorily? Take any medieval school, before or after Luther, - take the whole scholastic literature of the Middle Ages, what a - strength of belief and what a firm, indubitable knowledge of what - was true and what was false, we see in them! It was easy for them - to know that a knowledge of Greek was the one essential condition - of education; for Aristotle's works were in Greek, and no one - doubted the truth of his propositions till centuries later. How - could the monks help demanding the study of the Holy Scriptures, - which stood on an immovable foundation? It was well for Luther - to demand the compulsory study of Hebrew, being sure, as he was, - that in that language God himself has revealed the truth to man. - Evidently, as long as man's critical sense was not aroused, the - school had to be dogmatic; and it was natural for pupils to learn - by heart the truths revealed by God, as well as Aristotle's science - and the poetic beauties of Virgil and Cicero. For centuries after, - no one could imagine any truer truth, or more beautiful beauty. - But what is the position of the schools of our time, which retain - these same dogmatic principles, while in the room next the class - where the immortality of the soul is taught, it is suggested to the - pupils that the nerves common to man and to the frog are what was - formerly called 'the soul'; and where after hearing the story of - Joshua the son of Nun read to him without explanations, the pupil - learns that the sun never did go round the earth; and when after - the beauties of Virgil have been explained to him, he finds the - beauties of Alexandre Dumas (whose novels he can buy for sixpence) - much greater; when the only belief held by the teacher is that - nothing is true, but that whatever exists is reasonable; and that - progress is good and backwardness bad, though nobody knows in what - this progress, that is so generally believed in, consists? - -In another article he says: - - Luther insists on teaching the Holy Scriptures from the originals, - and not from the commentaries of the Fathers of the Church. Bacon - enjoins the study of Nature from Nature, and not from the books - of Aristotle. Rousseau wants to teach life from life itself as - he understands it, and not from previous experiments. Each step - forward in the philosophy of pedagogics merely consists in freeing - the schools from the idea of teaching the younger generations what - the elder generations believed to be science, and in substituting - studies that accord with the needs of the younger generations. - -Again, he says - - It is very usual to read and hear it said that the home conditions, - the coarseness of parents, field labour, village games and so - forth, are the chief hindrances to school-work. Possibly they - really interfere with the kind of school-work aimed at by the - pedagogues; but it is time we understood that those conditions - are the chief bases of all education, and far from being inimical - to, or hindrances of the School, are its first and chief motive - power.... The wish to know anything whatever, and the very - questions to which it is the School's business to reply, arise - entirely from these home conditions. All instruction should - be simply a reply to questions put by life. But School, far - from evoking questions, fails even to answer those which life - suggests.... To such questions the child receives no reply; more - especially as the police regulations of the School do not allow him - to open his mouth, even when he wants to be let out for a minute, - but obliges him to make signs in order not to break the silence or - disturb the teacher. - -The great questions, Tolstoy says, are: (1) What must I teach? and (2) -How must I teach it? He remarks that a couple of centuries ago, neither -in Russia nor in Western Europe could these questions have arisen. -Education was then bound up with religion, and to become a scholar -meant to learn the Scriptures. In Mohammedan countries this union of -religion with education still exists in full force. To learn, means -to learn the Koran, and therefore to learn Arabic. But as soon as the -criterion of what to learn ceased to be religion, and the School became -independent of the Church, the question of what to teach was bound to -arise. That it did not arise suddenly, was due to the fact that the -emancipation of the School from the Church took place gradually. But -the day has at last come when the question must be faced; and no clear -guidance is given us either by philosophy or by any definite consensus -of opinion among those concerned with education. In the higher schools -some advocate a classical, others a scientific, education; while in the -primary schools, if the education is controlled by the priests it is -carried on in one way, and if it is controlled by the anti-clericals it -is carried on in another. Under these circumstances the only possible -criterion must be the wish of the pupils or of their parents. Tolstoy -then goes on to maintain that the demand of the mass of the Russian -people is for tuition in the Russian and Ecclesiastico-Slavonic -languages, and for mathematics. - -As to _how_ to teach, he contends that this resolves itself into the -question, How to establish the best possible relations between those -who want to learn and those who want to teach, and he says: - - No one, probably, will deny that the best relation between a - teacher and his pupils is a natural one, and that the opposite - to a natural one is a compulsory one. If that be so, then the - measure of all scholastic methods consists in the greater or lesser - naturalness, and consequently in the less or more compulsion - employed. The less the children are compelled, the better is the - method; the more they are compelled, the worse is the method. I am - glad that it is not necessary for me to prove this obvious truth. - All are agreed that it cannot be good for health to employ foods, - medicines, or exercises which create disgust or pain; and so also - in learning, there can be no need to compel children to grind at - anything dull or repugnant to them; and if it seems necessary to - use compulsion, that fact can merely prove the imperfection of - the methods employed. All who have taught children have probably - noticed that the worse the teacher knows the subject he is dealing - with and the less he likes it, the more he has to be stern and the - more compulsion he has to use; while on the contrary, the better - the teacher knows and loves his subject, the more free and natural - will be his tuition. - - If history be closely examined, it will be found that every advance - in pedagogics has consisted merely in a diminution of compulsion, - a facilitation of study, and a greater and greater approach to - naturalness in the relations between teacher and pupil. - - People have asked, How can we find the degree of freedom to be - allowed in school? To which I reply that the limit of that freedom - is naturally defined by the teacher, by his knowledge, and by his - capacity to manage the school. Such freedom cannot be dictated; its - measure is merely the result of the greater or lesser knowledge - and talent possessed by the master. Freedom is not a rule, but - it serves as a gauge when comparing one school with another, or - when judging of new methods. The school in which there is less - compulsion, is better than the one in which there is more. That - method is good which, when introduced into a school, does not - necessitate any increase of discipline; while that is certainly bad - which necessitates greater severity. - -From his main subject of Education, Tolstoy digresses in these articles -into a discussion of other problems, in a way which reminds one of -those wonderful essays he began to pour forth a quarter of a century -later. - -That he had been somewhat influenced by the Slavophils is indicated -by his readiness to assume that Russia may advance along a line -of her own, entirely different to that the Western nations have -travelled. 'Progress,' in which like almost all his contemporaries he -had believed, he now questions; and he indulges in a sharp attack on -Macaulay for the third chapter of his _History_, which he says contains -no proof that any real progress has been achieved. Buckle, similarly, -is roughly handled for the assumption of progress that underlies his -_History of Civilisation_; but most scathing of all is his onslaught -upon Hegel, who (till Darwin appeared) was the rock on which many of -the intellectual Liberals took their stand. - - From the time of Hegel and his famous aphorism: 'What is historic - is reasonable,' a very queer mental hocus-pocus has prevailed in - literary and in verbal disputes, especially among us, under the - name of 'the historic view.' You say, for instance, that man has - a right to freedom, or to be tried on the basis of laws of which - he himself approves; but the historic view replies that history - evolves a certain historic moment conditioning a certain historic - legislation and a people's historic relation thereto. You say - you believe in a God; and the historic view replies that history - evolves certain historic views and humanity's relation to those - views. You say the _Iliad_ is the greatest of epic works; and the - historic view replies that the _Iliad_ is merely the expression - of the historic consciousness of a people at a certain historic - moment. On this basis, the historic view does not dispute with you - as to whether man needs freedom, or whether there is or is not a - God, or whether the _Iliad_ is good or bad: it does nothing to - establish the freedom you desire; to persuade or dissuade you of - the existence of a God or of the beauty of the _Iliad_; it merely - points out to you the place your inner need or your love of truth - or beauty, occupy in history. It merely recognises--and recognises - not by direct cognition, but by historic ratiocination. - - Say that you love or believe anything, and the historic view tells - you: 'Love and believe, and your love and faith will find their - place in our historic view. Ages will pass and we shall find the - place you are to occupy in history. Know however in advance, that - what you love is not absolutely beautiful, and what you believe in - is not absolutely true; yet amuse yourselves, children: your love - and faith will find their place and application.' - - It is only necessary to add the word 'historic' to any conception - you like, and that conception loses its real vital meaning, in an - artificially-formed historic world-conception. - -Of the introduction of telegraphs and railways he remarks that people -attribute great importance to these inventions, and boast of the -progress that is being made, declaring that: - - 'Man is mastering the forces of Nature. Thought, with the rapidity - of lightning, flies from one end of the world to the other. Time is - vanquished.' - -This, says Tolstoy, is excellent and touching. - - But let us see who gains by it. We are speaking of the progress - of the electric telegraph. Evidently the advantage and use of the - telegraph is reserved for the upper, so-called 'educated' class; - while the people, nine-tenths of the whole, only hear the droning - of the wires and are hampered by the strict laws made for the - protection of the telegraph. - - Along the wires flies the thought that the demand for such-and-such - an article has increased, and that the price must therefore be - raised; or the thought that I, a Russian landed proprietress, - living in Florence, have, thank God, recovered from my nervous - prostration, and that I embrace my adored husband and beg him to - send me 40,000 francs as quickly as possible. - - Without going into exact statistics of the messages sent, one may - be quite sure that they all belong to the kind of correspondence - of which the above are samples. No peasant of Yásnaya Polyána in - the Government of Toúla, or any other Russian peasant (and let it - not be forgotten that the peasants form the mass of the people - whose welfare 'progress' is supposed to secure) ever has sent or - received, or for a long time to come will either send or receive, - a single telegram. All the messages that fly above his head add - no jot to his welfare, because all he needs he gets from his own - fields and his own woods, and he is equally indifferent to the - cheapness or dearness of sugar or cotton, to the dethronement of - King Otho, the speeches of Palmerston and Napoleon III, or the - feelings of the lady in Florence. All those thoughts that fly with - the rapidity of lightning round the world, do not increase the - fertility of his fields nor diminish the strictness of the keepers - in the squire's or the Crown's forests, nor do they add to his or - his family's working power, or supply him with an extra labourer. - All these great thoughts may impair his welfare, but cannot secure - or further it, and can have but a negative interest for him. To - the True-Believers in progress, however, the telegraph wires - have brought and are bringing immense advantages. I do not deny - those advantages: I only wish to prove that one must not think, - or persuade others, that what is advantageous for me, is a great - blessing to all the world.... - - In the opinion of the Russian people what increases their welfare - is an increase of the fertility of the soil, an increase in the - herds of cattle, an increase of the quantity of grain and its - consequently becoming cheaper, an increase of working power, - an increase in woods and pastures, and the absence of town - temptations. (I beg the reader to observe that no peasant ever - complains of the cheapness of bread; it is only the political - economists of Western Europe who soothe him with the prospect that - bread will become dearer and render it more possible for him to - purchase manufactured articles, in which he is not interested.) - - Which of these benefits does the railway bring to the peasant? It - increases the temptations; it destroys the woods; it draws away - labourers; it raises the price of grain.... - - The real people, that is to say those who themselves work and live - productively--nine-tenths of the whole nation--without whom no - progress is conceivable, are always hostile to the railway. And so - what it comes to is this: that the believers in 'progress,' a small - part of society, say that railways increase the welfare of the - people; while the larger part of the nation say that the railways - decrease it. - -Interesting, stimulating and suggestive as Tolstoy's articles were, and -valuable as was the experience gained in his school, his magazine had -very few subscribers and only existed for one year: the twelfth number -was the last. - -In an article written thirteen years later, he says of his attempts in -1861-2: - - At that time I met with no sympathy in the educational journals, - nor even with any contradiction, but only with the completest - indifference to the question I was raising. There were, it is true, - some attacks on a few insignificant details, but the question - itself evidently interested no one. I was young at that time, and - this indifference galled me. I did not understand that I with my - question: How do you know what and how to teach? was like a man - who, in an assembly of Turkish Pachas discussing how to collect - more taxes from the people, should say to them: Gentlemen, before - discussing how much to take from each man, we must first consider - what right we have to collect taxes at all? Obviously, the Pachas - would continue to discuss the methods of collecting, and would - ignore the irrelevant question. - -Before passing on to tell of the actual working of the Yásnaya Polyána -school, there is one matter to be noted, small indeed in itself, but -characteristic, and helpful for the understanding of Tolstoy's later -development. - -Tolstoy's personal honour has never been questioned, and the reader -will remember that at Sevastopol he flatly refused to touch money -which, according to the long-standing regimental custom, was at his -disposal. Well, in his magazine he printed a story written by one of -the boys in the school, and appraised it with enthusiasm. The hero of -the story, who had been wretchedly poor, returns from the army with -money to spare, and explains the matter to his wife by saying: 'I -was a non-commissioned officer and had Crown money to pay out to the -soldiers, and some remaining over, I kept it.' - -Commenting on this, Tolstoy says: - - It is revealed that the soldier has become rich, and has done so - in the simplest and most natural manner, just as almost everybody - does who becomes rich--that is, by other people's, the Crown's, - or somebody's, money remaining in his hands owing to a fortunate - accident. Some readers have remarked that this incident is immoral, - and that the people's conception of the Crown as a milch cow should - be eradicated and not confirmed. But not to speak of its artistic - truth, I particularly value that trait in the story. Does not the - Crown money always stop somewhere? And why should it not, once in - a way, stop with a homeless soldier like Gordéy? - - In the views of honesty held by the peasants and the upper class, - a complete contrast is often noticeable. The peasants' demands are - specially serious and strict with regard to honesty in the nearest - relations of life; for instance, in respect to one's family, one's - village, or one's commune. In respect to outsiders: the public, the - Crown, or foreigners, or the Treasury especially, the applicability - of the rules of honesty seems to them obscure. A peasant who would - never tell a lie to his brother peasant, and who would bear all - possible hardships for the sake of his family, and not take a - farthing from a fellow-villager or neighbour without having fully - earned it--will be ready to squeeze a foreigner or a townsman like - an orange, and at every second word will lie to a gentleman or an - official. If he is a soldier, he will without the slightest twinge - of conscience stab a French prisoner, and should Crown money come - his way, he would consider it a crime to his family not to take it. - In the upper class, on the contrary, it is quite the reverse.... - I do not say which is better, I only say what I believe to be the - case.... - - To return to the story. The mention of the Crown money, which at - first seems immoral, in our opinion has a most sweet and touching - character. How often a writer of our circle, when wishing to show - his hero as an ideal of honesty, naďvely displays to us the dirty - and depraved nature of his own imagination! Here, on the contrary, - the author has to make his hero happy. His return to his family - would suffice for that, but it was also necessary to remove the - poverty which for so many years had weighed on the family. Where - was he to take money from? From the impersonal Crown! If the author - is to give him wealth, it has to be taken from some one, and it - could not have been found in a more legitimate or reasonable way. - -No doubt Tolstoy's statement of peasant morality is true enough; but -Tolstoy's attitude towards the matter is remarkable. He has always had -a keen sense of personal morality, but when public morality was in -question, his decisions seem to me often to have been at fault. - -Passing from the moral to the economic aspect of the question, to -Western ears it sounds strange to hear the medieval or Oriental -conception so boldly announced, that property 'has to be taken from -some one' before it can be obtained. In our world, wealth has, during -the last five generations, been increased enormously by inventions, by -organisation, by division of labour, by the skilful utilisation of the -forces of Nature, as well as by co-operation and the bringing together -into one place of industries and individuals mutually helpful; and it -has become impossible for us to believe that the _only_ way to obtain -wealth is by depriving some one else of wealth they already possess. - - -AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VII - -Birukof. - -Fet. - -Tolstoy's letter to A. Maude. - -Tolstoy's Educational Articles. - -Löwenfeld's _Leo N. Tolstoj_. - -P. A. Sergeyenko in _Niva_, No. 7, 1906. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE SCHOOL - -Yásno-Polyána School. Freedom in class. Natural laws. A fight. Theft -and punishment. A walk and talk on art. Peasants' opinion of the -school. Gymnastics. Reading. The Bible. Penmanship. Grammar. History. -Geography. Drawing. Singing. Composition. A literary genius. Art: -exclusive or universal? Reading useless for lack of what to read. The -value of freedom in education. A contrast. - - -AS already mentioned, Tolstoy's magazine, besides its theoretical -articles, contained others describing the work done at the -Yásno-Polyána school, and from these we learn in his own words, how -Tolstoy and his pupils, and the masters (including the young German, -Keller, whom he had brought back with him from abroad) were occupied -in November and December 1861. The following passages are part of his -description of the school: - - No one brings anything with him, neither books nor copy-books. - No homework is set them. Not only do they carry nothing in their - hands, they have nothing to carry even in their heads. They are - not obliged to remember any lesson, nor any of yesterday's work. - They are not tormented by the thought of the impending lesson. They - bring only themselves, their receptive nature, and an assurance - that it will be as jolly in school to-day as it was yesterday. - They do not think of their classes till they have begun. No one - is ever scolded for being late, and they never are late, except - perhaps some of the older boys whose fathers occasionally keep them - at home to do some work. In such cases the boy comes to school - running fast and panting. Until the teacher arrives, some gather - at the porch, pushing one another off the steps or sliding on the - ice-covered path, and some go into the rooms. When it is cold, - while waiting for the master, they read, write, or play about. The - girls do not mix with the boys. When the boys take any notice of - the girls, they never address any one of them in particular, but - always speak to them collectively: 'Hey, girls, why don't you come - and slide?' or, 'Look how frozen the girls are,' or, 'Now girls, - all of you against me!' - - Suppose that by the time-table the lesson for the youngest class - is elementary reading; for the second, advanced reading; and for - the third, mathematics. The teacher enters the room, on the floor - of which the boys are lying in a heap, shouting, 'The heap is too - small!' or, 'Boys, you're choking me!' or, 'Don't pull my hair!' - etc. - - 'Peter Miháylovitch!' cries a voice from the bottom of the heap, - to the teacher as he enters: 'Tell them to stop!'--'Good morning, - Peter Miháylovitch!' cry others, continuing their scrimmage. The - teacher takes the books and gives them to those who have followed - him to the cupboard, while from the heap of boys on the floor, - those on top, still sprawling, demand books. The heap gradually - diminishes. As soon as most of the boys have taken books, the rest - run to the cupboard crying, 'Me too! Me too!'--'Give me yesterday's - book!'--'Give me Kóltsof!' and so forth. If a couple of boys - excited by their struggle still remain on the floor, those who have - taken books and settled down, shout at them, 'What are you up to? - We can't hear anything! Stop it!' The excited ones submit, and, - panting, take to their books; and only just at first swing their - legs with unspent excitement as they sit reading. The spirit of - war flies away and the spirit of reading reigns in the room. With - the same ardour with which he pulled Mítka's hair, he now reads - Kóltsof's works: with almost clenched teeth, with sparkling eyes, - and oblivious of all around him but his book. To tear him from his - reading now would need as much effort as formerly to tear him from - his wrestling. - - They sit where they like: on the benches, tables, window-sills, - floor, or in the arm-chair. The girls always sit together. Friends - from the same village, especially the little ones (among whom - there is most comradeship) always sit together. As soon as one of - them decides that he will sit in a certain corner, all his chums, - pushing and diving under the forms, get there too, and sit together - looking about them with faces that express as much happiness and - satisfaction as though, having settled in that place, they would - certainly be happy for the rest of their lives. The large arm-chair - (which somehow found its way into the room) is an object coveted - by the more independent personalities.... As soon as one of them - decides to sit in it, another discerns his intention from his - looks, and they collide and squeeze in. One dislodges the other, - and curling up, sprawls with his head far below the back, but reads - like the rest, quite absorbed in his work. During lessons I have - never seen them whispering, pinching, giggling, laughing behind - their hands, or complaining of one another to the teacher. - - The two lower classes sort themselves in one room, the upper - class in another. The teacher appears, and in the first class all - surround him at the blackboard, or lie on the forms, or sit on - the table, near him or near one of the boys who reads. If it is a - writing lesson, they place themselves in a more orderly way, but - keep getting up to look at one another's exercise books, and to - show their own to the teacher. According to the time-table there - should be four lessons before dinner; but sometimes in practice - these become three or two, and may be on quite other subjects. - The teacher may begin with arithmetic and pass on to geometry; or - may begin with Sacred History and end up with grammar. Sometimes - teacher and pupils are so carried away, that a lesson lasts three - hours instead of one. Sometimes the pupils themselves cry: 'Go on, - go on!' and shout contemptuously to any who are tired: 'If you're - tired, go to the little ones!' - - In my opinion this external disorder is useful and necessary, - however strange and inconvenient it may seem to the teacher. Of - its advantages I shall have frequent occasion to speak; but of its - apparent disadvantages I will say: - - First, this disorder, or free order, only frightens us because we - ourselves were educated in, and are accustomed to, something quite - different. Secondly, in this as in many similar cases, coercion is - used only from hastiness or from lack of respect for human nature. - We think the disorder is growing greater and greater, and that - it has no limit. We think there is no way of stopping it except - by force; but one need only wait a little, and the disorder (or - animation) calms down of itself, and calms down into a far better - and more durable order than any we could devise. - -In another place he says: - - Our school evolved freely from the principles brought into it by - the teachers and pupils. In spite of the predominant influence of - the teacher, the pupil always had the right not to go to school; - and even when in school, not to listen to the teacher. The teacher - had the right not to admit a pupil.... - - Submitting naturally only to laws derived from their own nature, - children revolt and rebel when subjected to your premature - interference. They do not believe in the validity of your bells and - time-tables and rules. How often have I seen children fighting. The - teacher rushes to separate them, and the separated enemies look - at one another askance, and even in the stern teacher's presence - cannot refrain from giving one another a parting blow, yet more - painful than its predecessors. How often, any day, do I see some - Kirúshka, clenching his teeth, fly at Taráska, seize his hair, - and throw him to the ground, apparently--though it costs him his - life--determined to maim his foe; yet not a minute passes before - Taráska is already laughing under Kirúshka. One, and then the - other, moderates his blows, and before five minutes have passed - they have made friends, and off they go to sit together. - - The other day, between lessons, two boys were struggling in a - corner. The one, a remarkable mathematician about ten years old, - is in the second class; the other, a close-cropped lad, the son - of a servant, is a clever but vindictive, tiny, black-eyed lad, - nicknamed Pussy. Pussy seized the mathematician's long hair and - jammed his head against the wall; the mathematician vainly clutched - at Pussy's close-cropped bristles. Pussy's black eyes gleamed - triumphantly. The mathematician, hardly refraining from tears, kept - saying: 'Well, well, what of it?' But though he tried to keep - up appearances, it was plain he was faring badly. This went on - for some time, and I was in doubt what to do. 'A fight, a fight!' - shouted the boys, and crowded towards the corner. The little ones - laughed; but the bigger ones, though they did not interfere, - exchanged serious glances, and their silence and these glances did - not escape Pussy's observation. He understood that he was doing - something wrong, and began to smile shamefacedly, and by degrees - let go of the mathematician's hair. The mathematician shook himself - free, and giving Pussy a push that banged the back of the latter's - head against the wall, went off satisfied. Pussy began to cry, and - rushed after his enemy, hitting him as hard as he could on his - sheepskin coat, but without hurting him. The mathematician wished - to pay him back, but at that moment several disapproving voices - were raised. 'There now; he's fighting a little fellow!' cried the - onlookers, 'get away, Pussy!'--and therewith the affair ended as - though it had never occurred, except, I think, that both combatants - retained a dim consciousness that fighting is unpleasant, because - both get hurt. - - In this case I seemed to detect a feeling of fairness influencing - the crowd; but how often such affairs are settled so that one - does not know what law has decided them, and yet both sides are - satisfied! How arbitrary and unjust by comparison are all School - methods of dealing with such cases. 'You are both to blame: kneel - down!' says the teacher; and the teacher is wrong, because one boy - is in the wrong, and that one triumphs while on his knees, and - chews the cud of his unexpended anger, while the innocent one is - doubly punished.... - - I am convinced that the School should not interfere with that part - of education which belongs to the family. The School should not, - and has no right to, reward or punish; and the best police and - administration of a School consist in giving full freedom to the - pupils to learn and get on among themselves as they like. I am - convinced of this; and yet the customary School habits are still so - strong in us that in the Yásno-Polyána school we frequently break - this rule.... - - During last summer, while the school-house was being repaired, - a Leyden jar disappeared from the physical cabinet; pencils - disappeared repeatedly, as well as books--and this at a time when - neither the carpenters nor the painters were at work. We questioned - the boys. The best pupils, those who had been with us longest, - old friends of ours, blushed and were so uneasy that any Public - Prosecutor would have thought their confusion a sure proof of their - guilt. But I knew them, and could answer for them as for myself. - I understood that the very idea of being suspected offended them - deeply and painfully. A gifted and tender-hearted boy, whom I will - call Theodore, turned quite pale, trembled and wept. They promised - to tell me, if they found out; but they declined to undertake a - search. A few days later the thief was discovered. He was the son - of a servant from a distant village. He had led astray, and made an - accomplice of, a peasant boy from the same village; and together - they had hidden the stolen articles in a box. This discovery - produced a strange feeling in the other pupils: a kind of relief - and even joy, accompanied by contempt and pity for the thief. We - proposed that they should allot the punishment themselves. Some - demanded that the thief should be flogged, but stipulated that they - should do the flogging; others said: 'Sew a card on him, with the - word _thief_.' This latter punishment, to our shame be it said, - had been used by us before, and it was the very boy who a year - ago had himself been labelled _liar_, who now most insistently - demanded a card for the thief. We consented, and when one of the - girls was sewing the card on, all the pupils watched and teased - the punished boys with malicious joy. They wanted the punishment - increased: 'Let them be led through the village; and let them wear - cards till the holidays,' said they. The victims cried. The peasant - boy who had been led astray by his comrade, a gifted narrator and - jester, a plump, white, chubby little chap, wept without restraint - and with all his childish might. The other, the chief offender, a - hump-nosed boy with a thin-featured, clever face, became pale, his - lips quivered, his eyes looked wildly and angrily at his joyous - comrades, and occasionally his face was unnaturally distorted by a - sob. His cap, with a torn peak, was stuck on the very back of his - head; his hair was ruffled, his clothes soiled with chalk. All this - now struck me and everybody else as though we saw it for the first - time. The unkindly attention of all was directed to him, and he - felt it painfully. When, with bent head and without looking round, - he started homeward with (as it seemed to me) a peculiar, criminal - gait, and when the boys ran after him in a crowd, teasing him in an - unnatural and strangely cruel way as though, against their will, - they were moved by some evil spirit, something told me that we were - not doing right. But things took their course, and the thief wore - the card that whole day. From this time he began, as it seemed to - me, to learn worse, and one did not see him playing and talking - with his fellows out of class. - - One day I came to a lesson, and the pupils informed me, with - a kind of horror, that the boy had again stolen. He had taken - twenty copecks (seven pence) in coppers from the teacher's room, - and had been caught hiding them under the stairs. We again hung - a card on him; and again the same revolting scene recommenced. I - began to admonish him, as all masters admonish; and a big boy, - fond of talking, who was present, also admonished him--probably - repeating words he had heard his father, an innkeeper, use: 'You - steal once, and you do it again,' said he distinctly, glibly, and - with dignity; 'it becomes a habit, and leads to no good.' I began - to get vexed. I glanced at the face of the punished boy, which - had become yet paler, more suffering and harder than before; and - somehow I thought of convicts, and suddenly I felt so ashamed and - disgusted that I tore the stupid card off him, told him to go where - he liked, and became convinced--and convinced not by reason, but by - my whole nature--that I had no right to torment that unfortunate - boy, and that it was not in my power to make of him what I and the - innkeeper's son wanted to make of him. I became convinced that - there are secrets of the soul, hidden from us, on which life may - act, but which precepts and punishments do not reach. - -It may be said that any department of life could be treated in this -way: we have merely to invert an established order founded on the -experience of men, and a topsy-turvy millennium is born. It may also be -said that in the foregoing pages Tolstoy appears as the evangelist of -an educational system founded on the free play of youthful instincts -which, speaking merely the language of natural animal life, call for -sympathetic discipline. But in his _Confession_ Tolstoy has treated -his educational writings with such scant respect that criticism is -disarmed; more especially as the actual working of his school was -extremely interesting and much more successful than might have been -expected. - -N. V. Ouspénsky, the writer, narrates that he visited Yásnaya Polyána -in 1862, and Tolstoy, having to leave him alone for awhile, asked him -to glance at some of the compositions the boys had written in school. -Taking up one of these, Ouspénsky read: - - One day, Lyóf Nikoláyevitch (Tolstoy) called Savóskin up to the - blackboard and ordered him to solve a problem in arithmetic. 'If I - give you five rolls, and you eat one of them, how many rolls will - you have left?'... Savóskin could nohow solve this problem, and the - Count pulled his hair for it.... - -When Tolstoy returned Ouspénsky pointed out to him this essay, and -Tolstoy, sighing heavily, crossed his hands before him and merely said: -'Life in this world is a hard task.' - -Ouspénsky considered that he had unearthed an extraordinary -contradiction between theory and practice; but no one who realises the -difficulty and novelty of Tolstoy's attempt, and how far he is from -claiming perfection for himself or for his achievements, should agree -with Ouspénsky. On the contrary, the essay proves a freedom of relation -between teacher and pupil, which would certainly not have existed had -the hair-pulling been other than impulsive and exceptional. - -The school was closed, or nearly so, during the summer, as most of the -pupils then helped their parents with field work; obtaining, Tolstoy -considers, more mental development that way than they could have done -in any school. To make up for this, the hours of study in winter were -long. - - The classes generally finish about eight or nine o'clock (unless - carpentering keeps the elder boys somewhat later), and the whole - band run shouting into the yard, and there, calling to one another, - begin to separate, making for different parts of the village. - Occasionally they arrange to coast down-hill to the village in a - large sledge that stands outside the gate. They tie up the shafts, - throw themselves into it, and squealing, disappear from sight in a - cloud of snow, leaving here and there on their path black patches - of children who have tumbled out. In the open air, out of school - (for all its freedom) new relations are formed between pupil and - teacher: freer, simpler and more trustful--those very relations - which seem to us the ideal which School should aim at. - - Not long ago we read Gógol's story _Viy_ [an Earth-Spirit] in the - highest class. The final scenes affected them strongly, and excited - their imagination. Some of them played the witch, and kept alluding - to the last chapters.... - - Out of doors it was a moonless, winter night, with clouds in the - sky, not cold. We stopped at the crossroads. The elder boys, in - their third year, stopped near me, asking me to accompany them - further. The younger ones looked at us, and rushed off down-hill. - They had begun to learn with a new master, and between them and - me there is not the same confidence as between the older boys and - myself. - - 'Well, let us go to the wood' (a small wood about 120 yards from - the house), said one of them. The most insistent was Fédka, a boy - of ten, with a tender, receptive, poetic yet daring nature. Danger - seems to form the chief condition of pleasure for him. In summer it - always frightened me to see how he, with two other boys, would swim - out into the very middle of the pond, which is nearly 120 yards - wide, and would now and then disappear in the hot reflection of the - summer sun, and swim under water; and how he would then turn on - his back, causing fountains of water to rise, and calling with his - high-pitched voice to his comrades on the bank to see what a fine - fellow he was. - - He now knew there were wolves in the wood, and so he wanted to go - there. All agreed; and the four of us went to the wood. Another - boy, a lad of twelve, physically and morally strong, whom I will - call Syómka, went on in front and kept calling and 'ah-ou-ing' with - his ringing voice, to some one at a distance. Prónka, a sickly, - mild and very gifted lad, from a poor family (sickly probably - chiefly from lack of food), walked by my side. Fédka walked between - me and Syómka, talking all the time in a particularly gentle voice: - now relating how he had herded horses in summer, now saying there - was nothing to be afraid of, and now asking, 'Suppose one should - jump out?' and insisting on my giving some reply. We did not go - into the wood: that would have been too dreadful; but even where - we were, near the wood, it was darker, and the road was scarcely - visible, and the lights of the village were hidden from view. - Syómka stopped and listened: 'Stop, lads! What is that?' said he - suddenly. - - We were silent, and though we heard nothing, things seemed to grow - more gruesome. - - 'What shall we do if it leaps out ... and comes at us?' asked Fédka. - - We began to talk about Caucasian robbers. They remembered a - Caucasian tale I had told them long ago, and I again told them of - 'braves,' of Cossacks, and of Hádji Mourát.[46] Syómka went on in - front, treading boldly in his big boots, his broad back swaying - regularly. Prónka tried to walk by my side, but Fédka pushed him - off the path, and Prónka--who, probably on account of his poverty, - always submitted--only ran up alongside at the most interesting - passages, sinking in the snow up to his knees. - - [46] The daring Caucasian leader mentioned by Tolstoy in a - letter quoted in Chapter III. - - Every one who knows anything of Russian peasant children knows - that they are not accustomed to, and cannot bear, any caresses, - affectionate words, kisses, hand touchings, and so forth. I have - seen a lady in a peasant school, wishing to pet a boy, say: 'Come, - I will give you a kiss, dear!' and actually kiss him; and the boy - was ashamed and offended, and could not understand why he had been - so treated. Boys of five are already above such caresses--they are - no longer babies. I was therefore particularly struck when Fédka, - walking beside me, at the most terrible part of the story suddenly - touched me lightly with his sleeve, and then clasped two of my - fingers in his hand, and kept hold of them. As soon as I stopped - speaking, Fédka demanded that I should go on, and did this in such - a beseeching and agitated voice that it was impossible not to - comply with his wish. - - 'Now then, don't get in the way!' said he once angrily to Prónka, - who had run in front of us. He was so carried away as even to be - cruel; so agitated yet happy was he, holding on to my fingers, that - he could let no one dare to interrupt his pleasure. - - 'Some more! Some more! It is fine!' said he. - - We had passed the wood and were approaching the village from the - other end. - - 'Let's go on,' said all the boys when the lights became visible. - 'Let us take another turn!' - - We went on in silence, sinking here and there in the rotten snow, - not hardened by much traffic. A white darkness seemed to sway - before our eyes; the clouds hung low, as though something had - heaped them upon us. There was no end to that whiteness, amid which - we alone crunched along the snow. The wind sounded through the bare - tops of the aspens, but where we were, behind the woods, it was - calm. - - I finished my story by telling how a 'brave,' surrounded by his - enemies, sang his death-song and threw himself on his dagger. All - were silent. - - 'Why did he sing a song when he was surrounded?' asked Syómka. - - 'Weren't you told?--He was preparing for death!' replied Fédka, - aggrieved. - - 'I think he sang a prayer,' added Prónka. - - All agreed. Fédka suddenly stopped. - - 'How was it, you told us, your Aunt had her throat cut?' asked he. - (He had not yet had enough horrors.) 'Tell us! Tell us!' - - I again told them that terrible story of the murder of the Countess - Tolstoy,[47] and they stood silently about me, watching my face. - - [47] Some details of this crime are given in 'Why do Men - Stupefy Themselves?' in _Essays and letters_, published in the - _World's Classics_. - - 'The fellow got caught!' said Syómka. - - 'He was afraid to go away in the night, while she was lying with - her throat cut!' said Fédka; 'I should have run away!' and he - gathered my two fingers yet more closely in his hand. - - We stopped in the thicket, beyond the threshing-floor at the very - end of the village. Syómka picked up a dry stick from the snow and - began striking it against the frosty trunk of a lime tree. Hoar - frost fell from the branches on to one's cap, and the noise of the - blows resounded in the stillness of the wood. - - 'Lyóf Nikoláyevitch,' said Fédka to me (I thought he was going - again to speak about the Countess), 'why does one learn singing? I - often think, why, really, does one?' - - What made him jump from the terror of the murder to this question, - heaven only knows; yet by the tone of his voice, the seriousness - with which he demanded an answer, and the attentive silence of - the other two, one felt that there was some vital and legitimate - connection between this question and our preceding talk. Whether - the connection lay in some response to my suggestion that crime - might be explained by lack of education (I had spoken of that) or - whether he was testing himself--transferring himself into the mind - of the murderer and remembering his own favourite occupation (he - has a wonderful voice and immense musical talent) or whether the - connection lay in the fact that he felt that now was the time for - sincere conversation, and all the problems demanding solution rose - in his mind--at any rate his question surprised none of us. - - 'And what is drawing for? And why write well?' said I, not knowing - at all how to explain to him what art is for. - - 'What is drawing for?' repeated he thoughtfully. He really was - asking, What is Art for? And I neither dared nor could explain. - - 'What is drawing for?' said Syómka. 'Why, you draw anything, and - can then make it from the drawing.' - - 'No, that is designing,' said Fédka. 'But why draw figures?' - - Syómka's matter-of-fact mind was not perplexed. - - 'What is a stick for, and what is a lime tree for?' said he, still - striking the tree. - - 'Yes, what is a lime tree for?' said I. - - 'To make rafters of,' replied Syómka. - - 'But what is it for in summer, when not yet cut down?' - - 'Then, it's no use.' - - 'No, really,' insisted Fédka; 'why does a lime tree grow?' - - And we began to speak of the fact that not everything exists for - use, but that there is also beauty, and that Art is beauty; and we - understood one another, and Fédka quite understood why the lime - tree grows and what singing is for. - - Prónka agreed with us, but he thought rather of moral beauty: - goodness. - - Syómka understood with his big brain, but did not acknowledge - beauty apart from usefulness. He was in doubt (as often happens to - men with great reasoning power): feeling Art to be a force, but not - feeling in his soul the need of that force. He, like them, wished - to get at Art by his reason, and tried to kindle that fire in - himself. - - 'We'll sing _Who hath_ to-morrow. I remember my part,' said he. (He - has a correct ear, but no taste or refinement in singing.) Fédka, - however, fully understood that the lime tree is good when in leaf: - good to look at in summer; and that that is enough. - - Prónka understood that it is a pity to cut it down, because it, - too, has life: - - 'Why, when we take the sap of a lime, it's like taking blood.' - - Syómka, though he did not say so, evidently thought that there was - little use in a lime when it was sappy. - - It feels strange to repeat what we then said, but it seems to me - that we said all that can be said about utility, and plastic and - moral beauty. - - We went on to the village. Fédka still clung to my hand; now, it - seemed to me, from gratitude. We all were nearer one another that - night than we had been for a long time. Prónka walked beside us - along the broad village street. - - 'See, there is still a light in Mazánof's house,' said he. 'As I - was going to school this morning, Gavrúka was coming from the pub, - as dru-u-nk as could be! His horse all in a lather and he beating - it! I am always sorry for such things. Really, why should it be - beaten?' - - 'And the other day, coming from Toúla, my daddy gave his horse the - reins,' said Syómka; 'and it took him into a snow-drift and there - he slept--quite drunk.' - - 'And Gavrúka kept on beating his horse over the eyes, and I felt so - sorry,' repeated Prónka again. 'Why should he beat it? He got down - and just flogged it.' - - Syómka suddenly stopped. - - 'Our folk are already asleep,' said he, looking in at the window of - his crooked, dirty hut. 'Won't you walk a little longer?' - - 'No.' - - 'Go-o-od-bye, Lyóf Nikoláyevitch!' shouted he suddenly, and tearing - himself away from us, as it were with an effort, he ran to the - house, lifted the latch and disappeared. - - 'So you will take each of us home? First one and then the other?' - said Fédka. - - We went on. There was a light in Prónka's hut, and we looked in at - the window. His mother, a tall and handsome but toil-worn woman, - with black eyebrows and eyes, sat at the table, peeling potatoes. - In the middle of the hut hung a cradle. Prónka's brother, the - mathematician from our second class, was standing at the table, - eating potatoes with salt. It was a black, tiny, and dirty hut. - - 'What a plague you are!' shouted the mother at Prónka. 'Where have - you been?' - - Prónka glanced at the window with a meek, sickly smile. His mother - guessed that he had not come alone, and her face immediately - assumed a feigned expression that was not nice. - - Only Fédka was left. - - 'The travelling tailors are at our house, that is why there's a - light there,' said he in the softened voice that had come to him - that evening. 'Good-bye, Lyóf Nikoláyevitch!' added he, softly - and tenderly, and he began to knock with the ring attached to the - closed door. 'Let me in!' his high-pitched voice rang out amid the - winter stillness of the village. It was long before they opened the - door for him. I looked in at the window. The hut was a large one. - The father was playing cards with a tailor, and some copper coins - lay on the table. The wife, Fédka's stepmother, was sitting near - the torch-stand, looking eagerly at the money. The young tailor, - a cunning drunkard, was holding his cards on the table, bending - them, and looking triumphantly at his opponent. Fédka's father, - the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, his brow wrinkled with mental - exertion and vexation, changed one card for another, and waved his - horny hand in perplexity above them. - - 'Let me in!' - - The woman rose and went to the door. - - 'Good-bye!' repeated Fédka, once again. 'Let us always have such - walks!' - -Thus Tolstoy for the second time found himself faced by the question: -What is Art? which had arisen when he spoke to the Society of Lovers -of Russian Literature. This time it was put to him by a ten-year-old -peasant boy, and it seemed to him that: 'We said all that can be said -about utility, and plastic and moral beauty.' Twenty years later, -after achieving the highest fame as a literary artist, he returned -to the subject and tried to write an essay on the connection between -life and Art, thinking that he would be able to accomplish it at a -single effort. It proved, however, as he tells us, 'that my views on -the matter were so far from clear, that I could not arrange them in a -way that satisfied me. From that time I did not cease to think of the -subject, and I recommenced writing on it six or seven times; but each -time, after writing a considerable part of it, I found myself unable to -bring the work to a satisfactory conclusion, and had to put it aside.' -Only after another fifteen years' study and reflection did he succeed, -in 1898, in producing _What is Art?_ which raised such a storm in the -esthetic dovecots, and induced the editor of _Literature_ to declare -that 'There was never any reason for inferring that Count Tolstoy's -opinions on the philosophy of art would be worth the paper on which -they were written'; while A. B. Walkley was asserting that 'this calmly -and cogently reasoned effort to put art on a new basis is a literary -event of the first importance.' - -We have, however, as yet only reached the year 1862, and must not -anticipate. - -At first the peasants were rather afraid of the school, but before -long they gained confidence and the report became current among them -that: 'At Yásno-Polyána school they learn everything, including all -the sciences, and there are such clever masters that it is dreadful; -it is said that they even imitate thunder and lightning. Anyway, the -lads understand well, and have begun to read and write.' Another -very general opinion was that: 'They teach the boys everything (like -gentlemen's sons) much of it is no use, but still, as they quickly -learn to read, it is worth sending the children there.' - -Naturally Tolstoy, himself in those days an ardent gymnast, had -parallel and horizontal bars put up, and gave the children physical -training. To the effects of this on the stomach, the village mothers -did not fail to attribute any digestive troubles that befell their -children from time to time; especially when the long Lenten fast was -succeeded by a return to more appetising food, or when, after such -luxuries had long been lacking, fresh vegetables again came into use in -summer. - -In his account of the Yásno-Polyána school, Tolstoy tells us there were -about forty pupils enrolled, but more than thirty were rarely present -at a time; among them were four or five girls, and sometimes three or -four male adults who came either for a month or for a whole winter. -Most of the boys were from seven to ten years old. (Tolstoy says that -children learn to read most rapidly, easily and well, between the ages -of six and eight.) - -There were four teachers, and generally from five to seven lessons a -day. The teachers kept diaries of their work, and discussed matters -together on Sundays, when they drew up plans for the coming week. These -plans were, however, not strictly adhered to, but were constantly -modified to meet the demands of the pupils. - -Tolstoy's sister told me of another Sunday occupation at Yásnaya -Polyána in those days. Tolstoy used to invite all the boys from the -neighbouring schools within reach, and used to play games with them; -the favourite game being _Barre_, which I assume to be a form of 'Storm -the Castle.' - -Tolstoy came to the conclusion that teachers involuntarily strive to -find a method of teaching convenient for themselves, and that the more -convenient a method is for the teacher, the less convenient it is for -the pupil; and only _that_ method is good which satisfies the pupils. - -His theory of freedom as the basis of success in instruction, was put -to a rude test by the fact that for a considerable time his pupils made -little or no headway in learning to read. He says: - - The simple thought that the time had not yet come for good reading - and that there was at present no need of it, but that the pupils - would themselves find the best method when the need arose, only - recently entered my head. - -After telling how the boys first met the difficulty of mastering the -mechanical process of reading, Tolstoy goes on to tell how in the upper -class progress was suddenly made owing to what seemed an accident. - - In the class of advanced reading some one book is used, each boy - reading in turn, and then all telling its contents together. They - had been joined that autumn by an extremely talented lad, T., who - had studied for two years with a sacristan, and was therefore ahead - of them all in reading. He reads as we do, and so the pupils only - understand anything of the advanced reading (and then not very much - of it) when he reads; and yet each of them wishes to read. But as - soon as a bad reader begins, the others express dissatisfaction, - especially when the story is interesting. They laugh, and get - cross, and the bad reader feels ashamed, and endless disputes - arise. Last month one of the boys announced that at any cost he - would manage, within a week, to read as well as T.; others made the - same announcement, and suddenly mechanical reading became their - favourite occupation. For an hour or an hour-and-a-half at a time, - they would sit without tearing themselves away from the books, - which they did not understand; and they began taking books home - with them; and really, within three weeks, they made such progress - as could not have been expected. - - In their case the reverse had happened of what usually occurs with - those who learn the rudiments. Generally a man learns to read, and - finds nothing he cares to read or understand. In this case the - pupils were convinced that there is something worth reading and - understanding, but felt that they lacked the capacity; and so they - set to work to become proficient readers. - -A difficulty of enormous importance was the absence of books really -suitable for simple folk to read. - - The insoluble problem was that for the education of the people an - ability and a desire to read good books is essential. Good books - are, however, written in a literary language the people don't - understand. In order to learn to understand it, one would have to - read a great deal; and people won't read willingly unless they - understand what they read. - -Connected with this difficulty of finding books suited to the -understanding of peasants and of peasant children, was the parallel -difficulty of finding literary subjects that interested them. This was -first met by reading the Old Testament stories to them: - - A knowledge of Sacred History was demanded both by the pupils - themselves and by their parents. Of all the oral subjects I tried - during three years, nothing so suited the understanding and mental - condition of the boys as the Old Testament. The same was the case - in all the schools that came under my observation. I tried the - New Testament, I tried Russian History and Geography, I tried - explanations of natural phenomena (so much advocated to-day), but - it was all listened to unwillingly and quickly forgotten. But the - Old Testament was remembered and narrated eagerly both in class and - at home, and so well remembered that after two months the children - wrote Scripture tales from memory with very slight omissions. - - It seems to me that the book of the childhood of the race will - always be the best book for the childhood of each man. It seems to - me impossible to replace that book. To alter or to abbreviate the - Bible, as is done in Sonntag's and other school primers, appears - to me bad. All--every word--in it is right, both as revelation and - as art. Read about the creation of the world in the Bible, and - then read it in an abbreviated Sacred History, and the alteration - of the Bible into the Sacred History will appear to you quite - unintelligible. The latter can only be learnt by heart; while the - Bible presents the child with a vivid and majestic picture he will - never forget. The omissions made in the Sacred History are quite - unintelligible, and only impair the character and beauty of the - Scriptures. Why, for instance, is the statement omitted in all the - Sacred Histories, that when there was nothing, the Spirit of God - moved upon the face of the waters, and that after having created, - God looked at His creation and saw that it was good, and that then - it was the morning and evening of such and such a day? Why do they - omit that God breathed into Adam's nostrils the breath of life, and - that having taken one of his ribs He with the flesh closed up the - place thereof, and so forth? One must read the Bible to unperverted - children, to understand how necessary and true it all is. Perhaps - one ought not to give the Bible to perverted young ladies; but - when reading it to peasant children I did not alter or omit a - single word. None of them giggled behind another's back; but all - listened eagerly and with natural reverence. The story of Lot and - his daughters, and the story of Judah's son, evoked horror but not - laughter.... - - How intelligible and clear it all is, especially for a child, and - yet how stern and serious! I cannot imagine what instruction would - be possible, without that book. Yet when one has learnt these - stories only in childhood, and has afterwards partly forgotten - them, one thinks: What good do they do us? Would it not be all - the same if one did not know them at all? So it seems till, on - beginning to teach, you test on other children the elements that - helped to develop you. It seems as if one could teach children - to write and read and calculate, and could give them an idea of - history, geography, and natural phenomena, without the Bible, and - before the Bible; yet nowhere is this done: everywhere the child - first of all gets to know the Bible, its stories, or extracts from - it. The first relations of the learner to the teacher are founded - on that book. Such a general fact is not an accident. My very free - relations with my pupils at the commencement of the Yásno-Polyána - school helped me to find the explanation of this phenomenon. - - A child or a man on entering school (I make no distinction between - a ten-, thirty-, or seventy-year-old man) brings with him the - special view of things he has deduced from life and to which he is - attached. In order that a man of any age should begin to learn, - it is necessary that he should love learning. That he should love - learning, he must recognise the falseness and insufficiency of - his own view of things, and must scent afar off that new view of - life which learning is to reveal to him. No man or boy would have - the strength to learn, if the result of learning presented itself - to him merely as a capacity to write, to read, and to reckon. - No master could teach if he did not command an outlook on life - higher than his pupils possess. That a pupil may surrender himself - whole-heartedly to his teacher, one corner must be lifted of the - veil which hides from him all the delight of that world of thought, - knowledge, and poetry to which learning will admit him. Only by - being constantly under the spell of that bright light shining ahead - of him, will the pupil be able to use his powers in the way we - require of him. - - What means have we of lifting this corner of the veil?... As I - have said, I thought as many think, that being myself in the world - to which I had to introduce my pupils, it would be easy for me to - do this; and I taught the rudiments, explained natural phenomena, - and told them, as the primers do, that the fruits of learning are - sweet; but the scholars did not believe me, and kept aloof. Then I - tried reading the Bible to them, and quite took possession of them. - The corner of the veil was lifted, and they yielded themselves to - me completely. They fell in love with the book, and with learning, - and with me. It only remained for me to guide them on.... - - To reveal to the pupil a new world, and to make him, without - possessing knowledge, love knowledge, there is no book but the - Bible. I speak even for those who do not regard the Bible as a - revelation. There are no other works--at least I know none--which - in so compressed and poetic a form contain all those sides of - human thought which the Bible unites in itself. All the questions - raised by natural phenomena are there dealt with. Of all the - primitive relations of men with one another: the family, the State, - and religion, we first become conscious through that book. The - generalisations of thought and wisdom, with the charm given by - their childlike simplicity of form, seize the pupil's mind for the - first time. Not only does the lyricism of David's psalms act on the - minds of the elder pupils; but more than that, from this book every - one becomes conscious for the first time of the whole beauty of - the epos in its incomparable simplicity and strength. Who has not - wept over the story of Joseph and his meeting with his brethren? - Who has not, with bated breath, told the story of the bound and - shorn Samson, revenging himself on his enemies and perishing under - the ruins of the palace he destroys, or received a hundred other - impressions on which we were reared as on our mothers' milk? - - Let those who deny the educative value of the Bible and say it is - out of date, invent a book and stories explaining the phenomena of - Nature, either from general history or from the imagination, which - will be accepted as the Bible stories are; and then we will admit - that the Bible is obsolete.... - - Drawn though it may be from a one-sided experience, I repeat my - conviction. The development of a child or a man in our society - without the Bible, is as inconceivable as that of an ancient Greek - would have been without Homer. The Bible is the only book to begin - with, for a child's reading. The Bible, both in its form and in its - contents, should serve as a model for all children's primers and - all reading books. A translation of the Bible into the language of - the common folk, would be the best book for the people. - -When pupils came from other schools where they had had to learn -Scripture by heart, or had been inoculated with the abbreviated -school-primer versions, Tolstoy found that the Bible had nothing like -as strong an effect as it had on boys who came fresh to it. - - Such pupils do not experience what is felt by fresh pupils, who - listen to the Bible with beating heart, seizing every word, - thinking that now, now at last, all the wisdom of the world is - about to be revealed to them. - -In reading the above passages, it should be borne in mind that in -Russian usage 'The Bible' means the Old Testament only. - -Besides the Bible, the only books the people understand and like, says -Tolstoy, are those written not for the people but by the people; such -as folk-tales and collections of songs, legends, proverbs, verses, -and riddles. There was much in his experience which fits in with what -Mr. Cecil Sharp and Miss Neal of the Espérance Club, have lately been -demonstrating by their revivals of English Folk Songs and Dances: -namely, that there is an excellent literature and art which children -and common folk appreciate and assimilate as eagerly and excellently -as any one, and which it is the height of folly for cultured people -to despise; and his keen perception of the gap that separates the -art and literature accessible to the people from the art that by its -artificiality is beyond their reach, led him subsequently to undertake, -first a series of school primers, and then the re-telling of a number -of folk-tales and legends, which have reached more readers, and perhaps -benefited the world more, than anything else he has written. - -With penmanship it happened at Yásno-Polyána school, as with reading: - - The pupils wrote very badly, and a new master introduced writing - from copies (another exercise very sedate and easy for the - master). The pupils became dull, and we were obliged to abandon - calligraphy, and did not know how to devise any way of improving - their handwriting. The eldest class discovered the way for itself. - Having finished writing the Bible stories, the elder pupils began - to ask for their exercise-books to take home [probably to read to - their parents]. These were dirty, crumpled, and badly written. The - precise mathematician P. asked for some paper, and set to work - to rewrite his stories. This idea pleased the others. 'Give me, - too, some paper!'-- 'Give me an exercise-book!' and a fashion for - calligraphy set in, which still prevails in the upper class. They - took an exercise-book, put before them a written alphabet copy from - which they imitated each letter, boasting to one another of their - performance, and in two weeks' time they had made great progress. - -Grammar turned out to be an unsatisfactory subject, and to have hardly -any connection with correct writing or speaking. - - In our youngest--the third--class, they write what they like. - Besides that, the youngest write out in the evening, one at a - time, sentences they have composed all together. One writes, and - the others whisper among themselves, noting his mistakes, and only - waiting till he has finished, in order to denounce his misplaced - e or his wrongly detached prefix, or sometimes to perpetrate a - blunder of their own. To write correctly and to correct mistakes - made by others, gives them great pleasure. The elder boys seize - every letter they can get hold of, exercising themselves in - the correction of mistakes, and trying with all their might to - write correctly; but they cannot bear grammar or the analysis of - sentences, and in spite of a bias we had for analysis, they only - tolerate it to a very limited extent, falling asleep or evading the - classes. - -History on the whole went badly, except such bits of Russian history -as, when told poetically, aroused patriotic feelings. On one memorable -occasion the whole class went wild with excitement and eager interest. -That was when Tolstoy, with a poet's licence, told of the defeat of -Napoleon's invasion of Russia in 1812. - -Except in this legendary way, the teaching of history to children is, -in Tolstoy's opinion, useless. The historic sense develops later than -the artistic sense: - - In my experience and practice the first germ of interest in - history arises out of contemporary events, sometimes as a result - of participation in them, through political interest, political - opinions, debates, and the reading of newspapers. Consequently the - idea of beginning the teaching of history from present times should - suggest itself to every intelligent teacher. - -Of geography as a subject for the education of children, Tolstoy has an -even lower opinion: - - In Von Vizin's comedy _The Minor_, when Mitrofánoushka was being - persuaded to learn geography, his mother said: 'Why teach him - all the countries? The coachman will drive him where he may have - to go to.' Nothing more to the point has ever been said against - geography, and all the learned men in the world put together cannot - rebut such an irrefragable argument. I am speaking quite seriously. - What need was there for me to know where the river and town of - Barcelona are situated, when for thirty-three years I have not once - had occasion to use the knowledge? Not even the most picturesque - description of Barcelona and its inhabitants could, I imagine, - conduce to the development of my mental faculties. - -In fact, the sweeping conclusion at which Tolstoy arrives is that: - - I not only see no use, but I see great harm, in teaching history or - geography before the University is reached. - -And he leaves it an open question whether even the University should -concern itself with such subjects. - -Drawing was a favourite lesson with the boys; but I must confine myself -to a single extract on that subject: - - We drew figures from the blackboard in the following way: I first - drew a horizontal or a vertical line, dividing it into parts by - dots, and the pupils copied this line. Then I drew another or - several perpendicular or sloping lines, standing in a certain - relation to the first, and similarly divided up. Then we joined - the dots of these different lines by others (straight or curved), - and formed some symmetrical figure which, as it was gradually - evolved, was copied by the boys. It seemed to me that this was a - good plan: first, because the boy clearly saw the whole process of - the formation of the figure, and secondly, because his perception - of the co-relation of lines was developed by this drawing from the - board, much better than by copying drawings or designs.... - - It is nearly always useless to hang up a large complete picture - or figure, because a beginner is quite at a loss before it, as he - would be before an object from nature. But the growth of the figure - before his eyes has an important meaning. In this case the pupil - sees the backbone and skeleton of the drawing on which the body is - subsequently formed. The pupils were always called on to criticise - the lines and their relation, as I drew them. I often purposely - drew them wrong, to find out in how far their judgment of the - co-relation and incorrectness of the lines had been developed. Then - again, when I was drawing my figure I asked the boys where they - thought the next line should be added; and I even made one or other - of them invent the shape of the figure himself. - - In this way I not only aroused a more lively interest, but got the - boys to participate freely in the formation and development of - the figures; and this prevented the question. Why? which boys so - naturally put when they are set to draw from copies. - - The ease or difficulty with which it was understood, and the more - or less interest evoked, chiefly influenced the choice of the - method of instruction; and I often quite abandoned what I had - prepared for the lesson, merely because it was dull or foreign to - the boys. - -In the singing class, Tolstoy very soon found that notes written on -the staff were not easily grasped by the pupils, and after using the -staff for some ten lessons, he once showed the boys the use of numbers -instead, and from that day forward they always asked him to use -numbers, and they themselves always used numbers in writing music. -This method is much more convenient, Tolstoy considers, for explaining -both the intervals and the changes of key. The pupils who were not -musical soon dropped out of the class, and the lessons with those -who were, sometimes went on for three or four hours at a stretch. He -tried to teach them musical time in the usual manner, but succeeded -so badly that he had to take that and melody separately. First he -took the sounds without reference to time, and then beat the time -without considering the sounds, and finally joined the two processes -together. After several lessons he found that the method he had drifted -into, combined the chief features (though not some of the minor -peculiarities) of Chevet's method, which, as already mentioned, he had -seen in successful operation in Paris. After a very few lessons, two of -the boys used to write down the melodies of the songs they knew, and -were almost able to read music at sight. - -From the limited experience he had in teaching music, Tolstoy--to -quote his own words almost textually--became convinced that: (1) To -write sounds by means of figures is the most profitable method; (2) To -teach time separately from sound is the most profitable method; (3) -For the teaching of music to be willingly and fruitfully received, one -must from the start teach the _art_ and not aim merely at dexterity -in singing or playing. Spoilt young ladies may be taught to play -Burgmüller's exercises; but it is better not to teach the children of -the people at all, than to teach them mechanically; (4) Nothing so -harms musical instruction as what looks like a knowledge of music: -namely the performance of choirs, and performances at examinations, -speech-days, or in church; and (5) In teaching music to the people, the -thing to be aimed at is to impart our knowledge of the general laws of -music, but not the false taste we have developed among us. - -In one of the most remarkable of his articles, Tolstoy tells how he -discovered that Fédka and Syómka possessed literary ability of the -highest order. Composition lessons had not gone well, until one day -Tolstoy proposed that the children should write a story of peasant -life to illustrate a popular proverb. Most of them felt this to be -beyond their powers, and went on with their other occupations. One -of them, however, bade Tolstoy write it himself in competition with -them, and he set to work to do so, till Fédka, climbing on the back of -his chair, interrupted him by reading over his shoulder. Tolstoy then -began reading out what he had composed, and explaining how he thought -of continuing the story. Several of the boys became interested, not -approving of Tolstoy's work, but criticising and amending it, offering -suggestions and supplying details. Syómka and Fédka particularly -distinguished themselves, and showed extraordinary imagination, and -such judgment, sense of proportion, restraint, and power of clothing -their thoughts in words, that Tolstoy was carried away by the interest -of the work and wrote as hard as he could to their dictation, having -constantly to ask them to wait and not forget the details they had -suggested. Fédka--of whom Tolstoy says that 'The chief quality in every -art, the sense of proportion, was in him extraordinarily developed: -he writhed at every superfluous detail suggested by any of the other -boys,'--gradually took control of the work, and ruled so despotically -and with such evident right, that the others dropped off and went home, -except Syómka, who along his own more matter-of-fact line continued to -co-operate. - - We worked from seven in the evening till eleven. They felt neither - hunger nor weariness and were even angry with me when I stopped - writing; and they set to work to do it themselves turn and turn - about, but did not get on well and soon gave it up.... - - I left the lesson because I was too excited. - - 'What is the matter with you? Why are you so pale: are you ill?' - asked my colleague. Indeed, only two or three times in my life have - I experienced such strong emotion as during that evening.... - -Next day Tolstoy could hardly believe the experience of the night -before. It seemed incredible that a peasant boy, hardly able to read, -should suddenly display such marvellous command of artistic creative -power. - - It seemed to me strange and offensive that I, the author of - _Childhood_, who had achieved a certain success and was recognised - by the educated Russian public as possessing artistic talent, - should in artistic matters not merely be unable to instruct or - help eleven-year-old Syómka and Fédka, but should hardly be able, - except at a happy moment of excitement, to keep up with them and - understand them. - - Next day we set to work to continue the story. When I asked Fédka - if he had thought of a continuation, he only waved his hand and - remarked: 'I know, I know!... Who will do the writing?'... We - resumed the work, and again the boys showed the same enthusiasm, - and the same sense of artistic truth and proportion. - - Half-way through the lesson I had to leave them. They wrote two - pages without me, as just in feeling and as true to life as the - preceding ones. These two pages were rather poorer in detail, some - of the details were not quite happily placed, and there were also a - couple of repetitions. All this had evidently occurred because the - actual writing was a difficulty for them. On the third day we had - similar success.... There could no longer be any doubt or thought - of its being a mere accident. We had obviously succeeded in finding - a more natural and inspiring method than any we had previously - tried. - -This unfinished story was accidentally destroyed. Tolstoy was greatly -annoyed, and Fédka and Syómka, though they did not understand his -vexation, offered to stay the night at his house and reproduce it. -After eight o'clock, when school was over, they came, and (to -Tolstoy's great pleasure) locked themselves into his study, where at -first they were heard laughing but then became very quiet. On listening -at the door Tolstoy heard their subdued voices discussing the story, -and heard also the scratching of a pen. At midnight he knocked and -was admitted. Syómka was standing at the large table, writing busily; -his lines running crookedly across the paper and his pen constantly -seeking the inkstand. Fédka told Tolstoy to 'wait a bit,' and insisted -on Syómka's adding something more, to his dictation. At last Tolstoy -took the exercise-book; and the lads, after enjoying a merry supper of -potatoes and _kvás_, divested themselves of their sheepskin coats and -lay down to sleep under the writing table; their 'charming, healthy, -childish, peasant laughter' still ringing through the room. - -The story just mentioned, and other stories written by the children, -were published in the magazine; and Tolstoy declares them to be, in -their way, superior to anything else in Russian literature. It was -largely on the model of these peasant children's stories that, years -later, he wrote his own famous stories for the people. - -The rules for encouraging composition which he deduces from his -experience are these: - - (1) To offer as large and varied a choice of themes as possible; - not inventing them specially for the children, but offering such as - most interest the teacher and seem to him most important. - - (2) To give children stories written by children to read, and to - offer only children's compositions as models; because these are - juster, finer and more moral than those written by adults. - - (3) (Specially important.) Never, when looking through the - compositions, make any remarks to the children about the neatness - of the exercise-books, the handwriting, or the spelling; nor, above - all, about the construction of the sentences, or about logic. - - (4) Since the difficulty of composition lies not in size nor in - subject, nor in correctness of language, but in the mechanism of - the work, which consists: (_a_) in choosing one out of the large - number of thoughts and images that offer themselves; (_b_) in - choosing words wherewith to clothe it; (_c_) in remembering it - and finding a fitting place for it; (_d_) in remembering what - has already been written, so as not to repeat anything or omit - anything, and in finding a way of joining up what has preceded to - what succeeds; (_e_) and finally in so managing that while thinking - and writing at one and the same time, the one operation shall not - hamper the other,--I, having these things in view, proceeded as - follows. - - At first I took upon myself some of these sides of the work, - transferring them gradually to the pupils. At first, out of the - thoughts and images suggested, I chose for them those which seemed - to me best, and I kept these in mind and indicated suitable places - to insert them, and I looked over what had been written to avoid - repetitions, and I did the writing myself, letting them merely - clothe the thoughts and images in words. Afterwards I let them - select, and then let them look over what had been written, and - finally they took on themselves the actual writing.... - -One of the profoundest convictions impressed on Tolstoy's mind by his -educational experiments was that the peasants and their children have a -large share of artistic capacity, and that art is immensely important -because of its humanising effect on them, and because it arouses and -trains their faculties. Unfortunately the works: literary, poetic, -dramatic, pictorial and plastic, now produced, are being produced -expressly for people possessed of leisure, wealth, and a special, -artificial training, and are therefore useless to the people. This -deflection of art from the service of the masses of whom there are -millions, to the delectation of the classes of whom there are but -thousands, appears to him to be a very great evil. - -He says with reference to two realms of art which he had loved -passionately, and with which he was specially familiar: music and -poetry, that he noticed that the demands of the masses were more -legitimate than the demands of the classes. - - Terrible to say, I came to the conviction that all that we have - done in those two departments has been done along a false and - exceptional path, which lacks importance, has no future, and is - insignificant in comparison with the demands upon, and even with - the samples of, those same arts which we find put forward by the - people. I became convinced that such lyrical compositions as, - for example, Poúshkin's 'I remember the marvellous moment,' and - such musical productions as Beethoven's Last Symphony, are not so - absolutely and universally good as the song of 'Willy the Steward' - or the melody of 'Floating down the river, Mother Vólga'; and that - Poúshkin and Beethoven please us, not because they are absolutely - beautiful, but because we are as spoiled as they, and because they - flatter our abnormal irritability and weakness. How common it is to - hear the empty and stale paradox, that to understand the beautiful, - a preparation is necessary! Who said so? Why? What proves it? It - is only a shift, a loophole, to escape from the hopeless position - to which the false direction of our art, produced for one class - alone, has led us. Why are the beauty of the sun and of the human - face, and the beauty of the sounds of a folk-song, and of deeds of - love and self-sacrifice, accessible to every one, and why do _they_ - demand no preparation? - - For years I vainly strove to make my pupils feel the poetic - beauties of Poúshkin and of our whole literature, and a similar - attempt is being made by innumerable teachers not in Russia alone; - and if these teachers notice the results of their efforts, and will - be frank about the matter, they will admit that the chief result of - this attempt to develop poetic feeling, is to kill it; and that it - is just those pupils whose natures are most poetic who show most - aversion to such commentaries.... - - I will try to sum up all that I have said above. In reply to the - question: Do people need the _beaux arts_? pedagogues usually grow - timid and confused (only Plato decided the matter boldly in the - negative). They say: 'Art is needed, but with certain limitations; - and to make it possible for all to become artists would be bad for - the social structure. Certain arts and certain degrees of art can - only exist in a certain class of society. The arts must have their - special servants, entirely devoted to them,' They say: 'It should - be possible for those who are greatly gifted to escape from among - the people and devote themselves completely to the service of art.' - That is the greatest concession pedagogy makes to the right of each - individual to become what he likes. - - But I consider that to be all wrong. I think that a need to - enjoy art and to serve art, is inherent in every human being, to - whatever race or class he may belong; and that this need has its - right and should be satisfied. Taking that position as an axiom, - I say that if the enjoyment and production of art by every one, - presents inconveniences and inconsistencies, the reason lies in the - character and direction art has taken: about which we must be on - our guard, lest we foist anything false on the rising generation, - and lest we prevent it from producing something new, both as to - form and as to matter. - -Tolstoy goes so far as to doubt whether, so long as no suitable -literature is produced for the people, it is even worth their while to -learn to read. - - Looking closer at the results of the rudiments in the form in which - they are supplied to the masses, I think most people will decide - that the rudiments do more harm than good, taking into account - the prolonged compulsion, the disproportionate development of - memory, the false conception of the completeness of science, the - aversion to further education, the false vanity, and the habit of - meaningless reading acquired in these schools.... - - 'Let us print good books for the people!'... How simple and easy - that seems--like all great thoughts! There is only one obstacle, - namely that there exist no good books for the people, either here - or in Europe. To print such books, they must first be produced; and - none of our philanthropists think of undertaking _that_ work! - -Before closing this rapid summary of Tolstoy's educational writings, -let me quote a few more sentences which sum up his essential position: - - In my articles on Education I have given my theoretic reasons for - considering that only freedom on the part of the pupils to select - what they will learn and how they will learn it, can furnish a - sound basis for any instruction. In practice I constantly applied - those rules to the schools under my guidance ...and the results - were always very good both for the teachers and the pupils, as well - as for the evolution of new methods; and this I assert boldly, for - hundreds of visitors came to the Yásno-Polyána school and know how - it worked. - - For the masters, the result of such relations with the pupils was - that they did not consider any methods they happened to know, - to be the best, but they tried to discover new methods and made - acquaintance with other teachers whose ways they could learn. They - tested fresh methods, and above all, they themselves were always - learning. A master never allowed himself, in cases of failure, to - think that it was the pupils' fault: their laziness, naughtiness, - stupidity, deafness or stuttering; but he was convinced that the - fault was his own, and for every defect on the side of the pupil or - pupils, he tried to discover a remedy. - - For the pupils the results were that they learnt eagerly, always - begged to have additional lessons on winter evenings, and were - quite free in class--which, in my conviction and experience, is the - chief condition of successful teaching. Between the teachers and - the pupils friendly and natural relations always arose, without - which it is not possible for a teacher to know his pupils fully.... - - With reference to the methods of instruction, the results were that - no method was adopted or rejected because it pleased or did not - please the teacher, but only because the pupil, without compulsion, - accepted or did not accept it. But besides the good results which - unfailingly followed the adoption of my method both by myself and - by all--more than twenty--other teachers (I say 'unfailingly' - because we never had a single pupil who did not master the - rudiments)--besides these results, the adoption of the principles - of which I have spoken produced this effect, that during fifteen - years all the different modifications to which my method has been - subjected, have not only not removed it from the demands of the - people, but have brought it closer and closer to them.... In my - school... every teacher, while bringing his pupils forward, himself - feels the need of learning; and this was constantly the case with - all the teachers I had. - - Moreover, the very methods of instruction themselves--since they - are not fixed once for all but aim at finding the easiest and - simplest paths--change and improve according to what the teacher - learns from the pupils' relation to his teaching. - -The children had not to pay anything for attending the school, and the -relations between them and Tolstoy are illustrated by the account a -visitor has given of seeing Tolstoy rush through a gate followed by a -crowd of merry youngsters who were snow-balling him. Tolstoy was intent -on making his escape, but on seeing the visitor he changed his mind, -acknowledged his defeat, and surrendered to his triumphant pursuers. - -Tolstoy does not stand before the world to-day primarily as a -school-master, and even were I competent to deal with the subject, -it would exceed the limits of this biography to attempt a detailed -criticism of his precepts and practice; but he evidently possessed, as -he claims in one of his articles, 'a certain pedagogic tact'; and he -is clearly right in his belief that the rigid discipline of schools, -the lack of freedom and initiative, the continual demand for silence -and obedience, and the refusal to allow pupils to criticise the lessons -they receive, have a constantly stupefying effect. - -All that he allowed at Yásnaya Polyána was denied to us when I was at -Christ's Hospital, in 1868-1874; and I look back on those six years -of mental stultification as the most wretched of my life. At the -preparatory school in Hertford, so stupefied were the little boys by -terror and discipline, that when the head-master (traditionally an -incarnation of all the virtues) became grossly harsh and unfair, they -could not see what was happening until his insanity was so pronounced -that the doctors had to take him in hand: an event that occurred soon -after I had left for the upper school in London. - -There, one of the masters (who evidently did not believe that 'history -is experience teaching by example') in intervals between whacking -the boys on their backs or hands with a long cane, used, I remember, -emphatically to announce that 'dates and names are the most important -parts of history.' A Latin master, a barrister, who was usually busy -at some sort of law work when he should have been teaching us, used to -set us to learn by rote rules and illustrations which we did not in the -least understand. On one occasion the example given in the grammar was: - - _Opes irritamenta malorum effodiuntur._ - - Riches the incentives of crime are dug out of the earth. - -The top boy had learnt the rule and illustration by heart (which I -never could do); but, departing from his usual routine, the master -unexpectedly asked which Latin word corresponded to which English. Each -of the first twenty-four boys in the class in turn got caned and sent -to the bottom; so that by the time I, who had been last, had come to -the top, and it was my turn to reply, only one possible combination -remained untried, and I was able to announce that _effodiuntur_ meant -'are dug out of the earth.' Unluckily there was another rule that day, -and over this I, in turn, came to grief, and was caned and sent to the -bottom. - -In the drawing class I remember doing the outline of a cube to the -master's satisfaction, and being promoted to the shading class. I had -no idea how to shade, and the attempt I made was certainly a very bad -one; but instead of receiving advice or assistance, my ears were boxed -so violently that I should be tempted to attribute to that assault the -slight deafness from which I have since suffered, were it not that such -treatment was so common at Christ's Hospital, that none of the victims -whose hearing may have been impaired, could be sure to which of the -masters they owed that part of their preparation for the battle of life. - -I feel sure the stultifying effects of such cruel and senseless -treatment would have been even more serious, had not the school -authorities, by some strange oversight, allowed _one_ really readable -and interesting periodical to find a place among the Sunday magazines -and other sterilised literature obtainable in the School Library. This -one publication, which I read ardently during my school years, was -_Chambers's Journal_. It contained novels by James Payn, and other -matter suited to my powers of mental digestion. From smuggled copies of -Captain Marryat's novels I also got a good deal of culture: far more, I -am sure, than from any of the lessons we endured. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VIII - -Tolstoy's Educational articles, and N. V. Ouspensky, _Iz Proshlago_. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - MARRIAGE - -The Behrs visit Yásnaya. Proposal by thought-reading. The Diary. -Marriage. Ministers on magazine. The school closed and the magazine -stopped. Family happiness. Health. Fet's visit. Sergius born. Children. -_The Cossacks_ and _Polikoúshka_. Bees. Plays. _Confession._ Saving the -hay. _Decembrists._ Samára. Preparations for _War and Peace_. Collected -edition. Translations. Dislocates arm. Tatiána born. Fears of famine. -Sergius (brother) and Tánya Behrs. Nikólsky. Visits Borodinó. Tolstoy -at home and with the children. Relations with servants. Masquerade. -Moscow. Drawing school. Sculpture. Ilyá born. Pleads at court-martial. -Dr. Zahárin. _Smoke._ Fet's Literary Evening. _War and Peace._ -Schopenhauer. Pénza. Death of V. P. Bótkin. The Countess and the -children's education. English nurse. Tolstoy's habits. Visitors. Fet. -Tolstoy's ardour. Property. Untidiness. Respect for sleep. Newspapers. -Characteristics. Studies the drama. - - -TO one who admires Tolstoy's educational work, it is somewhat -disconcerting to see how scornfully he spoke of it sixteen years later -in his _Confession_. But that is always his way: the old is useless and -worthless and bad; only the new, the unachieved, the fresh ideal, is -admirable. For it, he decries all that the past has produced--including -himself and his former work. He makes his points broadly and -powerfully, but to understand, we must discriminate, and allow for an -artistic temperament tempting him to exaggerate. Let him however speak -for himself, that the reader may judge: - - On returning from abroad I settled in the country, and happened to - occupy myself with peasant schools. This work was particularly to - my taste, because in it I had not to face the falsity which had - become obvious to me and stared me in the face when I tried to - teach people by literary means. Here, also, I acted in the name - of Progress, but I already regarded Progress itself critically. - I said to myself: 'In some of its developments Progress has - proceeded wrongly; and with primitive peasant children one must - deal in a spirit of perfect freedom, letting them choose what - path of Progress they please.' In reality I was ever revolving - round one and the same insoluble problem, which was: How to teach - without knowing what? In the higher spheres of literary activity - I had realised that one could not teach without knowing what; - for I saw that people all taught differently, and by quarrelling - among themselves succeeded only in hiding their ignorance from one - another. But here, with peasant children, I thought to evade this - difficulty by letting them learn what they liked. It amuses me now, - when I remember how I shuffled in trying to fulfil my desire to - teach, while in the depth of my soul I knew very well that I could - not teach anything needful, for I did not know what was needful. - - After spending a year at school work, I went abroad a second time, - to discover how to teach others while myself knowing nothing. - - And it seemed to me that I had learnt this abroad, and in the year - of the peasants' Emancipation I returned to Russia armed with - all this wisdom; and having become an Arbiter, I began to teach - both the uneducated peasants in schools, and the educated classes - through a magazine I published. Things appeared to be going well, - but I felt I was not quite sound mentally, and that matters could - not long continue in that way. And I should perhaps then have come - to the state of despair at which I arrived fifteen years later, had - there not been one side of life still unexplored by me, and which - promised me happiness: that was marriage. - - For a year I busied myself with Arbitration work, the schools, and - the magazine; and I became so worn-out--as a result especially of - my mental confusion--and so hard was my struggle as Arbiter, so - obscure the results of my activity in the schools, so repulsive my - shuffling in the magazine (which always amounted to one and the - same thing: a desire to teach everybody, and to hide the fact that - I did not know what to teach) that I fell ill, mentally rather than - physically, and threw up everything, and went away to the Bashkírs - in the steppes, to breathe fresh air, drink _koumýs_, and live an - animal life. - - -1862 - -Tired of and dissatisfied with his work, and thinking he detected in -himself signs of the malady that had carried off two of his brothers, -he set off in May 1862 (accompanied by his servant Alexis and two of -his pupils) to undergo a koumýs (soured and fermented mares' milk) cure -in the Samára steppes east of the Vólga. - -He went first to Moscow, and his friend Raévsky has told how Tolstoy -came up to him in the Club there, and mentioned with great indignation -and vexation that his brother was playing cards and had lost Rs. -7000 in a few hours. 'How can men do such things?' said Tolstoy. -Half-an-hour later Raévsky saw Leo Tolstoy himself playing Chinese -billiards (a game something like bagatelle, played on a board with -wire impediments) and learnt that he had lost Rs. 1000 to the stranger -with whom he was playing! This was, I believe, the last occasion on -which Tolstoy played any game for stakes he found it difficult to pay. -The occurrence led to the premature publication of his novel _The -Cossacks_, which he had had in hand for several years, but to which he -still intended to add a second part. Not having Rs. 1000 (then about -Ł150) available, he let Katkóf, the well-known publicist, editor of -the _Moscow Gazette_ and of the monthly _Russian Messenger_, have the -story for that sum paid in advance. This 'Tale of the Year 1852,' as -the sub-title runs, is based on Tolstoy's Caucasian experiences. The -circumstances which led to its premature publication made the work -repugnant to him, and he never completed it. - -Among those to whom he mentioned the occurrence were the Behrs, of whom -Miss Sophie was already so interested in him that she wept at the news. -At their home he was always a welcome and intimate guest, and as time -went on he saw more and more of that family. - -From Moscow he proceeded to Tvér by rail, and thence by steamer down -the Vólga to Samára. - -At Kazán he stopped to visit his relation V. I. Úshkof: and from Samára -he wrote to Aunt Tatiána: - - _27 May 1862._ - - To-day I shall start to drive ninety miles from Samára to - Karalýk.... - - I have had a beautiful journey; the country pleases me very much; - my health is better, _i.e._ I cough less. Alexis and the boys are - alive and well, as you may tell their relations. Please write - me about Sergéy, or let him do so. Greet all my dear comrades - [probably the masters in the schools] for me, and request them to - write me of what goes on, and of how they are getting on.... - -In another letter, dated 28th June 1862, he wrote: - - It is now a month since I had any news of you or from home; - please write me about everybody: first, our family; secondly, - the (University) students [who acted as masters in the schools] - etc. Alexis and I have grown fatter, he especially, but we still - cough a little, and again he especially. We are living in a - Tartar tent; the weather is beautiful. I have found my friend - Stolýpin--now Atamán in Ourálsk--and have driven over to see him; - and have brought back from there a secretary; but I dictate and - write little. Idleness overcomes one when drinking koumýs. In - two weeks' time I intend to leave here, and I expect to be home - by St. Elijah's day [20 July, old style]. I am tormented in this - out-of-the-way place by not knowing what is going on, and also by - the thought that I am horribly behind-hand with the publication of - the magazine. I kiss your hand.... - -Just when Tolstoy was leaving Karalýk a most unexpected event was -occurring at Yásnaya, where his sister Mary was staying with Aunt -Tatiána. Owing to the denunciation of a police spy who, among other -lies, pretended to have discovered a secret door in Tolstoy's -house, the police authorities decided to search his estate; and -one morning--to the immense astonishment of the neighbouring -peasants--police, watchmen, officials, and gendarmes, under the -command of a Colonel, appeared upon the scene! In the school-house -a photographic apparatus was found: a thing sufficiently rare in a -Russian village in those days to evoke the suspicious inquiries of -the gendarme officer, to whom one of the student-teachers chaffingly -volunteered the information that it was kept to photograph Herzen (the -celebrated exile, then living in London); but nowhere were any secret -doors found. - -The floors of the stables were broken up with crowbars to see if -anything was hidden there. The pond was dragged, but nothing more -incriminating than crayfish and carp was found. All the cupboards, -drawers, boxes and desks in the house were opened and searched, and the -ladies were frightened almost to death. A police-officer from Toúla -would not even allow Tolstoy's sister to leave the library till he had -finished reading aloud in her presence and in that of two gendarmes, -Tolstoy's Diary and letters, which contained the most intimate secrets -of his life and which he had kept private since he was sixteen years -old. - -Finding nothing incriminating at Yásnaya, the representatives of -law and order next betook themselves to the other schools working -in conjunction with Tolstoy, and there also they turned tables and -cupboards upside down, seized exercise-books and primers, arrested the -teachers, and spread the wildest suspicions abroad among the peasants, -to whom school education was still a novelty held somewhat in suspicion. - -On receiving news of this event Tolstoy at once wrote to his aunt, the -Countess A. A. Tolstoy, asking her to speak to those who knew him well -and had influence, and on whose aid he could rely. Said he: - - I cannot and will not let this affair pass. All the activity in - which I found solace and happiness, has been spoilt. Aunty is so - ill from fright that she will probably not recover. The peasants - no longer regard me as an honest man--an opinion I had earned in - the course of years--but as a criminal, an incendiary, or a coiner, - whose cunning alone has enabled him to escape punishment. - - 'Eh, man, you've been found out! Don't talk to us any more about - honesty and justice--you've hardly escaped handcuffs yourself!' - - From the landed proprietors I need not say what a cry of rapture - went up. Please write to me as soon as possible, after consulting - Peróvsky [Count V. A. P.] and Alexéy Tolstoy [Count A. T., the - dramatist and poet] and any one else you like, as to how I am to - write to the Emperor and how best to present my letter. It is too - late to prevent the injury the thing has done, or to extricate - myself, and there is no way out except by receiving satisfaction as - public as the insult has been; and this I have firmly resolved on. - I shall not join Herzen; he has his way, I have mine. Neither will - I hide.... But I will loudly announce that I am selling my estate - and mean to leave Russia, where one cannot know from moment to - moment what awaits one.... - -At the end of an eight-page letter he mentions that the Colonel -of gendarmes, on leaving, threatened to renew his search till he -discovered 'if anything is hidden'; and Tolstoy adds, 'I have loaded -pistols in my room, and am waiting to see how this matter will end.' - -He also remarked: 'I often say to myself, How exceedingly fortunate -it was that I was not at home at the time! Had I been there, I should -certainly now be awaiting my trial for murder!' - -Soon after this, Alexander II spent some time at Petróvsky Park, near -Moscow. There Tolstoy presented a letter claiming reparation, which an -aide-de-camp undertook to give to the Emperor; and some weeks later the -Governor of Toúla transmitted to Tolstoy the Emperor's expression of -regret for what had occurred. - -It is easy to imagine the effect such an outrage as this police-search -would have on a man of Tolstoy's acute self-esteem, and how it would -intensify his hatred of Government. - -After his return from Samára, he saw more of the Behrs than ever. Fet, -whom he introduced to them, thus records his impressions of the family: - - I found the doctor to be an amiable old gentleman of polite - manners, and his wife a handsome, majestic brunette who evidently - ruled the house. I refrain from describing the three young ladies, - of whom the youngest had an admirable contralto voice. They all, - notwithstanding the watchful supervision of their mother and their - irreproachable modesty, possessed that attractive quality which the - French designate by the words _du chien_ [lively, full of go]. The - service and the dinner were admirable. - -Madame Behrs was on very friendly terms with Tolstoy's sister, the -Countess Mary; and before he went abroad Tolstoy had frequently, at the -house of the latter, played with the children of both families. In 1862 -he often visited the Behrs at Pokróvskoe-Glébovo, where they lived in a -_dátcha_ (country house) they occupied every summer. He nearly always -walked the eight miles from Moscow, and often took long rambles with -the family besides. The girls had been educated at home, but Sophia -Andréyevna, the second daughter, had passed a University examination -entitling her to the diploma qualifying to teach both in private and in -State schools. - -We may judge of Tolstoy's state of mind at this time by an entry in -his Diary, dated 23rd August: 'I am afraid of myself. What if this be -only a _desire_ for love and not real love? I try to notice only her -weak points, but yet I love.' And again, 'I rose in good health, with -a particularly clear head, and wrote easily, though the matter was -feeble. Then I felt more sad than I have done for a long time. I have -no friends at all. I am alone. I had friends when I served Mammon, but -have none when I serve truth.' - -On 26th August he notes that Sónya (Miss Sophia Behrs) gave him a story -to read, written by herself, and her description of the hero as a man -of 'unusually unattractive appearance, and changeable convictions' hit -him hard; but he was relieved to find that it was not meant for him. - -On his thirty-fourth birthday, 28th August 1862 (old style) he jotted -down in his Diary the words: 'Ugly mug! Do not think of marriage; your -calling is of another kind.' - -About this time the Behrs paid a two weeks' visit to Madame Behrs' -father's estate of Ívitsa, some thirty miles from Yásnaya, and _en -route_ they stopped a couple of days at Yásnaya to visit the Countess -Mary. The day after their arrival a picnic party was arranged with some -neighbours. It was haymaking time, and there was much haystack climbing -by the picknickers. The general impression was that Tolstoy was in love -with Lisa, the eldest Miss Behrs: this opinion being fostered by the -idea, then common in Russia, that an elder daughter should be disposed -of before a younger daughter may be courted. - -A few days later Tolstoy followed the Behrs to Ívitsa; and here the -scene occurred which he has utilised in _Anna Karénina_ when describing -Lévin's proposal to Kitty--a scene in which something approaching -thought-reading takes place. - -Sitting at a card-table with Miss Sophia Behrs, Tolstoy wrote the -initial letters of the sentence: - -'In your family a false opinion exists about me and your sister Lisa; -you and Tánitchka should destroy it.' - -Miss Sophia read the letters, understood what words they stood for, and -nodded her head. - -Tolstoy then wrote the initial letters of another sentence: - -'Your youth and need of happiness, to-day remind me too strongly of my -age and the impossibility of happiness.' - -The nature of the Russian language (with its inflections instead -of particles, and the absence of articles) somewhat diminishes the -miracle; but the test was a very severe one, and again the girl guessed -the words aright. The two understood one another, and their fate was -practically sealed. - -The Behrs returned to Pokróvskoe-Glébovo in September. Tolstoy -accompanied them on the carriage-journey back to Moscow and visited -them every day, bringing music for the young ladies, playing the piano -for them, and accompanying the youngest--whom he nicknamed 'Madame -Viardot' after the famous singer. - -On the 17th of that month (the name's day of Sophia) Tolstoy handed -his future wife a letter containing a proposal of marriage, which she -gladly accepted. Her father, displeased that the second daughter should -be preferred to the eldest, at first refused his assent. But Tolstoy -was strenuously insistent--I have even heard that he threatened to -shoot himself--and the doctor soon yielded to the united persuasion of -daughter and suitor. - -The bridegroom's sense of honour led him to hand his future wife the -Diary, in which, mingled with hopes, prayers, self-castigations and -self-denunciations, the sins and excesses of his bachelorhood were -recorded. To the girl, who had looked upon him as a personification -of the virtues, this revelation came as a great shock; but after a -sleepless night passed in weeping bitterly over it, she returned the -Diary and forgave the past. - -To get married it was necessary first to confess and receive the -eucharist. Tolstoy's own experiences in this matter are narrated in -Chapter I of Part V of _Anna Karénina_, where they are attributed to -Lévin. - -The marriage took place within a week of the proposal, namely on 23rd -September 1862, in the Court church of the Krémlin, the bridegroom -being thirty-four and the bride eighteen years of age. When the -ceremony was over the couple left Moscow in a _dormeuse_ (sleeping -carriage), and drove to Yásnaya Polyána, where Tolstoy's brother Sergéy -and Aunt Tatiána were awaiting them. - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY IN 1862, THE YEAR OF HIS MARRIAGE.] - -Fet records the letter in which Tolstoy informed him of his marriage: - - FÉTOUSHKA [an endearing diminutive of Fet] UNCLE, or simply - DEAR FRIEND AFANÁSY AFANÁSYEVITCH!--I have been married two weeks - and am happy, and am a new, quite a new man. I want to visit - you, but cannot manage it. When shall I see you? Having come to - myself, I feel that I value you very, very much. We have so many - unforgettable things in common: Nikólenka, and much besides. Do - drive over and make my acquaintance. I kiss Márya Petróvna's hand. - Farewell, dear friend. I embrace you with all my heart. - -In another letter belonging to the same period he writes: - - I am writing from the country, and while I write, from upstairs - where she is talking to my brother, I hear the voice of my wife, - whom I love more than the whole world. I have lived to the age of - thirty-four without knowing that it was possible to love, and to be - so happy. When I am more tranquil I will write you a long letter. - I should not say 'more tranquil,' for I am now more tranquil - and clear than I have ever been, but I should say, 'when I am - accustomed to it.' At present I have a constant feeling of having - stolen an undeserved, illicit, and not-for-me-intended happiness. - There ... she is coming! I hear her, and it is so good!... And why - do such good people as you, and, most wonderful of all, such a - being as my wife, love me? - -It did not much disturb his happiness, when, before Tolstoy had been -married a fortnight, an event occurred which might easily have led to -very disagreeable consequences. On 3rd October the Minister of the -Interior called the attention of the Minister of Education to the -harmful nature of the _Yásnaya Polyána_ magazine. This is what he wrote: - - A careful perusal of the educational magazine, _Yásnaya Polyána_, - edited by Count Tolstoy, leads to the conviction that that - magazine ... frequently propagates ideas which apart from their - incorrectness are by their very tendency harmful.... I consider - it necessary to direct your Excellency's attention to the general - tendency and spirit of that magazine, which often infringes the - fundamental rules of religion and morality.... I have the honour - to inform you, Sir, of this, in the expectation that you may be - inclined to consider it desirable to direct the special attention - of the Censor to this publication. - -Fortunately the decision of the matter did not lie with the Minister -of the Interior, but with the Minister of Education, who on receiving -this communication had the magazine in question carefully examined, -and, on 24th October, replied that he found nothing harmful or -contrary to religion in its tendency. It contained extreme opinions on -educational matters, no doubt, but these, he said, should be criticised -in educational periodicals rather than prohibited by the Censor. 'In -general,' added the Minister: - - I must say that Count Tolstoy's educational activity deserves full - respect, and the Ministry of Education is bound to assist and - co-operate with him, though it cannot share all his views, some of - which after full consideration he will himself probably reject. - -Other things besides the suspicion in which he was held by the Minister -of the Interior, tended to discourage Tolstoy. His magazine had few -subscribers and attracted but little attention. The year's issue was -causing him a loss of something like Rs. 3000 (say about Ł450)--a -larger sum than he could well afford to throw away. So he decided to -discontinue it after the twelfth number. The month after his marriage -he also closed the school, which was too great a tax on his time and -attention. - -It has often been said that the obstacles placed in his way by the -Government turned him aside from educational work, but in speaking -to me about it Tolstoy remarked that really the main factor was his -marriage, and his preoccupation with family life. - -Both he and his wife were absorbed by their personal happiness, though -from time to time small quarrels and misunderstandings arose between -them. So impulsive and strenuous a nature as Tolstoy's was sure to -have its fluctuations of feeling, but on the whole the ties binding -the couple together grew stronger and closer as the months passed into -years. - -The Countess's parents used to say: 'We could not have wished for -greater happiness for our daughter.' The Countess not only loved -Tolstoy dearly as a husband, but had the deepest admiration for him as -a writer. He on his side often said that he found in family life the -completest happiness, and in Sophia Andréyevna not only a loving wife -and an excellent mother for his children, but an admirable assistant -in his literary work, in which, owing to his careless and unmethodical -habits, an intelligent and devoted amanuensis was invaluable. The -Countess acquired remarkable skill in deciphering his often extremely -illegible handwriting, and was sometimes able to guess in a quite -extraordinary way the meaning of his hasty jottings and incomplete -sentences. - -One drawback to their almost complete happiness lay in the fact that -though active and possessed of great physical strength, Tolstoy -seldom enjoyed any long periods of uninterrupted good health. In his -correspondence we find frequent references to indisposition. In early -manhood, he seems to have distended his stomach, and, especially after -the hardships he endured during the war of 1854-5, he was subject to -digestive troubles for the rest of his days. - -Town life did not attract him. He had never felt at ease in what is -called high society; nor were his means large enough to enable him to -support a wife and family in a good position in town. Still, towards -the close of the year of his marriage, he and the Countess spent some -weeks in Moscow. - - -1863 - -They were however soon back at Yásnaya. In February Fet visited them -there, and found them overflowing with life and happiness. - -On 15th May, after the Tolstoys and Fet had by some chance just missed -meeting at the house of a neighbouring proprietor, Tolstoy wrote to his -friend: - - We just missed seeing you, and how sorry I am that we did! How - much I want to talk over with you. Not a day passes without our - mentioning you several times. My wife is not at all 'playing with - dolls.' Don't you insult her. She is my serious helpmate, though - now bearing a burden from which she hopes to be free early in - July. What won't she do afterwards? We are _ufanizing_[48] little - by little. I have made an important discovery, which I hasten to - impart to you. Clerks and overseers are only a hindrance to the - management of an estate. Try the experiment of dismissing them all; - then sleep ten hours a day, and be assured that everything will - get along _not worse_. I have made the experiment and am quite - satisfied with its success. - - [48] This word, when first invented by Nicholas Tolstoy, meant - ploughing, but it had by now come to mean farming in general. - - How, oh how, are we to see one another? If you go to Moscow with - Márya Petróvna and do not come to visit us, it will be dreadful - offensive. (My wife, who was reading this letter, prompted that - sentence.) I wanted to write much, but time lacks. I embrace you - with all my heart; my wife bows profoundly to you, and I to your - wife. - - _Business_: When you are in Orél, buy me 20 poods [720 lbs.] of - various kinds of twine, reins, and shaft-traces, if they cost less - than Rs. 2.30 per pood including carriage, and send them me by a - carter. The money shall be paid at once. - -Fet soon availed himself of the invitation, and after driving past -the low towers which mark the entrance to the birch alley leading to -the house, he came upon Tolstoy eagerly directing the dragging of a -lake and taking all possible care that the carp should not escape. -The Countess, in a white dress, came running down the alley, with a -huge bundle of barn-door keys hanging at her waist. After cordially -greeting the visitor, she, notwithstanding her 'exceedingly interesting -condition,' leapt over the low railing between the alley and the pond. -It will however be better to quote Fet's own account of his visit: - - 'Sónya, tell Nestérka to fetch a sack from the barn, and let us - go back to the house,' said Tolstoy--who had already greeted me - warmly, without losing sight of the carp-capturing operations the - while. - - The Countess immediately detached a huge key from her belt and - gave it to a boy, who started at a run to fulfil the order. - - 'There,' remarked the Count, 'you have an example of our method. We - keep the keys ourselves; and all the estate business is carried on - by boys.' - - At the animated dinner table, the carp we had seen captured made - their appearance. We all seemed equally at ease and happy.... - - That evening was one truly 'filled with hope.' It was a sight to - see with what pride and bright hope Tatiána Alexándrovna, the - kindest of aunts, regarded the young people she so loved; and how, - turning to me, she said frankly, 'You see, with _mon cher Léon_ of - course things could not be otherwise.' - - As to the Countess, life to one who in her condition leapt over - fences, could not but be lit up with the brightest of hopes. The - Count himself, who had passed his whole life in an ardent search - for novelties, evidently at this period entered a world till then - unknown, in the mighty future of which he believed with all the - enthusiasm of a young artist. I myself, during that evening, was - carried away by the general tone of careless happiness, and did not - feel the stone of Sisyphus oppressing me. - -Soon after this visit, on 28th June 1863, a son, Sergius, was born. -During the first eleven years of marriage, the Countess bore her -husband eight children, and another five during the next fifteen years: -making in all, thirteen children in twenty-six years. - -But we must turn back a few months to mention the stories by Tolstoy -which appeared during this year. - -In the January number of the _Russian Messenger_, Katkóf had published -_The Cossacks_, which Tolstoy had kept back to revise, and had only -delivered in December. - -In the February number of the same magazine appeared _Polikoúshka_, the -story of a serf who, having lost some money belonging to his mistress, -hangs himself. - -These stories are referred to in the following letter from Tolstoy to -Fet, undated, but written in 1863: - - Both your letters were equally important, significant, and - agreeable to me, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch. I am living in a - world so remote from literature and its critics, that on receiving - such a letter as yours, my first feeling is one of astonishment. - Whoever was it wrote _The Cossacks_ and _Polikoúshka_? And what's - the use of talking about them? Paper endures anything, and editors - pay for and print anything. But that is merely a first impression; - afterwards one enters into the meaning of what you say, rummages - about in one's head, and finds in some corner of it, among old, - forgotten rubbish, something indefinite, labelled _Art_; and - pondering on what you say, agrees that you are right, and even - finds it pleasant to rummage about in that old rubbish, amid the - smell one once loved. One even feels a desire to write. Of course, - you are right. But then there are few readers of your sort. - _Polikoúshka_ is the chatter of a man who 'wields a pen,' on the - first theme that comes to hand; but _The Cossacks_ has some matter - in it, though poor. I am now writing the story of a pied gelding, - which I expect to print in autumn. [It did not appear till 1888!] - But how can one write now? Invisible efforts--and even visible - ones--are now going on; and, moreover, I am again up to my ears in - farming. So is Sónya. We have no steward; we have assistants for - field-work and building; but she, single-handed, attends to the - office and the cash. I have the bees, the sheep, a new orchard, - and the distillery. It all progresses, little by little, though of - course badly compared with our ideal. - - What do you think of the Polish business? [the insurrection of - 1863, then breaking out]. It looks bad! Shall we--you and I and - Borísof--not have to take our swords down from their rusty nails?... - -The bees, which Tolstoy here places first among his out-door duties, -occupied much of his time, and he often spent hours studying the habits -of these interesting creatures. - -Tourgénef, writing to Fet, commented on _The Cossacks_ as follows: - - I read _The Cossacks_ and went into ecstasies over it; so did - Bótkin. Only the personality of Olénin spoils the generally - splendid impression. To contrast civilisation with fresh, primeval - Nature, there was no need again to produce that dull, unhealthy - fellow always preoccupied with himself. Why does Tolstoy not get - rid of that nightmare? - -Several months later he wrote: - - After you left, I read Tolstoy's _Polikoúshka_ and marvelled at the - strength of his huge talent. But he has used up too much material, - and it is a pity he drowned the son. It makes it too terrible. But - there are pages that are truly wonderful! It made a cold shudder - run down even my back, though you know my back has become thick and - coarse. He is a master, a master! - -Tolstoy was now fairly launched on the life he was destined to lead for -sixteen years: a quiet, country life, occupied with family joys and -cares. These years followed one another with so little change that the -story of a decade and a half can almost be compressed into a sentence. -Children came in quick succession, two great novels and an _ABC_ Book -were produced, a large orchard was planted with apple-trees, the -Yásnaya Polyána property was improved, and new estates were purchased -east of the Vólga. - -During the year 1863 Tolstoy wrote two plays, which have never been -published. One, a farcical comedy called _The Nihilist_, was privately -performed at home with great success. The second, also a comedy, -written on a topic of the day, was called _The Infected Family_. Hoping -to have it staged, Tolstoy took it to Moscow early in 1864; but the -theatrical season, which in Russia ends at the commencement of Lent, -was already too far advanced; and he never subsequently appears to have -troubled himself to have it either published or acted. - -The Countess Tolstoy's brother, S. A. Behrs (who from 1866 when he -was a boy of eleven, till 1878, spent every summer with the Tolstoys) -in his book, _Recollections of Count Tolstoy_, gives much interesting -information about the life at Yásnaya. He mentions that it was a -proverb about the hard fate of penniless noblemen, that prompted -Tolstoy to take all possible care to provide for the future of his -children; and the passage in the letter quoted above, about the bees, -sheep, new orchard and distillery with which he was occupied, shows how -this care was applied. - -In his _Confession_, Tolstoy says of the years now under review: - - Returning from abroad I married. The new conditions of happy family - life completely diverted me from all search for the general meaning - of life. My whole life was centred at that time in my family, wife - and children, and in care to increase our means of livelihood. My - striving after self-perfection and progress, was now again replaced - by the effort simply to secure the best possible conditions for - myself and my family. - - So another fifteen years passed. - - In spite of the fact that I regarded authorship as of no - importance, I yet, during those fifteen years, continued to write. - I had already tasted the temptation of authorship: the temptation - of immense monetary rewards and applause for my insignificant work; - and I devoted myself to it as a means of improving my material - position, and of stifling in my soul all questions as to the - meaning of my own life, or of life in general. - -Again, writing in 1903 of this middle period of his life, Tolstoy says: - - Then came a third, an eighteen-year period which may be the least - interesting of all (from my marriage to my spiritual re-birth) and - which from a worldly point of view may be called moral: that is to - say, that during those eighteen years I lived a correct, honest, - family life, not indulging myself in any vices condemned by public - opinion, but with interests wholly limited to selfish cares for - my family, for the increase of our property, the acquisition of - literary success, and all kinds of pleasure. - -(In the one place he speaks of 'fifteen years,' and in the other of -'eighteen years'; but that is his way, and chronological exactitude is -not the important matter here.) - -After the Emancipation, in many parts of Russia the landlords had more -or less serious difficulty with the peasants, among whom stories were -rife to the effect that the Tsar intended to give them all the land, -but had been deceived by the officials into only giving half; and, for -a time, riots were not infrequent. There was no serious trouble of -this sort on Tolstoy's estate; but his sister (whom I met at Yásnaya -in 1902, long after her husband's death and when she, a nun, had been -allowed out of her convent to visit her brother, after his very serious -illness) told me that on one occasion the peasants refused to make the -hay; and to save it from being lost, Tolstoy, his wife, the members of -the family, and the masters from eleven neighbouring schools, all set -to work with a will, and by their own strenuous exertions saved the -crop before the weather changed. - -On settling down to married life, Tolstoy formed the plan of writing a -great novel, and the epoch he at first intended to deal with was that -of the Constitutional conspiracy which came to a head on the accession -of Nicholas I to the throne in December 1825. That quite premature -military plot was quickly snuffed out. So little were things ripe for -it, that many even of the soldiers who shouted for a 'Constitution' -(_Konstitútsia_) thought they were demanding allegiance to Nicholas's -elder brother Constantine, who having married a Polish lady of the -Roman Catholic faith had renounced his right to the throne. While -considering the plan of his work, Tolstoy found himself carried back -to the scenes amid which his characters had grown up: to the time -of the Napoleonic wars and the invasion of Russia by the French in -1812. Here was a splendid background for a novel, and putting aside -_The Decembrists_ he commenced _War and Peace_, a work conceived on a -gigantic scale, and that resulted in a splendid success. - - -1864 - -His attention, as we have already seen, was however not wholly absorbed -by literature, but was divided between that and the management of his -property. He had during his stay among the Kirghiz in the Province -of Samára, noticed how extremely cheap and how fertile was the land -in those parts. He therefore wished to purchase an estate there, and -visited the district in the autumn of 1864, probably with that end in -view. How long he stayed there I do not know, but from a letter he -wrote to Fet on 7th October, saying, 'We start for home to-day and do -not know how we shall make our way to happy Yásnaya,' we know when -he returned. In November he again wrote to Fet, and mentioned the -laborious preparations he was at that time making for _War and Peace_: - - I am in the dumps and am writing nothing, but work painfully. You - cannot imagine how hard I find the preliminary work of ploughing - deep the field in which I must sow. To consider and reconsider all - that may happen to all the future characters in the very large work - I am preparing, and to weigh millions of possible combinations - in order to select from among them a millionth part, is terribly - difficult. And that is what I am doing.... - -Late in that month he wrote again to Fet: - - This autumn I have written a good deal of my novel. _Ars longa, - vita brevis_ comes to my mind every day. If one could but make time - to accomplish a hundredth part of what one understands--but only - a thousandth part gets done! Nevertheless the consciousness that - _I can_ is what brings happiness to men of our sort. You know that - feeling, and I experience it with particular force this year. - -The year 1864 saw the publication of the first collected edition of -Tolstoy's works, and though they have been already mentioned, it may -be as well to give a complete list of those twenty 'trials of the pen' -which preceded the appearance of _War and Peace_, and had already -sufficed to place Tolstoy in the front rank of Russian writers. The -following are their titles, with the years in which they were first -published. They suffice to fill four very substantial volumes. - - 1852 _Childhood._ - - 1853 _The Raid: A Volunteer's Story._ - - 1854 _Boyhood._ - - 1855 _Memoirs of a Billiard-Marker._ - - 1855 *_Sevastopol in December._ - - " *_Sevastopol in May._ - - " *_The Wood-Felling._ - - 1856 *_Sevastopol in August._ - - " _The Snow Storm._ - - " *_Two Hussars._ - - " *_Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment._ - - " _A Squire's Morning._ - - 1857 _Youth._ - - " _Lucerne._ - - 1858 _Albert._ - - 1859 _Three Deaths._ - - " _Family Happiness._ - - 1862 Educational articles in _Yásnaya Polyána_. - - 1863 _The Cossacks._ - - " _Polikoúshka._ - -As I am sometimes asked where satisfactory versions of these stories -can be found, I may say that I think the best version of _Childhood_, -_Boyhood_ and _Youth_[49] is Miss Isabel Hapgood's, and I make no -apology for quoting a letter Tolstoy wrote me on 23rd December 1901, -concerning the volume, _Sevastopol_,[50] translated by my wife and -myself, and containing the six stories marked * in the above list. I do -this with less hesitation, because his letter illustrates the cordial -way in which he encourages those who do any work he can approve of, in -connection with his own activity: - - [49] Published by Walter Scott, Ltd., London, and by T. Y. - Crowell and Co., New York. - - [50] Published by Messrs. A. Constable and Co., London, and - Funk and Wagnalls Co., New York. - - I think I already wrote you how unusually the volume pleases me. - All in it is excellent: the edition and the footnotes, and chiefly - the translation, and yet more the conscientiousness with which - all this has been done. I happened to open it at _Two Hussars_ and - read on to the end just as if it were something new that had been - written in English. - -One day in October Tolstoy went out for a ride on his favourite horse, -an English thoroughbred named Máshka. His borzoi dogs Lúbka and Krylát -accompanied him. After he had ridden some way, a hare suddenly started -up and the dogs rushed after it. Tolstoy had not come out with the -idea of hunting, but on seeing the dogs chasing the hare he could -not restrain himself, and galloped after them, uttering the hunting -cry, 'Atoú!' The weather was bad, the ground slippery, and the horse -stumbled at a narrow ravine and fell, dislocating and breaking its -rider's arm. The horse ran away, and Tolstoy, who was quite alone and -several miles from home, fainted. When he came to, he managed to drag -himself a distance of more than half a mile to the highroad, where he -lay in great pain. Some peasant carts passed by, but at first he could -not attract any one's attention. When at last he was noticed, in order -not to alarm his wife, he asked to be taken to the hut of an old wife, -Akoulína, famed as a bone-setter. In spite of all that she and her son -Iván could do--soaping, pulling, twisting and bandaging the arm--they -could not set it, and Tolstoy continued to suffer the greatest pain. - -The Countess, who had meanwhile heard of the accident, reached the hut -late at night. She at once arranged to have her husband taken home, and -sent to Toúla for a doctor. The latter arrived about 3 A.M., and after -administering chloroform, succeeded, with the aid of two labourers who -were called in to assist, in setting the arm. On coming to, Tolstoy's -profound disbelief in the efficiency of doctors, prompted him to send -for another surgeon. After a consultation the two physicians decided -that everything had been done properly, and that Tolstoy must lie up -for six weeks to allow the arm to recover. When that time was up, -Tolstoy asked for his gun and fired it off to test his arm. No sooner -had he done so than he again felt great pain. He thereupon wrote to his -father-in-law, Dr. Behrs, and on his advice went to Moscow to consult -the specialists. These differed among themselves, but after a week's -hesitation a fresh operation was decided upon, and was carried out by -two competent surgeons. This time it was quite successful, and in due -course the patient completely recovered the use of his arm. - -Meanwhile the Countess (now nursing her second child, a daughter named -Tatiána, who had been born on 4th October) remained at Yásnaya, where -her eldest child, Sergius, was taken dangerously ill with smallpox and -diarrhoea. This was the first occasion on which Tolstoy and his wife -had been separated. - -While in Moscow he concluded an arrangement with Katkóf by which he -received Rs. 500 (Ł75) per printed sheet of sixteen pages for the -serial rights in _War and Peace_, which appeared in the _Russian -Messenger_. This was just ten times the amount which, when he wrote his -first stories, Nekrásof had mentioned as the highest rate paid to any -one for the magazine rights in a story. - - -1865 - -On 23rd January 1865, when Tolstoy had got over his accident, he wrote -Fet another of those jocular letters which sometimes contain more of -the real truth than will bear saying seriously: - - Shall I tell you something surprising about myself? When the horse - threw me and broke my arm, and when I came to after fainting, - I said to myself: 'I am an author.' And I am an author, but a - solitary, on-the-quiet kind of author.... In a few days the first - part of 'The Year 1805' [so the first part of _War and Peace_ was - originally called] will appear. Please write me your opinion of it - in detail. I value your opinion and that of a man whom I dislike - the more, the more I grow up--Tourgénef. He will understand. All - I have printed hitherto I consider but a trial of my pen; what I - am now printing, though it pleases me better than my former work, - still seems weak--as an Introduction must be. But what follows - will be--tremendous!!!... Write what is said about it in the - different places you know, and especially how it goes with the - general public. No doubt it will pass unnoticed. I expect and wish - it to do so; if only they don't abuse me, for abuse upsets one.... - - I am glad you like my wife; though I love her less than my novel, - still, you know, she is my wife. Be sure you come to visit us; for - if you and Márya Petróvna do not stay here on your return from - Moscow it will really, without a joke, be too stupid! - -In May 1865 one sees by a letter of Tolstoy's to Fet that one of the -children had been ill and he himself had been in bed for three days and -barely escaped a fever. His wife's younger sister, Tánya, she of the -contralto voice who (with some admixture of his wife) served Tolstoy -as model for Natásha in _War and Peace_, was spending the summer at -Yásnaya, as she had done each year since her sister's marriage. The -Countess Mary and her children were also there. The children, he says, -were well, and out all day in the open air. He adds: - - I continue to write little by little, and am content with my work. - The woodcock still attract me, and every evening I shoot _at them_, - that is, generally, past them. My farming goes on well, that is to - say, it does not disturb me much--which is all I demand of it.... - -In reply to a suggestion from Fet, he goes on to say that he will -not write more about the Yásno-Polyána school, but hopes some day to -express the conclusions to which his three years' ardent passion for -that work had brought him. Then comes a reference to the state of -agricultural affairs after the Emancipation, and a passing allusion to -the question of famine--a subject destined to make great demands on -Tolstoy's attention in later years: - - Our affairs as agriculturists are now like those of a share-holder - whose shares have lost value and are unsaleable on 'Change. The - case is a bad one. Personally I only ask that it should not - demand of me so much attention and participation as to deprive me - of my tranquillity. Latterly I have been content with my private - affairs; but the general trend--with the impending misery of - famine--torments me more and more every day. It is so strange, and - even good and terrible. We have rosy radishes on our table, and - yellow butter, and well-baked, soft bread on a clean tablecloth; - the garden is green, and our young ladies in muslin dresses are - glad it is hot and shady; while _there_ that evil hunger-devil is - already at work, covering the fields with goose-weed, chafing the - hard heels of the peasants and their wives, and cracking the hoofs - of the cattle. Our weather, the corn, and the meadows, are really - terrible. How are they with you? - -The letter closes with advice to Fet to transfer his chief attention -from the land to literature, and a statement that Tolstoy himself has -done so, and is finding life less difficult. - -When Tolstoy went out hunting hares and foxes with borzoi dogs, Miss -Tatiána Behrs (the Tánya alluded to above) used often to accompany him. - -Between this lady and Count Sergius Tolstoy (Leo's elder brother) an -attachment had grown up which caused great distress to them both, for, -besides being twenty-two years older than the lady, Sergius was living -with, and had a family by, the gipsy mentioned in a previous chapter, -though he was not legally married. His affection for his family -prevented his yielding completely to his love for Tánya and asking her -to be his wife. The Behrs were quite willing that he should do so, and -the young lady would have accepted him, and was much pained by the -vacillation that resulted from the battle between his love for her and -his affection for his family. Ultimately he resolved to be faithful to -the union he had formed, and, in order to legitimise his children, went -through the form of marriage with their mother in 1867. Almost at the -same time, Tánya, having recovered from her disappointment, married a -Mr. Kouzmínsky. - -Here again one gets a slight glimpse of the experience of life which -has led Tolstoy, contrary to the opinion general among the Russian -'intelligents,' to advocate faithfulness at all costs to the woman with -whom one has once formed a union. - -A knowledge of Tánya's story adds to the interest with which, in -Tolstoy's great novel, one reads of Natásha Róstof's troubles and -ultimate happiness. - -Towards the end of May, Tolstoy visited the estate of Nikólsky (which -after the death of his brother Nicholas had become his), and had the -house there repaired. In June the whole family moved to Nikólsky, -where they lived very quietly; Tolstoy continuing to write _War and -Peace_. His friend D. A. Dyákof's estate was only ten miles away, and -Tolstoy saw much of him at this time, besides having him at other -times as a frequent visitor at Yásnaya. Dyákof was his chief adviser -in agricultural matters, as well as in his efforts to improve the -stock of his cattle, pigs and poultry. Almost the only other visitors -at Nikólsky were the Fets; and the poet records meeting there the -Countess's 'charming sister,' Tánya, and experiencing violent antipathy -for the sour koumýs, about which Tolstoy was enthusiastic, and a large -tub of which stood near the front door. - -While living at Nikólsky Tolstoy was invited for a fortnight by a -neighbouring landlord, Kiréyevsky, to a grand hunt, in which the -huntsmen wore special costumes, and luxurious dinners were served in -the woods. What interested Tolstoy most in all this was not the hunt, -but the opportunity it afforded him of studying types of the old and -new aristocracy. - -At this period of his life one hears of his playing the guitar and -singing passionate love-songs. - -During the autumn of 1865 Tolstoy, accompanied by his eleven-year-old -brother-in-law, visited the battlefield of Borodinó. They left Moscow -in Dr. Behrs' carriage, with post-horses. When the time came for them -to have something to eat, they found that the lunch basket had been -left behind, and they had only a small basket of grapes. Thereupon -Tolstoy remarked to his companion, 'I am sorry, not that we have left -the basket of food behind, but because your father will be upset -and will be angry with his man.' The journey took only one day, and -they stayed at the monastery erected in memory of those who fell in -the great fight. For two days Tolstoy investigated the scene of the -conflict which he was about to describe in his novel, and he then drew -the plan of the fight which appears in that work. Even in 1865 there -were but few survivors of the campaign of 1812 to be found in the -neighbourhood. - -Tolstoy used at this time to spend whole days in the Roumyántsef Museum -in Moscow, studying books and manuscripts relating to the times of -Alexander I, and especially to the reformatory and Masonic movements -which then sprang up in Russia, but were subsequently suppressed on -political grounds. - -S. A. Behrs tells us that Tolstoy - - was always fond of children, and liked to have them about him. He - easily won their confidence, and seemed to have found the key to - their hearts. He appeared to have no difficulty in suiting himself - to a strange child, and with a single question set it completely at - ease, so that it began at once to chat away with perfect freedom. - Independently of this, he could divine a child's thought with - the skill of a trained educationalist. I remember his children - sometimes running up to him, and telling him they had a great - secret; and when they persisted in refusing to divulge it, he would - quietly whisper in their ears what it was. 'Ah, what a papa ours - is! How did he find it out?' they would cry, in astonishment. - -He also says: - - Gifted by nature with rare tact and delicacy, he is extremely - gentle in his bearing and conduct to others. I never heard him - scold a servant. Yet they all had the greatest respect for him, - were fond of him, and seemed even to fear him. Nor, with all his - zeal for sport, have I ever seen him whip a dog or beat his horse. - -A servant who lived with him more than twenty years has said: 'Living -in the Count's house from my childhood, I loved Leo Nikoláyevitch as -though he were my father'; and in another place he remarks: - - The Count had a stern appearance, but treated the servants - excellently, and made things easy for all strangers whom he met. He - has a very good heart, and when he was cross with me for anything, - I, knowing his character, used at once to leave the room, and when - next he called me, it was as though nothing unpleasant had happened. - -Speaking of Tolstoy's later years the same servant says: - - Leo Nikoláyevitch has now become quite a different man. From 1865 - to 1870 he was active in managing the estate, and was fond of cows, - bred sheep, looked after the property, and, in a word, attended - to everything. At that time he was hot-tempered and impulsive. He - would order the trap to be brought when he wanted to go hunting. - His man, Alexis, would bring him his hunting-boots, and the Count - would shout at him, 'Why have you not dried them? You are not - worth your salt!' Alexis, knowing the Count's character, would - take the boots away, and bring them back almost directly. 'There! - now they're all right,' the Count would say, and would brighten up - instantly. - -His love of the country and his dislike of towns sprang partly from his -keen appreciation of the charm and loveliness of Nature. He saw fresh -beauty every day, and often exclaimed: 'What wealth God has! He gives -each day something to distinguish it from all the rest.' - -Sportsman and agriculturist himself, he maintains that sportsmen and -agriculturists alone know Nature. To quote Behrs again: - - No bad weather was allowed to interfere with his daily walk. He - could put up with loss of appetite, from which he occasionally - suffered, but he could never go a day without a sharp walk in the - open air. In general, he was fond of active movement, riding, - gymnastics, but particularly walking. If his literary work chanced - to go badly, or if he wished to throw off the effects of any - unpleasantness, a long walk was his sovereign remedy. He could - walk the whole day without fatigue; and we have frequently ridden - together for ten or twelve hours. In his study he kept a pair of - dumb-bells, and sometimes had gymnastic apparatus erected there. - -All luxury was distasteful to him; and much that ordinary people regard -as common comforts, seemed to him harmful indulgences, bad for the -souls and bodies of men. Nothing could well be more simple than the -arrangement of his house at Yásnaya, substantial and solidly built as -it was, with its double windows, and the Dutch stoves so necessary to -warm a Russian house. - -He was not at all particular about what he ate, but objected to a -soft bed or spring mattress, and at one time he used to sleep on a -leather-covered sofa. - -He dressed very simply, and when at home never wore starched shirts or -tailor-made clothes, but adapted to his own requirements the ordinary -Russian blouse, having it made of woollen stuff for winter, and of -linen for summer. His out-door winter dress was also an adaptation of -the sheepskin _shoúba_ and peasants' _caftán_, made of the plainest -material; and these afforded such good protection from the weather that -they were often borrowed by members of the household as well as by -visitors. - -During the writing of _War and Peace_ Tolstoy generally enjoyed good -spirits, and on days when his work had gone well, he would gleefully -announce that he had left 'a bit of my life in the inkstand.' One of -his chief recreations was to go out hare-hunting with borzoi dogs, and -this he often did in company with a neighbouring landed proprietor, -Bíbikof. - -From October 1865 he ceased to keep his Diary, and did not renew it -during the period covered by this volume. - - -1866 - -On Twelfth Night a grand masquerade was held at Yásnaya, and the -festivities were kept up till past two in the morning, and were -followed by a troika drive next day. - -That same January the family moved to Moscow, where they hired a -six-roomed apartment for Rs. 155 a month (say about Ł23); and there -they remained for six weeks while the second part of _War and Peace_ -was being printed for the _Russian Messenger_. - -Among the friends Tolstoy saw most of at this time were Aksákof and -Prince Obolénsky. He also attended the Moscow drawing school, and he -tried his hand at sculpture--modelling a bust of his wife. It does not -appear, however, that he continued this occupation long. - -In May 1866 a second son, Ilyá, was born, and an English nurse -introduced into the family. - -During this summer an infantry regiment was stationed near Yásnaya, -in which a young Sub-Lieutenant named Kolokóltsef was serving, whom -the Countess Tolstoy had known in Moscow. He visited the Tolstoys, -and introduced to them his Colonel Únosha, and his fellow-officer -Ensign Stasulévitch (brother of the Liberal editor of the monthly -magazine, _The Messenger of Europe_), who had been degraded to the -ranks because, while he was on prison-duty, a prisoner had escaped. -Ensign Stasulévitch was middle-aged, but he had only recently regained -his rank as officer and joined the regiment commanded by his former -comrade, Colonel Únosha. - -One day Stasulévitch and Kolokóltsef called on Tolstoy and told him -that a soldier, serving as secretary in one of the companies of the -regiment, had struck his Company Commander, and was to be tried by -court-martial. They asked Tolstoy to undertake the man's defence, and -he, having always regarded capital punishment with abhorrence, readily -agreed to do so. - -The circumstances of the case were these. The soldier, Shiboúnin, was -a man of very limited intelligence, whose chief occupation was writing -out reports. When he had any money he spent it on solitary drinking. -The Captain in command of his company, a Pole, apparently disliked him, -and frequently found fault with his reports and made him rewrite them. -This treatment Shiboúnin bitterly resented; and one day, when he had -been drinking, on being told to rewrite a document he had prepared, -he insulted and struck the Captain. By law the penalty for a private -who strikes his officer is death. Tolstoy nevertheless hoped to save -the man's life, and obtained permission to plead on his behalf. The -trial took place on 6th June, and the members of the court-martial were -Colonel Únosha, Stasulévitch, and Kolokóltsef; the latter being merely -a light-headed youngster. - -Tolstoy, when telling me of the incident, remarked that of the four -occasions on which he has spoken in public, this was the time that -he did so with most assurance and satisfaction to himself. He had -written out his speech; the main point of which was that Shiboúnin was -not responsible for his actions, being abnormal, and having from the -combined effect of intemperance and the monotony of his occupation, -become idiotic and obsessed by an idea that his Company Commander did -not understand report writing, and unfairly rejected work faultlessly -done. The law decrees a mitigation of sentence for crimes committed by -those who are not in the full possession of their senses; and as this -contradicts the paragraph allotting death as the sole punishment for a -soldier who strikes his officer, Tolstoy argued that mercy should be -extended to the prisoner. - -The Court adjourned to consider its verdict, and (as Tolstoy -subsequently learnt) Stasulévitch was in favour of mercy. The Colonel, -who was more of a military machine than a human being, demanded the -death sentence, and the decision therefore rested with the boyish -Sub-Lieutenant, who (submitting to his Colonel) voted for death. - -Tolstoy wished to appeal (through his aunt, the Countess A. A. Tolstoy) -to Alexander II for a pardon; but with characteristic disregard of -details, he omitted to mention the name of the regiment in which the -affair had occurred, and this enabled the Minister of War, Milútin, -to delay the presentation of the petition until Shiboúnin had been -shot; which occurred on 9th August. Tolstoy's appeal never, therefore, -reached the Emperor. - -In contrast with the action of the Colonel and the Minister, was -that of the peasants of the district, who flocked in crowds to see -the prisoner; bringing him milk, eggs, home-made linen and all the -gifts their poverty could afford. When the day of execution arrived, -Shiboúnin went quite impassively to his death; to all appearance -incapable of understanding what was happening. The people thronged -around the post to which he was to be tied--the women weeping and -some of them fainting. They fetched a priest to perform Masses at -his grave, and paid for the service to be repeated all day. At night -contributions of copper money, linen, and candles such as are burnt in -Russian churches, were laid upon his grave. Next day the Masses were -recommenced, and were continued until the local police forbade any more -religious services, and levelled the grave that the people might not -continue to visit it. - -The knowledge of such a difference between the spirit of the governors -and the governed, helps us once again to understand Tolstoy's -ultimate conviction that Government and the administration of law are -essentially evil things, always tending to make the world worse and not -better. In later life we may be sure he would not have been content to -base his plea for mercy on merely legal grounds. - -From time to time he continued to be troubled with ill-health; for -instance, in July 1866 he writes that he is confined to the house with -pains in the stomach which make it impossible for him to turn quickly. - -In November--contrary to what he had often said in the past and was to -return to in later life--he expresses his sense of the importance of -authorship. Fet, criticising something in _War and Peace_, had quoted -the words, _irritabilis poetarum gens_, and Tolstoy, replying 'Not I,' -welcomes the criticism, begs for more, and goes on to say: - - What have you been doing? Not on the Zémstvo [County Council] - or in farming (all that is compulsory activity such as we do - elementally and with as little will of our own as the ants who make - an ant-hill; in that sphere there is nothing good or bad), but - what are you doing in thought, with the mainspring of your being, - which alone has been, and is, and will endure in the world? Is that - spring still alive? Does it wish to manifest itself? How does it - express its wish? Or has it forgotten how to express itself? That - is the chief thing. - -By the autumn of this year the railway southwards from Moscow to Koursk -had been constructed as far as Toúla, making it easier to get from -Yásnaya to Moscow, and to the rest of Europe. Yet Tolstoy comparatively -seldom felt tempted to leave his much-loved, tranquil, busy, country -life, in which alone he found himself able to work with the maximum of -efficiency. - -About this time he undertook the planting of a birch wood, which has -since grown up and become valuable. - - -1867 - -During the summer of 1867 Tolstoy, despite the dislike and distrust -of doctors--which he shares with Rousseau, and which he has again and -again expressed in his works--was induced by the state of his health -and by his wife's persuasion, to consult the most famous Moscow doctor -of the time, Professor Zahárin, on whose advice he drank mineral water -during several weeks. - -Writing to Fet he says: - - If I wrote to you, dear friend, every time I think of you, you - would receive two letters a day from me. But one cannot get - everything said, and sometimes one is lazy and sometimes too busy, - as is the case at present. I have recently returned from Moscow - and have begun a strict cure under the direction of Zahárin; and - most important of all, I am printing my novel at Ris's, and have - to prepare and send off MSS. and proofs every day under threat of - a fine and of delayed publication. That is both pleasant and also - hard, as you know. - -He goes on to criticise Tourgénef's novel, _Dym_ (_Smoke_), which had -appeared that year: - - About _Smoke_ I meant to write long ago, and, of course, just what - you have now written. That is why we love one another--because we - think alike with the 'wisdom of the heart' as you call it. (Thank - you very much for that letter also: 'the wisdom of the heart' and - 'the wisdom of the mind' explain much to me.) About _Smoke_, I - think that the strength of poetry lies in love; and the direction - of that strength depends on character. Without strength of love - there is no poetry; but strength falsely directed--the result of - the poet's having an unpleasant, weak character--creates dislike. - In _Smoke_ there is hardly any love of anything, and very little - poetry. There is only love of light and playful adultery, and - therefore the poetry of that novel is repulsive. That, as you - see, is just what you write about it. Only I fear to express - this opinion because I cannot look soberly at the author, whose - personality I do not like; but I fancy my impression is the general - one. One more writer played out! - -In November 1867 we find the whole family again established for a while -in a lodging in Moscow, where they seem to have remained for a large -part of the winter. - -Here Fet visited Tolstoy and announced to him that he had decided to -arrange a Literary Evening for the benefit of the famine-stricken -peasants of Mtsensk, the district in which Fet's estate lay. Tolstoy -met the suggestion with irony, maintaining that Fet had invented the -famine; and in reply to a request that he would ensure the success of -the evening by reading something, flatly refused to do so, declaring -that he never had and never could do such a thing as read in public. -Still, he lent Fet the chapter of _War and Peace_ containing the -wonderful description of the retreat of the Russian army from Smolénsk -in fearful drought. This as yet existed only in proof, not having been -published. (It forms Chapter V of Part X of Volume II in Mrs. Constance -Garnett's version: the best English rendering of that novel.) Read -by Prince Kougoúshef, the poet and dramatist, it evoked thunders of -applause. - - -1868 - -On 12th April 1868 Tourgénef, writing to Fet, said: - - I have just finished the fourth volume of _War and Peace_. - There are things in it that are unbearable, and things that are - wonderful; and the wonderful things (they predominate) are so - magnificently good that we have never had anything better written - by anybody; and it is doubtful whether anything as good has been - written. - -About the same time V. P. Bótkin wrote from Petersburg: 'Tolstoy's -novel is having a really remarkable success; every one here is reading -it, and they not merely read it but become enthusiastic about it.' - - -1869 - -The Epilogue was not completed till late in 1869. On 30th August -Tolstoy writes: 'Part VI [_i.e._ Part II of the Epilogue] which I -expected to have finished a month ago, is not ready'; and then in the -next sentence, he goes into ecstasies over Schopenhauer: - - Do you know what this summer has been for me? An unceasing ecstasy - over Schopenhauer, and a series of mental enjoyments such as I - never experienced before. I have bought all his works, and have - read and am reading them (as well as Kant's). And assuredly no - student in his course has learnt so much and discovered so much - as I have during this summer. I do not know whether I shall ever - change my opinion, but at present I am confident that Schopenhauer - is the greatest genius among men. You said he had written something - or other on philosophic subjects. What do you mean by 'something - or other'? It is the whole world in an extraordinarily vivid and - beautiful reflection. I have begun translating him. Won't you - take up that work? We would publish it together. After reading - him I cannot conceive how his name can remain unknown. The only - explanation is the one he so often repeats, that except idiots - there is scarcely any one else in the world.... - -He goes on to say that he was starting next day for the Government of -Pénza to look at an estate he meant to buy 'in those out-of-the-way -parts.' The servant who accompanied Tolstoy has told how they travelled -third class from Moscow to Nízhni, and how Tolstoy chatted with his -fellow-travellers, so that many of them took him 'for a common man.' -The idea of buying the estate in Pénza was ultimately abandoned. - -He had by then completed the last part of _War and Peace_, which was -to appear complete in book form in November. Two volumes had been -published in 1866, three more in 1868, and the sixth was not ready till -this year, 1869. (In subsequent editions the book was rearranged, first -into five and then into four volumes.) - -Though he had so completely conquered the laziness of which he accused -himself in early manhood as to have become a regular, indefatigable and -extremely hard worker, yet after the completion of so gigantic a task -he felt the need of recuperation and in summer wrote to Fet: 'It is now -my deadest time: I neither write nor think, but feel happily stupid,' -and he adds that he goes out shooting woodcock and has killed eight at -an outing. - -That at this time he already felt something of the strong repugnance -he so strenuously expressed in later years for luxury and profuse -expenditure, is indicated by his comment on the death of his -acquaintance, the author V. P. Bótkin, which took place in 1869. The -latter, a member of a wealthy family of tea-merchants, having lived -with economy till he knew his death was approaching, then hired a -splendid lodging in Petersburg, fitted it up with all possible comfort -and luxury, engaged a _chef_ from the kitchen of the Tsarévitch, paid -daily attention to the dinner _menu_, and engaged famous musicians to -perform quartets at his lodgings. To the magnificent feasts he gave -every day (at which, owing to the state of his health, he himself -participated chiefly as a spectator) he gathered a select circle of -those friends whose conversation interested him. He told his brother -that these arrangements for the close of his life gave him the keenest -pleasure, and that 'birds of Paradise are singing in my soul.' On 4th -October a quartet and a banquet had been arranged as usual, and many -guests were expected--but V. P. Bótkin lay dead in his bed. - -Tolstoy, hearing of this, wrote to Fet: - - I was terribly shocked by the character of V. P. Bótkin's death. If - what is told of it is true, it is terrible. How is it that among - his friends not one was found to give to that supreme moment of - life the character suitable to it? - -Before _War and Peace_ was finished, the Countess had borne four -children, the fourth being a boy, born on 20th May 1869, and christened -Leo--nursing them all herself, as she did her subsequent children, -with two exceptions mentioned later on. Her willingness to do her duty -in this respect was exceptional among women of her class, for the -employment of wet-nurses was extremely common in Russia. - -Up to the age of ten, the children were taught Russian and music by -the Countess, and she even found time to make their clothes herself -till they reached that age. Besides managing the household, her brother -tells us that during the composition of _War and Peace_ she found time -to copy it out no less than seven times, a statement not to be taken -literally: for greatly as Tolstoy believes in the proverb that 'Gold -is got by sifting,' and indefatigably as he revises his work, not all -the chapters of _War and Peace_ will have been altered that number of -times. With Tolstoy the children learnt arithmetic; and they learnt to -read French out of illustrated volumes of Jules Verne. - -In all that concerned the education of the children, his wife at this -time willingly constituted herself the executant of her husband's -decisions, which were based largely on J. J. Rousseau's _Émile_, and -were relaxed only in so far as the Countess was unable to carry them -out, and as Tolstoy found himself too much occupied with other affairs -to attempt to do so. Later on there was less accord between the parents. - -With the first child they tried to do without a nurse, but the attempt -was unsuccessful, and subsequently Russian nurses and foreign _bonnes_ -were employed. - -Toys were not allowed in the nursery, but much liberty was given to -the children. No violent or severe punishments were inflicted on them, -and none but their parents might award the punishments that were -administered. They aimed at gaining their children's confidence by -timely petting and kindly treatment. - -If one of the children told a falsehood, this was treated as a serious -matter, and the punishment usually consisted in the parents treating -the child coldly. As soon, however, as it showed that it was really -sorry, the punishment ceased; but a child was never persuaded to say it -was sorry or to promise not to repeat its fault. - -All the grown-up people in the house were expected to remember that -children are apt to copy and imitate all that they see and hear; and -the children were not kept away from the adults, except at lesson time. -Consequently when eight o'clock came and the children went to bed, -Tolstoy would often remark: 'Now, we are freer!' - -Partly that they might learn English, partly because Tolstoy believed -that education was freer in England than elsewhere, young English -governesses were engaged to take charge of his children from the age -of three to nine. He was extremely fortunate in his first choice, for -the young lady remained with the Tolstoys for six years, and after her -marriage continued in most friendly relations with the whole family. - -He aimed at acquainting the children with Nature, and developing their -love of it, of animals, and of insects. He liked to let them realise -their impotence and their complete dependence on their elders, but he -always did this with kindly consideration. - -The children were not allowed to order the servants about, but had to -_ask_ them for anything they wanted; and that a good example might be -set, every one in the house was expected to do the same. This was the -more important, because the peasant servants in Russia, even after the -Emancipation, were scarcely regarded as belonging to the same race -of human beings as their masters, and a famous Russian author could -say without any exaggeration, 'The balcony was rotten. Only servants -went there; the family did not go there.' But, to avoid giving a wrong -impression, I must here make a reservation. Just because there was no -idea of the two classes overlapping, and because so wide a gap existed -between them that they dressed quite differently (the peasants having -their own costume and style of garments) very cordial and sincere good -feeling often grew up between master and man, or between proprietress -and servant, and real human interest, such as is shown in Tolstoy's -descriptions of the servants in _Childhood_, and in his other stories. -It was, and is, not at all unusual for Russian servants to intervene -in the conversation of the family or visitors; and the whole relation -between employers and employed was quite different to what it is in -England, where on Sundays the maid might be mistaken for her mistress, -except that she often looks more attractive than the latter. - -The plan adopted in the Yásno-Polyána school, where no child was -obliged to learn anything it did not care to learn, had to be abandoned -in the family; but some scope was allowed to the children to reject -what they had no capacity for, and they were never punished for -neglecting to prepare lessons, though they were rewarded when they -learnt well. - -To illustrate Tolstoy's way of developing the minds of those about him, -Behrs tells of his own case when, as a youth, he stayed at Yásnaya: - - Regardless of my youth at the time, I remember that Tolstoy - discussed quite seriously with me all the scientific and - philosophic questions it came into my head to put to him. He always - answered simply and clearly, and never hesitated to admit the fact - if he himself did not understand this or that matter. Often my talk - with him took the form of a dispute, on which I embarked in spite - of my consciousness of his immense superiority. - -The children were always eager to go for walks with their father, to -answer his call to practise Swedish gymnastics, and to be on his side -in any game he taught them. In winter they skated a good deal; but -clearing the snow off the pond under his leadership was an even greater -pleasure than the skating itself. - -Before breakfast he would go for a walk with his brother-in-law, or -they would ride down to bathe in the river that flows by one side of -the estate. At morning coffee the whole family assembled, and it was -generally a very merry meal, Tolstoy being up to all sorts of jokes, -till he rose with the words, 'One must get to work,' and went off -to his study, taking with him a tumbler full of tea. While at work -in his room not even his wife was allowed to disturb him; though at -one time his second child and eldest daughter, Tatiána, while still -quite a little girl, was privileged to break this rule. The rare -days (generally in summer) when he relaxed, were very welcome to the -children, for their father's presence always brought life and animation -with it. Generally after dinner, before resuming work, he would read a -book not directly connected with the task he had in hand. It was often -an English novel; and we hear of his reading Anthony Trollope with -approval, Mrs. Henry Wood, who, he says, made a great impression on -him, and Miss Braddon. His dislike of George Sand remained unshaken, -and he considered _Consuelo_ to be a mixture of the pretentious and the -spurious. Goethe (especially _Faust_) he admired; while Moličre's plays -and Hugo's _Les Misérables_ appealed to him very strongly indeed. In -the evening he was fond of playing duets with his sister. He used to -find it hard to keep up with her in playing long pieces with which he -was not quite familiar, and when in difficulties he would say something -to make her laugh, and cause her to play slower. If he did not succeed -by means of this ruse, he would sometimes stop and solemnly take off -one of his boots, as though that must infallibly help him out of the -difficulty; and he would then recommence, with the remark, 'Now, it -will go all right!' - -During the early years of his married life few visitors came to -Yásnaya, except the numerous members of the Tolstoy-Behrs families, -who stayed there chiefly in summer. The poet A. A. Fet, D. A. Dyákof, -whom he had known from boyhood and had described in _Youth_, N. N. -Stráhof, the philosopher and critic, for whose judgment he had great -respect and whom he frequently consulted throughout his literary -career, and Prince L. D. Ouroúsof, a cousin of the Prince Ouroúsof he -had known during the siege of Sevastopol, seem to have been almost the -only friends who visited him in the years first following his marriage; -and this suited Tolstoy very well, for to entertain many visitors -would have seriously interrupted the absorbing work in which he was -continually engaged. - -Fet has so often been mentioned in this volume that it is time to -devote a few lines to describing a man who has come in for much abuse -on account of the anti-Emancipationist sympathies expressed in some of -his writings. Like Tolstoy, he had grown up with no idea that it is -incumbent on men of education and capacity to organise the society of -which they are members, or by political action to remedy such abuses -as inevitably arise among human beings who do not keep the task of -systematic social organisation constantly in view. Of the impression -Fet's political opinions made on the Liberals, one may judge by a -remark Tourgénef addressed to him in a letter written in 1874: 'Twenty -years ago, at the height of Nicholas I's _régime_, you dumbfounded me -by announcing your opinion that the mind of man could devise nothing -superior to the position of the Russian aristocracy of that day, nor -anything nobler or more admirable.' The Liberals saw in Fet a political -reactionary--and so he was; but any one who reads his _Recollections_ -may also see how large a measure of personal worth can be combined with -political indifferentism--a quality many Russians of his generation -were brought up to regard as a virtue. In private life he was a really -worthy man, and Tolstoy once very truly remarked to him: - - There are some people whose talk is far above their actual - morality; but there are also some whose talk is below that - level. You are one who is so afraid of his sermon being above - his practice, that you intentionally talk far below your actual - practice. - -While still a young cavalry officer Fet began to write poetry, for -which he had real talent; and after leaving the army he continued -his literary career as an Art-for-Art's-sake-ist, producing verse -translations of Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Juvenal, Catullus, Tibullus, -Propertius, and Persius, besides original works of his own in prose and -verse, and (after Tolstoy's suggestion, already recorded) translations -from the German of Schopenhauer's _The World as Will and Idea_, and -Goethe's _Faust_. - -In his dislike, or perhaps one should say ignorance, of politics, -commerce, and that great industrial revolution of the Western world -that has been the most conspicuous achievement of the last one hundred -and fifty years, as well as in his love of pure art, chiefly literary, -he had much in common with Tolstoy. They could talk with profound -sympathy of all that related to art, and they were alike in their love -of country life and in their relation to agriculture, as well as in the -fact that the great problems of life centred for them round their own -personality rather than around the community to which they belonged. -Patriotic by instinct, it was no part of their philosophy to be so; -at least they never dreamed of that newer patriotism which seeks to -manage the production and distribution of the national wealth so that -every member of the community may have an opportunity to live in decent -conditions. They had therefore at this period much in common; and -one sees by Tolstoy's letters how greatly they enjoyed each other's -society, though a time was coming when their friendship would wane. - -Tolstoy had a strong dislike of leaving home even for a few days. When -it was absolutely necessary for him to go to Moscow he would grumble -at his hard fate, and Behrs, when he accompanied him, noticed how town -life depressed Tolstoy, making him fidgety and even irritable. When -returning from a journey, or a hunting expedition, he would express his -anxiety by exclaiming, 'If only all's well at home!' After he had been -away from Yásnaya, Tolstoy never failed to give the home party full and -amusing accounts of what he had seen and heard. - -A distinguishing feature of Tolstoy, already remarked upon, but so -strongly marked that it can hardly be insisted on too much, was the -ardent and whole-hearted way in which he threw himself into whatever -occupation he took up. On this point Prince D. D. Obolénsky says: -'I have seen Count L. N. Tolstoy in all phases of his creative -activity.... Whatever his occupation, he did it with conviction, firmly -believing in the value of what he was doing, and always fully absorbed -by it. I remember him as a man of the world, and have met him at balls, -and I remember a remark he once made, "See what poetry there is in -women's ball-dresses, what elegance, how much thought, how much charm -even in the flowers pinned to the dresses!" I remember him as an ardent -sportsman, as a beekeeper, as a gardener; I remember his enthusiasm for -farming, for tree planting, fruit culture, horse breeding, and much -else.' - -A housekeeper who was with him for nine years, said of him: - - The Count himself looked after everything, and demanded extreme - cleanliness in the cowhouse and in the pig-styes and in the - sheep-cot. In particular he delighted in his pigs, of which he had - as many as 300, paired off in separate styes.... There the Count - would not allow the least dirt. Every day I and my assistants had - to wash them all, and wipe the floor and walls of the styes; then - the Count, on passing through the piggery of a morning, would be - very pleased, and would remark aloud: 'What management!... What - good management!' But God have mercy on us if he noticed the - least dirt! That at once made him shout out angrily.... The Count - was very hasty, and a doctor who used to come to Yásnaya said to - him more than once in my presence: 'You must not get so angry, - Count, it is very bad for your health....' 'I can't help it,' he - would reply. 'I want to restrain myself, but can't do it. That, - it seems, is the way I am made!'... His farming gave the Count a - good revenue in those days. Besides the pigs and their litters, he - had 80 cows, 500 good sheep, and very many fowls. We used to make - excellent butter, which we sold in Moscow at 60 copecks [about 19 - pence] a lb. - -His management of property was characteristically personal. He never -took shares in any joint-stock company, but he bought land, bred cattle -and horses of good quality, planted a large apple-orchard, as well -as a quantity of other trees, and in general he acquired property he -could manage himself, or (for he entrusted the management of his Samára -estates to stewards) over which he had full control. He has always -been more alive to the dangers and evils of commercial companies and -large engineering and industrial undertakings, than to the good they -have achieved by irrigating arid lands, uniting distant realms, and -lightening man's toil by making iron bear some of his burdens for him. - -Tolstoy furnishes an example of the well-known fact that men of -artistic temperament are often untidy. Though he acknowledges the -advantages of neatness in general, he often remarked that it is a -quality most frequently found in shallow natures. He himself simply -could not, and therefore did not try to, keep his things in order. When -he undressed he let his clothes or boots drop where he stood; and if he -happened to be moving from place to place, his garments remained strewn -about the room, and sometimes on the floor. Behrs remarks. - - I noticed that to pack his things for a journey cost him great - effort, and when I accompanied him I used very willingly to do - it for him, and thereby pleased him very much. I remember that - once, for some reason, I did not at all wish to pack for him. He - noticed this, and with characteristic delicacy did not ask me to, - but put his things into his portmanteau himself; and I can assert - positively that no one else, were they to try, could have got them - into such fearful disorder as they were in, in that portmanteau. - -It was a peculiarity of Tolstoy's that he not only liked to have his -own sleep out without being disturbed, but that he never could or would -wake any one from sleep, and in cases of absolute necessity would ask -some one else to relieve him of that disagreeable task. - -Behrs recounts that when they sat up late, the man-servant sometimes -fell asleep in his chair and omitted to serve up the cold supper. -Tolstoy would never allow him to be disturbed on these occasions, but -would himself go to the pantry to fetch the supper, and would do this -stealthily, and with the greatest caution, so that it became a kind -of amusing game. He would get quite cross with Behrs if the latter -accidentally let the plates clatter or made any other noise. - -Many years later, alluding in my presence to this peculiarity of his, -Tolstoy remarked, 'While a man is asleep he is at any rate not sinning.' - - -1870 - -On 4th February 1870 Tolstoy wrote to Fet: - - I received your letter, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch, on 1st - February, but even had I received it somewhat sooner I could not - have come. You write, 'I am _alone, alone_!' And when I read it - I thought, What a lucky fellow--_alone_! I have a wife, three - children, and a fourth at the breast, two old aunts, a nurse, - and two housemaids. And they are all ill together: fever, high - temperature, weakness, headaches, and coughs. In that state your - letter found me. They are now beginning to get better, but out of - ten people, I and my old aunt alone turn up at the dinner table. - And since yesterday I myself am ill with my chest and side. There - is much, very much, I want to tell you about. I have been reading a - lot of Shakespear, Goethe, Poúshkin, Gógol, and Moličre, and about - all of them there is much I want to say to you. I do not take in - a single magazine or newspaper this year, and I consider it very - useful not to. - -S. A. Behrs tells us that Tolstoy 'never read newspapers, and -considered them useless, and when they contain false news, even -harmful. In his humorous way he would sometimes parody a newspaper -style when speaking of domestic affairs.' His attitude towards -journalists and critics (except his friend Stráhof) was rather -scornful, and he was indignant when any one classed them even -with third-rate authors. He considered that it is a misuse of the -printing-press to publish so much that is unnecessary, uninteresting, -and worst of all, inartistic. He seldom read criticisms of his own -work. 'His feeling towards periodicals in general had its source in his -intense dislike of the exploitation of works of art. He would smile -contemptuously at hearing it suggested that a real artist produces his -works for the sake of money.' - -Having said this much about his characteristics and peculiarities, -let us note the extent to which his life and mode of thought at this -time approximated to his later teaching. His humane relations towards -the peasants, his condemnation of many of the manifestations of -modern civilisation, his simplicity in household matters and dress, -his exemplary family life, humane educational ideals, deep love of -sincerity and of industry (including physical labour), his ardent -search for truth and for self-improvement, his gradually increasing -accessibility to and regard for others, his undoubted love of family -and his hatred of violence--indicate that the ideals of his later -life were not very far from him, even before the commencement of the -conversion told of in his _Confession_. - -On 17th February Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - I hoped to visit you the night of the 14th, but could not do so. - As I wrote you, we were all ill,--I last. I went out yesterday for - the first time. What stopped me was pain in the eyes, which is - increased by wind and sleeplessness. I now, to my great regret, - have to postpone my visit to you till Lent. I must go to Moscow to - take my aunt to my sister's, and to see an oculist about my eyes. - - It is a pity that one can only get to your place after passing - a sleepless, cigarette-smoky, stuffy, railway-carriage, - conversational night. You want to read me a story of cavalry - life.... And I don't want to read you anything, because I am not - writing anything; but I very much want to talk about Shakespear and - Goethe and the drama in general. This whole winter I am occupied - only with the drama; and it happens to me, as it usually happens - to people who till they are forty have not thought of a certain - subject or formed any conception of it, and then suddenly with - forty-year-old clearness turn their attention to this new untasted - subject--it seems to them that they discern in it much that is new. - All winter I have enjoyed myself lying down, drowsing, playing - bézique, going on snowshoes, skating, and most of all lying in bed - (ill) while characters from a drama or comedy have performed for - me. And they perform very well. It is about that I want to talk to - you. In that, as in everything, you are a classic, and understand - the essence of the matter very deeply. I should like also to read - Sophocles and Euripides. - -There we see Tolstoy, as always, ardently devoting his attention to -some great subject--which happens, this time, to be dramatic art. So -keen is he, that his mind is full of it whatever else he may be doing; -and so vivid is his imagination that the characters of the plays -perform for him whether he is standing up or lying down. How real a -grip he obtained of the subject with very little theatre-going, was -shown seventeen years later, when he wrote one of the most powerful -dramas ever produced, and followed it up by an excellent comedy: both -pieces being so good that they are constantly revived in Russian -theatres, besides having achieved success in other countries. - -At the point we have reached there was no break in the manner of -Tolstoy's life. He continued to live quietly at Yásnaya, and to concern -himself chiefly with literature, and also with the management of his -estates and the welfare of his family. Children continued to be born -in rapid succession, and with the increasing family his means also -increased. But we have come to the middle of that tranquil period -of sixteen years which succeeded his marriage, and here, while--as -one would say of another man--he was indefatigably studying the -drama; or while--as one is inclined to say of him--he was resting and -recuperating before undertaking his next great work, it is convenient -to close this chapter. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER IX - -Birukof. - -Fet. - -Behrs. - -Bitovt. - -_Yasnaya Polyana_, P. A. Sergeyenko: _Niva_, No. 34, 1908. - -_L. N. Tolstoy_; _Monografiya Andreevitcha_: Petersburg, 1905. - -For much information in this chapter as well as elsewhere I am indebted -to Tolstoy himself, to the Countess S. A. Tolstoy, to his sister, and -particularly to his daughter, Mary Lvovna, Princess Obolensky. - -Information concerning the execution of the soldier is given in _Pravo_ -for 1903. - -Prince D. D. Obolensky's _Vospominaniya_ appeared in _Roussky Arhiv_, -1896. - -See also, _Graf L. N. Tolstoy_, _Vospominaniya S. P. Arbouzova_: -Moscow, 1908. - -Arbouzof was in Tolstoy's service twenty-two years. He gives his master -an excellent character; and though very inaccurate, his naive chatter -is readable, and throws light on Tolstoy's character. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - NEARING THE CRISIS - -Fet's poem. Franco-Prussian war. Studies Greek. Effect on health. -Railways. Koumýs cure in Samára. Mouhamet-Dzhan. An expedition. -'Milk-loving Scythians.' Buys estate. Molokáns. Tourgénef's interest. -_ABC_ Book. House enlarged. On future life. Re-starts school. -Preparation of _ABC_ Book. Astronomy. _A Prisoner in the Caucasus._ -_God Sees the Truth._ Ceremonial rites. Stráhof and the _ABC_ Book. -Samára. Bull kills keeper. Teachers' Congress at Yásnaya. A letter in -verse. Peter the Great. A suicide. _Anna Karénina._ Mouhamed Shah. -Samára famine. Kramskóy's portrait. Death of son, Peter. Addresses -Moscow Society of Literacy. A practical demonstration. Test schools. -_The Fatherland Journal: On the Education of the People._ Mihaylóvsky. -'A University in bark shoes.' Toúla Zémstvo Education Committee. -Tourgénef translates Tolstoy. Birth of a son. Death of Aunt Tatiána. -_ABC_ Book approved. Wife's health. _Anna Karénina._ Death of a son. -Tourgénef on Tolstoy's writings. Samára. Primitive agriculture. Fęte -and horse races. Bashkír life. Education of his children. Exercises -and playfulness. Croquet. 'Numidian cavalry.' Birth and death of a -daughter. Aunt P. I. Úshkof dies. Letters to Fet. Nirvana and Sansara. -_Anna Karénina._ 'Summer condition.' Horse-breeding. Loss of Gouneba. -Music. P. I. Tschaikóvsky. At the Conservatoire. Folk-songs. Beethoven. -Tolstoy on art. Approach of war. Rupture with Katkóf. The Evangelicals. -An epitaph. Professor Boutleróf. The Deity. Óptin Monastery. A -folk-story teller. Turkish prisoners. Son, Andrew, born. Ill-health. -_The Decembrists._ 'Martha is troubled.' Reconciliation with Tourgénef. -Samára. Tourgénef at Yásnaya. Their relations still not cordial. -Pilgrims. N. Tchaykóvsky. Mihaylóvsky's forecast. V. I. Alexéyef. - - -1870 - -As he grew older Tolstoy's love of outdoor exercise tended more towards -activity serving a useful productive purpose, and one finds a hint of -this in the following letter to Fet, dated 11th May 1870: - - I received your letter, dear friend, when returning perspiring home - from work, with axe and spade, and when therefore I was a thousand - miles from things artistic in general, and from our business in - particular. On opening the letter I first read the poem and felt a - sensation in my nose. On coming home to my wife I tried to read it - to her, but could not do so for tears of emotion. The poem is one - of those rare ones in which not a word could be added or subtracted - or altered: it is a live thing, and admirable.... - - I have just served for a week as juryman, and found it very - interesting and instructive. - -The next letter refers to the fact that Tolstoy did his best literary -work in winter, when he often spent almost the whole day, and sometimes -part of the night, at it; that was the time when his 'sap flowed': - - _2 Oct. 1870._ - - It is long since we met, and in my winter condition, which I am now - entering, I am specially glad to see you. I have been shooting; but - the sap is beginning to flow, and I am collecting it as it drips. - Whether it be good or bad sap, it is pleasant to let it flow in - these long wonderful autumn evenings.... A grief has befallen me; - the mare is ill. The veterinary says her wind has been broken, but - I cannot have broken it. - -The Franco-Prussian war, which commenced at this time, interested -Tolstoy keenly. He had come into contact with the French, in the -Crimea, before the Napoleonic autocracy had long held sway; and -he had visited France in 1857 and 1860, before the effect of that -putrescent influence had become fully apparent. Neither the idea of -German national unity, nor Bismarck's and Moltke's ideal of efficient -organisation and discipline, were things that much appealed to Tolstoy. -So it happened that not only were all his sympathies on the side of -the French, but he also felt assured of their triumph. His friend -Prince Ouroúsof used to write letters to Katkóf's _Moscow Gazette_ -demonstrating by analogies with games of chess, that the French were -continually drawing the German armies into more and more desperate -positions in which they must soon be quite destroyed. When, on the -contrary, the French were utterly defeated, it came to him as a -complete surprise; which all tends to illustrate the fact that men of -great intellectual power, living isolated on their country estates, may -at times go very considerably wrong in their estimate of the trend of -some of the forces that influence the world. - -On 12 February 1871 a daughter was born, who was christened Mary. In -later life she, of all his children, was the one most deeply influenced -by her father's teaching. The Countess, who, as already mentioned, -made a point of nursing her own children, owing to the neglect of an -attendant, became unable to do so in this instance before the child was -many weeks old, and a wet-nurse was engaged; but as soon as the mother -saw her child at a stranger's breast she burst into a flood of jealous -tears, dismissed the nurse on the spot, and ordered the child to be fed -with a bottle. Tolstoy, when he heard what had happened, declared that -his wife had only shown the jealous affection natural to a true mother. - - -1870-71 - -During that winter Tolstoy devoted himself strenuously to the study -of Greek. On hearing of this, Fet felt so sure that Tolstoy would not -succeed, that he announced his readiness to devote his own skin for -parchment for Tolstoy's diploma of proficiency when the latter should -have qualified himself to receive it. Accordingly, in December, Tolstoy -wrote him as follows: - - I received your letter a week ago, but have not answered because - from morning to night I am learning Greek. I am writing nothing, - only learning; and to judge by information reaching me through - Borísof, your skin (to be used as parchment for my diploma in - Greek) is in some danger. Improbable and astounding as it may seem, - I have read Xenophon, and can now read him at sight. For Homer, - a dictionary and some effort is still necessary. I eagerly await - a chance of showing this new trick to some one. But how glad I - am that God sent this folly upon me! In the first place I enjoy - it; and secondly, I have become convinced that of all that human - language has produced truly beautiful and simply beautiful, I knew - nothing (like all the others who know but do not understand); and - thirdly, because I have ceased to write, and never more will write, - wordy rubbish. I am guilty of having done so; but by God I won't - do it any more! Explain to me, for Heaven's sake, why no one knows - Esop's fables, or even delightful Xenophon, not to mention Plato - and Homer, whom I still have before me? In so far as I can as yet - judge, our translations, made on German models, only spoil Homer. - To use a banal but involuntary comparison: they are like boiled - and distilled water, while he is like water fresh from the spring, - striking the teeth with its sun-lit sparkle: even its specks only - making it seem still clearer and fresher.... You may triumph: - without a knowledge of Greek, there is no education. But what kind - of knowledge? How is it to be got? What is the use of it? To this I - have replies clear as daylight. - - -1871 - -S. A. Behrs tells us, 'I know for a fact that he learnt the language -and read Herodotus in three months.' While in Moscow that winter, he -visited Leóntief, then Professor of Greek at the Katkóf Lyceum, to -talk about Greek literature. Leóntief did not wish to believe in the -possibility of his having learnt Greek so rapidly, and proposed that -they should read something at sight. It happened that they differed as -to the meaning of three passages; but after a little discussion the -Professor admitted that the Count's interpretations were right. - -Tolstoy felt the charm of the literary art of the ancient world, and -so keen was his power of entering into the minds of those of whom he -read, and so different to his own was the Greek outlook upon life, that -the contradiction produced in him a feeling of melancholy and apathy -profound enough to affect his health. - -What clash of ideals it was that produced this result we may guess -when we consider how from his earliest years he had been attracted by -the Christian ideal of meekness, humility, and self-sacrifice, and how -little this accords with the outlook on life of the ancient Greeks. In -a book written nearly forty years later, Tolstoy tells us that 'If, as -was the case among the Greeks, religion places the meaning of life in -earthly happiness, in beauty and in strength, then art successfully -transmitting the joy and energy of life, would be considered good -art' [good, that is, in its subject-matter of feeling conveyed] but -art transmitting the opposite feelings would be bad art.[51] Again in -the same work he says that the esthetic theory he is combating, seeks -to make it appear 'that the very best that can be done by the art of -nations after 1900 years of Christian teaching, is to choose as the -ideal of life the ideal held by a small, semi-savage, slave-holding -people who lived 2000 years ago, imitated the nude human body extremely -well, and erected buildings pleasant to look at.'[52] - - [51] _What is Art?_ p. 54: Constable, London, and Funk and - Wagnalls Co., New York. - - [52] _Ibid._, p. 65. - -To wean him from his absorption in Greek literature, his wife at first -urged him to take up some fresh literary work; and finally, becoming -seriously alarmed for his health, induced him to go eastward for a -koumýs cure. He wrote to Fet at this time: - - _10 June 1871._ - - DEAR FRIEND,--I have long not written to you, nor been to see you, - because I was, and still am, ill. I don't myself know what is the - matter with me, but it seems like something bad or good, according - to the name we give to our exit. Loss of strength, and a feeling - that one needs nothing and wants nothing but quiet, which one has - not got. My wife is sending me to Samára or Sarátof for two months - for a koumýs cure. I leave for Moscow to-day, and shall there learn - where I am to go to. - -In Moscow it was decided that he should go to the part of Samára he had -visited before. - -Railways have always been an affliction to Tolstoy. Civilisation -has forced them on him without his wish, and, as he argued in his -educational articles, to the detriment of the peasant population. -Personally, he complained of disagreeable sensations he experienced -when travelling by rail, and compared these discomforts with the -pleasure of riding on horseback. He objected both to the officious -politeness of the conductors and to the way in which the passengers -suspiciously shun one another. (This latter complaint is not one a -Westerner would bring against Russians, for they appear to us the most -friendly and sociable of fellow-travellers.) He used to insist on his -wife always travelling first class. He himself went either first or -third, but seldom second. To travel third is a more serious matter in -Russia than in England; and he used purposely to choose a car in which -there were peasants, and talked to all whom he met. - -On this outward journey he went third class, by rail to Nízhni -Nóvgorod and by steamer down the Vólga to the town of Samára. On the -boat he took the opportunity to study the manners and customs of his -fellow-passengers, natives of the Vólga district, and displayed his -remarkable gift of making friends with people of all kinds. Before he -had been two days on the boat he was on the friendliest terms with -everybody, including the sailors, among whom he slept each night in the -fore part of the vessel. Even when he met reserved or surly characters, -it was not long before he drew them out of their shells, and set them -chatting at their ease. One secret of this success was the unaffected -interest he took in learning about other people's lives and affairs. - -From Samára Tolstoy went eastward for eighty miles on horseback, -following the banks of the river Karalýk till he reached the village -of that name. He had lived there in 1862, and was welcomed as an -old acquaintance and friend by the Bashkírs, who always spoke of -him as 'The Count.' The reader will remember that at the University -Tolstoy had studied oriental languages. His knowledge of Tartar no -doubt increased his popularity with the Bashkírs. He had with him a -man-servant, and his brother-in-law, Stepán Andréyevitch Behrs, then a -lad of about sixteen, who subsequently in his _Recollections_ gave many -particulars about this outing. They lived, not in the 'winter village' -of Karalýk, but about one-and-a-half miles away, in a _kotchévka_ on -the open steppe. A _kotchévka_ is a conical tent, made of a collapsible -wooden frame covered with large sheets of felt. It has a small painted -door, and is usually carpeted with soft feather grass. The one in -which Tolstoy's party lived, was a very large one which he hired from -the Mullah (priest). It had formerly been used as a mosque, but had -the practical disadvantage of not being rain-proof. There were four -_kotchévki_ in the neighbourhood, one of which was occupied by the -Mullah. - -On first arriving at Karalýk, Tolstoy for some days felt very depressed -and unwell. He complained that he lacked capacity to feel either mental -or physical pleasure, and looked at everything 'as though he were a -corpse': a characteristic usually most foreign to him, and which in -other people always evoked his dislike. It was, however, not long -before he recovered his spirits and energy. - -There were other visitors at Karalýk, who had also come to benefit -by a koumýs cure. They neither associated with the Bashkír nomads, -nor adopted their customs; but Tolstoy was extremely fond of the -Bashkírs, associated much with them, and strictly followed their diet: -avoiding all vegetable foods and restricting himself to meat and animal -products. Dinner every day consisted chiefly of mutton eaten with the -fingers out of wooden bowls. - -Some of the Russian visitors lived in one of the _kotchévki_, but -most of them lodged in the 'winter village.' Tolstoy soon made friends -with them all, and thanks to his genial influence the whole place grew -gay and lively. A professor of Greek from a Seminary for the education -of priests might be seen trying a skipping-rope match with him; a -procureur's assistant discussed legal and other questions, and there -was a young Samára farmer who became his devoted follower. - -Among those who specially interested Tolstoy was Mouhamet-Dzhan, the -Bashkír Elder, whom the Russian peasants called Michael Ivánovitch. -This man was very nimble and active, full of humour, fond of a joke, -and a very strong player at draughts. - -Accompanied by Behrs and two of their new acquaintances, and taking -a supply of guns and presents, Tolstoy went for a four days' drive -through the neighbouring villages. The party had splendid duck-shooting -by the lakes they passed; and they were entertained and treated to -koumýs by the Bashkírs at the _kotchévkas_ in which they rested. As -opportunity presented itself, they made suitable acknowledgment for -their entertainment by giving presents to their hosts. One serious -drawback to the hospitality they enjoyed was the fact that their -hosts insisted on feeding them with mutton and fat with their own -hands, without the intermediacy of fork or spoon, and it was out of -the question to insult them by refusing such well-meant though quite -undesired attentions. - -On one occasion Tolstoy happened to admire a horse that had separated -from its herd, and remarked to Behrs, 'See what a beautiful specimen -of milking mare that is.' When, an hour later, they were taking leave, -their host tied this animal to their conveyance, thus presenting it to -his visitor. Of course, on the return journey, Tolstoy had to make an -equivalent present in return. - -Another incident of this stay in the Government of Samára, was a visit -to the Petróvsky Fair, which is held once a year at Bouzouloúk, a -small town some fifty miles from Karalýk. Here Russians, Bashkírs, -Oural Cossacks, and Kirghiz mingled with one another; and Tolstoy was -soon on a friendly footing with them all. He would chat and laugh with -them even when they were drunk; but when one in that condition took -it into his head to embrace the Count, Tolstoy's look was so stern -and impressive that the fellow drew back his hands and let them fall, -saying, 'No, never mind, it's all right!' - -The following letter of 18th July 1871, to Fet, relates to Tolstoy's -experience of the nomadic Bashkírs: - - Thank you for your letter, dear friend! It seems that my wife - gave a false alarm when she packed me off for a koumýs cure and - persuaded me that I was ill. At any rate now, after four weeks, I - seem to have quite recovered. And as is proper when one is taking - a koumýs cure, I am drunk and sweat from morn to night, and find - pleasure in it. It is very good here, and were it not for family - home-sickness, I should be quite happy. Were I to begin describing, - I should fill a hundred pages with this country and my own - occupations. I am reading Herodotus, who describes in detail and - with great accuracy these same galactophagous [gluttonous-for-milk] - Scythians among whom I am living. - - I began this letter yesterday, and wrote that I was well. To-day my - side aches again. I do not myself know in how far I am ill, but it - is bad that I am obliged to think--and cannot help thinking--about - my side and my chest. This is the third day that the heat has been - terrible. In the _kibítka_ [tent] it is as hot as on the shelf of a - Russian bath, but I like it. The country here is beautiful--in its - age just emerging from virginity, in its richness, its health, and - especially in its simplicity and its unperverted population. Here - as everywhere I am looking round for an estate to buy. This affords - me an occupation, and is the best excuse for getting to know the - real condition of the district. - -After a six weeks' stay Tolstoy returned to Yásnaya, travelling first -class on the return journey. - -His search for an estate had been successful, and after persuading his -wife that the investment was a sound one, he purchased two thousand -acres on his return to Moscow. - -The change of scene, or some other influence, weakened Tolstoy's -absorption in Greek literature; and a huge dictionary he had taken with -him, was used by his brother-in-law to press a collection of local -wildflowers. - -During his wanderings on the steppe, Tolstoy met many Molokáns, members -of a kind of Bible-Christian peasant sect. They base their faith on the -Bible, reject the Greek Church with its traditions, priesthood, dogmas, -ritual, sacraments, and icons. The name Molokán, or Milk-Drinker, -probably arose from the fact that, not observing the Russian fasts, -these people do not scruple to drink milk in Lent. They are said to be -distinguished by an honesty and industry not found among their Orthodox -neighbours; and they abstain from all intoxicants. - -It interested Tolstoy to mix with these people, and he liked to discuss -their beliefs, especially with a venerable leader of theirs, named -Aggéy. It so happened that in the neighbouring village of Pátrovka -there was a very worthy young Russian priest, who was eager to convert -the Molokáns, and occasionally arranged debates with them on religious -subjects. Tolstoy sometimes attended these debates: his object being -not so much to convert the Molokáns, as to understand the points on -which they differed from the Russo-Greek Church. He also took an -interest in the Mohammedan faith of his Bashkír friends, and on his -return to Yásnaya read through a French translation of the Koran. - -A few years later Tolstoy associated much with the representatives of -various sects and faiths, being then profoundly interested in their -beliefs; but at this time, his interest in such matters was only -beginning to make itself felt. - -A letter of Tourgénef's written at this period, indicates how little he -allowed his quarrel with Tolstoy the man, to warp his appreciation of -Tolstoy the artist. Writing to Fet on 2nd July 1871, he says: - - Your letter again grieves me--I refer to what you write about - L. Tolstoy. I have great fears on his account, for two of his - brothers died of consumption, and I am very glad he is taking a - koumýs cure, in the reality and efficacy of which I have faith. L. - Tolstoy is the only hope of our orphaned literature; he cannot and - must not vanish from the face of the earth as prematurely as his - predecessors: Poúshkin, Lérmontof and Gógol. - -Again in November, writing from Paris, he says: - - I am very glad that Tolstoy's health is now satisfactory and that - he is at work. Whatever he does will be good, if only he does not - himself mutilate his own handiwork. Philosophy, which he hates, has - revenged herself on him in a strange way: she has infected him, - and the enemy of rationalising has plunged head over ears into - rationalisation! But perhaps all _that_ has fallen away from him by - now, and left only the pure and powerful artist. - -On returning home from Samára improved in health, Tolstoy turned his -thoughts once more to matters educational: especially to the crying -want of good primers for those beginning to read. We have seen how -strongly, in 1862, he had felt the need of well-written books simple -enough for beginners and peasant readers, and how he resented the -monopolisation of knowledge by the cultured classes entrenched behind -barriers of pedantry. We have seen, too, how under the influence of -Homer he swore he would no more write 'wordy rubbish'; and the time had -now come for this feeling to bear fruit. The task to which he devoted -his powers at their zenith, was the production of an _ABC_ Book for -beginners, which was to be as simple, sincere and perfect in form and -in subject-matter as possible. - -We know from the writings of the American Consul, Mr. Eugene Schuyler, -who visited Tolstoy in 1868, and at his request obtained for him a -collection of American school primers, that Tolstoy was even then -meditating a work of the kind to which he now devoted himself ardently -for a whole year. By September he was hard at work, the Countess as -usual acting as his amanuensis. - -Of her we hear that in an impulsive, kind-hearted way, she often -rendered assistance to the poor, not merely among the Yásnaya Polyána -peasants, but to others from a distance as well; and that the -neighbouring peasants thought well of her. - -The increase in the Tolstoy family was met this year by a considerable -enlargement of their domicile. By way of a house-warming to celebrate -the completion of the building, a masquerade was arranged at Christmas, -at which Tolstoy evoked great enthusiasm by appearing as a goat. - -About this time, at the age of sixteen, Behrs and a school friend of -his became sorely troubled as to the state of their souls, and thought -of entering a monastery. This is what he tells us of Tolstoy's relation -to the matter: - - His attitude towards my inclination was a most cautious one. I - often went to him with my doubts and questions, but he always - managed to avoid expressing his opinion, knowing how very great - an influence it would have with me. He left it to me to work out - my own convictions. Once, however, he spoke out with sufficient - plainness. We were riding past the village church where his parents - lie buried. Two horses were grazing in the churchyard. We had been - talking over the only subject that then interested me. - - 'How can a man live in peace,' I asked, 'so long as he has not - solved the question of a future life?' - - 'You see those two horses grazing there,' he answered; 'are they - not laying up for a future life?' - - 'But I am speaking of our spiritual, not our earthly life.' - - 'Indeed? Well, about that, I neither know nor can know anything.' - - -1872 - -Immediately after New Year he re-started his school; and the children -(who often numbered thirty to thirty-five) met, not as formerly in -another building, but in the hall of the Tolstoys' enlarged house. In -the mornings the Countess taught her own children, and in the afternoon -she, her husband, and even seven-year-old Tánya and eight-year-old -Sergius, taught the peasant children, who came only then, but yet made -satisfactory progress, being stimulated by the personal interest the -Tolstoys took in them, by the pedagogic genius of the Count, and by a -perception that education is a rare and valuable luxury, which seldom -comes within the reach of Russian peasants. - -In the _ABC_ Book Tolstoy gives several autobiographical stories of how -he learned to ride, and of his dogs Milton and Boúlka. Easy as these -are, they are admirably written, and combine brevity and simplicity -with sincerity; though their sincerity lies not in telling the facts -just as they occurred, but in the truth of the feeling conveyed to the -reader. Besides these and other stories, popular historical sketches, -and a number of translations and adaptations from _Esop's Fables_ and -from Indian, Hebrew and Arabic sources, the work contains some popular -ballads or folk-stories in verse. To get these poems as perfect as -possible, he studied and collated all the versions of them he could -collect. - -The section on Arithmetic gave him an immense amount of work, for he -would not content himself with the usual explanations of the various -operations, but devised explanations of his own. - -The book contains some elementary natural science, and for the -preparation of this, Tolstoy, besides examining all sorts of -text-books, consulted specialists on the various subjects, and himself -carefully performed most of the experiments he described. - -To select the readings in the Church-Slavonic language, he perused the -monkish chronicles and the Lives of the Saints. - -Intending to include some readings on astronomy, he took up that study -himself, and became so interested in it that he sometimes sat up all -night examining the stars. - -When the news spread that Tolstoy was writing stories for his _ABC_ -Book, the magazine editors besieged him with demands, and the first -bits of the book to see the light were _A Prisoner in the Caucasus_, -which appeared in one of the monthlies in February, and _God Sees the -Truth_, which came out in another monthly in March. - -Owing to some mismanagement, Tolstoy received nothing for the -periodical rights of either of these stories, which in _What is Art?_ -he names as the best of all his works. They (as well as _The Bear -Hunt_, also from the _ABC_ Book) are given in English in _Twenty-three -Tales_, previously referred to. In rendering them, I did my best to -retain the brief simplicity of the originals; but where Russian customs -were alluded to, some of that simplicity was inevitably lost. - -With what pleasure Tolstoy looks back to this part of his life's work, -was indicated by a remark he made to me in 1902. Speaking of the -popularity of _A Prisoner in the Caucasus_ for public readings to the -peasants, he added with evident satisfaction, that when _A Prisoner in -the Caucasus_ is now mentioned, it is always taken for granted that it -is his little story, and not Poúshkin's famous poem of the same name, -that is referred to. - -Since their first appearance, these two stories have sold by hundreds -of thousands in separate editions at three to ten copecks (about a -penny or twopence) each, besides appearing in the _Readers_ and among -Tolstoy's collected works. - -In the following letter to Fet we get a vivid glimpse of the thoughts -on life's deepest problems, which were before long to fill Tolstoy's -mind completely. - - _30 Jan. 1872._ - - It is some days since I received your kind but sad letter, and not - till to-day do I settle down to answer it. - - It is a sad letter, for you write that Tútchef is dying, and that - there is a rumour that Tourgénef is dead; and about yourself you - say the machine is wearing out and you want quietly to think of - Nirvana. Please let me know quickly whether this is a false alarm. - I hope it is, and that, in the absence of Márya Petróvna, you have - taken slight symptoms for a return of your terrible illness. - - In Nirvana there is nothing to laugh at; still less is there - cause for anger. We all (I, at least) feel that it is much more - interesting than life; but I agree that however much I may - think about it, I can think of nothing else than that Nirvana - is nothingness. I only stand up for one thing: religious - reverence--awe of that Nirvana. - - There is, at any rate, nothing more important than it. - - What do I mean by religious reverence? I mean this: I lately - went to see my brother, and a child of his had died and was - being buried. The priests were there, and a small pink coffin, - and everything as it should be. My brother and I involuntarily - confessed to one another that we felt something like repulsion - towards ceremonial rites. But afterwards I thought, 'Well, but what - should my brother do to remove the putrefying body of the child - from the house? How is one to finish the matter decently?' There is - no better way (at least, I could devise none) than to do it with - a requiem and incense. How is it to be when we grow weak and die? - Is nature to take her course, are we to ... and nothing else? That - would not be well. One wishes fully to express the gravity and - importance, the solemnity and religious awe of that occurrence, the - most important in every man's life. And I also can devise nothing - more seemly for people of all ages and all degrees of development, - than a religious observance. For me at least those Slavonic words - evoke quite the same metaphysical ecstasy as one experiences when - one thinks of Nirvana. Religion is wonderful, in that she has for - so many ages rendered to so many millions of people these same - services--the greatest anything human can render in this matter. - With such a task, how can she be logical? Yes--there is something - in her. Only to you do I allow myself to write such letters; but - I wished to write, and I feel sad, especially after your letter. - Please write soon about your health.--Your - - LEO TOLSTOY. - - I am terribly dispirited. The work I have begun is fearfully hard, - there is no end to the preparatory study necessary. The plan of the - work is ever increasing, and my strength, I feel, grows less and - less. One day I am well, and three days I am ill. - -The work here referred to as 'fearfully hard' was a study of the reign -of Peter the Great, in preparation for a novel treating of that period. - -On 20th February he again wrote to Fet: - - I may not correspond with my friends for years at a time, but when - my friend is in trouble, it is terribly shameful and painful not - to know of it.... Now, being in Moscow, I wished to call on the - Bótkins to hear about you, but I fell ill myself, took to my bed, - and it was all I could do to get home. Now I am better. At home all - is well; but you will not recognise our house: we have been using - the new extension all winter. Another novelty is that I have again - started a school. My wife and children and I all teach and are all - contented. I have finished my _ABC_ Book and am printing it.... - -The next letter shows that his hope that he had finished the _ABC_ Book -was premature: - - _16 March 1872._ - - How I wish to see you; but I cannot come, I am still ill.... My - _ABC_ Book gives me no peace for any other occupation. The printing - advances on the feet of a tortoise, and the deuce knows when it - will be finished, and I am still adding and omitting and altering. - What will come of it I know not; but I have put my whole soul into - it. - -In May 1872 the Countess gave birth to another boy, who was christened -Peter. - -The Moscow firm who were printing the book for Tolstoy were not able to -give him satisfaction. Not only was the printing a matter of difficulty -owing to the variety of type required for a school-book of this kind, -but Tolstoy, in accord with his invariable practice, revised the work -time after time while it was going through the press. At last, in May, -he wrote to his trusty friend and admirer, N. Stráhof, saying that -after four months' labour the printing was 'not only not finished, but -had not even begun,' and begging Stráhof to have the book printed in -Petersburg, and to take on himself for ample payment the whole task of -revising the proofs. After some correspondence matters were arranged, -though Stráhof declined to accept any payment for the help he rendered. - -Tolstoy explained to his friend that he wanted to make a profit on the -book if possible. As a rule, all Tolstoy's later teaching seems to grow -out of his experience of life; but it would be hard for any one to work -more conscientiously than Tolstoy laboured over this book, and yet in -later life he speaks as though any admixture of mercenary motives is -sure to be fatal to good literary work. We here seem, therefore, to -come upon an exception to that rule. - -Stráhof's assistance enabled Tolstoy (though he continued to give -most careful instructions with regard to the treatment of the various -sections of the book) to get a much needed change; and after having -as usual worked during the winter and spring up to the very limit of -his strength, he went for a short visit to his Samára estate, where -he arranged about building, and about breaking up the virgin soil. A -peasant from Yásnaya village was appointed steward of the new estate, -and was instructed to see to the building of the house there. Being -far away from home Tolstoy was anxious about his _ABC_ Book; so he -cut short his stay, and returned to Yásnaya before the end of July. -There he learned that a fine young bull of his had gored its keeper -to death. The unpleasantness of such an occurrence and of the legal -investigation consequent on the man's death, was greatly increased by -the fact that the Investigating Magistrate, an incompetent and arrogant -young official, wrongly held Tolstoy responsible for 'careless holding -of cattle,' and, besides commencing criminal proceedings against -him, obliged him to give a written undertaking not to leave Yásnaya. -Prince D. D. Obolénsky tells how Tolstoy arrived one day at a meet at -the Prince's estate of Schahovskóy (some thirty miles from Yásnaya) -late and much upset, and told of an examination he had that morning -undergone at the hands of the Investigating Magistrate, whose duties -included those of Coroner. 'Being an excitable man,' says Obolénsky, -'Tolstoy was extremely indignant at the Magistrate's conduct, and -told how the latter had kept a Yásno-Polyána peasant in prison for -a year-and-a-half on suspicion of having stolen a cow, which then -turned out to have been stolen by some one else. "He will confine -me for a year," added Tolstoy. "It is absurd, and shows how utterly -arbitrary these gentlemen are. I shall sell all I have in Russia and -go to England, where every man's person is respected. Here every -police-officer, if one does not grovel at his feet, can play one the -dirtiest tricks!"' - -P. F. Samárin, who had also come to the hunt, opposed Tolstoy with -animation, arguing that the death or even the mutilation of a man, -was so serious a matter that it could not be left without judicial -investigation. After long argument Samárin more or less convinced -Tolstoy, and the latter before retiring to rest remarked to Obolénsky, -'What a wonderful power of calming people Samárin has!' - -The judicial proceedings dragged on for more than a month, and it -was not till late in September that Tolstoy was again free to take a -journey to Moscow. The proceedings, first against him and then against -his steward, were abandoned; but not before the newspapers had taken -the matter up and made a fuss about it. - -At last, in November, the _ABC_ Book was published. It sold slowly, -and was attacked by some of the papers. Tolstoy however was not -discouraged, but held to his belief that (as he expressed it to -Stráhof) he had 'erected a monument'--a conviction amply justified by -the ultimate success of the work. He had indeed produced a reading-book -far superior to anything that had previously existed in Russia, and -that is probably unmatched in any language. With certain modifications -to be mentioned later on, it continues to circulate throughout Russia -to the present day. - -In connection with his other efforts to popularise his system of -instruction, Tolstoy, in October 1872, invited a dozen teachers from -neighbouring schools to visit him for a week at Yásnaya. They were -accommodated in his second house (called, as is customary in Russian -when speaking of a subsidiary residence, 'the wing'); and a number -of illiterate boys were collected from villages within reach, to be -taught on Tolstoy's lines. He also formed a project of establishing a -'University in bark shoes' [the country peasants wear bark shoes] or in -other words, a training college in which peasants could become teachers -without ceasing to be peasants. This plan occupied his attention, off -and on, for some years; but (owing to causes which will be related -later) never came to fruition. - -In December Tourgénef writes from Paris, to Fet: - - I got a copy of L. Tolstoy's ABC, but except the beautiful story, - _A Prisoner in the Caucasus_, I did not find anything interesting - in it. And the price is absurdly dear for a work of that kind. - -The price of the first edition of 3000 copies of the _ABC_ was Rs. 2 -(about 5s. 6d.). Tourgénef probably had no idea of the immense labour, -or of the typographical difficulties, involved in its production. The -subsequent editions were much cheaper. - -About this time Fet sent Tolstoy a letter in rhyme, to which the latter -replied as follows: - - _12 November 1872._ - - The causeless shame felt by the onion - Before the sweetly-scented rose, - My dearest Fet, I should be feeling, - Were I to answer you in prose. - - And yet in maiden verse replying, - By sad misgivings I'm beset: - The when and where, yourself please settle-- - But come and visit us, dear Fet. - - Tho' drought may parch the rye and barley. - Yet still I shall not feel upset - If I but spend a day enjoying - Your conversation, dearest Fet! - - Too apt we often are to worry; - O'er future ills let us not fret: - Sufficient for the day, its evil-- - It's best to think so, dearest Fet! - - Joking apart, write quickly and let me know when to send horses to - the station to meet you. I want to see you terribly. - -Having at last got his _ABC_ off his hands, Tolstoy resumed his -preliminary labours for a large novel, which was to deal with the -period of Peter the Great. On 19th November 1872 the Countess wrote to -her brother: - - Our life just now is very, very serious. All day we are occupied. - Leo sits surrounded by a pile of portraits, pictures and books, - engrossed in reading, marking passages and taking notes. In the - evening, when the children have gone to bed, he tells me his plans, - and what he means to write. At times he is quite discouraged, falls - into despair, and thinks nothing will ever come of it. At other - times he is on the point of setting ardently to work; but as yet I - cannot say he has actually written anything, he is still preparing. - -A month later she wrote: - - As usual we are all of us very busy. The winter is the working time - for us proprietors, just as much as summer is for the peasants. Leo - is still reading historical books of the time of Peter the Great, - and is much interested in them. He notes down the characters of - various people, their traits, as well as the way of life of the - boyars and the peasants, and Peter's activity. He does not yet know - what will come of it all, but it seems to me we shall have another - prose poem like _War and Peace_; but of the time of Peter the Great. - - -1873 - -A few months later he definitely abandoned the project. His opinion of -Peter the Great ran directly counter to the popular one, and he felt -out of sympathy with the whole epoch. He declared there was nothing -great about the personality or activity of Peter, whose qualities were -all bad. His so-called reforms, far from aiming at the welfare of -the people, aimed simply at his own personal advantage. He founded -Petersburg because the boyars, who were influential and consequently -dangerous to him, disapproved of the changes he made, and because he -wished to be free to follow an immoral mode of life. The changes and -reforms he introduced were borrowed from Saxony, where the laws were -most cruel, and the morals most dissolute--all of which particularly -pleased him. This, Tolstoy holds, explains Peter's friendship with the -Elector of Saxony, who was among the most immoral of rulers. He also -considers that Peter's intimacy with the pieman Ménshikof and with the -Swiss deserter Lefort, is explained by the contempt in which Peter -was held by all the boyars, among whom he could not find men willing -to share his dissolute life. Most of all, Tolstoy was revolted by the -murder of Peter's son Alexis, in which crime Tolstoy's own ancestor had -played a very prominent part. - -Almost simultaneously with the abandonment of the project to which he -had devoted so much time and attention, Tolstoy, without any special -preparation, began to write his second great novel, _Anna Karénina_. - -The year before, a lady named Anna who lived with Bíbikof, a -neighbouring squire mentioned on a previous page, had committed suicide -by throwing herself under a train, out of jealousy of Bíbikof's -attentions to their governess. Tolstoy knew all the details of the -affair, and had been present at the post-mortem. This supplied him -with a theme; but it was not till March 1873, and then as it were by -accident, that he actually began to write the book. One day a volume of -Poúshkin happened to be lying open at the commencement of _A Fragment_, -which begins with the words, 'The guests had arrived at the country -house.' Tolstoy, noticing this, remarked to those present that these -words, plunging at once into the midst of things, are a model of how -a story should begin. Some one then laughingly suggested that he -should begin a novel in that way; and Tolstoy at once started on _Anna -Karénina_, the second sentence, and first narrative sentence, of which -is, 'All was in confusion in the Oblónskys' house.' - -In May Tolstoy and his whole family went for a three months' visit to -Samára, where he had recently purchased some more land. - -This summer he hired a Bashkír named Mouhamed Shah, who owned and -brought with him a herd of milking mares. This Mouhamed Shah, or -Románovitch as he was called in Russian, was polite, punctual, and -dignified. He had a workman to drive the herd, and a wife (who retired -behind a curtain in his _kotchévka_ when visitors came to see him) to -wait upon him. In subsequent years this worthy man repeatedly resumed -his engagement with the Tolstoys. - -This was the first year the whole estate had been ploughed up and sown. -It was fortunate for the district that some one who had the ear of the -public, happened to be there; for the crops in the whole neighbourhood -failed utterly, and a famine ensued. So out-of-the-world were the -people and so cut off from civilisation, that they might have suffered -and died without the rest of Russia hearing anything about it, had not -Tolstoy been at hand to make their plight known in good time by an -appeal for help, which the Countess prompted him to draw up, and which -appeared on 17th August, in Katkóf's paper, the _Moscow Gazette_. - -In this article on the Samára Famine, Tolstoy describes how the -complete failure of the harvest, following as it did on two previous -poor harvests, had brought nearly nine-tenths of the population to -destitution and hunger. - -To ascertain the real state of things Tolstoy took an inventory at -every tenth house in the village of Gavrílovka--the one nearest his -estate; and of the twenty-three families so examined, all but one -were found to be in debt, and none of them knew how they were to get -through the winter. Most of the men had left home to look for work, but -the harvest being bad everywhere, and so many people being in search -of work, the price of labour had fallen to one-eighth of what it had -previously been. - -Tolstoy visited several villages and found a similar state of things -everywhere. Together with his article, he sent Rs. 100 (then equal to -about Ł14) as a first subscription to a Famine Fund. This was only a -small part of what he spent in relief of the impoverished peasants, for -when Prougávin (well known for his valuable descriptions of Russian -sects) visited the district in 1881, many of the inhabitants spoke to -him of Tolstoy's personal kindness to the afflicted, and of his gifts -of corn and money during the famine. - -The subscription proved a success. Tolstoy's aunt, the Countess A. -A. Tolstoy (who had charge of the education of Marie Alexándrovna, -subsequently Duchess of Edinburgh), mentioned the matter to the -Empress, who was one of the first to contribute. Her example was -largely followed, and altogether, in money and in kind, something -like Rs. 2,000,000, or about Ł270,000, was contributed during 1873-4. -Within a year or two, good harvests again completely changed the whole -appearance of the district. - -This was the first, but neither the last nor the worst, of the famines -in which Tolstoy rendered help. - -Before the end of August 1873 he was back at Yásnaya, and wrote to Fet: - - On the 22nd we arrived safely from Samára.... In spite of the - drought, the losses and the inconvenience, we all, even my wife, - are satisfied with our visit, and yet more satisfied to be back in - the old frame of our life; and we are now taking up our respective - labours.... - -A month later he writes again, referring to Kramskóy's portrait of -himself, a photogravure of which forms the frontispiece of this volume, -and shows the blouse which even in those days, before his Conversion, -he wore when at home, instead of a tailor-made coat: - - _25 September 1873._ - - I am beginning to write.... The children are learning; my wife is - busy and teaches. Every day for a week Kramskóy has been painting - my portrait for Tretyakóf's Gallery, and I sit and chat with him, - and try to convert him from the Petersburg faith to the faith of - the baptized. I agreed to this, because Kramskóy came personally, - and offered to paint a second portrait for us very cheaply, and - because my wife persuaded me. - -Up to this time Tolstoy, sensitive about his personal appearance, and -instinctively disliking any personal advertisement, had always had -an objection to having his portrait painted; and if he ever allowed -himself to be photographed, was careful to have the negative destroyed -that copies might not be multiplied. This prejudice he abandoned in -later life; and after Kramskóy had broken the ice, portraits and -photographs of Tolstoy became more and more common. - -Kramskóy's acquaintance with the Tolstoys came about in this way. He -was commissioned to paint a portrait of the great novelist, for the -collection of famous Russians in Tretyakóf's picture gallery in Moscow; -but sought in vain in that town for his photograph, and was too modest -to ask Tolstoy (who, he knew, was living a secluded life at Yásnaya) to -give him sittings. He therefore hired a _dátcha_, some three miles from -Yásnaya, with the intention of painting Tolstoy, who often rode past -on horseback. His intention, however, became known, and the Tolstoys -at once sent him a friendly invitation to visit them. Of the two very -similar portraits of Tolstoy which Kramskóy painted, one has remained -at Yásnaya. - -Before Tolstoy's next letter to Fet, the angel of death had crossed the -threshold of his house for the first time in his married life. On 11th -November he wrote: - - We are in trouble: Peter, our youngest, fell ill with croup and - died in two days. It is the first death in our family in eleven - years, and my wife feels it very deeply. One may console oneself - by saying that if one had to choose one of our eight, this loss is - lighter than any other would have been; but the heart, especially - the mother's heart--that wonderful and highest manifestation of - Divinity on earth--does not reason, and my wife grieves. - - -1874 - -During the whole of 1874 Tolstoy made strenuous efforts to get his -system of education more generally adopted. On 15th January, overcoming -his dislike of speaking in public, he addressed the Moscow Society of -Literacy on the subject of the best way to teach children to read. The -details of his argument need not here detain us, as it will fall to the -lot of few of my readers to teach Russian children to read Russian; -but briefly, the German _Lautiermethode_ had been adopted by Russian -pedagogues in a way that Tolstoy considered arbitrary and pedantic, -and his appeal, which in the main has not carried conviction to the -educationalists, was against that method. - -The large hall in which the meeting took place was crowded. The -President of the Society, Mr. Shatílof, invited Tolstoy to open -the debate, but Tolstoy preferred to reply to what questions and -remarks the other speakers might put. In the course of the animated -proceedings, in which several men well known in the Russian educational -world took part, the discussion widened out till it covered the -question of the whole direction of elementary education; and Tolstoy, -from the standpoint of his belief that it is harmful to force upon -the people a culture they do not demand and are not prepared for--and -much of which, though considered by us to be science, may yet turn -out to be no better than the alchemy and astrology of the Middle -Ages--denounced the education forced upon the children in elementary -schools, and declared that this should be confined in the first place -to teaching the Russian language and arithmetic, leaving natural -science and history alone. To prove the advantage of his way of -teaching reading, Tolstoy offered to give a practical demonstration in -one of the schools attached to some of the Moscow mills. Accordingly -it was arranged that this should take place the next day and the day -after, at the mills owned by Mr. Ganéshin, on the Devítche Pólye just -outside Moscow. On the morrow Tolstoy was unwell, and did not appear; -but he gave his demonstration on the evening of the following day, -with the result that, on the suggestion of Mr. Shatílof, the Society -of Literacy decided to start two temporary schools for the express -purpose of testing the rival methods during a period of seven weeks. -The one school was taught by Mr. M. E. Protopópof, an expert in the -_Lautiermethode_, while in the other school Tolstoy's method was taught -by Mr. P. V. Morózof. After seven weeks the children were examined by -a Committee, which had to report to the Society at a meeting held on -13th April. The members of the Committee however could not agree, and -handed in separate and contradictory reports. At the meeting of the -Society there was again a great divergence of opinion; and Tolstoy, -who considered that the test had not been made under proper conditions -(most of the pupils being too young, and the continual presence of -visitors preventing the teacher from holding the children's attention), -but that nevertheless his method had shown its superiority, decided to -appeal to a wider public, and did so in the form of a letter addressed -to Mr. Shatílof. - -A full account of what happened from the time the dispute passed -into the press, has been given by that powerful and popular critic -and essayest, N. K. Mihaylóvsky, who was at this time a colleague -of Nekrásof. In 1866 the _Contemporary_ had been prohibited, as a -punishment for its too Liberal tendencies. In 1868 Nekrásof and -Saltykóf (Stchedrín) had taken over the management of the _Fatherland -Journal_. Tolstoy, who had long dropped out of touch with Nekrásof, now -addressed to him a request that the _Fatherland Journal_ should take a -hand in his fight with the pedagogic specialists, and should interest a -wider public in his educational reforms. As an inducement, he held out -a prospect (never fulfilled) that he would contribute some of his works -of fiction to their magazine. The outcome of his correspondence with -Nekrásof was, that though the whole question of elementary education -was somewhat foreign to a literary magazine such as the _Fatherland -Journal_, a long article by Tolstoy (his letter to Shatílof) appeared -in the September number, under the title of _On the Education of the -People_. - -Tolstoy's educational articles in 1862, when he issued them in his own -magazine, had fallen quite flat and attracted no attention, but this -article, by the author of _War and Peace_, in a leading Petersburg -magazine, though expressing very similar views, received very much -attention, and was criticised, favourably or adversely, in a large -number of other publications. Though his views were only adopted to -a small extent, yet the severe shock which he administered to the -professional pedagogues who looked on school-children as 'a flock -existing for the sake of its shepherds,' had a most healthy influence, -and that it did not pass without some immediate practical effect is -indicated by the rejection from the Moscow Teachers' Seminary of one of -the text-books Tolstoy attacked most fiercely. - -Following on the storm raised in the press by Tolstoy's article, -Mihaylóvsky, in the _Fatherland Journal_ for January 1875, published a -long article entitled _An Outsider's Notes_, in which he took Tolstoy's -part against the pedagogues, and said: 'Though I am one of the profane -in philosophy and pedagogics, and am writing simply a _feuilleton_, I -nevertheless advise my readers to peruse this _feuilleton_ with great -attention, not for my sake, but for Tolstoy's, and for the sake of -those fine shades of thought on which I do but comment.' - -Before this, however, Tolstoy had made another attempt to improve the -state of elementary education, by promoting the establishment of that -'University in bark shoes' to which I have already alluded. - -He had found some of the boys in the Yásno-Polyána school anxious -to continue their studies after finishing the school course; and an -experiment in teaching these lads algebra had been highly successful. - -In his last article on Education, Tolstoy had pointed out that a great -obstacle to the spread of efficient elementary instruction lay in the -fact that the peasants could not afford the salaries (extremely modest -as these sound to Western ears) demanded by Russian teachers of the -non-peasant classes. It was therefore quite natural that he should -now devise a scheme for preparing teachers from among the peasants -themselves; and he drew up a project for a training college to be -established at Yásnaya, under his own direction and control. - -In the summer of this year Tolstoy paid a brief visit to his Samára -estate to look after its management; and he took his son Sergius with -him. - -On 20th November 1874 the Countess wrote to her brother: - - Our usual serious winter work is now in full swing. Leo is quite - taken up with popular education, schools, and colleges for - teachers, where teachers for the peasants' schools are to be - trained. All this keeps him busy from morning till night. I have my - doubts about all this. I am sorry his strength should be spent on - these things instead of on writing a novel; and I don't know in how - far it will be of use, since all this activity will extend only to - one small corner of Russia. - -P. F. Samárin, the Marshal of the Nobility of Toúla Government, backed -Tolstoy cordially, and pointed out that the Zémstvo (County Council) -had a sum of Rs. 30,000 available for educational purposes, and that -this might be devoted to starting a teachers' Training College. To -attain this end Tolstoy, who heretofore had always refused to stand for -election, consented to enter the Zémstvo, and after being returned to -that body, was unanimously chosen to serve on its Education Committee. - -He presented a report in the sense indicated above, which was at first -favourably discussed; but unfortunately one of the oldest members -rose, and alluding to the fact that a collection was being made all -over Russia for a monument to Catherine the Great, and that it was the -centenary of the decree by which she had created the Government of -Toúla, proposed that the money should be devoted to the monument of -their Benefactress. This loyal sentiment met with approval, and though -Tolstoy did not at once abandon his plan, the means to carry it out -were never forthcoming, and we do not hear much more of it. - -If one did not know how stupidly reactionary the governing classes -of Russia were at this period, it would seem extraordinary that the -central and the local authorities alike should have so constantly -balked and hindered Tolstoy's disinterested projects: forbidding the -publication of his newspaper for soldiers, mutilating his stories, -sending gendarmes to search his schools, looking askance at his school -magazine, and defeating his project for a Training College. Can it be -wondered at, that he came more and more to identify Government with -all that is most opposed to enlightenment? We know that similar causes -were, at that very time, driving men and women of a younger generation -to undertake dangerous propaganda work, in more or less definite -opposition to the existing order of society, among factory workmen and -country peasants. - -His devotion to educational matters did not entirely supersede, though -no doubt it delayed, his activity as a novelist. In the spring of 1874 -he had taken the commencement of _Anna Karénina_ to Moscow, but for -some reason none of it appeared that year. - -Tourgénef, in collaboration with Madame Viardot, was at this time -translating some of Tolstoy's best stories into French. Writing to Fet -in March 1874, he says: - - The season is now almost over, but all the same I will try to place - his [Tolstoy's] _Three Deaths_ in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ or - in the _Temps_, and in autumn I will without fail get out _The - Cossacks_. The more often I read that story, the more convinced I - am that it is the _chef d'oeuvre_ of Tolstoy and of all Russian - narrative literature. - -Meanwhile life and death pursued their course. In April a son was born -and christened Nicholas; and before long, death, having a few months -previously taken the youngest, returned to claim the oldest members -of the household. The first of them to go was his dearly-loved Aunty -Tatiána Alexándrovna, to whose good influence through life he owed so -much. She died on 20th June, and next year his other aunt followed her. - -Tolstoy never refers to his aunt Tatiána without letting us see how he -cherishes her memory. Here for instance are one or two of his notes -relating to her: - - When already beginning to grow feeble, having waited her - opportunity, one day when I was in her room she said to us, turning - away (I saw that she was ready to cry), 'Look here, _mes chers - amis_, my room is a good one and you will want it. If I die in - it,' and her voice trembled, 'the recollection will be unpleasant - to you; so move me somewhere else, that I may not die here.' Such - she always was, from my earliest childhood, before I was able to - understand her goodness. - -Again referring to her death, and to the love for his father which had -played so large a part in her life, he adds: - - She died peacefully, gradually falling asleep; and died as she - desired, not in the room that had been hers, lest it should be - spoilt for us. - - She died recognising hardly any one. But me she always recognised, - smiling and brightening up as an electric lamp does when one - touches the knob, and sometimes she moved her lips trying to - pronounce the name Nicholas: thus in death completely and - inseparably uniting me with him she had loved all her life. - -The opinion the peasants had of her, was shown by the fact that when -her coffin was carried through the village, there was not one hut out -of the sixty in Yásnaya Polyána, from which the people did not come out -asking to have the procession stopped and a requiem sung for her soul. -'She was a kind lady and did nobody any harm,' said they. Tolstoy adds: - - On that account they loved her, and loved her very much. Lao-Tsze - says things are valuable for what is not in them. So it is with a - life. It is most valuable if there is nothing bad in it; and in the - life of Tatiána Alexándrovna there was nothing bad. - -Except in the case of his brother Nicholas, Tolstoy has usually not -been greatly upset even by the deaths of those near and dear to him. -The following letter to Fet shows how he took Tatiána's death: - - _24 June 1874._ - - Two days ago we buried Aunt Tatiána Alexándrovna. She died slowly - and gradually, and I had grown accustomed to the process; yet her - death was, as the death of a near and dear one always is, a quite - new, isolated and unexpectedly-stirring event. The others are - well, and our house is full. The delightful heat, the bathing and - the fruit have brought me to the state of mental laziness I love, - with only enough mental life remaining to enable me to remember my - friends and think of them. - -The next letter, dated the 22nd October, tells its own tale: - - DEAR AFANÁSY AFANÁSYEVITCH,--I have planned to buy, and must buy, - some land at Nikólsky, and for that purpose must borrow Rs. 10,000 - for one year on mortgage. It may be that you have money you want to - place. If so, write to Iván Ivánovitch Orlóf, Nikólsky village, and - he will arrange the affair with you independently of our relations - to one another.... How gladly would I come to see you, were I not - so overwhelmed with the school, family and estate business, that I - have not even time to go out shooting.... I hope to be free when - winter comes. - - -1875 - -A small second edition of Tolstoy's _ABC_ Book, in twelve paper-bound -parts, was printed this year; but he did not yet feel quite satisfied -with that work, and towards the close of the year he revised it, -abbreviating, omitting the arithmetic, and introducing graduated -reading exercises. As soon as the pupil has mastered a few of the -most necessary letters and can put these together, Tolstoy contrives -out of the very simplest syllables to construct sentences that have -a meaning and an interest. The _New ABC_ Book, apart from the more -advanced _Readers_, and consisting of ninety-two pages of elementary -matter, was issued in 1875, at the low price of 14 copecks (about 4d.). -Since Tolstoy's efforts have seldom been favoured by the Government, -it is worth noting that this edition was 'Approved and recommended by -the Scholarly Committee of the Ministry of Popular Education.' Between -one and two million copies of it have since been sold. The reading -matter from his first _ABC_ Book was subsequently graded into four -cheap _Readers_ costing 3d. to 4d. each, and though not honoured by -the Ministry of Education, they have from that time to this circulated -in increasing quantities, being printed of late years in edition after -edition of 50,000 at a time. - -The Countess has in general enjoyed good health and worn her years and -the cares of her large family very lightly; but during the winter of -1874-5 her condition gave her husband much concern. In January he was -able to write to Fet: 'I have ceased to fear for my wife's health'; but -in fact for some time longer she continued to be ailing. - -The commencement of _Anna Karénina_, appeared in the first four monthly -numbers of the _Russian Messenger_ for 1875. - -By far the best English version of that novel (as also of _War -and Peace_) is Mrs. Constance Garnett's, though I do not like her -alteration of the title of the book to _Anna Karénin_, nor am I quite -satisfied with her treatment of some of the conversations in it; but -unquestionably we have much to thank her for. - -In February the baby, Nicholas, died of inflammation of the brain, and -on 4th March 1875[53] Tolstoy wrote to Fet: - - [53] This letter evidently relates to the year 1875, though in - Fet's _Vospominániya_ it is given as belonging to 1874. - - We have one grief after another; you and Márya Petróvna will - certainly be sorry for us, especially for Sónya. Our youngest son, - ten months old, fell ill three weeks ago with the dreadful illness - called 'water on the brain,' and after three weeks' terrible - torture died three days ago, and we have buried him to-day. I feel - it hard through my wife; but for her, who was nursing him herself, - it is very hard. - -In the same letter he mentions _Anna Karénina_, and immediately -afterwards he makes an allusion to the first idea of his _Confession_, -which was not actually written till 1879: - - It pleases me very much that you praise _Karénina_ and I hear that - she gets praised; but assuredly never was writer so indifferent to - his success as I am! - - On the one hand what preoccupies me are the school affairs, and on - the other, strange to say, the subject of a new work, which took - possession of me just at the worst time of the boy's illness,--and - that illness itself and death.... - - From Tourgénef I have received the translation, printed in the - _Temps_, of my _Two Hussars_, and a letter written in the third - person asking to be informed that I have received it, and saying - that other stories are being translated by Madame Viardot and - Tourgénef,--both of which were unnecessary. [Tolstoy means that - they need neither have sent him the translation, nor informed him - of what they were doing.] - -The commencement of _Anna Karénina_ did not find favour with Tourgénef, -who on 14th March wrote from Paris to A. S. Souvórin, the novelist and -proprietor of the _Nóvoye Vrémya_ (_New Times_): - - His [Tolstoy's] talent is quite extraordinary, but in _Anna - Karénina_ he, as one says here, _a fait fausse route_; one feels - the influence of Moscow, Slavophil nobility, Orthodox old maids, - his own isolation, and the absence of real artistic freedom. Part - II is simply dull and shallow--that's what's the matter. - -And writing in similar strains to Polónsky the poet, Tourgénef said: - - _Anna Karénina_ does not please me, though there are some truly - splendid pages (the steeplechase, the mowing, and the hunt). But - it is all sour: smells of Moscow, holy oil, old maidishness, - Slavophilism, and the aristocracy, etc. - -The cordiality of Tourgénef's appreciation of Tolstoy's writings in -general, is sufficient guarantee that it was no personal prejudice -that led him to speak in this way of a book which is one of Tolstoy's -three most important novels, and which many people hold to be the best -of them all. What really caused his harsh judgment, is a matter I will -deal with later on. - -This summer the whole Tolstoy family went to the Samára estates, which -had already been considerably increased by the last purchase, and which -ultimately exceeded 16,000 acres. Mouhamed Shah with his herd of mares -and his _kotchévka_--which Tolstoy called 'our saloon'--again appeared -on the scene. A second _kotchévka_ was set up for the use of the -Tolstoys themselves, and was so much in favour that all the members of -the family were eager to occupy it. - -The novelty and the peculiarities of steppe farming interested Tolstoy, -and he, as well as other members of his household, took an active part -in harvesting and winnowing. How primitive were the Samára methods of -agriculture may be shown by mentioning their manner of threshing. A -ring of horses was formed, tied head to tail. In the centre of the ring -stood a driver with a long lash, and the horses were set trotting round -a corresponding circle of sheaves, out of which they trod the grain. - -The virgin soil was ploughed up by five or even six pair of oxen, -wearing round their necks deep-toned bells, sounding in a minor key. -These things, together with the pipes of the boys who watched the -herds, the sultry days, and the marvellously clear moonlit nights, had -a wonderful charm for the whole party, and this charm was increased -by Tolstoy's capacity to notice and direct attention to whatever was -interesting or beautiful. - -The whole family became interested, Behrs tells us, in their new -farming, and some of them went with Tolstoy as far afield as Orenbourg -to purchase cattle and horses. - -He bought about a hundred Bashkír mares and crossed them with an -English trotter and with horses of other breeds, hoping to obtain a -good new type. - -One evening his whole herd, and Mouhamed Shah's as well, were very -nearly driven off by some Kirghiz nomads who were passing. The invaders -were, however, pursued and driven off by two mounted Bashkír labourers. - -Tolstoy declared farming in Samára to be a game of chance. It cost -nearly three times as much to plough up the land, sow it, and gather -in a harvest, as it did to purchase the freehold of the estate; and -if during May and June there was not at least one good fall of rain, -everything perished; whereas if it rained several times, the harvest -yielded thirty to forty-fold. - -One day, at harvest time, a poor wandering Tartar, drawing two little -children in a tiny cart, came up to the balcony on which the Tolstoys -were sitting, and asked to be hired as a labourer. He was allowed to -set up his wigwam in a field close by, and the Tolstoy children used to -go there every day to feed the little Tartars. - -In the neighbouring village lived several well-to-do Russian peasants -with whom Tolstoy was on very good terms. Either because they were -economically independent and lived in a province where serfdom had -not prevailed, or as a result of Tolstoy's tact and ability to set -people at their ease, these peasants always behaved with dignity and -self-respect. They shook hands when they said 'How do you do?' and -seemed quite at home with the Count. - -He used to notice with pleasure the good relations and complete -religious toleration that existed in those parts between the Orthodox -peasants and their Mohammedan neighbours; and he was also delighted -that the priest at Pátrovka was on friendly terms with the Molokáns he -was trying to convert. - -One rainy night, after staying late at this priest's house, Tolstoy -and his brother-in-law completely lost their way. It was so dark -that they could not see their horses' heads. Behrs was riding an old -working horse, which kept pulling to the left. Tolstoy, on hearing -this, told him to let the horse follow its bent. Behrs therefore tied -his reins so that they hung loose, and wrapping himself in his cloak -from the drenching rain, allowed the horse to go where it liked. -Carefully avoiding the ploughed land, it soon brought them out on to -the road, and, curiously enough, to just the one part of it which was -distinguishable from the extraordinary sameness of the rest, so that -the riders knew just where they were. - -The most striking event of this year's stay in Samára was a horse race, -arranged by Tolstoy. Mouhamed Shah was authorised to announce to the -peasants and neighbours that races would be held on the Count's estate; -and invitations were sent to all likely to take part. Bashkírs and -Kirghiz assembled, bringing with them tents, portable copper boilers, -plenty of koumýs, and even sheep. Oural Cossacks and Russian peasants -also came from the whole surrounding neighbourhood. In preparation for -the race, says Behrs: - - We ourselves chose a level place, measured out a huge circle three - miles in circumference, marked it by running a plough round, and - set up posts. Sheep and even one horse were prepared with which - to regale visitors. By the appointed day some thousands of people - had collected. On the wild steppe, covered with feather grass, - a row of tents appeared, and soon a motley crowd enlivened it. - On the conical hillocks (locally called 'cones') felt and other - carpets were spread, on which the Bashkírs sat in circles, their - legs tucked under them. In the centre of the circle, out of a large - _toursouk_ [a leather bottle made of an animal's leg] a young - Bashkír poured koumýs, handing the cup to each of the company in - turn. Their songs, and the tunes played on their pipes and reeds, - sounded somewhat dreary to a European ear. Wrestling, at which the - Bashkírs are particularly skilful, could be seen here and there. - Thirty trained horses were entered for the chief race. The riders - were boys of about ten years, who rode without saddles. - -This race was for thirty-three miles, and it took exactly an hour and -forty minutes; consequently it was run at the rate of three minutes -a mile. Of the thirty horses, ten ran the whole distance, the others -giving up. The principal prizes were a horse, an ox, a gun, a clock, -and a dressing-gown. The festival lasted two days, and passed off in -perfect order and very gaily. To Tolstoy's delight no police were -present. The guests all politely thanked their host and departed highly -satisfied. 'Even in the crowd,' says Behrs, 'it seemed to me that Leo -Nikoláyevitch knew how to evoke _entrain_ combined with respect for -good order.' - -Tolstoy visited the Petróvsky Fair, as was his yearly custom, and -stayed at the Bouzouloúk Monastery, where a hermit resided who was -'saving his soul' by a solitary and ascetic life. This man lived in an -underground catacomb. When he came out he walked about the garden and -showed his visitors an apple-tree he had planted forty years before, -under which it was his custom to sit when receiving pilgrims. He spoke -to Tolstoy about the Scriptures, and showed him his catacomb-home, the -coffin in which he slept, and the large crucifix before which he prayed. - -Tolstoy considered that the respect paid to this man by pilgrims and -other visitors, was the outcome of genuine religious feeling, and -proved that the hermit, by giving the example of a pure, unworldly -life, supplied a real want. - -Readers of Tolstoy's short stories will be aware of the use to which he -subsequently put his knowledge of the Bashkírs and of the hermit. - -On 26th August, after reaching Yásnaya, he wrote to Fet: - - Two days ago we arrived home safely.... - - We have had an average harvest, but the price of labour has been - enormous, so that finally ends only just meet. For two months I - have not soiled my hands with ink nor my heart with thoughts. Now I - am settling down again to dull, common-place _Anna Karénina_ with - the sole desire to clear a space quickly, and obtain leisure for - other occupations--only not for the educational work I love but - wish to abandon. It takes too much time. - -His Samára experiences confirmed in him the feeling that not the -civilisation and progress and political struggles of the Western -world and of the small Westernised section of Russians, were really -important, but the great primitive struggle of plain people to obtain -a subsistence in healthy natural conditions; and he adds in the same -letter: - - Why fate took me there [to Samára] I do not know; but I know - that I have listened to speeches in the English Parliament, - which is considered very important, and it seemed to me dull and - insignificant; but there, are flies, dirt, and Bashkír peasants, - and I, watching them with intense respect and anxiety, became - absorbed in listening to them and watching them, and felt it all to - be very important. - - One must live as we lived, in a healthy out-of-the-way part of - Samára, and see the struggle going on before one's eyes of the - nomadic life (of millions of people on an immense territory) with - the primitive agricultural life, in order to realise all the - importance of that struggle. - -After their return from the Government of Samára, all the children got -hooping-cough. The Countess caught it from them, and, being in the -sixth month of pregnancy, was very ill. This resulted in the premature -birth of a girl, Varvára, who lived less than two hours. - -Tolstoy's eldest son, Sergius, had now reached the age of twelve. -Besides their English governess and a Swiss lady, the children had -at different times a Swiss, a Frenchman, and a German as tutors for -modern languages. Tutors and students who acted as tutors, also lodged -at Yásnaya and taught other subjects. A music master came over from -Toúla. The eldest boy had considerable musical talent, and the family -as a whole were musical. As soon as they had mastered their finger -exercises, the Count insisted on their at once being allowed to learn -serious pieces. - -Every effort was made to awaken and foster the talent for drawing -and painting which some of the children, and especially the eldest -daughter, Tatiána, possessed; but lessons in these subjects were only -given to those who showed real capacity for them. - -Much as Tolstoy disliked the curriculum of the Grammar Schools -('Gymnasiums,' as they are called in Russia), he did, not wish to make -it impossible for his sons to enter the University, and they followed -the usual classical course. Sergius passed his examinations each year -in Toúla Gymnasium, being carefully coached at home. - -In his _Recollections_ Behrs tells us of Tolstoy's enlivening influence -in the family: - - I cannot sufficiently describe the joyous and happy frame of mind - that usually reigned at Yásnaya Polyána. Its source was always Leo - Nikoláyevitch. In conversation about abstract questions, about - the education of children, about outside matters--his opinion was - always most interesting. When playing croquet, or during our walks, - he enlivened us all by his humour and his participation, taking a - real part in the game or the walk. - - With me, he liked to mow, or use the rake; to do gymnastics, to - race, and occasionally to play leap-frog or _gorodkí_ [a game in - which a stick is thrown at some other shorter sticks placed in - a pattern], etc. Though far inferior to him in strength, for he - could lift 180 lbs. with one hand, I could easily match him in a - race, but seldom passed him, for I was always laughing. That mood - accompanied all our exercises. Whenever we happened to pass where - mowers were at work, he would go up to them and borrow a scythe - from the one who seemed most tired. I of course imitated his - example. He would then ask me, Why we, with well-developed muscles, - cannot mow six days on end, though a peasant does it on rye-bread, - and sleeping on damp earth? 'You just try to do it under such - conditions,' he would add in conclusion. When leaving the meadow, - he would take a handful of hay from the haycock and sniff it, - keenly enjoying its smell. - -Children and grown-ups alike played croquet at Yásnaya. The game -generally began after dinner in the evening, and only finished by -candlelight. Behrs says that, having played it with Tolstoy, he -considers croquet to be a game of chance. Tolstoy's commendation of a -good shot always pleased the player and aroused the emulation of his -opponents. The kindly irony of his comments on a miss, also acted as -a spur. A simple word from him, uttered just at the right moment and -in the right tone, produced that _entrain_ which makes any occupation -interesting and infects all who come under its influence. - -The sincerity of Tolstoy's nature showed itself in the frank expression -of his passing mood. If, when driving to the station, he saw that they -had missed the train, he would exclaim, 'Ach! we've missed it!' with -such intensity that every one within earshot would first feel as though -a calamity had occurred, and would then join in the hearty laughter -which his own vehement exclamation evoked in Tolstoy. It was the same -when he made a bad miss at croquet; and also if, when sitting at home, -he suddenly remembered some engagement he had forgotten to keep. If, -as sometimes happened, his exclamation alarmed his wife, he would -half-jokingly add, like a scolded child, 'I'll never do it again!' - -His laughter, which began on a high note, had something wonderfully -infectious about it. His head would hang over on one side, and his -whole body would shake. - -His good-natured irony constantly acted as a stimulant to those about -him. If, for instance, some one was in the dumps about the weather, -Tolstoy would say: 'Is your weather behaving badly?' Or when Behrs was -sitting comfortably listening to a conversation, he would say to him: -'As you are on the move, you might please bring me so-and-so.' - -When he felt it wise to reject an extra cigar or a second helping of -some favourite dish, he would remark to those present: 'Wait till I am -grown up, and then I will have two helpings,' or 'two cigars,' as the -case might be. - -If, says Behrs, 'he noticed any of the children making a wry or -affected face, he generally called out, "Now then, no grimacing; you'll -only spoil your phiz."' - -Behrs also tells us that. - - What he called 'the Numidian cavalry' evoked our noisiest applause. - He would unexpectedly spring up from his place and, raising one - arm in the air with its hand hanging quite loose from the wrist, - he would run lightly through the rooms. All the children, and - sometimes the grown-ups also, would follow his example with the - same suddenness. - -Tolstoy read aloud very well, and would often read to the family or to -visitors. - -His contempt for doctors and medicine is plainly indicated both in -_War and Peace_ and _Anna Karénina_. Like Rousseau he considered -that the practice of medicine should be general and not confined -to one profession; and this opinion inclined him to approve of the -folk-remedies used by the peasants. But he did not go the length of -refusing to call in a doctor when one of the family was seriously ill. - -Before the year closed, Tolstoy's aunt, Pelagéya Ilýnishna Úshkof, with -whom he had lived in his young days in Kazán, also passed away. She -had been separated from her husband before his death in 1869, and had -long not even seen him, though they remained quite friendly towards -one another. She was very religious in an Orthodox Church way, and -after her husband's death retired to the Óptin nunnery. Subsequently -she moved to the Toúla nunnery, but arranged to spend much of her time -at Yásnaya; where in her eightieth year she fell ill and died. She was -in general a good-tempered though not clever woman, and all her life -long strictly observed the ceremonies of the Church and thought that -she firmly believed its teaching about redemption and resurrection; -yet she was so afraid of death that on her death-bed she was reluctant -to receive the eucharist, because it brought home to her mind the fact -that she was dying; and as a consequence of the sufferings caused by -the fear of death, she became irritable with all about her. - -A servant who lived in the house at the time, tells that while at -Yásnaya she used, on the first of each month, to send for a priest. -As soon as he arrived, and began the usual ceremony of blessing -with holy water, Tolstoy would escape and hide himself. Not till -the gardener, Semyón--whom he used to send into the conservatory to -reconnoitre--brought him word that the priest had gone, would Tolstoy -reappear in the house. - -About that time, however, his attitude towards Church ceremonies -altered. His man-servant Sergéy Arboúzof (who saw only the external -signs of the complex inner struggle going on in Tolstoy) tells us: - - Suddenly a wonderful change came over him, of which I was a - witness. In 1875 a priest, Vasíly Ivánovitch, from the Toúla - Seminary, used to come to teach theology to Tolstoy's children. At - first, Leo Nikoláyevitch hardly ever talked to him, but it once - happened that a snow-storm obliged Vasíly Ivánovitch to stop the - night at our house. The Count began a conversation with him, and - they did not go to bed till daylight. They talked the whole night. - - From that day Leo Nikoláyevitch became very thoughtful, and always - talked with Vasíly Ivánovitch. When Lent came round, the Count - got up one morning and said, 'I am going to do my devotions, - and prepare to receive communion. You can go back to bed, but - first tell the coachman not to get up. I will saddle Kalmýk (his - favourite horse at that time) myself. Forgive me, Sergéy, if I have - ever offended you!' and he went off to church. - - From that day for a couple of years he always went to church, - seldom missing a Sunday. The whole village was surprised, and - asked, 'What has the priest told the Count, that has suddenly made - him so fond of church-going?' - - It used to happen that the Count would come into my hut when I was - teaching my little boy religion. - - 'What are you teaching him?' he would ask. - - And I used to say, 'To pray.' - - 'Ah!' said he, 'that is right. A man who does not pray to God is - not a real man.' - - -1876 - -The publication of _Anna Karénina_ was renewed in the first four -numbers of the _Russian Messenger_ for 1876. - -On 1st March Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - Things are still not all right with us. My wife does not get over - her last illness, coughs, gets thin, and has first fever and then - headaches. And therefore the house lacks well-being, and I lack - mental tranquillity, which I now particularly need for my work. The - end of winter and beginning of spring is always my chief time for - work, and I must finish my novel, which now wearies me.... I always - hope a tooth will come loose in your jaw, or in your thrashing - machine, and cause you to go to Moscow. Then I shall spin a cobweb - at Kozlóvka [the nearest station to Yásnaya] and catch you. - -In April Fet wrote to Tolstoy to say that he had been seriously -ill, had thought he was dying, and 'wished to call you to see how I -departed.' On 29th April Tolstoy replies in a letter notable because -it gives us a glimpse of the progress he had made in the fierce -five-year inner struggle with doubt which preceded the production of -his _Confession_: - - I am grateful to you for thinking of calling me to see your - departure, when you supposed it was near. I will do the same when - I get ready to go _thither_, if I am able to think. No one will - be so necessary to me at that moment as you and my brother. When - death draws near, intercourse with people who in this life look - beyond its bounds, is precious and cheering; and you and those - rare _real_ people I have met in life, always stand on the very - verge and see clearly, just because they look now at Nirvana--the - illimitable, the unknown--and now at Sansara; and that glance at - Nirvana strengthens their sight. But worldly people, however much - they may talk about God, are unpleasant to you and me, and must - be a torment when one is dying, for they do not see what we see, - namely the God who 'is more indefinite and distant, but loftier and - more indubitable,' as was said in that article. - - You are ill and think of death, and I am alive and do not cease - thinking of and preparing for the same thing.... Much that I have - thought, I have tried to express in the last chapter of the April - number of the _Russian Messenger_ [_Anna Karénina_, Part I, Chap. - XX]. - -The passage referred to, telling of the death of Lévin's brother, is -evidently based on the death of Tolstoy's own brother Demetrius; and -it may here be mentioned that many characters in _Anna Karénina_ are -drawn more or less closely from life. For instance, Agáfya Miháylovna, -the servant, was a real person, and that was her real name. She died at -Yásnaya only a few years ago. Yásnaya Polyána itself, in many of its -details, is also described in the novel. - -On 12th May Tolstoy again writes to Fet: - - It is already five days since I received the horse, and every day - I prepare but never make time to write to you. Here the spring - and summer life has begun, and our house is full of guests and of - bustle. This summer life seems to me like a dream: it contains some - slight remains of my real, winter life, but consists chiefly of - visions, now pleasant and now unpleasant, from some absurd world - not ruled by sane sense. Among these visions came your beautiful - stallion. I am very much obliged to you for it. Where am I to send - the money to?... - - An event which occupies me very much at present is Sergey's - examinations, which begin on the 27th.... What a terrible summer! - Here it is dreadful and mournful to look at the wood, especially at - the young trees. They have all perished. - -On 18th May he wrote again: - - I have been slow in answering your long and cordial letter because - I have been unwell and dispirited, as I still am, but I will - write at least a few lines. Our house is full of people: my niece - Nagórnaya with two children, the Kouzmínskys with four children; - and Sónya [the Countess] is still poorly, and I dejected and - dull-minded. Our one hope was for good weather, and that we have - not got. As you and I resemble one another, you must know the - condition in which one feels oneself to be, now a God from whom - nothing is hid, and now stupider than a horse. In that state I am - at present. So do not be exacting. Till next letter, yours, - - L. TOLSTOY. - -The Kouzmínskys referred to above were Tánya, her husband, and their -family. They spent every summer at Yásnaya, in the 'wing' house. When -discussing any excursion or other undertaking with Mr. Kouzmínsky, -Tolstoy would often say, 'But we must hear what the Authorities have -to say about it,' the Authorities being their wives. - -Passing into his 'summer condition,' Tolstoy's attention to -_Anna Karénina_ slackened; but before the end of the year he set -energetically to work to finish it. The interest aroused by the book -was extreme, and the story goes that Moscow ladies used to send to the -establishment where the novel was being printed, to try to find out -what the continuation would be. - -On 21st July Tolstoy writes inviting Fet's brother, Peter -Afánasyevitch, a great lover of horses, to accompany him to Samára; and -in the same letter he makes an allusion to the troubles of the Slavs in -Turkey, where fighting had already been going on for a twelvemonth with -the Herzegovinians. Peter Afanásyevitch had gone as a volunteer, and -had returned after the failure of the insurrection. - - _21 July 1876._ - - I am very much to blame, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch, for having - been so slow in writing to you. I prepare to write every day, but - cannot find time because I am doing nothing.... Stráhof was here a - week ago, and we philosophised to the point of weariness.... - - I press the hand of Peter Afanásyevitch. I should like to hear - his stories about Herzegovina, in the existence of which I do not - believe! - - I am arranging to go to Samára in September. If Peter Afanásyevitch - has no plans for September, will not he go with me to see the - Kirghiz and their horses? How jolly it would be! - -Mention has already been made of the fact that Tolstoy, who understood -horses very well, was at this time interested in horse-breeding as -a source of revenue. To buy them he visited Orenbourg, where he met -General Kryzhanóvsky, a friend who had been one of his superior -officers in Sevastopol and was now Governor-General of this northern -Province. They spent the time together very pleasantly recalling their -past experiences. - -To his wife, who had found it hard to consent to his absence, he wrote -in September: - - I know that it is hard for you, and that you are afraid; but I saw - the effort you made to control yourself and not to hinder me and, - were it possible, I loved you yet more on that account. If only God - grants you to spend the time well, healthily, energetically and - usefully!... Lord have mercy on me and on thee! - -In a letter of 13th November Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - Pity me for two things: (1) a good-for-nothing coachman took the - stallions to Samára and, wishing to take a short cut, drowned - Gouneba in a bog within ten miles of the estate; (2) I sleep and - cannot write; I despise myself for laziness and do not allow myself - to take up any other work. - -Twenty-eight years after the loss of Gouneba, the Countess, in speaking -to me of her husband's qualities as a man of affairs, remarked that -his schemes were very good, but that he generally spoilt them by -lack of care in details. 'For instance,' she remarked, 'it was quite -a good idea of his to send a very fine stallion which cost Rs. 2000 -[about Ł260] to our estate in Samára. There were no such horses in the -district; but he must needs entrust it to a drunken Tartar who made -away with it and said he had lost it.' - -On 7th December 1876 Tolstoy wrote to Fet acknowledging a poem, 'Among -the Stars,' which the latter had sent him: - - That poem is not only worthy of you, but is specially, specially - good, with that philosophic-poetic character which I expect from - you. It is excellent that it is said by the stars.... It is also - good, as my wife remarked, that on the same sheet on which the poem - is written, you pour out your grief that the price of kerosene has - risen to 12 copecks. That is an indirect but sure sign of a poet. - -The reader is by this time well aware of Tolstoy's devotion to music. -Though it was at times crowded out of his life by other interests, he -always returned to it with ardour when opportunity offered. Behrs tells -us that Tolstoy generally, when playing, chose serious music. - - He often sat down to the piano before beginning to work.... He - always accompanied my youngest sister [Tánya] and enjoyed her - singing very much. I noticed that the sensation music evoked in - him expressed itself by a slight pallor and a scarcely perceptible - grimace, suggestive of something like terror. Hardly a day passed - in summer without my sister singing and without the piano being - played. Occasionally we all sang together, and he always played the - accompaniments. - -As Tolstoy's spiritual crisis approached, the attraction of music -for him seemed to increase, and it was about this period, that is to -say in December 1876, that he made acquaintance with the composer -P. I. Tschaikóvsky, who had held the post of Director of the Moscow -Conservatoire, the first seeds of which Tolstoy had helped to plant -nearly twenty years before. - -Tschaikóvsky had from his youth up been a devoted admirer of Tolstoy, -whose skill in reading the human heart appeared to him almost -superhuman. He was therefore highly gratified when Tolstoy of his own -accord sought his acquaintance. At first their personal intercourse did -not appear to lessen the composer's reverence for the author, for on -23rd December 1876 he wrote to a friend: - - Count L. N. Tolstoy spent some time here recently. He visited - me several times and spent two whole evenings with me. I am - tremendously flattered, and proud of the interest I have inspired - in him, and for my part am completely enchanted by his ideal - personality. - -Tschaikóvsky induced Nicholas Rubinstein, then Director of the Moscow -Conservatoire, to arrange a musical evening solely for Tolstoy, and -at this concert, Rubinstein, Fitzenhagen, and Adolph Bródsky, who is -now Principal of the Manchester College of Music, were among the chief -performers. - -One of the pieces performed by a quartet was Tschaikóvsky's 'Andante -in D Major,' which so affected Tolstoy that he wept. 'Never, perhaps, -in my life,' says Tschaikóvsky, 'was I so flattered, or my vanity as a -composer so touched, as when Leo Nikoláyevitch, sitting next to me and -listening to the quartet performing my Andante, burst into tears.' - -After Tolstoy had returned to Yásnaya he wrote to Tschaikóvsky, sending -him a collection of folk-songs, and saying: - - I send you the songs, dear Peter Ilyítch. I have again looked them - through. They will be a wonderful treasure in your hands. But for - God's sake work them up and use them in a Mozart-Haydn style, and - not in a Beethoven-Schumann-Berlioz, artificial way, seeking the - unexpected. How much I left unsaid to you. I really said nothing - of what I wanted to say. There was no time. I was enjoying myself. - This last stay of mine in Moscow will remain one of the best of my - reminiscences. Never have I received so precious a reward for my - literary labours as on that wonderful evening. - -Tschaikóvsky replied: - - Count, I am sincerely grateful to you for sending the songs. I must - tell you candidly that they have been taken down by an unskilful - hand, and bear only traces of their pristine beauty. The chief - defect is that they have been artificially squeezed and forced into - a regular, measured form. Only Russian dance music has a rhythm and - a regular and equally accentuated beat; but folk-ballads have of - course nothing in common with dance songs. Moreover, most of these - songs are, arbitrarily it seems, written in a solemn D Major, which - again does not suit a real Russian song, which almost always has an - indefinite tonality approximating nearest of all to ancient Church - music. In general, the songs you have sent me cannot be worked up - in a regular and systematic way: that is to say, one cannot make a - collection of them, because for that they would have to be taken - down as nearly as possible in the way in which the people perform - them. That is an extremely difficult matter, demanding fine musical - feeling and great historico-musical erudition. Except Balakíref, - and to some extent Prokoúnin, I do not know any one competent for - the task. But as material for symphonic treatment, your songs can - be of use, and are even very good material, which I certainly will - avail myself of in one way or other. - -It is rather disappointing to find that the intercourse between these -two men, each so great in his own way, and each such an admirer of the -other's genius, was not continued. - -Tschaikóvsky's expectations had been pitched too high, and he felt a -certain disappointment that his 'demigod' was, after all, but human. He -had dreaded to meet the novelist lest the latter should penetrate the -secret recesses of his soul; but, says Tschaikóvsky: - - He who in his writings was the deepest of heart-seers, proved in - personal contact to be a man of simple, whole, and frank nature, - showing very little of the omniscience I had feared.... It was - plain he did not at all regard me as a subject for his observation, - but simply wanted to chat about music, in which he was then - interested. He took a pleasure in denying Beethoven, and plainly - expressed doubts of his genius. This was a trait not at all worthy - of a great man. To pull down a universally acknowledged genius to - the level of one's own intelligence, is characteristic of small - people. - -Feeling thus, Tschaikóvsky purposely avoided meeting Tolstoy again, and -even took a temporary aversion to _Anna Karénina_, though eventually he -returned to his former admiration of Tolstoy's novels. - -Tschaikóvsky was not aware of the reasons Tolstoy had for the -unorthodox position he held on art generally and music in particular: -reasons which it will be more in place to deal with later on, and which -I have in fact already treated of at some length in a previous work, -_Tolstoy and his Problems_. Here let it suffice to say that there -is plenty of evidence to show that Tolstoy can enjoy Beethoven, and -enjoy even the works of Beethoven's last period, which are the ones he -criticises. There is, for instance, the episode with Mlle. Oberlender, -which will be recounted later on, and we have his own statement in -_What is Art?_: - - I should mention that whatever other people understand of the - productions of Beethoven's later period, I, being very susceptible - to music, equally understand. For a long time I used to attune - myself so as to delight in those shapeless improvisations which - form the subject-matter of the works of Beethoven's later period; - but I had only to consider the question of art seriously, and to - compare the impression I received from Beethoven's later works with - those pleasant, clear, and strong musical impressions which are - transmitted, for instance, by the melodies of Bach (his arias), - Haydn, Mozart, Chopin (when his melodies are not overloaded with - complications and ornamentation), and of Beethoven himself in his - earlier period, and above all, with the impressions produced by - folk-songs,--Italian, Norwegian, or Russian,--by the Hungarian - _tzardas_, and other such simple, clear, and powerful music, and - the obscure, almost unhealthy excitement from Beethoven's later - pieces that I had artificially evoked in myself was destroyed. - -His work among peasant children has convinced him that the normal human -being possesses capacities for the enjoyment of art; and that in most -unexpected places the capacity to produce admirable art is now lying -latent. That is why he sets up Brevity, Simplicity, and Sincerity -as the criterions of art, and why he believes that folk-tales and -folk-songs and folk-dances, the Gospel parables, such Old Testament -stories as the history of Joseph, the Arabian Nights and the Christmas -Carol; and music such as the _tzardas_, the _Swanee River_, the _Old -Hundredth_, and Bach's arias, are infinitely more important to the life -and well-being of humanity than _King Lear_ or the _Ninth Symphony_. - -Tolstoy--who had boasted of not reading newspapers, and who had lived -so detached from politics and the events of contemporary history--began -at this time to feel keenly interested in a question closely connected -with Russia's foreign policy. - -Following the insurrection in Herzegovina, another had broken -out in Bulgaria in May 1876, but had been quickly suppressed by -the Turks, who burnt some sixty-five villages; the Bashi-Bazouks -committing unspeakable atrocities on the defenceless inhabitants. At -the commencement of July, Servia and Montenegro declared war against -Turkey; but, in spite of help rendered by numerous Russian volunteers, -they were soon crushed by the Turks, and would have been completely -at their mercy had not Russia, on 31st October, issued an ultimatum -demanding an armistice, which Turkey conceded. On 10th November -Alexander II made a speech in the Moscow Krémlin, in which he declared -that he would act independently of the other powers unless satisfactory -guarantees of reform were obtained forthwith from the Sultan. These -events gradually led to the war which broke out between Russia and -Turkey in April 1877. - -Before this, however, in the letter of 13th November 1876, already -quoted, Tolstoy wrote to Fet: - - I went to Moscow to hear about the war. This whole affair agitates - me greatly. It is well for those to whom it is clear; but I am - frightened when I begin to reflect on all the complexity of the - conditions amid which history is made, and how some Madame A.--with - her vanity--becomes an indispensable cog in the whole machine! - -The Russo-Turkish imbroglio led, early in 1877, to a split between -Tolstoy and Katkóf. Tolstoy, at bottom and in his own original way, -was certainly a reformer; and his alliance with Katkóf, who was quite -reactionary, had always been rather like the yoking of an ox with an -ass. At this time Katkóf was ardent for the liberation of the Slavs -from Turkish tyranny, laudatory of those who volunteered for the war, -and eager for the aggrandisement of Russia. Tolstoy, with his knowledge -of the realities of war and his insight into the motives that actuate -the men who fight, had his doubts about the heroic and self-sacrificing -character of the volunteers and the purity of the patriotism of the -press; and he expressed these doubts very plainly in some of the -concluding chapters of _Anna Karénina_: as, for instance, where he -makes Lévin say of 'the unanimity of the press': - - 'That's been explained to me: as soon as there's a war their - incomes are doubled. So how can they help believing in the - destinies of the people and the Slavonic races ... and all the rest - of it?' - -The result was that when the final chapters of the novel were appearing -in the _Russian Messenger_ during the first months of 1877, Katkóf -returned some of the MS. to Tolstoy with numerous corrections and a -letter saying that he could not print it unless his corrections were -accepted. - -Tolstoy was furious that a journalist should dare to alter a single -word in his book, and in reply sent a sharp letter to Katkóf, which -resulted in a rupture. Tolstoy issued the last part of _Anna Karénina_ -separately in book form and not in the magazine, besides, of course, -issuing the whole work in book form, as usual; and, in the May number -of his _Russian Messenger_, Katkóf had to wind up the story as best he -could, by giving a brief summary of the concluding part. - -These events throw light on the following letter to Fet: - - _23 March 1877._ - - You can't imagine how glad I am to have your approval of my - writings, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch, and in general to receive - your letter. You write that the _Russian Messenger_ has printed - some one else's poem, while your _Temptation_ lies waiting. It is - the dullest and deadest editorial office in existence. They have - become terribly repulsive to me, not on my own account, but for the - sake of others.... - - My head is now better, but as it gets better it has to work that - much harder. March and the beginning of April are the months when I - work most, and I still continue to be under the delusion that what - I am writing is very important, though I know that in a month's - time I shall be ashamed to remember that I thought so. Have you - noticed that a new line has now been started, and that everybody is - writing poetry: very bad poetry, but they all do it. Some five new - poets have introduced themselves to me lately. - -The dislike Tolstoy felt of the artificially stimulated war fever -(though, to do Katkóf and his friends justice, one must admit that no -European Power during the last fifty years has had more justification -for war than Russia had for intervening in defence of the Slav -population of Turkey) was connected with the religious impulse that was -beginning to reshape his whole life; but it does not appear that he -actually disapproved of the war after Russia had officially commenced -it. What he primarily objected to was, that private individuals should -push the Government into a war. - -An influence which has left its traces in the latter part of _Anna -Karénina_ (particularly Part VII, Chap. 21) was Tolstoy's intercourse, -about this time, with some of the most prominent followers of Lord -Radstock, who frequently visited Russia and obtained considerable -influence with a number of people in certain aristocratic Petersburg -circles. One of these people, Count A. P. Bóbrinsky, who had been -Minister of Ways of Communication, made Tolstoy's acquaintance and had -animated religious discussions with him. Both Bóbrinsky and Colonel -Páshkof (another very prominent Radstockite) for a while cherished -hopes of winning Tolstoy over to Evangelical Christianity, and making -him the spokesman of their cause. Tolstoy, as the event proved, was -quite capable of throwing himself whole-heartedly into a religious -movement; but he needed a faith much more clear-cut than the scheme -of Redemption by the blood of Jesus: one that faced the facts of -life, dealt explicitly with the bread-and-butter problem, and told -men how to regard the fact that some people have to overtax their -strength without ever reaching an assured maintenance, while others -have a superabundance provided for them from their birth without ever -needing to do a stroke of work. His profound contempt for Evangelical -doctrines flashed out twenty years later, in the 17th Chapter of Book -II of _Resurrection_. - -It was a little before this that Fet told Tolstoy the following story. -Sauntering in a churchyard, he had come upon an inscription which -touched him more than any epitaph he had ever read. The tombstone was -in the form of an obelisk of plain grey sandstone. On one of its four -sides were deeply cut the words: - - _Here is buried the body of the peasant girl Mary_; - -on another side: - - _Here also is buried an infant of the female sex_. - -On the side opposite the name of the deceased stood these words -ill-spelt: - - _This, my dear, is the last adornment I can give thee_; - -and below stood the name of - - _Retired non-commissioned officer So-and-so_. - -In his next letter Tolstoy writes: - - _18 October 1876._ - - _This, my dear, is the last adornment I can give thee_ is charming! - I have told it twice, and each time my voice has broken with tears. - - -1877 - -In Tolstoy's next letter to Fet, dated 11th January, we get a glimpse -of one of the reasons that led this strenuous worker to prefer a -country life: - - DEAR AFANÁSY AFANÁSYEVITCH,--One does not strike or cut off - the head that owns its fault! I confess that I am quite at - fault towards you. But truly, in Moscow I am in a condition of - irresponsibility; my nerves are out of order, the hours turn to - minutes, and as though on purpose, the people I do not want turn up - and prevent my seeing those whom I do want. - -Among the people whom in his search for truth Tolstoy did want to know, -were some of the leading scientists of that day--a day when many men -thought that Darwin had opened the gateway to a knowledge which would -gradually solve the mysteries of life and death, the here and the -hereafter. The great literary fame Tolstoy now enjoyed made it an easy -matter to make such acquaintances. - -One of the scientists he got to know, was a celebrated professor of -Chemistry, A. M. Boutleróf, whom to his amazement he found to be much -concerned with table-turning and spiritualism; occupations Tolstoy held -in contempt. - -A letter to Fet, dated 14th April, gives some inkling of what was going -on in Tolstoy's mind at this time: - - I value every letter of yours, especially such as this last! You - would hardly believe how pleased I am at what you write 'On the - existence of the Deity.' I agree with it all, and should like to - say much about it, but cannot in a letter, and am too busy. It is - the first time you have spoken to me about the Deity--God. And I - have long been thinking unceasingly about that chief problem. Do - not say that one cannot think about it! One not only can, but must! - In all ages the best, the real people, have thought about it. And - if we cannot think of it as they did, we must find out _how_. Have - you read _Pensées de Pascal_--_i.e._ have you read it recently with - a mature head-piece? When (which God grant) you come to see me, we - will talk of many things, and I will give you that book. Were I - free from my novel--of which the end is already in type and I am - correcting the proofs--I would at once on receipt of your letter - have come to you. - -In the middle of this summer Tolstoy, bringing with him N. Stráhof, -paid Fet an unexpected visit. The latter had at this time engaged -as governess a Mlle. Oberlender, an excellent pianist, and in his -_Recollections_ he tells us that on this visit: - - The Count, a sensitive esthete by nature, was greatly taken by the - piano playing of Mlle. Oberlender. He sat down to play duets with - her, and they played through almost the whole of Beethoven. - -Fet quotes Tolstoy's comment on the lady's performance: - - 'When we were young, such pianists travelled across Europe giving - concerts. She reads any piece of music as you read poetry, finding - just the suitable expression for each note.' - -Towards the end of July, Tolstoy, accompanied by N. Stráhof, visited -for the first time the Monastery of Óptin, which is situated in -the Kaloúga Government, and is about 135 miles to the west of -Yásnaya. A very prominent figure in the monastic world at that time -was the _Staretz_ Father Ambrose, with whom Tolstoy had some long -conversations. Among others whose acquaintance Tolstoy made there, -was a monk who had formerly been an officer in the Horse Guards. One -of the most important of the works Tolstoy left for publication after -his death, is a remarkable novel called _Father Sergius_, the hero of -which is a man of the world who becomes a monk, acquires a reputation -for sanctity, and then yields to temptation and ends as an outcast. -His visits to the Óptin Monastery, which were repeated three times, -supplied Tolstoy with material which many years later he utilised in -that work. - -At Óptin, Tolstoy had met his friend Prince Obolénsky, to whom on his -return journey he paid a visit at the latter's estate of Beryósino. -Here he renewed acquaintance with N. Rubinstein, who was staying with -Obolénsky, and whose pianoforte playing he enjoyed intensely. - -A visit which much interested Tolstoy was paid him about this time by -an itinerant story-teller, expert in folk-lore, wielding beautifully -the simple language of the people, such as Tolstoy loves and has -utilised in his stories. He took down in writing some of this -traveller's tales, and from them subsequently worked up into literary -form _What Men Live By_, _The Three Hermits_ (included in _Twenty-three -Tales_), and some others. The root idea of _What Men Live By_ is that -of an angel sent by God to do penance on earth for a well-intentioned -act of disobedience. It seems that it is one of the most widely -disseminated of the world's legends, appearing and reappearing in the -literature of many countries through many centuries. - -In the latter part of 1877 a number of Turkish prisoners of war were -located in an abandoned sugar-factory between Toúla and Yásnaya. -Tolstoy visited them there, and found that they were fairly well -treated. Being himself greatly concerned about religion, he naturally -talked to them on that subject, and was much impressed when he found -that each of them had a copy of the Koran in his kit. - -On 6th December another son, Andrew (Andréy), was born. - -All through this year, amid bustle and activity of various kinds, -spiritual problems continued to torment Tolstoy, and his physical -health began to show signs of the strain. Here is a note to Fet, dated -2nd September: - - Just now I am constantly out hunting and am busy arranging how to - place our educational staff for the winter. I have been to Moscow - looking for a teacher and a tutor. To-day I feel quite ill. - - -1878 - -Nor did matters improve as the months went on, for on 27th January he -again writes: - - Most unfortunately your suppositions, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch, - are wrong. Not only am I not at work, but the reason I failed to - answer you was because I have been ill all this time. Lately I have - even been in bed for some days. A chill in various forms: teeth and - side, and the result is that time goes by--my best time--and I do - no work. - -Then follows a touch showing how, in many matters, his wife's mind was -still attuned to his own, though she was not sharing his spiritual -struggles, and in the matter of the education of the children there was -already some disagreement between them: - - On reading it I said to my wife, 'Fet's poem is charming, but there - is one word that is wrong.' She was nursing and bustling about at - the time; but at tea, having quieted down, she took up the poem - to read, and at once pointed out the words 'as the Gods'--which I - considered bad. - -On 25th March 1878 he writes to Fet: - - Last week, after seventeen years' absence, I went to Petersburg to - purchase some land in Samára from General B.... - - There I met a pair of Orlóf Generals who made me shudder: it was - just as though one were standing between two sets of rails with - goods trains passing. To enter into the minds of these Generals, I - had to recall the rare days of drunkenness I have experienced, or - the days of my very earliest childhood. - -After completing _Anna Karénina_ Tolstoy again took up _The -Decembrists_, which he had put aside in favour of _War and Peace_ -fourteen years before. As already mentioned, a second cousin of -Tolstoy's mother, Prince S. G. Volkónsky, had been a prominent -Decembrist; and Tolstoy had at his disposal a number of family diaries -and journals throwing much light on the subject of that conspiracy. -While in Petersburg he made personal acquaintance with some of the -survivors of the movement, and also applied to the Commandant of the -Petropávlof Fortress--who happened to be an officer under whom he had -served in the Crimea--for permission to see the Alexis dungeons, in -which the Decembrists had been confined. The Commandant received him -very politely, allowed him to see over other parts of the fortress, -but told him that, though any one could enter the dungeons, only three -persons in the whole Empire--the Emperor, the Commandant, and the Chief -of the Gendarmes--having once entered them, could again leave them. - -Finally, after writing three fragments of it, Tolstoy abandoned this -novel, to which he had devoted much time. The subject was one he could -hardly have dealt with frankly without getting into trouble with the -Censor; and he had been refused permission to study the State Archives; -but in the following passage Behrs gives another, and a curiously -characteristic, reason for Tolstoy's decision: - - He affirmed that the Decembrist insurrection was a result of the - influence of French nobles, a large number of whom had emigrated - to Russia after the French Revolution. As tutors in aristocratic - families, they educated the whole Russian nobility, which explains - the fact that many of the Decembrists were Catholics. The belief - that the movement was due to foreign influence, and was not a - purely national one, sufficed to prevent Tolstoy from sympathising - with it. - -Another letter to Fet again shows the direction in which Tolstoy's mind -was working: - - _6 April 1878._ - - I have received your delightful and long letter, dear Afanásy - Afanásyevitch. Do not praise me. Really you see in me too much - good, and in others too much bad. One thing in me is good: that - I understand you and therefore love you. But though I love you - as you are, I am always angry with you for this, that 'Martha is - anxious about many things; but one thing is needful.' And in you - that one thing is very strong, but somehow you disdain it and are - more concerned about arranging a billiard room. Don't suppose - that I refer to poems: though I expect them to come too! But it - is not of them I speak; they will come in spite of the billiards; - I am speaking of a conception of the world which would make it - unnecessary to be angry at the stupidity of mortals. Were you and - I to be pounded together in a mortar and moulded into two people, - we should make a capital pair. But at present you are so attached - to the things of this life, that should they some day fail you, it - will go hard with you; while I am so indifferent to them, that life - becomes uninteresting, and I depress others by an eternal pouring - 'from void into vacuum'! Do not suppose that I have gone mad; I am - merely out of sorts, but hope you will love me though I be black. - -The prolonged mental struggle through which Tolstoy passed with great -suffering during the years 1874-78, was quite evident to those about -him, at least from 1876 onward. Not merely did he go regularly to -church, and shut himself up in his study morning and evening to pray, -but his former high spirits subsided, and his desire to become meek and -humble was plainly noticeable. One result of his altered attitude was, -that he felt keenly that it was wrong to have an enemy. Accordingly he -wrote Tourgénef to that effect, and held out to him the right hand of -friendship. - -To this Tourgénef replied: - - PARIS, _8 May 1878_. - - DEAR LEO NIKOLÁYEVITCH,--I only to-day received your letter, - addressed _poste-restante_. It gladdened and touched me very much. - With the greatest readiness will I renew our former friendship, and - I warmly press the hand you hold out to me. You are quite right in - supposing me to have no hostile feelings towards you. If ever they - existed they have long since disappeared, and the recollection of - you only remains as of a man to whom I am sincerely attached, and - of a writer whose first steps it was my good fortune to be the - first to hail, and each new work from whom has always aroused in me - the liveliest interest. I am heartily glad of the cessation of the - misunderstandings that arose between us. - - I hope this summer to be in the Government of Orlóf, and in that - case we shall of course see one another. Till then, I wish you all - that is good, and once more press your hand in friendship. - -On 13th June, on the point of starting for Samára with the elder -children and their tutor, Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - I have seldom so enjoyed a summer as this year, but a week ago I - caught cold and fell ill, and only to-day have I come to life again. - -Somewhat later in the summer the Countess, with the younger children, -joined her husband in Samára. - -Hardly were the Tolstoys back from Samára before Tourgénef wrote from -Moscow that he would be in Toúla on the following Monday, 7th August. -Tolstoy, accompanied by his brother-in-law, drove thither to meet him, -and brought him to Yásnaya, where he passed a couple of days. Both -writers were delighted to feel that their seventeen-year disagreement -was ended; and the Countess, who when a girl had known Tourgénef well, -was equally pleased to welcome him to the house. - -A lady who was there at the time, tells us that the two writers spent -much of their time in philosophic and religious conversation in -Tolstoy's study, but: - - When they came out into the sitting-room their conversation became - general and took a different turn. Tourgénef told with pleasure - of the villa Bougival which he had just bought near Paris, and of - its comfort and arrangements, saying, 'We have built a charming - conservatory, costing ten thousand francs,' and 'we' did so-and-so - and so-and-so, meaning by 'we,' the Viardot family and himself. - - 'Of an evening we often play _vint_ [a game similar to bridge]--do - you?' he asked Tolstoy. - - 'No, we never play cards,' replied the Count, and turned the - conversation to another topic. - - Knowing that he was fond of chess, the Countess Tolstoy asked him - to play a game with her eldest son, a lad of fifteen, saying, 'He - will all his life remember having played with Tourgénef.' - - Tourgénef condescendingly agreed, and began a game, while - continuing to talk to us. - - 'In Paris I often used to play chess and was considered a good - player. They called me _le chevalier de pion_. I am fond of - pawns.... Do you know the new phrase now in fashion among the - French--_vieux jeu_? Whatever you say, a Frenchman replies, "_Vieux - jeu!_"' - - 'Eh! but one must not joke with you,' he exclaimed suddenly, - turning to his youthful opponent. 'You have all but done for me.' - - And he began to play carefully, and only won the game with - difficulty, for young Tolstoy really played chess excellently. - - At evening tea Tourgénef told how he had played the part of a - satyr at M^{me} Viardot's private theatricals, and how some of - the audience had gazed at him with amazement. We knew that he - had himself written the piece (a sort of operetta) for those - theatricals, and knew also that Russians, both abroad and at home, - disapproved of his playing the fool for M^{me} Viardot's amusement; - and we all felt uncomfortable. In telling it he seemed to be trying - to justify himself, but he soon passed on to another theme, and we - breathed more freely. - - He had the gift of words and spoke readily and smoothly, but seemed - to prefer narrating to conversing. He told us of his confinement in - the Hauptwerk of the Spássky Police-station in Petersburg, for his - article on the death of Gógol, and he described how dull it was.... - - Tolstoy also narrated, and I liked his stories better: they were - more strongly sketched, often humorous, and always original. In - them much was simple, unexpected and touching.... I. S. Aksákof - used to say, with reference to Tolstoy's gigantic power, that he - had 'a bear-like talent,' but I will add that his soul is as meek - 'as a dove,' and as enthusiastic as a youth; and that the union of - those two qualities explains the new direction he has since taken, - a direction which so distressed Tourgénef. - - An hour before midnight Tourgénef rose. - - 'It is time for me to go to the station,' said he. - - We all rose. The railway station was one-and-a-half miles away, and - Count Leo Nikoláyevitch drove with him, to see him off. - -Behrs also writes of the same visit: - - At dinner Tourgénef told many stories, and to the delight of the - younger folk mimicked not only persons, but animals also. Thus, - placing one hand under the other, he depicted a fowl waddling in - the soup, and then imitated a hunting dog at a loss. As I listened - to him and watched his tricks I couldn't help thinking that he - evidently inherited something of the talent for which one of his - ancestors under Peter the Great enjoyed no little fame. - -This was the last summer Behrs, now a young man of twenty-three, passed -with Tolstoy before taking up official work in the Caucasus. His -evidence fully supports that of others who have seen Tolstoy in contact -with children, peasants or native races: to all of these Tolstoy -extends his charm of comprehension, consideration, and sympathy. - -Whenever Tolstoy went out with his gun and his dogs, Behrs used to -accompany him; and together they would ride twenty-four miles from -Yásnaya to visit Count Sergius Tolstoy at Pirogóvo. Leo Tolstoy took -his brother-in-law on these visits, Behrs says, 'for my sake, if not -for his own, since he knew what pleasure it gave me to be with him.' -The remark he made when he heard that Behrs had obtained an official -appointment in the Caucasus is characteristic: 'You are too late -for the Caucasus. The whole country already stinks of officials.' -Characteristic too of the feeling Tolstoy inspires among those who know -him most intimately, is Behrs's concluding remark: 'I at least am aware -of nothing in his life that needs to be concealed.' - -At the beginning of September Tourgénef, on his return from his estate, -again visited Yásnaya, but he arrived at an unfortunate time, when -there was illness in the house, and he paid but a short visit. - -One sees by a letter to Fet on 5th September that Tolstoy still found -himself unable to be quite intimate with his fellow novelist: - - Tourgénef on his return journey came to see us and was glad to - receive your letter. He is still the same, and we know the degree - of nearness possible between us. - - I have a terrible desire to write something, but feel a depressing - doubt whether this is a false or a true appetite. - -The last sentence must refer to the _Confession_, most of which was not -written till the next year. - -In October he again wrote to Fet: - - I do not know how or in what spirit to begin to write to you, dear - Afanásy Afanásyevitch; any way, there are no words for it but, - 'I am to blame, I am to blame, and I am altogether to blame!' - Though it is always superfluous for apologisers to explain their - reasons, I will yet write mine because they are true and explain - my condition. For a month past, if not more, I have been living - amid the fumes not of external occurrences (on the contrary we - are by ourselves, living quietly) but of what is going on inside: - something I know not how to name. I go out shooting, read, reply to - questions put to me, eat, and sleep, but can do nothing, not even - write a letter, a score of which have collected. - -Apparently while in bad spirits, he wrote to Tourgénef asking him not -to refer to his (Tolstoy's) writings--for the latter replies on 15th -October, saying: 'I am glad you are all physically well, and hope the -"mental sickness" of which you write has now passed.' He then continues: - - Although you ask me not to speak of your writings, I must still - remark that it has never happened to me to laugh at you 'even a - little.' Some of your things pleased me very much; others did - not please me at all; while others again, such as _The Cossacks_ - for instance, afforded me great pleasure and excited my wonder. - But what ground was there for laughter? I thought you had long - since got rid of such 'reflexive' feelings. Why are they current - only among authors, and not among musicians, painters, and other - artists? Probably because in literary work more of that part of the - soul is exposed, which it is not quite convenient to show. But at - our (already mature) age as authors, it is time we were accustomed - to it. - -This displeased Tolstoy, who in his next letter to Fet expressed his -vexation with Tourgénef who, I imagine, had not intended to give -offence: - - _22 November 1878._ - - DEAR AFANÁSY AFANÁSYEVITCH,--I will go to Moscow and have 'I am to - blame' printed on my notepaper. But I don't think I am to blame for - not replying to the letter in which you promised to come and see - us. I remember my joy at that news, and that I replied immediately. - If not, still please don't punish me, but come.... - - Yesterday I received a letter from Tourgénef; and do you know, I - have decided that it will be better to 'keep further away from him - and from sin' [A common Russian saying]. He is an unpleasant sort - of quarrel-maker. - - My congratulations to you on your birthday. I will not in future - omit to congratulate you on the 23rd, and hope not to forget it for - the next dozen times. That will be enough for either of us. _Au - revoir!_ - -Fet was destined to live four years beyond the span Tolstoy allotted -him, and Tolstoy himself is still with us, though more than thirty -years have passed since that letter was written; and what strenuous -years they have been! How he has wrestled with life's greatest -problems one after another, and how he has flung down before the world -his opinions (right, wrong, or motley) on dogmatic theology, Christ's -Christianity, religion in general, economic and social problems, -famine, the employment of violence, war, conscription, Government, -patriotism, the sex problem, art, science, food-reform and the use -of stimulants and narcotics, besides producing a series of simple -stories for the people, as well as more complex ones for the rest of -society, three plays, one great novel, and a stream of weighty and -interesting essays and letters which have poured forth from Yásnaya in -an increasing stream as the years went by; not to mention works kept -back for posthumous publication, at the mention of which the literary -world pricks up its ears! - -On 1st October 1878 Tourgénef wrote to Fet from Bougival, again saying -that he intended to translate _The Cossacks_ into French, and adding, -'It will give me great pleasure to assist in acquainting the French -public with the best story that has been written in our language.' - -In another letter from Bougival in December, he remarked: - - I was very glad to come together with Tolstoy, and I spent three - pleasant days with him; his whole family are very sympathetic, and - his wife is charming. He has grown very quiet and has matured. His - name begins to gain European celebrity: we Russians have long known - that he has no rivals. - -The course of the story has swept me a little past Tolstoy's fiftieth -birthday--the point at which I intended to close this first part of -my work. Besides giving some brief survey of his writings during his -first twenty-five years of authorship, all that now remains is to give -a summary of that remarkable work, his _Confession_, which shows us -vividly, though with some amount of involuntary artistic heightening, -what had been going on in his mind and soul from 1874 to 1879, the year -in which it was written. - -By way of brief preface to his _Confession_, it will be in place to -say a few words about two different tendencies which, each in its own -way, influenced Tolstoy. On the one hand there was the religious life -of the people, with all its Medieval traditions. Tolstoy had only to go -a short walk from his house to reach the highroad, on which pilgrims -going afoot to the shrines of the Saints could always be met; and he -had many a conversation with these pilgrims at the rest-house they -frequented. Among them there were many to whom the things of this world -were certainly less precious than obedience to the will of God as they -understood it; and Tolstoy's stories show us how closely he observed -these people, and how near some of them came to his soul. On the other -hand he was influenced by the quite modern and very remarkable movement -that was at this time beginning to make itself felt in Russia; a -movement having its roots in conditions of life which greatly disturbed -Tolstoy's own mind, and which took as one of its watchwords the motto -'Towards the People'--a sentiment quite in harmony with his own -attitude. - -In 1875 public attention was aroused by the trial of the Dolgoúshin -group of propagandists; and the trial of 'The Moscow 50,' in March -1877, revealed the fact that a number of girls of wealthy families were -voluntarily leading the life of factory hands working fourteen hours -a day in over-crowded factories, that they might come into touch with -working people, to teach them, and to carry on a social and political -propaganda among them. Then followed the historic trial of 'The 193' in -1878. - -These and many other indications showed that in spite of the repressive -measures of the Government, a steadily increasing number of Russians -felt (what Tolstoy also felt strongly) that the existing order of -society results in the mass of the people having to live in conditions -of blighting ignorance and grinding poverty; while the parasitic -minority who live in plenty and sometimes in extravagant superfluity, -render no service at all equivalent to the cost of their maintenance. -The mere statement that those who had received an education thanks to -the work of the masses, owe service to the masses in return, sufficed -to rouse to action some of the young men and women of that day. They -left their wealthy homes, lived the simplest lives, ran fearful risks, -and according to their lights--sometimes not very clear ones--devoted -themselves to the service of the people. - -While this was going on around him, a man with such a temperament as -Tolstoy's, could not be at rest. - -Already in 1875 Mihaylóvsky had published a remarkable series of -articles on _The Right and Left Hand of Count Tolstoy_, in which he -pointed out that that author's works reveal the clash of contrary -ideals and tendencies in the writer's soul, and that especially his -educational articles contain ideas quite in conflict with certain -tendencies noticeable in _War and Peace_. With remarkable prevision -Mihaylóvsky predicted an inevitable crisis in Tolstoy's life, and added: - - One asks oneself what such a man is to do, and how he is to - live?... I think an ordinary man in such a position would end by - suicide or drunkenness; but a man of worth will seek for other - issues--and of these there are several. - -One of these he suggested would be, to write for the people (Tolstoy's -_Readers_ had already been published) or to write so as to remind -'Society' that its pleasures and amusements are not those of the mass -of mankind, and thus to arouse the latent feelings of justice in some -who now forget the debt they owe to their fellows. - -In fact, the trial of 'The 193' or the movement from which it arose, -had a vital, though indirect, influence on Tolstoy, who at this time -had engaged V. I. Alexéyef, a graduate of Petersburg University, -as mathematical master for his son. Alexéyef had been a member of -the Tchaykóvsky group which carried on an educational propaganda in -elementary Socialism in the early '70's. The activities of this group -were so restricted, and they were so hampered by the police, that some -of its members, feeling a need of freer activity, migrated to Kansas, -where for two years they carried on an agricultural colony. Dissensions -arose among them, and their experiment failed. Alexéyef returned to -Russia; Tchaykóvsky settled in England, where he spent many years, and -only returned to Russia after the amnesty of 1905, to be again arrested -and to spend more than a year in prison awaiting a trial which ended in -his acquittal. Tolstoy noticed that Alexéyef was a man who shaped his -life in accord with his beliefs, and he respected him accordingly, and -through him made acquaintance with some of the best representatives of -the immature Socialist movement then brewing in Russia. We have here a -remarkable example of the indirect way in which thoughts influence the -world. Auguste Comte wrote a philosophy. Having filtered through the -minds of G. H. Lewes and J. S. Mill, it reached Nicholas Tchaykóvsky -when he was a schoolboy of fourteen in the Seventh Gymnasium in -Petersburg. 'It fascinated me to such an extent,' says he in the -reminiscences contributed to G. H. Perris's interesting book, _Russia -in Revolution_, 'that, while sitting in school, I longed to get back to -our lodgings and to my chosen reading. The more I progressed, the more -I was absorbed. This study powerfully affected my mind and systematised -my ideas.' A few years later Tchaykóvsky, having read much meanwhile, -formed his group, which sowed the seeds of changes yet to come. -Progress, however, was very slow, and he felt 'the ineffectiveness of -ordinary political and socialistic propaganda among a deeply religious -peasantry, still hopeful of benefits from above.' This forced him to -reconsider the whole situation. 'I met,' adds he, 'some friends with -whom I began to work upon the rather Utopian idea of formulating a new -religion, and, for the sake of more effective experiment, we were soon -compelled to transfer ourselves with this stupendous mission, to the -steppes of Kansas.' - -Wishing to transform society, Tchaykóvsky had seen the need of some -systematic outlook on life--'a new religion,' in fact. Dissatisfied -with his own outlook on life, Tolstoy was seeking a new religion, and -when he found it, it led him to demand great changes in society. The -mature novelist and the young propagandist, who have never met in the -flesh, had therefore much in common; though Tolstoy dislikes the works -of Comte and Mill, which had done so much for Tchaykóvsky, and can -hardly speak of them with tolerance (except Mill's _Autobiography_, -which interests him). Detesting the methods of violence to which those -who succeeded Tchaykóvsky felt themselves driven, Tolstoy could still -not doubt the sincerity of the faith that actuated most of them; for -they had all to lose and nothing to gain by joining the revolutionary -movement. Sophie Peróvsky, one of 'the 193' (subsequently hanged in -Petersburg for taking part in the assassination of Alexander II), was -the daughter of the Governor-General of that city, and was a niece of -the Minister of Education. Demetrius Lisogoúb, a landowner, devoted -his whole fortune of some Ł40,000 to the movement; and was hanged -in Odessa. Prince Peter Kropótkin risked his all to give lessons to -workmen; and escaped abroad, having lost position, fortune, and the -right to live in his native land. Tolstoy, an older man, with a strong -character and definite views of his own on many points, could not join -the Socialist movement, but that he was influenced by it is beyond -doubt. - -The state of Russian life was indeed such that men of sensitive -consciences could not be at rest (as, indeed, when and where in the -wide world can they?), and the work Tolstoy had already done, marked -him out as one in whose soul the struggle which was moving others, -would assuredly be fought out strenuously. No one however, and -certainly not he himself, as yet knew what effect that crisis would -have upon him, or what his course of life would be in the years that -were to come. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER X - -Besides books mentioned in last chapter, information relating to this -period is contained in a number of magazines and newspaper articles, of -which the following are the most important. - -On the Education dispute see: - -_Moskov. Eparhial. Ved._, October 1874. - -_Rousskiya Vedomosti_, 1894, No. 31. - -N. K. Mihaylovsky's _Zapiski Profana_, and E. Schuyler in _Rousskaya -Starina_, October 1870, and in _Scribner's Magazine_, May and June, -1889. - -About Samara Famine, etc., see: A. S. Prougavin in _Obrazovaniye_, Nov. -1902. - -On Tourgenef's visit to Yasnaya see: _Tobolskiya Goubern. Vedomosti_, -1893, No. 26. - -The _Rousskoye Obozreniye_, 1896, contains a letter from Tolstoy to Fet. - -The _Vestnik Evropy_, June 1904, contains M. Zaharina's _Vospominaniya -gr. A. A. Tolstaya_. - -_Zhisn P. I. Tschaikovskavo._ - -_Pervoe Sobranie pisem Tourgeneva, 1840-1883_; Petersburg, 1884. - -P. A. Sergeyenko in _Niva_, No. 8, 1906. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - CONFESSION - -What is the meaning of life? Thoughts of suicide. The traveller in the -well. Schopenhauer and Solomon. Four ways of meeting the problem. The -peasants' answer. The finite linked to the infinite. Faith essential. -Faiths that obscure. Why life seemed meaningless. The search for God. -The infallibility of the Church. Rites and prayers. Communion. The -lives of the Saints. The Orthodox and the Sectarians. War. The need to -unravel truth from error. - - -THIS chapter is a summary of Tolstoy's _Confession_,[54] or -'Introduction to a Criticism of Dogmatic Theology and to an -Investigation of the Christian Teachings,' as the Russian title ran, -from the first pages of which I have already quoted freely in the -preceding chapters. I have kept as much to Tolstoy's words as possible, -but having to condense, I have not only omitted much, but have also -paraphrased some passages to avoid repetition. The plan I have -adopted, since this is a _Life_ and not a theological treatise, has -been to cut down to a mere skeleton the abstract argument of Tolstoy's -_Confession_, while giving almost in full what he says about his own -experience. - - [54] It is strange that Tolstoy's _Confession_ has not - yet been put into English at all reproducing the vigorous - simplicity of the original. There is, I think, nothing better - than the threepenny edition issued by the _Free Age Press_ - under the title, _How I Came to Believe_; and on looking at - that to see if I could quote from it, I find that it is not - good enough. - -Many men, at the age of puberty, or at any rate while their minds were -still maturing, have experienced the change known as 'Conversion.' That -is to say, they have more or less suddenly turned round and looked at -life from a fresh point of view: what in their nature had been latent -or secondary has become dominant and primary, and things temporal and -material have become subordinate to things spiritual and eternal. - -What is unusual about the story of Tolstoy's conversion is that it came -so late in life and so gradually, and that the intellect played so -large a part in it. - -Some men take to religion at the prompting of the heart, others at the -prompting of the brain; and Tolstoy belongs to the latter category, -not from lack of heart, but because strong as are his emotions, his -intellectual power is stronger still. - -His _Confession_ was written in 1879, and in it he says: - -Five years ago something very strange began to happen to me: At first -I experienced moments of perplexity and arrest of life, as though I -did not know how to live or what to do; and I felt lost and became -dejected. But this passed, and I went on living as before. Then these -moments of perplexity began to recur oftener and oftener, and always in -the same form. They were always expressed by the questions: What's it -for? What does it lead to? - -At first it seemed to me that these were aimless and irrelevant -questions. I thought that it was all well known, and that if I should -ever wish to deal with the solution, it would not cost me much effort; -just at present I had no time for it, but when I wanted to I should -be able to find the answer. The questions, however, began to repeat -themselves frequently, and more and more insistently to demand replies; -and like drops of ink always falling on one place, they ran together -into one black blot. - -That occurred which happens to every one sickening with a mortal -internal disease. At first trivial signs of indisposition appear, to -which the sick man pays no attention; then these signs reappear more -and more often, and merge into one uninterrupted period of suffering. -The suffering increases, and before the sick man can look round, what -he took for a mere indisposition has already become more important to -him than anything else in the world--it is death! - -That was what happened to me. I understood that it was no casual -indisposition, but something very important, and that if these -questions constantly repeated themselves, it would be necessary to -answer them. And I tried to do so. The questions seemed such stupid -simple childish questions; but as soon as I touched them and tried to -solve them, I at once became convinced (1) that they are not childish -and stupid, but the most important and the deepest of life's questions; -and (2) that, try as I would, I could not solve them. Before occupying -myself with my Samára estate, the education of my son, or the writing -of a book, I had to know _why_ I was doing it. As long as I did not -know why, I could do nothing, and could not live. Amid the thoughts of -estate management which greatly occupied me at that time, the question -would suddenly occur to me: 'Well, you will have 16,000 acres of land -in Samára Government and 300 horses, and what next?'... And I was quite -disconcerted, and did not know what to think. Or, when considering -my plans for the education of my children, I would say to myself: -What for? Or when considering how the peasants might be prosperous, I -suddenly said to myself, 'But what business is it of mine?' Or when -thinking of the fame my works would bring me, I said to myself, 'Very -well: you will be more famous than Gógol or Poúshkin or Shakespear or -Moličre, or than all the writers in the world--and what will it lead -to?' And I could find no reply at all. The questions would not wait, -they had to be answered at once, and if I did not answer them, it was -impossible to live. But there was no answer. - -I felt that what I had been standing on had broken down, and that I had -nothing left under my feet. What I had lived on, no longer existed; and -I had nothing left to live on. - -My life came to a standstill. I could breathe, eat, drink and sleep, -and I could not help doing these things; but there was no life, -for there were no wishes the fulfilment of which I could consider -reasonable.... Had a fairy come and offered to fulfil my desires, I -should not have known what to ask.... If in moments of intoxication I -felt something which I cannot call a wish, but a habit left by former -wishes, in sober moments I knew this to be a delusion, and that there -is really nothing to wish for. I could not even wish to know the -truth, for I guessed in what it consisted. The truth was that life is -meaningless. I had, as it were, lived, lived, and walked, walked, till -I had come to a precipice and saw clearly that there was nothing ahead -of me but destruction. It was impossible to stop, impossible to go -back, and impossible to close my eyes or avoid seeing that there was -nothing ahead but suffering and real death--complete annihilation. - -It had come to this, that I, a healthy, fortunate man, felt I could no -longer live: some irresistible power impelled me to rid myself one way -or other of life. I cannot say I _wished_ to kill myself. The power -which drew me away from life was stronger, fuller, and more widespread -than any mere wish. - -The thought of self-destruction now came to me as naturally as thoughts -of how to improve my life had come formerly. And it was so seductive -that I had to be wily with myself, lest I should carry it out too -hastily: 'If I cannot unravel matters, there will always be time.' -And it was then that I, a man favoured by fortune, hid a cord from -myself, lest I should hang myself from the crosspiece of the partition -in my room, where I undressed alone every evening; and I ceased to go -out shooting with a gun, lest I should be tempted by so easy a way of -ending my life. I did not myself know what I wanted: I feared life, -desired to escape from it; yet still hoped something of it. - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY'S LIBRARY. - -(FORMERLY HIS STUDY AND DRESSING-ROOM.) SHOWING THE WOODEN CROSS-PIECE -FROM WHICH HE WISHED TO HANG HIMSELF.] - -And all this befell me at a time when all around me I had what is -considered complete good fortune. I was not yet fifty; I had a good -wife who loved me and whom I loved; good children, and a large estate -which without much effort on my part improved and increased. I was -respected by my relations and acquaintances more than at any previous -time. I was praised by others, and without much self-deception could -consider that my name was famous. And far from being insane or -mentally unwell,--on the contrary I enjoyed a strength of mind and body -such as I have seldom met with among men of my kind: physically I could -keep up with the peasants at mowing, and mentally I could work for -eight to ten hours at a stretch without experiencing any ill results -from such exertion.... - -My mental condition presented itself to me in this way: my life -is a stupid and spiteful joke some one has played on me. Though I -did not acknowledge a 'some one' who created me, yet that form of -representation--that some one had played an evil and stupid joke on me -by placing me in the world--was the form of expression that suggested -itself most naturally to me. - -Involuntarily it appeared to me that there, somewhere, is some one -who amuses himself by watching how I live for thirty or forty years: -learning, developing, maturing in body and mind, and how--having now -with matured mental powers reached the summit of life, from which it -all lies before me, I stand on that summit--like an arch-fool--seeing -clearly that there is nothing in life, and that there has been and will -be nothing. And he is amused.... - -But whether that 'some one' laughing at me existed or not, I was none -the better off. I could give no reasonable meaning to any single -action, or to my whole life. I was only surprised that I could have -avoided understanding this from the very beginning--it has been so long -known to all. To-day or to-morrow sickness and death will come (they -have come already) to those I love or to me; nothing will remain but -stench and worms. Sooner or later my deeds, whatever they may have -been, will be forgotten, and I shall not exist. Then why go on making -any effort?... How can man fail to see this? And how go on living? -That is what is surprising! One can only live when one is intoxicated -with life; as soon as one is sober it is impossible not to see that it -is all a mere fraud and a stupid fraud! That is precisely what it is: -there is nothing either amusing or witty about it; it is simply cruel -and stupid. - -There is an Eastern fable, told long ago, of a traveller overtaken on -a plain by an enraged beast. Escaping from the beast he leaps into a -dry well, but sees at the bottom of the well a dragon that has opened -its jaws to swallow him. And the unfortunate man, not daring to climb -out lest he should be destroyed by the enraged beast, and not daring to -leap to the bottom of the well lest he should be eaten by the dragon, -seizes a twig growing in a crack in the well and clings to it. His -hands are growing weaker, and he feels he will soon have to resign -himself to the destruction that awaits him above or below; but still -he clings on; and he sees that two mice, a black and a white one, go -regularly round and round the stem of the twig to which he is clinging, -and gnaw at it. And soon the twig itself will snap and he will fall -into the dragon's jaws. The traveller sees this and knows that he will -inevitably perish; but while still hanging he looks around and finds -some drops of honey on the leaves of the twig and reaches them with his -tongue and licks them. So I too clung to the twig of life, knowing that -the dragon of death was inevitably awaiting me, ready to tear me to -pieces; and I could not understand why I had fallen into such torment. -I tried to lick the honey which formerly consoled me; but the honey no -longer gave me pleasure, and the white and black mice of day and night -gnawed at the branch by which I hung. I saw the dragon clearly, and the -honey no longer tasted sweet. And this is not a fable, but the real -unanswerable truth intelligible to all. - -The deception of the joys of life which formerly allayed my terror of -the dragon, now no longer deceives me. No matter how much I may be -told: 'You cannot understand the meaning of life, so do not think about -it, but live,' I can no longer do it: I have already done it too long. -I cannot now help seeing day and night going round and bringing me to -death. That is all I see, for that alone is true. All else is false. - -The two drops of honey which diverted my eyes from the cruel truth -longer than the rest: my love of family, and of writing--art as I -called it--were no longer sweet to me. - -Family ... said I to myself. But my family: wife and children--are also -human. They too are placed as I am: they must either live in a lie, or -see the terrible truth. Why should they live? Why should I love them, -guard them, bring them up, or watch them? That they may come to the -despair that I feel, or else be stupid? Loving them, I cannot hide the -truth from them: each step in knowledge leads them to that truth. And -the truth is death. - -'Art, poetry?'... Under the influence of success and the praise of men, -I had long assured myself that this was a thing one could do though -death was drawing near--death which destroys all things, including my -work and its remembrance; but I soon saw that that too was a fraud. -It was plain to me that art is an adornment to life, an allurement to -life. But life had lost its attraction for me; so how could I attract -others? As long as I was not living my own life, but was borne on -the waves of some other life--as long as I believed that life had a -meaning, though one I could not express--the reflection of life in -poetry and art of all kinds, afforded me pleasure: it was pleasant to -look at life in the mirror of art. But when I began to seek the meaning -of life, and felt the necessity of living on my own account, that -mirror became for me unnecessary, superfluous, ridiculous, or painful. -I could no longer soothe myself with what I saw in the mirror, for what -I saw was, that my position was stupid and desperate. It was all very -well to enjoy the sight when in the depth of my soul I believed that my -life had a meaning. Then the play of lights--comic, tragic, touching, -beautiful and terrible--in life, amused me. But when I knew life to be -meaningless and terrible, the play in the mirror could no longer amuse -me. No sweetness of honey could be sweet to me when I saw the dragon, -and saw the mice gnawing away my support. - -Nor was that all. Had I simply understood that life has no meaning, I -could have borne it quietly, knowing that that was my lot. But I could -not satisfy myself with that. Had I been like a man living in a wood -from which he knows there is no exit, I could have lived; but I was -like one lost in a wood who, horrified at having lost his way, rushes -about, wishing to find the road, yet knows that each step he takes -confuses him more and more; and still cannot help rushing about. - -It was indeed terrible. And to rid myself of the terror, I wished to -kill myself. I experienced terror at what awaited me--knew that that -terror was even worse than the position I was in; but still I could not -patiently await the end. However convincing the argument might be that, -in any case, some vessel in my heart would give way, or something would -burst and all would be over, I could not patiently await that end. The -horror of darkness was too great, and I wished to free myself from it -as quickly as possible by noose or bullet. That was the feeling which -drew me most strongly towards suicide. - - * * * * * - -'But perhaps I have overlooked something, or misunderstood something? -It cannot be that this condition of despair is natural to man!' thought -I, and as a perishing man seeks safety, I sought some way of escape. - -I sought everywhere; and thanks to a life spent in learning, and thanks -also to the relations I had with the scholarly world, I had access -to scientists and scholars in all branches of knowledge, and they -readily showed me all their knowledge, not only in books, but also in -conversation, so that I had at my disposal all that knowledge has to -say on this question of life.... - -The question which at the age of fifty brought me to the verge of -suicide, was the simplest of questions lying in the soul of every man, -from the foolish child to the wisest elder: it was a question without -answering which one cannot live, as I had found by experience. It was, -What will come of what I am doing to-day or shall do to-morrow--What -will come of my whole life? - -Differently expressed, the question is: Why should I live, why wish -for anything, or do anything? It can also be expressed thus: Is there -any meaning in life, that the inevitable death awaiting one, does not -destroy? All human knowledge I found divided into two kinds. One kind, -such as chemistry and mathematics and the exact sciences, did not deal -with my question. They were interesting, attractive, and wonderfully -definite, but made no attempt to solve the question; while on the other -hand the speculative sciences, culminating in metaphysics, dealt with -the question, but supplied no satisfactory answer. - -Where philosophy does not lose sight of the essential question, its -answer is always one and the same: an answer given by Socrates, -Schopenhauer, Solomon and Buddha. - -'We approach truth only inasmuch as we depart from life,' said Socrates -when preparing for death. 'For what do we who love truth, strive after -in life? To free ourselves from the body, and from all the evil that is -caused by the body! If so, then how can we fail to be glad when death -comes to us?' - -'The wise man seeks death all his life, and therefore does not fear -death.' - -And Schopenhauer also says that life is an evil; and Solomon (or -whoever wrote the works attributed to him) says: - -'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. What profit hath man of all his -labour under the sun?... There is no remembrance of former things, -neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come, with -those that shall come after.... - -'Therefore I hated life, because the work that is wrought under the sun -is grievous to me; for all is vanity and vexation of spirit.' - -And Sakya Muni when he learnt what age and sickness and death are, -could find no consolation in life, and decided that life is the -greatest of evils; and he devoted all the strength of his soul to free -himself from it, and to free others; and to do this so that even after -death life shall not be renewed any more, but be completely destroyed -at its very roots. So speaks all the wisdom of India. - -These then are the direct replies that human wisdom gives, when it -replies to the question of life: - -'The life of the body is an evil and a lie. Therefore the destruction -of the life of the body is a blessing, and we should desire it,' says -Socrates. - -'Life is that which should not be--an evil; and the passage into -Nothingness is the only good in life,' says Schopenhauer. - -'All that is in the world: folly and wisdom and riches and poverty and -mirth and grief--are vanity and emptiness. Man dies and nothing is left -of him. And that is stupid,' says Solomon. - -'To live in the consciousness of the inevitability of suffering, of -becoming enfeebled, of old age and of death, is impossible--we must -free ourselves from life, from all possible life,' says Buddha. - -And what these strong minds said, has been said and thought and felt by -millions upon millions of people like them. And I have thought it and -felt it. - -One cannot deceive oneself. It is all--vanity! Happy is he who has not -been born: death is better than life, and one must free oneself from -life. - -Then I began to consider the lives of the men of my own kind; and I -found that they met the problem in one or other of four ways. - -The first way was that of ignorance. Some people--mostly women, or very -young or very dull people--have not yet understood the question of -life; but I, having understood it, could not again shut my eyes. - -The second way was that of the Epicureans, expressed by Solomon when he -said: 'Then I commended mirth, because a man hath no better thing under -the sun, than to eat, and to drink, and to be merry.' - -That is the way in which the majority of people of our circle make -life possible for themselves. Their circumstances furnish them with -more of welfare than of hardship, and their moral dullness makes it -possible for them to forget that the advantage of their position is -an accidental advantage, and that not every one can have a thousand -wives and a thousand palaces like Solomon, and that for every man with -a thousand wives there are a thousand without wives, and that for each -palace there are a thousand people who have to build it in the sweat of -their brows; and that the accident that has to-day made me a Solomon, -may to-morrow make me Solomon's slave. The dullness of these people's -imaginations enables them to forget what gave no peace to Buddha--the -inevitability of sickness, age and death, which to-day or to-morrow -will destroy all these pleasures. I could not imitate these people: I -had not their dullness of imagination, and I could not artificially -produce it in myself. - -The third escape is that of strength and energy. It consists in -understanding that life is an evil and an absurdity, and in destroying -it. It is a way adopted by a few exceptionally strong and consistent -people. I saw that it was the worthiest way of escape, and I wished to -adopt it. - -The fourth escape is that of weakness. It consists in seeing the truth -of the situation, and yet clinging to life as though one still hoped -something from it; and I found myself in that category. - -To live like Solomon and Schopenhauer, knowing that life is a stupid -joke played upon us, and still to go on living: washing oneself, -dressing, dining, talking and even writing books, was to me repulsive -and tormenting, but I remained in that position. - -I now see that if I did not kill myself, it was due to some dim -consciousness of the invalidity of my thoughts. And I began to feel, -rather than argue, in this way: 'I, my reason, has acknowledged life -to be unreasonable. If there be no higher reason (and there is not: -nothing can prove that there is) then reason is the creator of life -for me. If reason did not exist, there would be for me no life. How -can reason deny life, when it is the creator of life? Or to put it the -other way: were there no life, my reason would not exist; therefore -reason is life's son. Life is all. Reason is its fruit, yet reason -denies life itself!' I felt that there was something wrong here. - -Nothing prevents our denying life by suicide. Well then, kill yourself, -and cease discussing. If life displeases you, kill yourself! You live, -and cannot understand the meaning of life--then finish it; and do not -fool about in life, saying and writing that you do not understand it. -You have come into good company, where people are contented and like -what they are doing: if you find it dull and repulsive--go away! - -Indeed, what are we who are convinced of the necessity of suicide yet -do not decide to commit it, but the weakest, most inconsistent, and -to put it plainly, the stupidest of men, fussing about with our own -stupidity as a fool fusses about with a painted hussy? - -'There is something wrong,' said I to myself; but what was wrong, I -could in no way make out. It was long before the fog began to clear, -and I began to be able to restate my position. - -It had seemed to me that the narrow circle of rich learned and leisured -people to whom I belonged, formed the whole of humanity, and that the -milliards of others who have lived and are living, were cattle of some -sort--not real people.... And it was long before it dawned upon me to -ask: 'But what meaning is, and has been, given to their lives by all -the milliards of common folk who live and have lived in the world?' - -I long lived in this state of lunacy, which in fact if not in words -is particularly characteristic of us Liberal and learned people. But -whether the strange physical affection I have for the real labouring -people compelled me to understand them and to see that they are not -so stupid as we suppose; or whether it was due to the sincerity of my -conviction that I could know nothing beyond the fact that the best I -could do was to hang myself, at any rate I instinctively felt that if -I wished to live and understand the meaning of life, I must seek this -meaning not among those who have lost it and wish to kill themselves, -but among those milliards of the past and the present who know it, and -who support the burden of their own lives and of ours also. - -And on examining the matter I saw that the milliards of mankind always -have had and still have a knowledge of the meaning of life, but _that_ -knowledge is their faith, which I could not but reject. 'It is God, one -and three, the creation in six days, the devils and angels, and all the -rest that I cannot accept as long as I retain my reason,' said I to -myself. - -My position was terrible. I knew I could find nothing along the path -of reasonable knowledge, except a denial of life; and in faith I could -find nothing but a denial of reason, still more impossible to me than a -denial of life. - -Finally I saw that my mistake lay in ever expecting an examination of -finite things to supply a meaning to life. The finite has no ultimate -meaning apart from the infinite. The two must be linked together before -an answer to life's problems can be reached. - -It had only appeared to me that knowledge gave a definite -answer--Schopenhauer's answer: that life has no meaning, and is an -evil. On examining the matter further, I understood that the reply is -not positive: it was only my feeling that made it seem so. The reply, -strictly expressed as the Brahmins and Solomon and Schopenhauer express -it, amounts only to an indefinite answer, like the reply given in -mathematics when instead of solving an equation we find we have solved -an identity: X = X, or 0 = 0. The answer is, that life is nothing. -So that philosophic knowledge merely asserts that it cannot solve -the question, and the solution remains, as far as it is concerned, -indefinite. And I understood, further, that however unreasonable -and monstrous might be the replies given by faith, they had this -advantage, that they introduce into each reply a relation between the -finite and the infinite, without which relation no reply is possible. - -Whichever way I put the question, that relation appeared in the answer. -How am I to live?--According to the law of God. What real result will -come of my life?--Eternal torment or eternal bliss. What meaning has -life, that death does not destroy?--Union with the eternal God: heaven. - -Faith still remained to me as irrational as it was before, but I could -not but admit that it alone gives mankind a reply to the questions of -life; and that consequently it makes life possible. - -Where there is life, there, since man began, faith has made life -possible for him; and the chief outline of that faith is everywhere -and always one and the same. Faith does not consist in agreeing with -what some one has said, as is usually supposed; faith is a knowledge of -the meaning of human life in consequence of which man does not destroy -himself, but lives. Faith is the strength of life. If a man lives he -believes in something. If he does not see and recognise the visionary -nature of the finite, then he believes in the finite; if he understands -the visionary nature of the finite, he must believe in the infinite. -Without faith he cannot live. - - * * * * * - -What am I?--A part of the infinite. In those few words lies the whole -problem. - -I began dimly to understand that in the replies given by faith, is -stored up the deepest human wisdom. - -I understood this; but it made matters no better for me. - -I was now ready to accept any faith, if only it did not demand of me -a direct denial of reason--which would be a falsehood. And I studied -Buddhism and Mohammedanism from books, and most of all, I studied -Christianity both from books and from living people. - -Naturally I first of all turned to the Orthodox of my circle, to -people who were learned: to Church theologians, the monks, to the -theologians of the newest shade, and even to the Evangelicals[55] -who profess salvation by belief in the Redemption. And I seized on -these believers and questioned them as to their beliefs, and their -understanding of the meaning of life. - - [55] Readers of _Resurrection_ (Book II, Chap. 17) will - remember the vivid description of the Evangelical meeting - addressed by Kiesewetter, who spoke in English. The original - from whom Tolstoy drew Kiesewetter was Baedeker, a well-known - Evangelical preacher who lived in England, but visited Russia - frequently. - -But in spite of my readiness to make all possible concessions, I saw -that what they gave out as their faith did not explain the meaning of -life, but obscured it. - -I remember the painful feeling of fear of being thrown back into my -former state of despair, after the hope I often and often experienced -in my intercourse with these people. - -The more fully they explained to me their doctrines, the more clearly -did I see their error.... It was not that in their doctrines they mixed -many unnecessary and unreasonable things with the Christian truths -that had always been near to me: that was not what repelled me. I -was repelled by the fact that these people's lives were like my own, -with only this difference--that such a life did not correspond to the -principles they expounded in their teachings. - -No arguments could convince me of the truth of their faith. Only deeds -which showed that they saw a meaning in life, which made what was so -dreadful to me--poverty sickness and death--not dreadful to them, could -convince me. And such deeds I did not see among the various bodies of -believers in our circle. On the contrary, I saw such deeds done by -people of our circle who were the most unbelieving, but never by the -so-called believers of our circle.[56] - - [56] This passage is the more noteworthy because it is almost - the only reference (and even this is indirect) made by Tolstoy - at this period to the revolutionary or 'To-the-People' - movement in which so many young men and women were risking and - sacrificing home, property, freedom, and life itself, from - motives which had much in common with his own perception that - the upper layers of 'Society' are parasitic, and prey on the - vitals of the people who support them. - -And I understood that the belief of these people was not the faith I -sought, and that their faith is not a real faith, but an Epicurean -consolation in life. - -And I began to draw near to the believers among the poor simple -unlettered folk: pilgrims, monks, sectarians and peasants. Among them, -too, I found a great deal of superstition mixed with the Christian -truths; but their superstitions seemed a necessary and natural part of -their lives.... And I began to look well into the life and faith of -these people, and the more I considered it, the more I became convinced -that they have a real faith, which is a necessity to them and alone -gives their life a meaning and makes it possible for them to live.... -In contrast with what I had seen in our circle, where the whole of life -is passed in idleness and amusements and dissatisfaction, I saw that -the whole life of these people was passed in heavy labour, and that -they were content with life.... While we think it terrible that we have -to suffer and die, these folk live and suffer, and approach death with -tranquillity, and in most cases gladly. - -And I learnt to love these people. The more I came to know their life -the more I loved them, and the easier it became for me to live. So -I went on for about two years, and a change took place in me which -had long been preparing, and the promise of which had always been in -me. The life of our circle, the rich and learned, not merely became -distasteful to me but lost all meaning for me; while the life of the -whole labouring people, the whole of mankind who produce life, appeared -to me in its true light. I understood that _that_ is life itself, and -that the meaning given to that life is true; and I accepted it. - -I then understood that my answer to the question, 'What is life?' when -I said that life is 'evil,' was quite correct. The only mistake was, -that that answer referred to _my_ life, but not to life in general. My -life, a life of indulgence and desires, was meaningless and evil.... -And I understood the truth, which I afterwards found in the Gospels, -that men love darkness rather than the light because their deeds are -evil; and that to see things as they are, one must think and speak -of the life of humanity, and not of the life of the minority who are -parasites on life. - -And indeed, the bird lives so that it must fly, collect food and -build its nest; and when I see the bird doing that, I joy in its joy. -The goat, hare and wolf live so that they must feed themselves, and -propagate and feed their families, and when they do so, I feel firmly -assured that they are happy and that their life is a reasonable one. -And what does man do? He should earn a living as the beasts do, but -with this difference--that he would perish if he did it alone; he has -to procure it not for himself but for all. When he does _that_, I have -a firm assurance that he is happy and that his life is reasonable. And -what had I done during the whole thirty years of my conscious life? I -had not only not been earning a living for all, I had not even earned -my own living. I had lived as a parasite, and when I asked myself what -use my life was, I found that my life was useless. If the meaning of -human life lies in supporting it, how could I, who for thirty years -had occupied myself not with supporting life but with destroying it in -myself and in others--how could I obtain any other reply than that my -life was senseless and an evil? It was both senseless and evil. - -The conviction that a knowledge of life can only be found by living, -led me to doubt the goodness of my own life.... During that whole year, -when I was asking myself almost every moment, whether I should not end -matters with a noose or a bullet--all that time, alongside the course -of thought and observation about which I have spoken, my heart was -oppressed with a painful feeling which I can only describe as a search -for God. - -I went over in my mind the arguments of Kant and Schopenhauer showing -the impossibility of proving the existence of a God, and I began to -refute them. Cause, said I to myself, is not a category such as are -Time and Space. If I exist, there must be some cause for it, and a -cause of causes. And that first cause of all, is what men have called -'God.' And as soon as I acknowledged that there is a force in whose -power I am, I at once felt that I could live. But I asked myself: -What is that cause, that force? How am I to think of it? What are my -relations to that which I call 'God'? And only the familiar replies -occurred to me: 'He is the Creator and Preserver.' This reply did not -satisfy me, and I felt I was losing within me what I needed for my -life. I became terrified and began to pray to him whom I sought, that -he should help me. But the more I prayed the more apparent it became -to me that he did not hear me, and that there was no one to whom to -address myself. And with despair in my heart that there is no God at -all, I said: 'Lord, have mercy, save me! Lord, teach me!' But no one -had mercy on me, and I felt that my life was coming to a standstill. - -But again and again I returned to the same admission that I could not -have come into the world without any cause or reason or meaning; I -could not be such a fledgling fallen from its nest as I felt myself to -be. Or, granting that I be such, lying on my back in the high grass, -even then I cry because I know that a mother has borne me within her, -has hatched me, warmed me, fed me and loved me. Where is she--that -mother? If she has deserted me, who is it that has done so? I cannot -hide from myself that some one bore me, loving me. Who was that some -one? Again 'God'? - -'He exists,' said I to myself. And I had only for an instant to admit -that, and at once life rose within me, and I felt the possibility and -joy of being. But again, from the admission of the existence of a God -I went on to seek my relations with him; and again I imagined _that_ -God--our creator in three persons who sent his son, the Saviour--and -again _that_ God, detached from the world and from me, melts like a -block of ice, melts before my eyes, and again nothing remains, and -again the spring of life dries up within me, and I despair, and feel -that I have nothing to do but to kill myself. And the worst of all is, -that I feel I cannot do it. - -Not twice or three times, but tens and hundreds of times, I reached -those conditions first of joy and animation, and then of despair and -consciousness of the impossibility of living. - -I remember that it was in early spring: I was alone in the wood -listening to its sounds. I listened and thought ever of the same thing, -as I had constantly done during those last three years. I was again -seeking God. - -'Very well, there is no God,' said I to myself; 'there is no one who is -not my imagination but a reality like my whole life. He does not exist, -and no miracles can prove his existence, because the miracles would be -my perceptions, besides being irrational.' - -'But my _perception_ of God, of him whom I seek,' asked I of myself, -'where has that perception come from?' And again at this thought the -glad waves of life rose within me. All that was around me came to life, -and received a meaning. But my joy did not last long. My mind continued -its work. - -'The conception of God, is not God,' said I to myself. 'The conception, -is what takes place within me. The conception of God, is something I -can evoke or can refrain from evoking in myself. That is not what I -seek. I seek that, without which there can be no life.' And again all -around me and within me began to die, and again I wished to kill myself. - -But then I turned my gaze upon myself, on what went on within me, and -I remembered that I only lived at those times when I believed in God. -As it was before, so it was now; I need only be aware of God to live; I -need only forget him, or disbelieve in him, and I die.... 'What more -do you seek?' exclaimed a voice within me. 'This is he. He is that -without which one cannot live. To know God and to live is one and the -same thing. God is life. Live seeking God, and then you will not live -without God.' And more than ever before, all within me and around me -lit up, and the light did not again abandon me. - -And I was saved from suicide.... And strange to say, the strength of -life which returned to me was not new, but quite old--the same that had -borne me along in my earliest days. - -I quite returned to what belonged to my earliest childhood and youth. -I returned to the belief in that Will which produced me, and desires -something of me. I returned to the belief that the chief and only -aim of my life is to be better, _i.e._ to live in accord with that -Will. And I returned to the belief that I can find the expression of -that Will, in what humanity, in the distant past hidden from me, has -produced for its guidance: that is to say, I returned to a belief in -God, in moral perfecting, and in a tradition transmitting the meaning -of life.... - -I turned from the life of our circle: acknowledging that theirs is -not life but only a simulacrum of life, and that the conditions -of superfluity in which we live deprive us of the possibility of -understanding life.... The simple labouring people around me were the -Russian people, and I turned to them and to the meaning which they give -to life. That meaning, if one can put it into words, was the following. -Every man has come into this world by the will of God. And God has so -made man that every man can destroy his soul or save it. The aim of man -in life is to save his soul; and to save his soul he must live 'godly,' -and to live 'godly' he must renounce all the pleasures of life, must -labour, humble himself, suffer and be merciful.... The meaning of this -was clear and near to my heart. But together with this meaning of the -popular faith of our non-sectarian folk among whom I live, much was -inseparably bound up that revolted me and seemed to me inexplicable: -sacraments, Church services, fasts, and the adoration of relics and -icons. The people cannot separate the one from the other, nor could -I. And strange as much of it was to me, I accepted everything; and -attended the services, knelt morning and evening in prayer, fasted, -and prepared to receive the eucharist; and at first my reason did not -resist anything. What had formerly seemed to me impossible, did not now -evoke in me any resistance.... - -I told myself that the essence of every faith consists in its giving -life a meaning which death does not destroy. Naturally, for a faith -to be able to reply to the questions of a king dying in luxury, of an -old slave tormented by overwork, and of all sorts of people, young and -old, wise and foolish,--its answers must be expressed in all sorts -of different ways.... But this argument, justifying in my eyes the -queerness of much on the ritual side of religion, did not suffice to -allow me, in the one great affair of life--religion--to do things -which seemed to me questionable. With all my soul I wished to be in a -position to mingle with the people, fulfilling the ritual side of their -religion; but I could not do it. I felt that I should lie to myself, -and mock at what was sacred to me, were I to do so. At this point, -however, our new Russian theological writers came to my rescue. - -According to the explanation these theologians gave, the fundamental -dogma of our faith is the infallibility of the Church. From the -admission of that dogma follows inevitably the truth of all that is -professed by the Church. The Church as an assembly of true-believers -united by love, and therefore possessed of true knowledge, became -the basis of my belief. I told myself that divine truth cannot be -accessible to a separate individual; it is revealed only to the whole -assembly of people united by love. To attain truth one must not -separate; and not to separate, one must love and must endure things one -may not agree with. - -Truth reveals itself to love, and if you do not submit to the rites of -the Church, you transgress against love; and by transgressing against -love you deprive yourself of the possibility of recognising the truth. -I did not then see the sophistry contained in this argument. I did -not see that union in love may give the greatest love, but certainly -cannot give us divine truth expressed in the definite words of the -Nicene Creed. I also did not perceive that love cannot make a certain -expression of truth an obligatory condition of union. I did not -then see these mistakes in the argument, and thanks to it, was able -to accept and perform all the rites of the Orthodox Church without -understanding most of them. - -When fulfilling the rites of the Church I humbled my reason, submitted -to tradition, united myself with my forefathers: the father, mother -and grandparents I loved, and with all those millions of the common -people whom I respected. When rising before dawn for the early Church -services, I knew I was doing well, if only because I was sacrificing -my bodily ease to humble my mental pride, and for the sake of finding -the meaning of life. However insignificant these sacrifices might -be, I made them for the sake of something good. I fasted, prepared -for communion, and observed the fixed hours of prayer at home and in -church. During Church service I attended to every word, and gave them a -meaning whenever I could. - -But this reading of meanings into the rites had its limits.... If I -explained to myself the frequent repetition of prayers for the Tsar and -his relatives, by the fact that they are more exposed to temptation -than other people and therefore more in need of being prayed for, the -prayers about subduing enemies and foes under his feet (even though -one tried to say that sin was the foe prayed against) and many other -unintelligible prayers--nearly two-thirds of the whole service--either -remained quite incomprehensible or, when I forced an explanation into -them, made me feel that I was lying, and thereby quite destroying my -relation to God and losing all possibility of believing.... - -Never shall I forget the painful feeling I experienced the day I -received the eucharist for the first time after many years. The -service, confession and prayers were quite intelligible and produced -in me a glad consciousness that the meaning of life was being revealed -to me. The communion itself I explained as an act performed in -remembrance of Christ, and indicating a purification from sin and -the full acceptance of Christ's teaching. If that explanation was -artificial I did not notice its artificiality: so happy was I at -humbling and abasing myself before the priest--a simple timid country -clergyman--turning all the dirt out of my soul and confessing my vices, -so glad was I to merge in thought with the humility of the Fathers who -wrote the prayers of the Office, so glad was I of union with all who -have believed and now believe, that I did not notice the artificiality -of my explanation. But when I approached the altar gates, and the -priest made me say that I believed that what I was about to swallow was -truly flesh and blood, I felt a pain in my heart: it was not merely -a false note, it was a cruel demand made by some one or other who -evidently had never known what faith is. - -I now permit myself to say that it was a cruel demand, but I did not -then think so: only it was indescribably painful to me. At the time, I -found in my soul a feeling which helped me to endure it. This was the -feeling of self-abasement and humility. I humbled myself, swallowed -that flesh and blood without any blasphemous feelings, and with a wish -to believe. But the blow had been struck, and knowing what awaited me, -I could not go a second time. - -I continued to fulfil the rites of the Church and still believed that -the doctrine I was following contained the truth, when something -happened to me which I now understand but which then seemed strange. - -I was listening to the conversation of an illiterate peasant, a -pilgrim, about God, faith, life and salvation, when a knowledge of -faith revealed itself to me. I drew near to the people, listening to -their opinions on life and faith, and I understood the truth. So also -was it when I read the Lives of the Saints, which became my favourite -books. Putting aside the miracles, and regarding them as fables -illustrating thoughts, this reading revealed to me life's meaning. -There were the lives of Makarius the Great, of the Tsarévitch Joasafa -(the story of Buddha) and there were the stories of the traveller in -the well, and the monk who found some gold. There were stories of the -martyrs, all announcing that death does not exclude life; and there -were the stories of ignorant, stupid men, and such as knew nothing of -the teaching of the Church, but who yet were saved. - -But as soon as I met learned believers, or took up their books, doubt -of myself, dissatisfaction, and exasperated disputation, were roused -within me, and I felt that the more I entered into the meaning of -these men's speech, the more I went astray from truth and approached -an abyss. How often I envied the peasants their illiteracy and lack -of learning! Those statements in the creeds, which to me were evident -absurdities, for them contained nothing false. Only to me, unhappy -man, was it clear that with truth falsehood was interwoven by finest -threads, and that I could not accept it in that form. - -So I lived for about three years. At first, when I did not understand -something, I said, 'It is my fault, I am sinful'; but the more I -fathomed the truth, the clearer became the line between what I do not -understand because I am not able to understand it, and what cannot be -understood except by lying to oneself. - -In spite of my doubts and sufferings, I still clung to the Orthodox -Church. But questions of life arose which had to be decided; and -the decision of these questions by the Church, contrary to the very -bases of the belief by which I lived, obliged me at last to own that -communion with Orthodoxy is impossible. These questions were: first -the relation of the Orthodox Eastern Church to other Churches--to the -Catholics and to the so-called sectarians. At that time, in consequence -of my interest in religion, I came into touch with believers of various -faiths: Catholics, Protestants, Old-Believers, Molokáns and others. And -I met many men of lofty morals who were truly religious. I wished to -be a brother to them. And what happened? That teaching which promised -to unite all in one faith and love--that very teaching, in the person -of its best representatives, told me that these men were all living -a lie; that what gave them their power of life, is a temptation of -the devil; and that we alone possess the only possible truth. And I -saw that all who do not profess an identical faith with themselves, -are considered by the Orthodox to be heretics; just as the Catholics -and others consider the Orthodox to be heretics. And I saw that the -Orthodox (though they try to hide this) regard with hostility all who -do not express their faith by the same external symbols and words as -themselves; and this is naturally so: first, because the assertion that -you are in falsehood and I am in truth, is the most cruel thing one man -can say to another; and secondly, because a man loving his children and -brothers cannot help being hostile to those who wish to pervert his -children and brothers to a false belief.... And to me, who considered -that truth lay in union by love, it became self-evident that the faith -was itself destroying what it ought to produce. - -As people of many different religions behave to one another in this -same contemptuous, self-assured manner--the error of such conduct was -obvious; and I thought on the matter and read all I could about it, -and consulted all whom I could. And no one gave me any explanation -except the one which causes the Soúmsky Hussars to consider the Soúmsky -Hussars the best regiment in the world, and the Yellow Uhlans to -consider that the best regiment in the world is the Yellow Uhlans.... -I went to Archimandrites, archbishops, elders, monks of the strictest -Orders, and asked them; but none of them made any attempt to explain -the matter to me, except one man, who explained it all, and explained -it so that I never asked any one any more about it. - -I asked him why we should not unite on those main points on which we -could agree, and leave the rest for each to decide as he pleases. My -collocutor agreed with my thoughts, but told me that such concessions -would bring reproach on the spiritual authorities for deserting the -faith of our forefathers, and this would produce a split; and the -vocation of the spiritual authorities is to safeguard in all its purity -the Greco-Russian Orthodox faith inherited from our forefathers. - -And I understood it all. I am seeking a faith, the power of life; -and they are seeking the best way to fulfil before men certain human -obligations.... And I noticed what is done in the name of religion, and -was horrified; and I almost entirely abjured Orthodoxy. - -The second relation of the Church to a question of life, was with -regard to war and executions. - -At that time Russia was at war. And Russians, in the name of Christian -love, began to kill their fellow-men. It was impossible not to think -about this, and not to see that killing is an evil, repugnant to the -first principles of any faith. Yet they prayed in the churches for the -success of our arms, and the teachers of the faith acknowledged killing -to be an act resulting from the faith. And besides the murders during -the war, I saw during the disturbances which followed the war, Church -dignitaries and teachers and monks of the lesser and stricter Orders, -who approved the killing of helpless erring youths. And I took note of -all that is done by men who profess Christianity, and I was horrified. - -And I ceased to doubt, and became fully convinced that not all was true -in the religion I had joined. Formerly I should have said that it was -all false; but I could not say so now, for I had felt its truth and had -lived by it. But I no longer doubted that there is in it much that is -false. And though among the peasants there was less admixture of what -repelled me, still I saw that in their belief also, falsehood was mixed -with the truth. - -But where did the truth and where did the falsehood come from? Both the -falsehood and the truth were contained in the so-called holy tradition -and Scriptures. Both the falsehood and the truth had been handed down -by what is called the Church. - -And whether I liked to or not, I was brought to the study and -investigation of these writings and traditions--which till now I had -been so afraid to investigate. - -And I turned to the examination of that same theology which I had once -rejected with such contempt.... On it religious doctrine rests, or at -least with it the only knowledge of the meaning of life that I have -found, is inseparably connected.... I shall not seek the explanation -of everything. I know that the explanation of everything, like the -commencement of everything, must be concealed in infinity. But I wish -to understand in a way which will bring me to what is inevitably -inexplicable. I wish to recognise anything that is inexplicable, as -being so, not because the demands of my reason are wrong (they are -right, and apart from them I can understand nothing), but because I -recognise the limits of my intellect. I wish to understand in such a -way that everything that is inexplicable shall present itself to me as -being necessarily inexplicable, and not as being something I am under -an arbitrary obligation to believe. I must find what is true and what -is false, and must disentangle the one from the other. I am setting -to work upon this task. What of falsehood I find in the teaching, and -what I find of truth, and to what conclusions I come, will form the -following parts of this work, which if it be worth it, and if any one -wants it, will probably some day be printed somewhere. - - * * * * * - -These closing words in which Tolstoy expresses the hope that his work -'will probably some day be printed somewhere,' are a reminder of the -difficulties and dangers that had to be encountered in Russia by any -man who set out to challenge the authority of the Orthodox Church, -whose affairs were managed by the Holy Synod, presided over by a -Procurator able to call on the secular powers to enforce his decisions. - - -AUTHORITY FOR CHAPTER XI - -Tolstoy's _Ispoved_: Christchurch, 1901. - -Tolstoy's _Confession_ being prohibited in Russia, had to be printed -abroad. The edition mentioned above is a reliable one. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - WORKS: 1852-1878 - -Tolstoy's first nineteen stories. Stands in a line of succession. -Quality as writer. _War and Peace._ 'Great' men. Napoleon. The battles -of Schöngraben and Borodinó. Tolstoy's influence on war-correspondence. -Serfdom. The organisation of society. Characters in _War and Peace_. -Its range. _Anna Karénina_: Matthew Arnold's essay. Translations. The -tendency of the book. Kropótkin's criticism. The volunteers. Tolstoy's -attitude towards Government. W. D. Howells's appreciation. Tolstoy's -Last Three Decades of work: the magnitude and nature of his effort. - - -TOLSTOY'S writings during the first twenty-five years of his literary -career divide up into six sections. - -First came a series of seventeen stories and sketches, beginning with -_Childhood_ and ending with _Family Happiness_. Next came his series -of educational articles in the _Yásnaya Polyána_ magazine. Third came -_The Cossacks_ (the finest story he had yet written) and _Polikoúshka_. -Fourth, came _War and Peace_. Fifth, came the _ABC_ Book, the -_Readers_, and another article on Education; and sixth, came _Anna -Karénina_. - -Leaving the educational works out of account, the list can be reduced -to nineteen stories and sketches, followed by two great novels. - -The nineteen sketches and stories, 'trials of the pen,' as Tolstoy -called them, covered a wide range of subjects, from charmingly -realistic sketches of childhood to vigorous depictions of Cossack -life, and showed their writer to be an amazingly accurate observer of -physical facts and qualities, manners, tones and gestures, besides -being possessed of a yet more wonderful knowledge of the hearts and -minds of all sorts and conditions of men, from the shame-faced child -to the officer dying on the field of battle. He is so concerned with -the interest and importance of life, that he can hold his reader's -attention without having to tell his stories so that they must be -guessed like riddles, and he never makes use of elaborate plots. He -needs no tricks of that sort. Nor does he strive after effect by -the use of pornographic details, the introduction of extraordinary -events, or the piling up of many horrible details. His stories are as -straightforward as everyday life. - -His great novels bear out all the promise of his short stories, with -the added power of maturity. - -Though highly original and of strong individuality, he stands none -the less in the line of succession of great writers which began with -Poúshkin, whose genius for simple sincere and direct narrative gave -an invaluable direction to Russian literature, was continued by Gógol -whose biting irony and remorseless exposure of shams and hypocrisies -completed the emancipation from romanticism, and was carried on by -Tourgénef, whose art, conscious of and not indifferent to the trend -of thought and feeling in the society it describes, reached an -extraordinary pitch of artistic perfection. - -Tolstoy's works have from the first interested Russia, and now interest -the world, because in greater measure than any of his predecessors he -possesses the capacity to feel intensely, note accurately, and think -deeply. The combination which makes Tolstoy the most interesting of -writers, is the scientific accuracy of his observation (which never -allows him to take liberties with his characters or events in order to -make out a case for the side he sympathises with) and the fact that -he is mightily in earnest. Life to him is important, and art is the -handmaid of life. He wants to know what is good and what is bad; to -help the former and to resist the latter. His work tends to evolve -order out of life's chaos; and as that is the most important thing a -man can do, his books are among the most interesting and important -books of our time. He makes no pretence of standing aloof, cutting off -his art from his life, or concealing his desire that kindness should -prevail over cruelty. Life interests him, and therefore the reflection -of life interests him, and the problems of art are the problems of -life: love and passion and death and the desire to do right. - -The chief subject reappearing again and again throughout the stories -he wrote before _War and Peace_, is the mental striving of a young -Russian nobleman to free himself from the artificial futilities of -the society in which he was born, and to see and do what is right. -The search is only partially successful. The indictment of society is -often convincing, but the heroes' failures and perplexities are frankly -admitted. Sometimes there is no hero. In _Sevastopol_, for instance, he -exclaims: 'Where in this tale is the evil shown that should be avoided? -Where is the good that should be imitated? Who is the villain, who the -hero of the story? All are good and all are bad'; and in _Lucerne_ he -says: 'Who will define for me what is freedom, what despotism, what -civilisation and what barbarism? Or tell me where are the limits of the -one or the other? Who has in his soul so immovable a _standard of good -and evil_ that by it he can measure the passing facts of life?' - -This searching for what is good and rejecting what is false--resulting -in a strong distrust and dislike of the predatory masterful domineering -types of humanity, and in general of what has usually been regarded -as the heroic type, and also in a friendly compassion for all that is -humble simple forbearing and sincere--is the keynote of Tolstoy's early -tales. They are studies of life, so truthful that the characters seem -to have an independent life of their own. They speak for themselves, -and at times, like Balaam, bless what they were apparently expected -to curse. For instance, when Prince Nehlúdof insists on bringing the -wandering musician into the Schweizerhof Hotel in _Lucerne_, we feel -how uncomfortable he thereby makes the poor singer, though that is -evidently not what Tolstoy originally set out to make us feel. - -_War and Peace_, besides being maturer than the preceding tales, was -composed during the early years of Tolstoy's married life, when he -felt more content with himself and with life in general, and when his -attitude towards existing things was more tolerant and sympathetic than -it had been, or than it became in later years. - -He told me that in _War and Peace_ and _Anna Karénina_ his aim was -simply to amuse his readers. I am bound to accept his statement; but -one has only to read either of those books to see that through them -Tolstoy's ardent nature found vent, with all its likes and dislikes, -strivings, yearnings, hopes and fears. - -I asked Tolstoy why in _What is Art?_ he relegates these great novels -to the realm of 'bad art'; and his answer showed, as I expected it -would, that he does not really consider them at all bad, but condemns -them merely as being too long, and written in a way chiefly adapted -to please the leisured well-to-do classes, who have time for reading -novels in several volumes, because other people do their rough work for -them. Of _War and Peace_ he said, 'It is, one would think, harmless -enough, but one never knows how things will affect people,' and he went -on to mention, with regret, that one of Professor Zahárin's daughters -had told him that from his novels she had acquired a love of balls and -parties; things of which, at the time of our conversation, he heartily -disapproved. - -In form, _War and Peace_ is unlike any English novel, but it resembles -Poúshkin's _The Captain's Daughter_ (though the latter is a much -shorter story) in that both works are chronicles of Russian families, -round whom the stories centre. In _War and Peace_ there are two -families, the Rostófs and the Bolkónskys. - -The mighty drama of the Napoleonic advance from 1805 to 1812 comes into -the novel, in so far as it affects the members of those two families. -But Tolstoy is not content merely to tell us of historic events. He -introduces a whole philosophy of history, which is sound at bottom -though no doubt he somewhat overstates his case, as is his habit. The -theory is that the 'great' men of history count for very little. They -are the figureheads of forces that are beyond their control. They do -most good and least harm when, like Koutoúzof, they are aware of the -true direction of the great human forces and adapt themselves to them; -but then they are modest, and the world does not esteem them great. -The typical case of the impotent 'great' man is Napoleon in 1812, at -the time of his invasion of Russia. He posed before the world as a man -of destiny whose will and intellect decided the fate of empires. Yet -from first to last, during that campaign, he never in the least knew -what was about to happen. The result was decided by the spirit of the -Russian nation, and by its steadfast endurance. Every common Russian -soldier who understood that the Russian people dreaded and detested -the thought of a foreign yoke, and who therefore co-operated with the -natural course of events, did more to further the result than Napoleon, -that 'most insignificant tool of history,' as Tolstoy calls him, who -even in St. Helena was never able to understand what had caused his -overthrow. - -The main theme of the novel, if it be permissible to select a main -theme out of the many latent in the story, is Tolstoy's favourite -thesis. He tacitly asks: What is good and what is bad? With what must -we sympathise and what must we reject? And the reply is that the -predatory, artificial and insincere types, exemplified historically by -the invading French, as well as by such characters among the Russians -as Ellen, Anatole and Dólohof, are repugnant to him, while he loves the -humble, the meek and the sincere: Marie and Platon Karatáef, Natásha -(so impulsive and charming in her youth, so absorbed in her family -later on), and Pierre (who is often humble and always sincere, and -loves ideas and ideals). - -It is impossible to do justice to this wonderful book in any brief -summary. It is not a work to be summed up in a few pages. It has many -characters, all of them so distinctly drawn that we know them better -than we know our personal acquaintances. It treats of life's deepest -experiences from the cradle to the grave; and to read it with the care -it deserves is to know life better and see it more sanely and seriously -than one ever did before. Some foolish people think that reading novels -is a waste of time; but there are hardly any books--at any rate hardly -any big books--that are better worth reading than Tolstoy's novels. - -He is probably justified in claiming that his history is truer than -the historians' history of the battles of Schöngraben, Austerlitz, -and Borodinó. The historians, from mendacious military reports drawn -up after the action, try to discover what the Commanders-in-Chief -meant to do; and to tell their story within moderate limits they have -to systematise what was really a huge disorder; thereby giving their -readers a completely wrong impression of what a battle is like. - -N. N. Mouravyóf, a Commander-in-Chief who distinguished himself in -more than one war, declared he had never read a better description of -a battle than Tolstoy's account of Schöngraben; and added that he was -convinced from his own experience that during a battle it is impossible -to carry out a Commander-in-Chief's orders. - -Tolstoy, when he wrote the book, was convinced that war is inevitable. -The idea that it is man's duty to resist war and to refuse to take part -in it, came to him later. - -In an article entitled 'Some Words about _War and Peace_,' which he -wrote in 1868 for one of the periodicals, he says: - -'Why did millions of people kill one another, when since the foundation -of the world it has been known that this is both physically and morally -bad? - -'Because it was so inevitably necessary, that when doing it they -fulfilled the elemental zoological law bees fulfil when they kill one -another in autumn, and male animals fulfil when they destroy one -another. No other reply can be given to that dreadful question.' - -Yet his inveterate truthfulness, and his personal knowledge of war, -caused him to describe it so exactly, that the result is tantamount -to a condemnation. As Kropótkin says, _War and Peace_ is a powerful -indictment of war. The effect which the great writer has exercised in -this direction upon his generation can be actually seen in Russia. -It was already apparent during the Russo-Turkish war of 1877-8, when -it was impossible to find in Russia a correspondent who would have -described how '_we_ peppered the enemy with grape-shot,' or how 'we -knocked them down like ninepins.' If any one could have been found -to use in his letters such survivals of barbarism, no paper would -have dared to print them. The general character of the Russian -war-correspondent had totally changed; and during that war there -appeared Gárshin the novelist, and Verestchágin the painter, 'with whom -to combat war became a life work.' - -It has been charged against _War and Peace_ that it neglects to show -the evil side of serfdom: the brutality, the cruelty, the immurement -of women, the flogging of grown-up sons, the torture of serf girls by -their mistresses, etc. But Tolstoy studied the period closely from -letters, diaries and traditions, especially from the records of his own -grandparents, the Tolstoys and the Volkónskys; and he says he did not -find horrors worse than are to be found now, or at any other period. -People then loved and envied, and sought for truth and virtue, and were -swayed by passions, as now. Their mental and moral life was just as -complex, and in the upper circles it was sometimes even more refined -than now.... No doubt the greater remoteness of the higher circle from -the other classes gave a special character to the period, but not the -character of brutal violence. - -Tolstoy is in sympathy with that time, sees the poetry of it, and -knows how much of goodness, courage, kindliness and high aspiration -existed among those politically unenfranchised serf-owners. With our -modern, Western desire to _organise society efficiently_, he never has -sympathised. The state of a man's mind has always been to him more -important than the conditions of his life, and it seems to him as -though there were some antithesis between the two: as though, if you -organised your society, it would cease to think truly or feel deeply. -We in the West are beginning to believe the opposite, and to suspect -that to leave society unorganised or disorganised has an inevitable -tendency to blunt our minds and souls. But not the less is it valuable -to have so wonderful a picture of Russia as it was at the commencement -of the nineteenth century, painted by one who sees it as the best -Russians of that period saw it themselves. - -Of the history part of the book, it should be noted that Tolstoy says: -'Wherever in my novel historic characters speak or act, I have not -invented, but have made use of materials which during my work have -accumulated till they form a whole library.' - -He told me he considered the defect of the book, besides its size, to -be the intrusion of a long philosophic argument into the story. He -still holds the opinions he held when he wrote it, as to the influence -or impotence of 'great' men, as well as all that he then said about -destiny and free will; but he now realises that his novel would have -been a better novel without these abstract disquisitions. - -The characters in the book are not strictly copied from life, but in -the main Tolstoy's father's family are represented by the Rostófs -and his mother's by the Bolkónskys. In the magazine article already -referred to, Tolstoy says that only two minor characters are taken from -life, and 'all the other characters are entirely invented, and I have -not even for them any definite prototypes in tradition or in reality.' -But when he said that, he was defending himself from the charge of -having copied actual people who had played a part in the society of the -time, and he clearly overstates his case, for to a considerable extent -the characters in the novel correspond to the people mentioned in the -following list: - - CHARACTERS IN _War and_ MEMBERS OF THE TOLSTOY - _Peace_: OR VOLKÓNSKY FAMILIES: - - The old Prince N. Bolkónsky = Tolstoy's grandfather, Prince - N. Volkónsky. - - His daughter, Princess Marie = Tolstoy's mother, the Princess - N. Bolkónsky Marie N. Volkónsky. - - The old Count Ilyá A. Rostóf = Tolstoy's grandfather, Count - Ilyá A. Tolstoy. - - Count Nicholas I. Rostóf = Tolstoy's father. Count - Nicholas I. Tolstoy. - - Countess Natálya Rostóf = Tatiána Behrs, Tolstoy's - youngest sister-in-law. - - Sónya = Tatiána A. Érgolsky. - - Dólohof is made up of a combination of Count Theodore Tolstoy, a - famous traveller, with R. I. Dórohof, a notorious dare-devil of - Alexander I.'s days. - -Many even of the minor characters, such as Mlle. Bourienne, and -Ivánushka the woman pilgrim in man's clothes, are copied more or less -closely from people connected with the Volkónskys' home at Yásnaya -Polyána. - -Tolstoy's sympathies and antipathies in this novel: his appreciation of -affection, kindliness, simplicity and truthfulness, and his dislike of -what is cruel, pompous, complicated or false, are the same as in his -earlier stories, but mellowed and wiser; they are also the same as in -his later didactic writings, though there they are formulated, dogmatic -and rigid. - -The novel covers nearly the whole range of Tolstoy's experience of -life: in it we have the aristocracy and the peasants; town life and -country life; the Commanders, officers and privates of the army, in -action and out of action; the diplomatists and courtiers; flirtation, -love, balls, hunting, and a reform movement which is all talk. What -Tolstoy does not show, is what he did not know--the middle-class world: -the world of merchants, manufacturers, engineers and men of business. -Of course these in Russia a hundred years ago, played a comparatively -small part; and there was practically no political activity such as -that of our County Councils, Borough Councils and Parliament. But -that all this was absent from Tolstoy's mind, and that his outlook on -life was confined to the aristocracy which consumed and the peasantry -which produced, will, in the sequel, help us to understand the social -teaching to which he ultimately came. His brother-in-law tells us that -Leo Tolstoy 'has in my presence confessed to being both proud and vain. -He was a rampant aristocrat, and though he always loved the country -folk, he loved the aristocracy still more. To the middle class he was -antipathetic. When, after his failures in early life, he became widely -famous as a writer, he used to admit that it gave him great pleasure -and intense happiness. In his own words, he was pleased to feel that he -was both a writer and a noble.' - -'When he heard of any of his former comrades or acquaintances receiving -important appointments, his comments reminded one of those of Souvórof -[a Field-Marshal of Catherine the Great's time], who always maintained -that at Court one receives promotion for cringing and flattery, but -never for good work. Sometimes he would ironically remark that, though -he had himself not earned a Generalship in the artillery, he had at any -rate won his Generalship in literature.' - -A simple world of nobles and peasants, with little organisation, and -that of a poor kind: a world the evils of which were mitigated by much -kindliness and good intention, and in which, on the whole, the less -the Government interfered with anybody or anything, the better--was -old Russia as it existed under Alexander I and as it still existed -when Tolstoy was young. He has described it with extraordinary -vividness, and has made it possible for us to picture to ourselves a -country and an age not our own. What effect the limitation of his -outlook, referred to above, had on the subsequent development of his -opinions, need not here be considered. It does not spoil the novel, -for no novel can show us the whole of life; but it had a very serious -effect on the formulation of his later philosophy of life. Of certain -important types of humanity he has hardly any conception. Of the George -Stephenson type, for instance, which masters the brute forces of nature -and harnesses them to the service of man--doing this primarily from -love of efficient work--he knows nothing; nor does he know any thing -of the Sidney Webb type, which sets itself the yet more difficult -task of evolving social order out of the partial chaos of modern -civilisation; or of the best type of organisers in our great industrial -undertakings: the men whose hearts are set on getting much work well -done, with little friction and little waste, and to whom the successful -accomplishment of a difficult project gives more satisfaction than any -effortless acquisition of wealth would do. Tolstoy over-simplifies -life's problems. He makes a sharp contrast between the predatory and -the humble types; and there is a measure of truth in his presentation. -He is right that life is supported by the humble, and is rendered hard -by the predatory types; but he has omitted from his scheme of things -the man of organising mind: the man who knows how to get his way, and -generally gets it (or a good deal of it) but does this mainly from -worthy motives; the man who is not perfect, and may take more than is -good for him, and may have some of the tendencies of the predatory -type, but who still, on the whole, is worth, and more than worth, his -salt, and but for whom there would be more of chaos and less of order -in the world. Tolstoy has said in one of his later writings that the -cause of the Russian famines is the Greek Church; and he is right. All -that stupefies, all that impedes thought, tends to make men inefficient -even in their agricultural operations. But by parity of reasoning he -should see that the introduction of thought into methods of production, -distribution and exchange, which has, during the last hundred and -fifty years, so revolutionised our Western world, should not be -condemned as bad in itself, however ugly many of its manifestations may -be; and however often we may see the organising and the predatory types -exemplified in one and the same person. - -Outside Russia, _Anna Karénina_ is perhaps more popular than _War and -Peace_. The former is a long novel, but not nearly as long as the -latter; and though it contains philosophic disquisitions, these fit -better into the story and are shorter and clearer than the philosophic -chapters in _War and Peace_. In arrangement, again, _Anna Karénina_ is -more like the novels we are accustomed to, though instead of one hero -and heroine it has two pairs of lovers, living quite different lives, -and not very closely connected. - -It deals with the passionate love of a beautiful and attractive woman; -and it has a further interest in the fact that Lévin, to a greater -degree than any of the author's other characters, represents Tolstoy -himself; though Tolstoy made Lévin a very simple fellow in order to get -a more effective contrast between him and the representatives of high -life in Moscow and Petersburg. - -_Anna Karénina_ had the advantage of being introduced to the English -reading public by Matthew Arnold in an essay which is one of the very -best any one has ever written about Tolstoy. It is so good, and still -carries so much weight, that I may be excused for mentioning three -points on which it seems to me misleading. First, Arnold's ground for -preferring _Anna Karénina_ to _War and Peace_ is ill chosen. He says: -'One prefers, I think, to have the novelist dealing with the life which -he knows from having lived it, rather than with the life which he knows -from books or hearsay. If one has to choose a representative work of -Thackeray, it is _Vanity Fair_ which one would take rather than _The -Virginians_.' - -This surely is misleading. War in Russia in 1812 was very similar to -war in Russia in 1854, and the son who had fought in the latter war, -describing the war in which his father had fought, was not at all -in the position of Thackeray describing the life of the Virginians. -Tolstoy depicting the homes of his parents and grandparents, which -he in part remembered, and which he at any rate knew well from those -who had formed part of them, was as close to first-hand experience as -he was when describing the life of Karénin the pedantic Petersburg -statesman, who belonged to a world which was essentially foreign to -Tolstoy, though he had occasionally glanced at it. - -But the sentence in Arnold's essay which has done most harm, is that in -which he speaks about translations: 'I use the French translation; in -general, as I long ago said, work of this kind is better done in France -than in England, and _Anna Karénina_ is perhaps also a novel which goes -better into French than into English.' - -It is true enough that the first English translations of Tolstoy were -very poor, and it is also true that the French versions, so long as -Tourgénef attended to them, were really good. But Arnold was wrong in -supposing that _Anna Karénina_ would naturally go better into French -than into English. Had he been able to read the original, or had he -been acquainted with Russian life, he would have seen that in Tolstoy's -novels there are two sets of people: a Court, Petersburg set, who -continually speak French and are Frenchified; and a plain, homely, -straightforward Russian (I had almost said, English) set who do not -use French phrases, and who are sharply contrasted with the others. -This contrast can be made quite clear in an English version, but it is -difficult to make it clear in a version where even the most Russian -characters have to speak French. The case is worse than that, however: -Arnold did not say, as he fairly might have said, that up to his time -the French versions were better than the English; he speaks as though -it were in the nature of things that any translation into French must -be better than any possible translation into English. A prejudice of -that kind tends to divert attention from the fact that some French -translations are bad, and some English translations are good. As a -matter of fact, since Arnold's time the position has been largely -reversed. When staying at Yásnaya Polyána in 1902, I heard Tolstoy -express considerable dissatisfaction with the new collected French -edition of his works, the first volumes of which had then recently -appeared, while he commended some recent English versions, including -work done by Mrs. Garnett and by my wife. - -A grave error, again, is made by Arnold in speaking of Tolstoy's later -life, where he says that he 'earns his bread by the labour of his own -hands.' Tolstoy never did that, and never claimed to have done it; -though it is extraordinary how often and how confidently the statement -has been repeated. It is a matter however which need not detain us, for -it does not relate to the period with which this volume deals. - -Arnold's summary of the story of the novel is excellent, but I can -here only quote one more passage from his essay. 'We have,' he says, -'been in a world which misconducts itself nearly as much as the world -of a French novel all palpitating with "modernity." But there are -two things in which the Russian novel--Count Tolstoi's novel at any -rate--is very advantageously distinguished from the type of novel now -so much in request in France. In the first place, there is no fine -sentiment, at once tiresome and false. We are not told to believe, for -example, that Anna is wonderfully exalted and ennobled by her passion -for Vrónsky. The English reader is thus saved from many a groan of -impatience. The other thing is yet more important. Our Russian novelist -deals abundantly with criminal passion and with adultery, but he does -not seem to feel himself owing any service to the goddess Lubricity, -or bound to put in touches at this goddess's dictation. Much in _Anna -Karénina_ is painful, much is unpleasant, but nothing is of a nature to -trouble the senses, or to please those who wish their senses troubled. -This taint is wholly absent.' - -W. D. Howells, who has stood sponsor for Tolstoy in America as Matthew -Arnold has done in England, similarly says: 'It is Tolstoy's humanity -which is the grace beyond the reach of art in his imaginative work. It -does not reach merely the poor and the suffering; it extends to the -prosperous and the proud, and does not deny itself to the guilty. There -had been many stories of adultery before _Anna Karénina_, nearly all -the great novels outside of English are framed upon that argument, but -in _Anna Karénina_, for the first time the whole truth was told about -it. Tolstoy has said of the fiction of Maupassant that the whole truth -can never be immoral; and in his own work I have felt that it could -never be anything but moral.' - -Tolstoy never fears to deal with the real problems of life, and never -fears to call a spade a spade; but he also never panders to the animal -passions. In a letter relating to _Resurrection_ he remarked: 'When -I read a book, what chiefly interests me is the _Weltanschauung des -Autors_: what he likes and what he hates. And I hope that any one who -reads my book with that in view will find out what the author likes -and dislikes, and will be influenced by the author's feelings.' What -is important is not the subject treated of, but the feeling the author -imparts when dealing with it. - -Arnold, it is true, is rather shocked that Anna should yield so quickly -and easily to the persuasions of Vrónsky. He is quite sure that she -ought to have resisted. But here we come to a matter on which many -Russians disapprove of Tolstoy on quite the opposite ground. Kropótkin -in his interesting work _Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_, -has stated their case very clearly, and this is the substance of what -he says: - -_Anna Karénina_ produced in Russia an impression which brought Tolstoy -congratulations from the reactionary camp and a very cool reception -from the advanced portion of society. The fact is that the question -of marriage and of the separation of husband and wife, had been most -earnestly debated in Russia by the best men and women, both in -literature and in life. Levity towards marriage such as is continually -unveiled in the Divorce Courts, was decidedly condemned, as also was -any form of deceit such as supplies the subject for countless French -novels and plays. But after levity and deceit had been condemned, the -right of a new love--appearing perhaps after years of happy married -life--was seriously considered, Tchernyshévsky's novel, _What Is To Be -Done?_ may be taken as the best expression of the opinions on marriage -which became current among the better portion of the young generation. -Once married, it was said, don't take lightly to love affairs or -flirtation. Not every fit of passion deserves the name of a new love; -and what is called love is often merely temporary desire. Even if it -be real, before it has grown deep there is generally time to reflect -on the consequences that would result were it allowed to grow. But -when all is said and done, there are cases when a new love does come, -and comes almost inevitably: as for instance when a girl has been -married almost against her will under the continued insistence of her -lover, or when the two have married without properly understanding one -another, or when one of the two has continued to progress towards an -ideal, while the other, after having worn the mask of idealism, falls -back into the Philistine happiness of warmed slippers. In such cases -separation not only becomes inevitable, but is often to the interest -of both. It would be better for both to live through the suffering a -separation involves (honest natures are improved by such suffering) -than to spoil the entire subsequent life of one--or both in most -cases--and to face the evil consequences which living together under -such circumstances would be sure to produce on the children. That at -any rate was the conclusion to which, both in literature and in life, -the best portion of Russian society came. - -And into the society Kropótkin describes in the above statement, comes -Tolstoy with _Anna Karénina_. The epigraph of the book is 'Vengeance -is mine, I will repay,' and death by suicide is the fate of poor -Anna, who was married young to an old and unattractive man, and who -had never known love till she met Vrónsky. Deceit was not in her -nature. To maintain a conventional marriage would not have made her -husband or child happier. Separation and a new life with Vrónsky, -who seriously loved her, was the only possible outcome. At any rate, -continues Kropótkin, if the story of _Anna Karénina_ had to end in -tragedy, it was not in consequence of an act of supreme justice. The -artistic genius of Tolstoy, honest here as everywhere, itself indicated -the real cause, in the inconsistency of Vrónsky and Anna. After -leaving her husband and defying public opinion--that is, as Tolstoy -shows, the opinion of women not honest enough to have a right to a -voice in the matter--neither she nor Vrónsky had the courage to break -right away from that society, the futility of which Tolstoy describes -so exquisitely. Instead of that, when Anna returns with Vrónsky to -Petersburg, their chief preoccupation is, how Betsy and other such -women will receive her if she reappears among them? 'And it was the -opinion of the Betsies--surely not Superhuman Justice--which brought -Anna to suicide.' - -Whether Matthew Arnold's view or Kropótkin's view be accepted, Tolstoy -at any rate does full justice to Anna's charm: 'her large, fresh, -rich, generous, delightful nature which keeps our sympathy' and even -our respect; there is no nonsense about her being a degraded or vile -person. And after all, Tolstoy's view of marriage sanctity is a very -old and a very widely held one; and it is surely good to have that -side of the case put so artistically, so persuasively, so well, as he -puts it. If ultimately the idea that two uncongenial people ought to -live out their lives together because they have married, has to be -abandoned, let it not be abandoned without the very best advocates -being heard on its behalf. - -_Anna Karénina_ contains passages: the ball, the officers' -steeplechase, the mowing, the death of Lévin's brother, and others, -which for artistic beauty are unsurpassed and, one is tempted to add, -unsurpassable. It also, towards the end, contains in admirably concise -form much of what Tolstoy has told in his _Confession_, of his quest -after the meaning of life, his thoughts of suicide, and how he learnt -from a talk with a peasant that man should live for his soul and for -God. - -His treatment in this novel of the Russian volunteers who went to -fight for Servia, was as bold a slap in the face to the Russian -jingoes, who were having things all their own way at that time, as -Campbell Bannerman's 'methods of barbarism' speech, or Sir E. Clarke's -declaration that the reassertion of England's claim to suzerainty -in the internal affairs of the Transvaal, was 'a breach of national -faith,' was to our jingoes at the time of the Boer war; but it is -curious to note the precise position that (speaking through the mouth -of Lévin) Tolstoy took up. He did not say that Russia ought not to -fight to free the Christian populations of Turkey; he merely said that -no individual Russian had any business to volunteer for the Servian or -Bulgarian army, or to take any action to urge the Russian Government -towards war. - -Of Lévin we are told: 'He, like Miháylitch and the peasants, whose -feelings are expressed in the legendary story of the invitation sent -to the Varyági by the early inhabitants of Russia, said: "Come and be -princes and rule over us. _We gladly promise complete submission._ All -labour, all humiliations, all sacrifices we take on ourselves, but _we -do not judge or decide_."' And Lévin goes on to repudiate the idea that -the Russian people have 'now renounced this privilege [the privilege, -that is, of not taking any part in Government] bought at so costly a -price.' - -The connection between the roots of Tolstoy's opinions--manifested in -these writings of his first fifty years--and his opinions in their -ultimate rigid and dogmatic form, as expressed during the last three -decades, is in general so close, the dogmas of the later period grew -so naturally out of the sympathies and experiences of the earlier -time, that this point--at which there is a clean line of cleavage (the -difference between obeying Government and disobeying it)--is worthy -of particular note. When finishing _Anna Karénina_ Tolstoy had not -yet reached the conclusion that all Governments employing force are -immoral; but his later teachings are dominated by that view. - -Apart from the special points I have referred to, the general effect -and influence of Tolstoy's fiction can hardly be summed up better than -they have been summed up by W. D. Howells, who says: - -'Up to his time fiction had been a part of the pride of life, and had -been governed by the criterions of the world which it amused. But -Tolstoy replaced the artistic conscience by the human conscience. Great -as my wonder was at the truth in his work, my wonder at the love in it -was greater yet. Here, for the first time, I found the most faithful -picture of life set in the light of that human conscience which I -had falsely taught myself was to be ignored in questions of art, as -something inadequate and inappropriate. In the august presence of the -masterpieces, I had been afraid and ashamed of the highest interests of -my nature as something philistine and provincial. But here I stood in -the presence of a master, who told me not to be ashamed of them, but to -judge his work by them, since he had himself wrought in honour of them. -I found the tests of conduct which I had used in secret with myself, -applied as the rules of universal justice, condemning and acquitting -in motive and action, and admitting none of those lawyer's pleas which -baffle our own consciousness of right and wrong. Often in Tolstoy's -ethics I feel a hardness, almost an arrogance (the word says too much); -but in his esthetics I have never felt this. He has transmuted the -atmosphere of a realm hitherto supposed unmoral into the very air of -heaven. I found nowhere in his work those base and cruel lies which -cheat us into the belief that wrong may sometimes be right through -passion, or genius, or heroism. There was everywhere the grave noble -face of the truth that had looked me in the eyes all my life, and that -I knew I must confront when I came to die. But there was something more -than this, infinitely more. There was that love which is before even -the truth, without which there is no truth, and which if there is any -last day, must appear the Divine justice.... - -'As I have already more than once said, his ethics and esthetics are -inseparably at one; and that is what gives a vital warmth to all his -art. It is never that heartless skill which exists for its own sake, -and is content to dazzle with the brilliancy of its triumphs. It seeks -always the truth, in the love to which alone the truth unveils itself. -If Tolstoy is the greatest imaginative writer who ever lived, it is -because, beyond all others, he has written in the spirit of kindness, -and not denied his own personal complicity with his art. - -'As for the scope of his work, it would not be easy to measure it, -for it seems to include all motives and actions, in good and bad, in -high and low, and not to leave life untouched at any point as it shows -itself in his vast Russian world. Its chief themes are the old themes -of art always,--they are love, passion, death, but they are treated -with such a sincerity, such a simplicity, that they seem almost new to -art, and as effectively his as if they had not been touched before.... - -'Passion, we have to learn from the great master, who here as -everywhere humbles himself to the truth, has in it life and death; but -of itself it is something, only as a condition precedent to these; -without it neither can be; but it is lost in their importance, and is -strictly subordinate to their laws. It has never been more charmingly -and reverently studied in its beautiful and noble phases than it is in -Tolstoy's fiction; though he has always dealt with it so sincerely, -so seriously. As to its obscure and ugly and selfish phases, he is -so far above all others who have written of it, that he alone seems -truly to have divined it, or portrayed it as experience knows it. He -never tries to lift it out of nature in either case, but leaves it -more visibly and palpably a part of the lowest as well as the highest -humanity.... - -'He comes nearer unriddling life for us than any other writer. He -persuades us that it cannot possibly give us any personal happiness; -that there is no room for the selfish joy of any one except as it -displaces the joy of some other, but that for unselfish joy there is -infinite place and occasion. With the same key he unlocks the mystery -of death; and he imagines so strenuously that death is neither more nor -less than a transport of self-surrender that he convinces the reason -where there can be no proof. The reader will not have forgotten how in -those last moments of earth which he has depicted, it is this utter -giving up which is made to appear the first moment of heaven. Nothing -in his mastery is so wonderful as his power upon us in the scenes of -the borderland where his vision seems to pierce the confines of another -world.' - - * * * * * - -Tolstoy of the later phase, the last three decades, with which the -second volume of this work will deal, differed from the Tolstoy of the -first fifty years; but the later Tolstoy grew out of the earlier, as -the branches of a tree grow from its roots. - -The difference lay chiefly in this: that from about the year 1878 -Tolstoy became sure of himself, succeeded in formulating his outlook on -life, and proceeded to examine and pass judgment on all the main phases -of human thought and activity. His work was sometimes hasty and often -harsh; he painted in black and white, subjects really composed of many -shades of colours; but what other man has even attempted so to examine, -to portray, and to tell the frank truth about all the greatest problems -of life and death? - -No one really concerned to leave the world better than he found it--be -his line of work what it may--can afford to ignore what Tolstoy has -said on his subject. - -No such combination of intellectual and artistic force has in our -times provoked the attention of mankind. No one has so stimulated -thought, or so successfully challenged established opinions. Tolstoy -has altered the outlook on life of many men in many lands, and has -caused some to alter not their ideas merely, but the settled habits and -customs of their lives. Only those who neither know nor understand him -at all, ever question his sincerity. - -Those who have spoken scornfully of him are those who have not taken -the trouble to understand him. On the other hand, the small minority -who swallow his opinions whole, do so under the hypnotic influence of -his force, fervour and genius. To analyse his opinions, and disentangle -what in them is true from what is false, is a task no one has yet -adequately performed, but for which the time is ripe, and which, bold -as the undertaking may be, I mean to attempt. - -Tolstoy's marvellous artistic power, his sincerity, and the love that -is so strong a feature of his work, have often been dwelt upon; but -what really gives him his supreme importance as a literary force is the -_union_ of all these things: artistic capacity, sincerity and love, -with a quite extraordinary power of intellect. - -It is not given to any man to solve all the problems of life; but no -one has made so bold and interesting an attempt to do so as Tolstoy, or -has striven so hard to make his solutions plain to every child of man. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER XII - -The literature that has grown up both in Russia and elsewhere round -Tolstoy's earlier writings is so voluminous, that I can merely indicate -a few of the best known works. - -In English we have: - -Matthew Arnold's essay: _Count Leo Tolstoi_ in _Essays in Criticism, -Second Series_: Macmillan and Co., London. - -W. D. Howells has written several very readable and excellent essays on -Tolstoy. I have unfortunately mislaid my note of them. If any American -admirer of W. D. Howells will supply me with a list, I shall be glad to -include it in any future edition of this work. - -P. Kropotkin's _Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_ gives a -very good idea of Tolstoy's general influence and relation to Russian -life and literature generally. - -In Russian: - -Mihaylovsky's articles in his collected works are interesting. - -N. Strahof's _Krititcheskiya Statyi o Tourgeneve i Tolstom_, -Petersburg, 1895, is excellent. - -V. Zelinsky's _Rousskaya Krititcheskaya Literatoura o proizvedeniyakh -L. N. Tolstovo_ (7 vols.) reprints a large collection of Russian -criticisms on Tolstoy's works. - -D. S. Merezhkovsky's _Zhizn i tvortchestvo L. N. Tolstovo i -Dostoyevskavo_ contains some acute literary criticism, but for all that -relates to Tolstoy as a man, it is worse than useless. Merezhkovsky did -not know Tolstoy personally when he wrote about him. He relied on the -works of Behrs and Anna Seuron, and even that scrappy information he -used unfairly. His talk about scents and fine linen, and in general his -whole characterisation of Tolstoy, is spiteful, and to those who know -the man attacked, it is merely ridiculous. - - - CHRONOLOGY - -_As in the text, dates are given old style, except those relating to -the Crimean War and to Tolstoy's travels abroad._ - - - 1645 Peter Tolstoy born. - - 1725 Peter Tolstoy made a Count. - - 1727 Exiled. - - 1729 Died. - - 1814 Count Nicholas Tolstoy captured by French. - - 1822 Marriage of Tolstoy's parents. - - 1828 (28 Aug. o.s.) =Birth of Leo Tolstoy.= - - 1830 Death of Leo Tolstoy's mother. - - 1837 Death of father and grandmother. Return to - Yásnaya Polyána. - - 1840 Famine Year. - - 1841 Death of the Countess Osten-Sáken. Move to Kazán. - - 1844 =Matriculates at Kazán University.= - - 1847 Leaves the University. - - 1848 Passes two examinations at Petersburg University. - - 1849 Starts Peasant Children's School at Yásnaya. - - 1851 20 April =Leaves Yásnaya for Caucasus.= - - " Aug. Goes on expedition from Starogládovsk. - - " Nov. At Tiflis; writing _Childhood_. - - " Dec. (end) =Appointed Junker.= - - 1852 Jan. Sádo's friendship. - - " Feb. Goes on expedition. - - " 2 July =Finishes _Childhood_.= - - " 28 Aug. Receives letter from Nekrásof accepting _Childhood_. - - 1852 Nov. =_Childhood_ appears in _Contemporary_.= - - " 24 Dec. _The Raid_ finished. - - 1853 Jan. Serves against Shámyl. - - " 18 Feb. Nearly killed by grenade. - - " March _The Raid_ appears in _Contemporary_. - - " 13 June Chased by Tartars. - - " July to Oct. Stays at Pyatigórsk. - - " Oct. War between Russia and Turkey. - - 1854 Jan. =Receives his commission.= - - " 2 Feb. Revisits Yásnaya Polyána. - - " End of Feb. Starts for Bucharest. - - " March War: England and France against Russia. - - " " Tolstoy reaches Bucharest. - - " June (end) Siege of Silistria abandoned. - - " Aug. Tolstoy leaves Bucharest for Russia. - - " 14 Sept. Allies land in Crimea. - - " Oct. _Boyhood_ appears in _Contemporary_. - - " 17 Oct. Bombardment of Sevastopol. - - " Nov. (end) =Tolstoy reaches Sevastopol.= - - " Dec. Stationed at Simferópol. - - 1855 Jan. _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_ published. - - " 13 April to 27 May =Serves in Sevastopol, in Fourth Bastion.= - - " June _Sevastopol in December_ published. - - " Aug. _Sevastopol in May_ published. - - " 16 Aug. In Battle of Tchérnaya. - - " Sept. _The Wood-Felling_ published. - - " 8 Sept. Maláhof captured by French. Sevastopol abandoned by - Russians. - - " Sept. Tolstoy returns to Petersburg. - - 1856 Jan. _Sevastopol in August_ published. - - " Jan. (end) Death of Demetrius Tolstoy. - - " March Russia concludes peace with England, France, and - Turkey. - - 1856 March _The Snow Storm_ published. - - " May _Two Hussars_ published. - - " Summer Engagement with V. V. A. - - " Nov. Grand Duke Michael displeased about Soldiers' Song. - - " 26 Nov. =Tolstoy leaves the army.= - - " Dec. _Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment_ - published. - - " Dec. _A Squire's Morning_ published. - - 1857 Jan. _Youth_ published. - - " 10 Feb. (N.S.) Leaves Moscow for Paris. - - " April Visits Switzerland. - - " July Stays at Lucerne. - - " Aug. Returns to Yásnaya Polyána. - - " Sept. _Lucerne_ published. - - 1858 Jan. Writes _Three Deaths_. - - " March Visits Petersburg. Helps to found Moscow Musical - Society. - - " Aug. _Albert_ published. - - " Sept. Signs Resolution of Nobles concerning Emancipation. - - " 22 Dec. Nearly killed by bear. - - 1859 Jan. _Three Deaths_ published. - - " 4 Feb. Speaks on Art to Society of Lovers of Russian - Literature. - - " April _Family Happiness_ published. - - " Winter =Organises School at Yásnaya.= - - 1860 15 July Leaves Petersburg for Berlin. - - " " Visits Auerbach in Dresden. - - " July and Aug. At Kissingen for his health. - - " 20 Sept. =Nicholas Tolstoy dies= at Hyčres. - - " Winter Visits Florence, Rome, Naples, Marseilles. - - 1861 Jan. Revisits Paris. - - " Feb. Visits London. - - " 5 May Re-enters Russia. - - 1861 26 May =Challenges Tourgénef.= - - " Commences work as =Arbiter of the Peace=. - - 1861-2 Winter =Occupied with his school.= - - 1862 Feb. =_Yásnaya Polyána_ magazine appears.= - - " May Discharged from office of Arbiter of the Peace 'on - ground of ill-health.' - - " May and Takes koumýs cure in Samára Government. - June - - " =Police raid on Yásnaya Polyána.= - - " 17 Sept. Proposes to Miss S. A. Behrs. - - " 23 " =Marries.= - - " 3 Oct. Minister of Interior disapprove of _Yásnaya Polyána_ - magazine. - - " 15 " School abandoned. - - 1863 Jan. =_The Cossacks_ published.= - - " Feb. _Polikoúshka_ published. - - " 28 June Eldest son, Sergius, born. - - 1864 _War and Peace_ commenced. - - " Sept. Dislocates arm while hunting. - - " " Collected edition of Tolstoy's works published. - - " 4 Oct. Birth of daughter, Tatiána. - - 1865 Jan. and Feb. =First part of _War and Peace_ published.= - - " Autumn Visits battlefield of Borodinó. - - 1866 May Second son, Ilyá, born. - - " June =Defends soldier at court-martial.= - - 1867 Summer Treated by Zahárin for indigestion. - - 1868 Publication of _War and Peace_ continued. - - 1869 20 May Third son Leo, born. - - " Nov. =_War and Peace_ completed.= - - 1869-70 Studies the drama. - - 1870-1 Winter Studies Greek. - - 1871 Works at _ABC_ Book. - - " 12 Feb. Birth of daughter, Mary. - - " June-July Koumýs cure in Samára. - - 1872 Jan. Re-starts school. - - =_A Prisoner in the Caucasus_ published.= - - " Feb. _God Sees the Truth_ published. - - " 13 June Son, Peter, born. - - " Sept. Confined to Yásnaya by Investigating Magistrate. - - " Nov. =_ABC_ Book published.= - - 1872-3 Winter Prepares to write novel of Peter the Great's time. - - 1873 May Goes with family to Samára. - - " 17 Aug. =Samára Famine; Tolstoy's appeal.= - - " Sept. Kramskóy paints his portrait. - - " 9 Nov. Death of son, Peter. - - 1874 15 Jan. =Speaks on Learning to Read.= - - " 22 April Son, Nicholas, born. - - " 20 June Death of Aunt Tatiána. - - " Sept. Publishes article, _On Popular Education_. - - 1875 20 Feb. Death of son, Nicholas. - - " _New ABC_ Book published. - - " Jan.-April =First Installment of _Anna Karénina_ published.= - - " Summer Horse races at Samára. - - " 1 Nov. Baby daughter, Varvára, born and died. - - " Dec. Death of Pelagéya I. Úshkof. - - 1876 Jan.-April Further instalments of _Anna Karénina_. - and Dec. - - " Observes Church rites and fasts. - - " Sept. Visit to Samára and Orenbourg. - - 1877 Jan.-April =Final Installments of _Anna Karénina_ published.= - - " Rupture with Katkóf. - - 1877 6 Dec. Son, Andrew, born. - - 1878 March Visits Petropávlof Fortress. - - " Abandons _The Decembrists_. - - " May =Reconciliation with Tourgénef.= - - " 7 Aug. Tourgénef at Yásnaya Polyána. - - - - -INDEX - - - _ABC_ Book, 339, 341, 342, 344-348, 359, 360. - - ----Tourgénef's comment on, 347. - - Active service, military, 86, 99, 110, 119. - - Aim when writing novels, 430. - - Aksákof, S. T., 175, 310. - - _Albert_, 52, 166. - - Alexander II, Tsar, 180, 287, 379. - - Alexándra Fédorovna, Empress, 111. - - Alexéyef, V. G., 395, 396. - - Alexis, Tolstoy's servant, 32, 111, 284, 285. - - ----Tsarévitch, 2, 349. - - Algebra, 355. - - Ambrose, Father, 384. - - Anarchism, peaceful, 58, 139. - - Ancestry, 1-7, 14. - - Animals, kindness to, 28, 307. - - _Anna Karénina_, 289, 349, 357, 360, 361, 371, 372, 381, 438-445. - - ----characters in, 289, 349. - - ----impression produced in Russia by, 441. - - ----Matthew Arnold's comments on, 438-440. - - ----W. D. Howells' comments on, 440, 441, 445-447. - - ----Kropótkin's comments on, 441-443. - - ----Tourgénef's comments on, 361. - - Ant Brotherhood, 18, 19. - - Appearance, personal, 7, 26, 64. - - Arbiter of the Peace, 211, 226-229, 283. - - Arboúzof's _Recollections_, 370. - - Arithmetic in _ABC_ Book, 341, 359. - - Arm dislocated, 302, 303. - - Army, enters the, 65, 76. - - ----leaves, 152. - - ----becomes an officer in, 91. - - Arnold, Matthew: comments on _Anna Karénina_, 438-440. - - Art, talk with peasant boys about, 257, 258. - - ----thoughts on, 186, 275-277, 296, 333, 377, 405. - - ----what is it? 260. - - Artistic capacity of peasants, 275. - - ----element in Literature, speech on the, 185. - - Artists, Tolstoy's criticism of, 163, 164. - - Astronomy, studies, 341. - - Auerbach, B., 194, 212. - - Aunt Tatiána. See _Tatiána_. - - Austria's pressure on Russia, 97. - - Authors, Tolstoy's criticism of the, 162-165. - - Autobiographical, 10, 14, 17, 18, 20, 21, 24, 26, 28, 31, 34, 39-50, - 53, 54, 59-77, 81-84, 89, 90, 95-104, 106-111, 128, 130, 148, 150, - 152, 153-155, 160, 161, 162, 167-173, 175, 177-180, 182, 189, 192, - 198, 200, 202, 212, 214, 224, 228, 252, 254, 263, 269, 272, 282-284, - 286, 288, 291, 293, 294, 296, 298, 300, 303, 304, 325-327, 333, 337, - 359, 365, 383, _and whole of chap._ xi. - - - BĆDEKER, preacher, 413. - - _Bárstchina_ explained, 225. - - Baryatínsky, General, 65. - - Bashkírs, Tolstoy and the, 335-337. - - Bastion, the Fourth, 110, 113, 114, 117. - - Bastions, clears Fifth and Sixth, 121. - - See also _Sevastopol_. - - _Bear Hunt_, The, 342. - - Bear-hunt, a, 183-185. - - Bee-keeping, 296. - - Beethoven, comment on, 276, 377-378. - - Behrs family, the, 149, 284, 288, 290. - - ----Miss S. A. See _Tolstoy, Countess S. A._ - - ----S. A. (_brother-in-law_), 297, 332, 335, 390. - - ----comments on Tolstoy by, 324, 387, 390, 436. - - ----Tánya (Tánitchka; _sister-in-law_), 305. - - Belbék, transferred to, 110, 111. - - Beliefs, religious, 38-39, 162, chap. xi. - - Berlin, in, 193, 194. - - Bible, the, 263-267. - - Billiards, Chinese, 284. - - Birth, Tolstoy's, 9. - - Boarding schools condemned, 235. - - Bolkónskys, the (_War and Peace_), 434, 435. - - Books for the people, 263, 267, 277, 339. - - ----that influenced Tolstoy, 31, 44, 45, 160. - - Borodinó, visit to battlefield of, 306. - - Bótkin, V. P., 161, 168, 174, 316. - - ----'s comment on _War and Peace_, 315. - - ----'s criticism of Tolstoy, 223. - - Boúlka (dog), 88, 89. - - Boutleróf, A. M., Professor, 383. - - _Boyhood_, 31, 91. - - ----Tolstoy's criticism of, 160. - - Bravery, 64. - - Bucharest, in, 95, 96. - - Buckle, criticism of, 240. - - Buddha, on Life, 407, 409. - - Buddhism, study of, 412. - - Bulgarian insurrection, 379. - - Bull kills keeper, 345. - - - _Captain's Daughter, The_, 161, 430. - - Cards. See _Gambling_. - - Caucasus, in the (see chap. iii.). - - ----descriptions of the, 61-63. - - ----fighting in the, 61, 87. - - Censor, the, 86, 131, 132. - - Charity, 216. - - Chastity, advocacy of, 13. - - Chess, 77, 119, 193, 389. - - Chevet's system of Music, 167, 271. - - _Childhood_, 22, 26, 65, 83, 86. - - ----Tolstoy's criticism of, 160. - - Children, Tolstoy's, 295, 303, 310, 317, 320, 331, 340, 344, 352, 357, - 360, 363, 366, 385. - - ----education of, 317-320, 366, 385. - - ----governesses, 318, 366. - - ----punishments of, 318, 319. - - ----and the servants, 318. - - ----taught music, 366. - - ----painting, 366. - - ----teach in peasant schools, 340. - - ----Tolstoy's tact with, 204, 205, 206, 307. - - ----toys, 318. - - Christian and Greek ideals, 332, 333. - - Christianity, study of, 412. - - Christ's Hospital, education at, 279. - - Church, the Orthodox, 39, 40, 413, 419, 420, 424, 437. - - Church ceremonial, 343, 369. - - Clarens, at, 168, 170. - - Coat of arms, 2. - - Collates Artillery Commanders' reports, 121. - - Colony, agricultural, in Kansas, 396. - - Communion, Tolstoy takes, 290, 421. - - Composition, how to teach, 272, 275. - - Comte, 396, 397. - - _Confession_, Tolstoy's, 24, 39, 40, 53, 162-165, 167, 202, 203, - 282-284, 298, 391, 394. (See also chap. xi.) - - Consumptive tendencies, 156, 284. - - _Contemporary, The_, 83, 138, 148, 182, 354. - - ----Contributors to, 138, 139, 142. - - Contradict, readiness to, 143. - - Conversion, 394, 398. - - _Copperfield, David_, 44, 45, 90. - - Corporal punishment, 13, 14, 26. - - _Cossacks, The_, 78, 79, 189, 284, 295, 296. - - _Cossacks, The_, Tourgénef's comment on, 296, 393. - - Cossacks, 78-80. - - Count, origin of Tolstoy's title, 2. - - Country life, love of, 308. - - Courier to Petersburg, 122. - - Court-martial, 310-312. - - Crimean War, chap. iv. - - ----cause of, 94. - - - DAILY routine, 320. - - Dates, Russian, 9. - - Death, thoughts on, 342. - - ----first experience of, 23, 24. - - Death of baby girl, 366. - - ----baby Nicholas, 360. - - ----Bótkin, V. P., 316. - - ----Demetrius Tolstoy, 44, 147. - - ----Father and Grandmother, 23, 24. - - ----keeper by bull, 345. - - ----Nicholas Tolstoy, 197-203. - - ----Peter, baby, 352. - - ----Tatiána A. Ergolsky, 358-359. See also _Tatiána_. - - ----P. I. Úshkof, 369. See also _Úshkof_. - - Debts, 48, 49, 53, 55, 71, 72, 284. - - _Decembrists, The_, 145, 299, 386. - - Decembrists, the, 14, 386. - - Defiance of accepted opinions, 140. - - Demetrius Tolstoy. See _Tolstoy, Demetrius_. - - Democratic government, advantages of, 144. - - Democratic institutions, scorn for, 145. - - Dentists, 208. - - _Diary_, 37, 53, 81, 83, 148, 161, 167, 172, 173, 187, 189, 200, - 212, 220, 228, 285, 286, 288, 289, 290, 309. - - Dickens's influence on Tolstoy, 46. - - Diesterweg, educationalist, 213. - - Digestive troubles, 293. - - Dijon, at, 166. - - Dissipation, 52, 92, 97, 127, 140, 161, 162. - - Divorce question, the, 441-443. - - Doctors, dislike of, 313, 369. - - Documents, carelessness with, 51, 65, 85. - - Dogs, his, 88. - - Dostoyévsky, S. A., 84. - - Drama, Tolstoy and the, 297, 326, 327. - - Drawing, 310. - - ----lessons, 269, 270. - - Dresden, in, 194. - - Dress, elegance in, 35, 173. - - ----simplicity, 309. - - Drouzhínin, A. V., 148, 156, 157, 158, 168. - - ----criticises Tolstoy's style, 159. - - ----criticises _Youth_, 158. - - ----letter from, 190. - - Duel, a. See _Tourgénef_. - - Dumas _pčre_, as novelist, 208. - - ----educational influence, 207. - - Dyákof, D. A., 37, 306, 321. - - - EDUCATION, 230-239. See also _School_. - - ----at Christ's Hospital, 279. - - ----criticism of, 232, 233. - - ----definition of, 231. - - ----evening lectures, 194. - - ----false bases of, 232. - - ----speech on, 353. - - ----Tolstoy's, 28. - - ----children's, 317-320, 366, 385. - - ----Tolstoy's method of, 278, 353. - - ----the right to reject, 235. - - ----Zémstvo Committee of, 356. - - Educational systems, Tolstoy studies: - - ----in England, 194, 210. - - ----Kissingen, 195. - - ----Marseilles, 206, 207. - - ----Saxony, 194. - - ----Weimar, 212. - - ----system in Germany, criticised, 233. - - ----work, Tolstoy on his own, 282, 283. - - Emancipation of the serfs, 180-182, 226, 299. - - ----Tolstoy's attitude towards, 223-225. - - Engagement with V. V. A., 150-155. - - Epicureans and life, 408. - - Epitaph, an, 382. - - Érgolsky, T. A. See _Tatiána, Aunt_. - - Estate buying, 300, 337, 359. - - ----management, 306, 323, 345. - - ----searched, 285-288. - - Eucharist, Tolstoy receives the, 290, 419. - - Eugene Baumann, 194. - - Evangelicals, the, 413. - - Examinations, Tolstoy's, 33, 34, 35, 49, 50, 65. - - Execution, an, 167, 312. - - Executions, the Church and, 424. - - Exercise, physical, 84, 128, 173, 308, 367. See also _Gymnastics_. - - - FABLE, an Eastern, 404. - - Fame, thoughts on, 129, 183, 401. - - _Family Happiness_, 185. - - Famines caused by the Church, 437. - - Famine Fund, Samára, 350, 351. - - Famines, 30, 304, 350. - - Farming, 179, 192, 294, 296, 304. - - Fasts, Tolstoy, 419. - - _Fatherland Journal, The_, 152, 354, 355. - - _Father Sergius_, 384. - - _Faust_ (Tourgénef's), 156. - - Fédka, literary genius of, 272-274. - - ----walk with, a, 254-260. - - Fet, A. A., 139, 141, 176, 215, 219, 222, 304, 312, 321, 322, 330. - - ----letters to, from Tolstoy, 179, 180, 182, 188, 192, 200, 214, - 217, 291, 293, 300, 303, 312, 315, 325, 326, 330, 331, 333, 337, - 342, 344, 351, 352, 359, 360, 361, 365, 366, 371, 372, 373, 374, - 380, 381, 382, 383, 385, 386, 387, 388, 391, 392. - - ----in rhyme to, 347. - - ----Literary Evening in aid of Famine Fund, 314. - - ----'s poems, Tolstoy's admiration of, 374. - - ----Tolstoy's criticism of, 322, 387, 391. - - ----visits Tolstoy, 293-295, 314. - - Fet, Peter A., 373. - - _First Step, The_, 209. - - 'Flock for the shepherd, a,' 234. - - Fly, attempts to, 25. - - Folk-Songs and Tales, 376-378, 384. - - Fort Grózny, at, 86. - - Fourth Bastion, in the, 110-117. - - Franco-Prussian War, 330, 331. - - Freedom of Russian nobles, 55. - - French language, the, 176. - - ----people, the, 207, 331. - - Froebel, Julius, 195. - - Future Life, thoughts on, 202, 340. - - - GAMBLING, 53, 54, 68, 69, 110, 140, 284. - - ----reflections on, 81. - - Garnett, Mrs. C., 360, 440. - - 'Generalship in Literature,' his, 436. - - Geneva, in, 168. - - Geniality and good humour, 204, 334, 336, 367. - - '_Gens comme il faut_,' preference for, 41, 60, 97. - - Geography, 33, 269. - - Georgia, 61. - - Gipsy girl singers, 52, 55, 59, 140, 178. - - God, 'There is no,' 24. - - ----thoughts on, 73, 189, 190, 371, 416-418. - - _God sees the Truth, But Waits_, 342. - - Gógol, 428. - - Gortchakóf, Prince M. D., 90, 95, 100, 104, 118. - - Gouneba (stallion), 374. - - Government approves Tolstoy's schemes, 292, 360. - - ----Tolstoy's dislike of, 43, 229, 288, 312, 357. - - Grammar in schools, 268. - - ----schools, 367. - - Grebénsky Cossacks, 78. - - Greek and Christian ideals contrasted, 332, 333. - - Greek, Tolstoy learns, 331-333. - - ----Church. See _Church_. - - Grigoróvitch, D. V., 140, 141. - - Gymnasiums, Russian, 367. - - Gymnastics, 173, 179, 205, 261, 308. - - - HÁDJI Mourát, 66. - - _Handwerksverein, der_, 194. - - Hapgood, Miss I., 301. - - Happiness, plans for future, 74, 75, 76. - - ----thoughts on, 79, 80, 83, 447. - - Hay saved by personal exertions, 299. - - Hegel, criticism of, 239. - - Heresy, on, 423. - - Hermit, visit to a, 365. - - Herodotus, 332, 337. - - Herzegovina, 373. - - Herzen, Alexander, 143, 208, 209. - - Historian, Tolstoy as, 432. - - History, criticism of, 36, 268. - - ----how to teach, 268, 269. - - Home, love of, 323. - - Homer, 332. - - Homyakóf, A. S., 185. - - Honesty, 126, 127. - - ----of peasants, 243, 244. - - Horse-breeding, 362, 373. - - Horse-race at Samára, 364. - - House of Commons, 211. - - ----sale of, 111. - - 'Hundred and Ninety-three, The,' trial of 394, 395, 397. - - Hunting, 66, 90, 183-185, 230, 302, 305, 309. See also _Shooting_. - - ----accident, 184, 185, 302, 303. - - _Hussars, Two_, 149, 157, 361. - - Hyčres, at, 197, 203. - - - _Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_ (Kropótkin), 441. - - _Iliad_, appreciation of the, 172. - - Incarcerated, 35. - - Inconsistency, 50. - - Infant Schools condemned, 235. - - _Infected Family, The_, 297. - - _Introduction to a Criticism of Dogmatic Theology._ See _Confession_. - - Irritability, 140, 141. - - - JUNKER, becomes a, 65. - - ----'s life in the Caucasus, a, 79, 80. - - Jury, serves on, 330. - - - KANSAS, Agricultural Colony, 396. - - Kant, 416. - - Karalýk, at, 285, 335-337. - - Katkóf, M. N., 174, 284. - - Kazán, life in, 32-35. - - ----University, 32, 33. - - Keller, 212. - - Kiesewetter (_Resurrection_), 413. - - Kinglake, historian of the Crimean War, 133, 134. - - _King Lear_, Drouzhínin and, 157. - - Kissingen, at, 195. - - _Knyaz_, meaning of, 3. - - Kock, Paul de, 208. - - _Kólokol_, 208. - - Koran, 338, 385. - - Kornílof, Admiral, 105, 106, 118. - - _Kotchévka_, 335. - - _Koumýs_ cure, 284, 306, 333. - - _Kounák_, 69. - - Kramskóy paints portrait of Tolstoy, 351, 352. - - Kropótkin, P., 397, 441-443. - - ----comments on _Anna Karénina_, 434, 436. - - ----_Sevastopol_, 133. - - ----_Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_, 441. - - Kryzhanóvsky, General, 127, 373. - - - LAND, the, 188, 215. - - Languages, 129, 331. - - ----Oriental, studies, 33. - - Lao-Tsze, 358. - - _Lautiermethode_, 353. - - Law, studies, 135. - - Lelewel, Polish author, 211. - - Leóntief, Professor, 332. - - Lévin (_Anna Karénina_), 289, 444. - - Life in danger, Tolstoy's, 86, 87, 110. - - Lisogoúb, D., 397. - - Literature as an occupation, 65, 82, 109, 305. - - ----'A General in,' 436. - - ----its importance in Russia, 190. - - Literacy, Moscow Society of, speech to the, 353, 354. - - Lives of the Saints, the, 422. - - London, in, 194, 208. - - Love affairs, 26, 79, 149-155, 288-290. - - _Lucerne_, 171, 429. - - Lucerne, in, 170, 171. - - Luther, Martin, 196. - - Luxury, dislike of, 309, 317. - - - MACAULAY criticised, 239. - - Magazine, Tolstoy's. See _Yásnaya Polyána_. - - Maláhof, capture of the, 119-121. - - Mariána, 79, 91. - - Marie (Másha or Mary) Tolstoy (_sister_). See _Tolstoy_. - - ----Tolstoy (_daughter_). See _Tolstoy_. - - ----Volkónsky, Princess, (_mother_). See _Tolstoy_. - - Marriage, 290. - - Marriage question, the, 441-443. - - Marryat's novels, 281. - - Marseilles, in, 206. - - Márya Gerásimovna, 9, 22. - - Masquerades, 309, 340. - - _Master and Man_, 91. - - Matriculates, 33. - - Maude, A., letter to, 301. - - _Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance_, 157. - - _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_, 91, 157. - - Ménshikof, Prince, 2, 3. - - ----Alexander, 105, 122-124. - - Metaphysics, 407. - - Michael, Grand Duke, 152. - - Middle-classes, Tolstoy's ignorance of, 436, 437. - - Middle period of Tolstoy's life, 298. - - Mihaylóvsky, N. K., 354, 355, 395. - - Military newspaper projected, 108, 109. - - Mill, J. S., 396, 397. - - Mineral waters, a course of, 81, 313. - - Miracles, 417. - - Moabit Prison, visit to, 194. - - Mohammedanism, studies, 412. - - Molokáns, 338, 423. - - _Moscow Gazette, The_, 350. - - Moscow Conservatoire, the, 175, 375. - - ----Fifty, trial of the, 394. - - ----Society of Lovers of Russian Literature, 185. - - _Mother Vólga_ (song), 276. - - Mouhamed Shah, 350, 362. - - Mouravyóf, N. N., 432. - - Mowing, 367. - - Murder of Countess Tolstoy, 256. - - Music, Chevet's method of teaching, 167, 271. - - ----his children learn, 366. - - ----love of, 51, 52, 175, 306, 320, 374-376. - - ----method of teaching, 271. - - Musical notation, 271. - - - NAPOLEON I, 431. - - ----III, 95, 133. - - Nature, delight in, 86, 169, 170, 175, 308. - - Nekrásof, N. A., 83, 132, 138, 141, 166, 172. - - ----comments on _The Wood-felling_ and _Sevastopol_, 132, 133. - - _Neues Leben, Ein_ (Auerbach), 194. - - _New ABC_ Book, 360. - - New Religion, would found a, 130. - - Newspaper, projected military, 108, 109. - - Newspapers, dislike of, 325, 379. - - Nicholas, baby, 357. - - Nicholas I, 94. - - Nicholas Tolstoy. See _Tolstoy_. - - _Nihilist, The_, 297. - - 'Not Born to be Like Everybody Else,' 81. - - Novel writing, 65, 188. - - 'Numidian cavalry,' the, 369. - - - OBOLÉNSKY, Prince D. D., 310, 323, 345, 384. - - _Obrók_, 224, 225. - - Officers, relations with, 63, 82, 127. - - Ogaryóf, N. P., 209, 210. - - Old style calendar, 9. - - Old Testament, the, 263-267. - - Oltenítza, in, 96. - - _On the Eve_ (Tourgénef), 188. - - Óptin's Hermitage, 30, 384. - - Orenbourg, at, 362, 373. - - Oriental languages, studies, 33. - - Originality, 27. - - Osten-Saken, Count, 5. - - ----Countess A. I. (_aunt_), 29, 30. - - Ostróvsky, A. N., 189. - - Ouroúsof, Prince L. D., 321, 331. - - Ouspénsky, N. V., 253. - - - PALMERSTON, Lord, 211. - - Panáef, V. I., 84, 138, 161. - - ----comments on _Sevastopol in May_, 131. - - Paris, in, 166, 167, 207, 208. - - Parliament, 211. - - Pascal, B., _Pensées_, 383. - - Páshenka, 29. - - Patriotism, 322. - - Peasants' artistic capacity, 275, 378. - - Pedagogic tact, 279. - - Penmanship, 267, 268. - - _Pensées_, by Pascal, 383. - - Peróvsky, Sophie, 397. - - Petersburg, in, 48, 50, 138, 139, 151, 173, 386. - - Peter, baby, 344, 352. - - ----the Great, 2, 348. - - ----proposed novel of period of, 344, 348. - - ----study of period of, 344, 348. - - ----Tolstoy. See _Tolstoy_. - - Petropávlof Fortress, visits, 386. - - Petróvsky Fair, 336, 365. - - Physical exercises, expertness in, 84, 128, 173, 309, 367. - - Piano-playing, 52, 290, 320, 375. - - Pilgrims and saints, 9, 22, 29, 394. - - Pláksin, Sergéy, 204. - - _Plays_, 297, 327. - - Police search at Yásnaya Polyána, 285-288. - - _Polikoúshka_, 211, 295, 296. - - ----Tourgénef's comment on, 297. - - Polish insurrection (1863), 296. - - Portrait by Kramskóy, 351, 352. - - Posthumous publications, 66, 384. - - Poúshkin, 131, 138, 161, 428. - - Prayer, 39, 64, 71, 91, 117, 370, 420. - - Prayer, answer to, 68, 72. - - Prince, the Russian title, 3. - - Printing, questions the utility of, 226. - - _Prisoner in the Caucasus, A_, 86, 341, 342. - - ----Tourgénef's comment on, 347. - - Prisoners, Turkish, a visit to, 385. - - Prisons, visits to: the Moabit, 194. - - ----Petropávlof Fortress, 386. - - Progress, thoughts on, 226, 239-245, 283. - - Promotion, slow, 85. - - Propaganda, social and political, 397. - - Proposal by initials, to Miss S. A. Behrs, 289. - - ----formal, 290. - - Proudhon, visit to, 211. - - Public speeches by Tolstoy, 185, 311, 353. - - Punishment of his children, 318. - - Pyatigórsk, in, 81, 88. - - - QUESTION-BOXES, 194. - - - RACES on Samára estate, 364. - - _Raid, The_, 77, 85, 86. - - Railways, aversion to, 241-242, 334. - - Raven (horse), 27, 28. - - Read, Is it worth learning to? 277. - - _Readers_, Slavonic and Russian, 339, 341, 359, 427. - - Reading lessons, 262. - - ----practical demonstration of teaching, 354. - - _Reading Library, The_, 148. - - _Recollections of Count Tolstoy_ (Behrs), 297, 367. - - Reforms in Russia, 144. - - ----want of sympathy with, 144, 225, 230. - - Religion, on, 130, 338, 343. - - ----wishes to found a, 130. - - Religious beliefs, 38, 39, 162. - - Reports, collates military, 121. - - Review, a military, 84. - - Revolutionary movement, 394-397. - - Riding lesson, first, 27. - - _Right and Left Hand of Count Tolstoy, The_, 395. - - Rousseau, J. J., 46, 229. - - Rubinstein, Nicholas, 175, 375, 384. - - Rudolph, musician, 52, 167. - - Rules of conduct, 38, 39, 88. - - Russo-Turkish Wars, the, 91, 95, 373. See also _Crimean War_. - - - SÁDO, 69-73, 87. - - St. George's Cross, 76, 77. - - Sakya Muni, 407. - - Sale of house, 111. - - Saltykóf, M. E., (Stchedrín), 174, 354. - - Samára, buys estates in, 300, 337, 359. - - ----famine in, 350, 351. - - ----in, 284, 285, 334, 345, 350, 356, 362, 388. - - Samárin, P. F., 346, 356. - - Sand, George, hostility to, 142, 320. - - School, the Yásno-Polyána, 52, 187, 230, 246-254, 261, 278, 292, 340. - - ----external disorder in, 248. - - ----a fight in, 249. - - ----punishment, 251, 252. - - ----theft, a, 251, 252. - - Schools, 230-239, 283. - - ----boarding, 234. - - ----infant, 235. - - ----Tolstoy inspects, 194, 206. See also _Education_. - - Schopenhauer, on, 315, 416. - - ----on Life, 407, 411, 416. - - _Schwarzwälder Dorfgeschichten_, 195, 212. - - Sculptor, Tolstoy as, 310. - - Scythians, 337. - - Search of estate by police, 285-288. - - Self-depreciation, 162, 298. - - ----perfecting, 37, 38, 47, 48, 49, 52, 88. - - Sensuality, thoughts on, 81. - - Sequel, the, 447. - - Serfdom, 211, 224, 433. - - Serfs, emancipation of the. See _Emancipation_. - - ----relations with the, 21, 43, 47, 158, 188, 227. - - Sergius Tolstoy (_brother_). See _Tolstoy_. - - Servants, relations with, 308, 318, 323. - - _Sevastopol_ 112, 116, 130, 429. - - ----the Censor and, 131. - - ----comments on, by Kropótkin, 133. - - ----Tourgénef, 133. - - ----English edition of, 135, 301. - - _Sevastopol in August_, 119, 157. - - _Sevastopol in December_, 111, 131. - - _Sevastopol in May_, 130, 131. - - Sevastopol, map of, 112. - - ----Fourth Bastion, in, 110-117. - - ----Siege of, 106-109, 112-117. - - ----situation in, 105. - - ----Star Fort, the, 119. - - ----Tolstoy reaches, 104. - - ----truce, a, 134. - - Shámyl, 61, 66, 86. - - Shooting, Tolstoy goes, 84, 85, 90, 304-305, 336. - - Shyness, 129, 130. - - _Si jeunesse savait_, 179. - - Silistria, recollections of siege, 97-104. - - Simplicity, 84. - - Sincerity, disbelief in others', 143. - - ----his own, 51, 448. - - Singer at Lucerne, 171. - - Singing lessons, 167, 270, 271. - - Slavophilism, 160, 161. - - Sleep, respect for, 325. - - _Smoke_, comments on, 313. - - _Snow Storm, The_, 91, 157. - - Socialism, 395-397. - - Social tact, 129. - - Society, organisation of, 434. - - Socrates on Life, 407-409. - - Sokólniki, at, 59. - - Soldier, pleads for life of, 311. - - ----popular sympathy for, 312. - - Soldiers' Song, 122-126, 152. - - Solomon, 407, 409, 411. - - South Kensington, at, 194. - - Spiritualism, 82. - - Sportsman, Tolstoy, the, 66, 84, 85, 90, 183-185, 230, 302, 304-305, - 306-309, 336. - - Sports, organises, 364. - - Spring, influence of, 175. - - _Squire's Morning, A_, 47, 158. - - ----Tourgénef's comment on, 158. - - Staff-officers, disapproval of, 118. - - Stallion (Gouneba), 374. - - Star Fort, the, 119. - - Starogládovsk, in, 61, 64, 76, 78. - - Stáry Urt, 68. - - State service, 43. - - Stchedrín, 174, 354. - - Stendhal, 93. - - Stolýpin, 108, 285. - - Story-teller, an itinerant, 384. - - Stráhof, N. N., 321, 326, 344, 383, 384. - - Strength, great physical, 367, 369, 403. - - Strenuousness, 323. - - Style, Drouzhínin criticises Tolstoy's, 159. - - Suicide, thoughts of, 402, 406, 410, 418. - - ----in _Anna Karénina_, 349. - - Syómka and Fédka, literary genius of, 272, 274. - - ----walk with, 254-260. - - - 'TAKE care of that young man,' 111. - - Tartar warfare, 77. - - Tatiána, Aunt, 13, 17, 29, 31, 52, 59, 154, 176-179, 295, 358, 359. - - ----letters to, 59, 61, 65, 66, 73, 76, 82, 84, 95, 96, 98, 109, - 152, 153, 168, 195, 198, 212, 285. - - ----peasants' opinion of, 358. - - Tchaykóvsky, N., 396, 397. - - Tchérnaya, battle of the, 119. - - Tchitchérin, B. N., 174. - - Teach, What must I? 163, 235-238. - - ----How must I? 238-239, 263-271. - - Telegraph, peasants and the, 176. - - ----Tolstoy's criticism of, 240-242. - - Temeshóf, Doúnetchka, 20, 21. - - 'Temple of Science,' the, 36. - - Tennyson, 135. - - 'Tests' himself, 151, 154. - - Theodore Ivánitch (Rössel), 12, 17, 18. - - Thought reading, 289, 290. - - _Three Deaths_, 174, 186, 357. - - _Three Hermits, The_, 384. - - Titles of nobility, Russian, 3. - - Todleben, 105, 118. - - Tolstoy, Alexandra A. (_aunt_), 174, 175, 196, 286, 351. - - ----letter to, 175. - - ----Alexis, 4. - - ----Andrew (_son_), 385. - - ----Dmítry (_cousin_), 4. - - ----Demetrius (Dmítry or Mítenka; _brother_), 20, 28, 41, 42, 43, - 148. - - ----relations with serfs, 43. - - ----Elias (_grandfather_), 3, 4, 5. - - ----Ilyá, 64. - - ----(_son_), 310. - - ----Leo (_son_), 317. - - ----Marie (_mother_), 5, 9. - - ----Mary (_daughter_), 331. - - ----(Marie or Másha; _sister_), 9, 75, 82, 83, 84, 153, 173, 177, - 285, 288, 289, 304. - - ----Nicholas, I (_father_), 4, 5, 6, 21, 23. - - ----(Nikólenka; _brother_), 18, 42, 55, 60, 61, 191-193, 196-203. - - ----letter to, 98. - - ----(_son_), 357, 360. - - ----Peter, 1, 2, 3. - - ----(_son_), 344, 352. - - ----S. A. (_wife_), 149, 289-296, 302-303, 317, 340, 344, 348, 368, - 385. - - ----letters from, to S. A. Behrs, 348, 356. - - ----Sergius (Sergéy or Seryózha; _brother_), 19, 20, 28, 41, 42, - 196, 305. - - ----letters to, 48, 89, 90, 106, 110, 148, 150, 152, 198. - - ----L. (_son_), 295, 303, 340, 366, 389. - - ----Tatiána L. (_daughter_), 303, 320, 340, 366. - - ----family and servants, the, 21, 22, 318. - - ----name, the, 1, 9. - - ----spelling of, 9. - - Tourgénef, 84, 133, 139-141, 149, 166, 168, 189, 190, 193, 214-223, - 303, 338, 339, 357, 388, 389-393, 428. - - ----challenged by Tolstoy, 166, 217. - - ----challenges Tolstoy, 219. - - ----comments on _ABC_ Book, 347. - - ----_Anna Karénina_, 361. - - ----_Cossacks, The_, 296, 393. - - ----_Polikoúshka_, 297. - - ----_Sevastopol_, 133. - - Tourgénef, comments on _Squire's Morning, A_, 158. - - ----_War and Peace_, 314. - - ----letters to Fet, 190, 220, 221, 296, 338, 339, 357. - - ----in verse, 187. - - ----Tolstoy, 155, 156, 217, 218, 388. - - ----on Tolstoy, 338, 339, 392, 393. - - ----reconciliation with Tolstoy, 388-391. - - ----'s Faust, 156. - - ----'s _On the Eve_, Tolstoy's criticism of, 188. - - ----'s _Smoke_, Tolstoy's criticism of, 313. - - ----Tolstoy's quarrel with, 216-223. - - ----translations with Mme. Viardot. See _Viardot_. - - 'Towards the People' Movement, the, 394. - - Training College for Teachers, a, 347, 355, 356. - - Translations, 301, 440. - - Traveller in the Well, The, 404. - - Tree-planting, 313. - - 'Trials of the Pen,' 300, 303. - - Trollope, A., 320. - - Troubetskóy, Princess Catherine (_grandmother_), 6. - - 'Tsar-Liberator,' the, 225. - - Tsar, prayers for the, 420. - - Tschaikóvsky, P. I., 375-377. - - ----letter to, 376. - - Turkey, war with, 379. - - Turkish prisoners in Tóula, 385. - - Turks, ferocity of, 103. - - _Twenty-three Tales_, 342, 384. - - _Two Hussars_, 157, 361. - - - UFANIZING. See _Farming_. - - Universities, dislike of, 36, 235. - - University degree, failure to take, 37, 51. - - '----in bark shoes,' a, 347, 355, 356. - - ----studies at Kazán, 32-37. - - ----at Petersburg, 48, 50. - - Unmethodical habits, 51, 65, 85. - - Úshkof, P. I. (_aunt_), 31, 369. - - ----V. I., 4, 31. - - - VANITY, thoughts on, 81. - - Varvára Engelhardt, 6, 7. - - Viardot, Madame, 357, 361. - - Vólga, journey down the, 285, 334. - - _Vólga, Mother_ (song), 276. - - Volkónsky, Prince Nicholas (_grandfather_), 6, 7. - - ----S. G., 386. - - ----Princess (_mother's cousin_), 174. - - ----Marie (_mother_), 5. - - Voltaire, influence of, 47. - - V. V. A., love affair with, 150-155. - - - WALKING, love of, 204, 308, 309. - - ----tour, 168-170. - - _War and Peace_, 303, 304, 309, 314, 317, 395, 430. - - ----characters in, 304, 435, 436. - - ----preparations for, 300. - - ----Tolstoy's comment on, 303. - - ----Bótkin's comment on, 315. - - ----Tourgénef's comment on, 314, 315. - - War, active service in, 86, 99, 110, 119. - - ----the Church and, 424. - - ----horror of, 78, 137. - - ----thoughts on, 133, 135, 136, 432. - - Wealth, 243, 244. - - Weimar, in, 211, 212. - - _What is Art?_ 260, 342, 378, 430. - - _What Men Live By_, 384. - - Wife. See _Tolstoy, S. A._ - - Wine, on, 137. - - 'Wishes to be great,' 183. - - Women, relations with, 40, 44, 52. - - _Wood-Felling, The_, 77, 130, 131, 132. - - Wood, Mrs. Henry, 320. - - Works, first collected edition of, 300. - - ----list of, 427. - - ----published before _War and Peace_, list of, 301. - - Writer, Tolstoy the, 441, 445-447. - - Writers, criticism, of the, 162-165. - - Writing lessons, 268. - - - _Yásnaya Polyána_, magazine, 231, 242, 246, 291, 292. - - Yásnaya Polyána, house and estate, 16, 111, 309. - - Yásno-Polyána School, Chap. VIII. - See also _School_. - - _Youth_, 130, 156, 158, 160. - - ----criticised by Drouzhínin, 158, 159. - - ----by Tolstoy, 160. - - - ZAHÁRIN, Professor, 313. - - Zémstvo, elected to the, 251. - - -Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the -Edinburgh University Press - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the -original. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY: FIRST FIFTY -YEARS*** - - -******* This file should be named 52242-8.txt or 52242-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/2/4/52242 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/52242-8.zip b/old/52242-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c358985..0000000 --- a/old/52242-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h.zip b/old/52242-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 77639a2..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/52242-h.htm b/old/52242-h/52242-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 6b4bff0..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/52242-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,22575 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> -<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Life of Tolstoy: First Fifty Years, by Aylmer Maude</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3{ - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; - line-height: 2; -} - -h1 {margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} - -h2 {margin-top: 4em; margin-bottom: 1em;} - -h3 {margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: .75em; text-align: left;} - - -p { - margin-top: .75em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .75em; - } - - .p2 {margin-top: 2em;} - .p4 {margin-top: 4em;} - .p6 {margin-top: 6em;} - -.poetry-container -{ - text-align: center; - font-size: 95%; -} - -.poetry - { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; - } - -.poetry .stanza -{ - margin: 1em 0em 2em 0em; -} - -.poetry .line -{ - margin: 0; - text-indent: -3em; - padding-left: 3em; -} - -.poetry .i2 {margin-left: 2em;} -.poetry .r {text-align: right;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: small; - text-align: right; - /* not bold */ - font-weight: normal; - /* not italic */ - font-style: normal; - /* not small cap */ - font-variant: normal; -} /* page numbers */ - -.figcenter {margin: auto; - text-align: center; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em;} - -.caption p -{ - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; - margin: 0.25em 0; -} - - -.center {text-align: center;} -.right {text-align: right;} -.rightm {text-align: right; padding-right: 2em;} -.large {font-size: large;} -.medium {font-size: medium;} -.small {font-size: small;} -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} -.i2 {margin-left: 2em; padding-right: 2em;} -.i4 {margin-left: 4em; padding-right: 2em;} -.i6 {margin-left: 6em; padding-right: 2em;} - -ul {list-style-type: none;} -li {margin-left: 3em; text-indent: -2em;} -li1 {margin-left: 4em; text-indent: -3em;} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - clear: both; -} - - - -hr.tb {width: 15%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} -hr.chap {width: 25%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} - - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.box {margin: auto; - margin-top: 2em; - border: 1px solid; - padding: 1em; - background-color: #F0FFFF; - width: 25em;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; -} - - .tdl {text-align: left; padding-left: 0.5em;} - .tdlp {text-align: left; padding-right: 3em;} - .tdll {text-align: left; padding-left: 1em;} - .tdlp1 {text-align: left; padding-right: 1em;} - .tdrb {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} - .tdr {text-align: right; padding-right: 0.5em;} - .tdrp {text-align: right; padding-top: 1em;} - .tdrt {text-align: right; vertical-align: top;} - .tdcc {text-align: center; padding-right: 1.5em;} - .tdc {text-align: center;} - -/* Footnotes */ - -.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - - -@media handheld -{ - body - { - margin: 0; - padding: 0; - width: 90%; - } - - .poetry - { - margin: 3em; - display: block; - } - - .box { - width: 75%;} - - hr.tb - { - width: 10%; - margin-left: 47.5%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - } - - hr.chap - { - width: 20%; - margin-left: 42.5%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - } - -} - - h1.pg { margin-top: 0em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - line-height: 1; } - h2.pg { margin-top: 2em; - line-height: 1; } - h3.pg { margin-bottom: 1em; - text-align: center; - line-height: 1; } - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life of Tolstoy: First Fifty Years, by -Aylmer Maude</h1> -<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: The Life of Tolstoy: First Fifty Years</p> -<p> Fifth Edition</p> -<p>Author: Aylmer Maude</p> -<p>Release Date: June 5, 2016 [eBook #52242]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY: FIRST FIFTY YEARS***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4 class="center">E-text prepared by Carlos Colón<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - the Google Books Library Project<br /> - (<a href="http://books.google.com">http://books.google.com</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - the Google Books Library Project. See - <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=PjJGAAAAYAAJ"> - https://books.google.com/books?id=PjJGAAAAYAAJ</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="front"><img src="images/p004.jpg" width="450" -height="600" alt="" title="" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<i>Portrait of Tolstoy<br /> -when commencing Anna Karénina, 1873,<br /> -by Kramskóy.</i> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a></span></p> - - - -<h1>THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY<br /> -<span class="large">FIRST FIFTY YEARS</span></h1> - -<p class="center p4">BY<br /> -AYLMER MAUDE</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">'A man so various that he seemed to be</div> -<div class="line">Not one, but all mankind's epitome.'</div> -<div class="line r"><span class="smcap">Dryden</span></div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="center p4">FIFTH EDITION</p> - -<p class="center p4">NEW YORK<br /> -DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY<br /> -1911</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a></span></p> - - - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="edition"> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp"><i>First Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdl"><i>September 1908</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp"><i>Second Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdl"><i>October 1908</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp"><i>Third Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdl"><i>September 1910</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp"><i>Fourth Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdl"><i>January 1911</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp"><i>Fifth Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdl"><i>April 1911</i></td> -</tr> - -</table> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="preface">PREFACE</h2> - - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> reason I have written this work is because so many -among us are interested in Tolstoy and so few seem to understand -him. It would seem therefore that an English Life -of Tolstoy is needed, and having lived in Russia for twenty-three -years, known Tolstoy well for several years, visited -him frequently in Moscow, and stayed with him repeatedly -at Yásnaya Polyána, I am perhaps as well qualified as any -one to write it, especially as I have long made a careful -study of his views. My wife and I have translated several -of his works, have known people closely connected with him, -and some ten years ago we took part in an unsuccessful -'Tolstoy' Colony; besides which I went to Canada at his -wish to make arrangements for the Doukhobór migration, -of which I subsequently wrote the history.</p> - -<p>Moreover, I am impartial. That is to say, I have taken -pains to understand Tolstoy's views, and to see the good -there is in them; but being a Westerner, I see also certain -things Tolstoy overlooks, and I know that these things -knock big holes in some of his most cherished 'principles.'</p> - -<p>The book has had the great advantage of being carefully -revised by his wife, the Countess S. A. Tolstoy, who -both verbally and in writing has rendered me most valuable -assistance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span> -I owe sincere thanks also to my friend P. I. Birukóf, -Tolstoy's Russian biographer. He modestly speaks of his -own work as 'a collection of those materials for the biography -of Leo Tolstoy which are accessible to me.' I have no -hesitation in saying that his care and integrity in gathering -and using those materials, entitle him to the gratitude of -all who deal with the same subject.</p> - -<p>There is one small matter of typography which needs a -word of explanation. I have sought to tell as much of -the story as possible in Tolstoy's own words, and have -also had occasion to quote other writers. At times the -Russian text quoted contains allusions or expressions which -might perplex an English reader unless a word or two of -explanation were added. To introduce paragraphs of explanation -would interrupt the narrative, besides lengthening -the book. To have recourse to frequent footnotes in -cases where two or three words of explanation are all that -is required is unsightly and unsatisfactory; so I have -adopted the plan of using square brackets [ ] to enclose -such explanations. The ordinary round parentheses ( ) I -have kept for their common use, and for cases where, for -clearness' sake, words are added that are not contained in -the original.</p> - -<p>Beyond indicating the varying value of sums of money -mentioned, I have not troubled the reader with the -fluctuations of the rouble, which went from over 38 -pence before the Crimean war, to 19 pence after the -Russo-Turkish war of 1878. If he wants a concise history -of the Russian currency, he can find it in the preface to my -edition of <i>Sevastopol</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span> -In that as in other matters I have tried to be accurate -without being pedantic. It is Tolstoy and his views that -I aim at presenting to English readers; and I have kept -in the background, as far as I could, the obstacles resulting -from the Tower of Babel.</p> - -<p class="right">AYLMER MAUDE.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Great Baddow,<br /> -Chelmsford</span>, <i>20th August 1910</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii"></a> -<a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="contents"> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">CHAP.</td> - <td class="tdr" colspan="2">PAGE</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt"> </td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#preface">Preface</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">v</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt"> </td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#note">Note on Pronunciation of Russian Names</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">xiii</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">I.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap1">Ancestry and Parentage</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">1</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">II.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap2">Youth and Early Manhood</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">16</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">III.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap3">The Caucasus</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">59</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">IV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap4">The Crimean War</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">93</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">V.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap5">Petersburg; Love Affair; Drouzhínin</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">138</td> -</tr> - - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap6">Travels Abroad</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">166</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap7">At Yásnaya again; Tourgénef; Arbiter; Magazine</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">214</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap8">The School</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">246</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">IX.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap9">Marriage</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">282</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">X.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap10">Nearing the Crisis</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">329</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap11">Confession</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">399</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chap12">Works: 1852-1878</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">427</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt"> </td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#chrono">Chronology</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">450</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrt"> </td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#INDEX">Index</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">457</td> -</tr> - -</table> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x"></a> -<a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="illustrations"> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp1"><a href="#front"><span class="smcap">Portrait of Tolstoy when commencing</span> <i>Anna Karénina</i>, 1873. By Kramskóy</a></td> - <td class="tdrb"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdrp" colspan="2"><i>Facing page</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp1 smcap"><a href="#p048">Tolstoy in 1848, after leaving the University</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">48</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp1 smcap"><a href="#p113">Map of Sevastopol</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">113</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp1 smcap"><a href="#p142">Prominent Russian Writers, 1856: Tourgénef, Sologoúb, -Tolstoy, Nekrásof, Grigoróvitch, and Panáef</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">142</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp1 smcap"><a href="#p152">Tolstoy in 1856, the year he left the Army</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">152</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp1 smcap"><a href="#p200">Tolstoy in 1860, the year his brother Nicholas died</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">200</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp1 smcap"><a href="#p290">Tolstoy in 1862, the year of his Marriage</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">290</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdlp1 smcap"><a href="#p402">Tolstoy's Library, showing the wooden crosspiece from - which he wished to hang himself</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">402</td> -</tr> - -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii"></a> -<a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="note">NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION OF -RUSSIAN NAMES</h2> - - -<p>The spelling of Russian names in Latin letters in a work of -this kind, presents great difficulties. To begin with, we -have as yet (though it is much needed) no accepted method -of transliteration from Russian into English; and though it -is not difficult for any one to frame or select his own -system of transliteration—as I have done for my translations—this -does not entirely meet the case when one has to deal -with the names of people, many of whom have adopted a -spelling of their own.</p> - -<p>On the one hand, a man has a right to decide how he -will have his own name spelt; but on the other hand, the -inclusion of a dozen different systems of transliteration in -one book, is apt to create confusion.</p> - -<p>I have had to do the best I could under the circumstances. -To pronounce the names correctly, in accord -with the system of transliteration I have adopted, the reader -should note the following:</p> - -<p class="i2">I. Lay stress on the syllable marked with an accent.</p> - -<p class="i2">II. Vowel sounds are broad and open:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><i>a</i> as in f<i>a</i>ther.</div> -<div class="line"><i>e</i> as <i>a</i> in f<i>a</i>te.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="i2">But <i>e</i> initial and unaccented is pronounced <i>ye</i>.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><i>i</i> as <i>ee</i> in m<i>ee</i>t.</div> -<div class="line"><i>o</i> as in l<i>o</i>ch.</div> -<div class="line"><i>u</i> as <i>you</i>.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</a></span> -In diphthongs the broad sounds are retained:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><i>ou</i> as <i>oo</i> in b<i>oo</i>t.</div> -<div class="line"><i>ya</i> as in <i>ya</i>rd.</div> -<div class="line"><i>ye</i> as in <i>ye</i>s.</div> -<div class="line"><i>yo</i> as in <i>yo</i>re.</div> -<div class="line"><i>ay</i> as <i>eye</i>.</div> -<div class="line"><i>ey</i> as in th<i>ey</i>.</div> -<div class="line"><i>oy</i> as in b<i>oy</i>.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="i2">III. <i>y</i> with a vowel forms a diphthong; <i>y</i> at the end of a -word, after a consonant, sounds something like <i>ie</i> in hyg<i>ie</i>ne.</p> - -<p class="i2">IV. Consonants:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><i>G</i> is hard, as in <i>g</i>o.</div> -<div class="line"><i>Zh</i> is like <i>z</i> in a<i>z</i>ure.</div> -<div class="line"><i>R</i> is sounded strongly, as in <i>r</i>ough, ba<i>rr</i>en.</div> -<div class="line"><i>S</i> is sharp, as in <i>s</i>eat, pa<i>ss</i>.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Where I know of a spelling deliberately adopted by the -owner of a name, I have felt bound to follow it. For -instance, the name which under my system of transliteration -I should have spelt 'Suhotín,' appears in the book as -Soohoteén, but in such cases, on the first occasion on which -the name occurs, I have given my usual transliteration in -square brackets.</p> - -<p>I hope the day is not distant when some system will be -generally agreed upon in this matter. Any system would -be better than the present anarchy.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap1">CHAPTER I<br /> -ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE</h2> - -<p class="i2">Ancestors. Count Peter. Russian titles. Tolstoy's grandfather -and father. His maternal grandfather and mother. -First recollections. Aunty Tatiána. Antecedents.</p> - - -<h3>1353</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the annals of the Russian nobility it is recorded that -a man named Idris came from 'the lands of Cćsar,' -that is to say, from the Holy Roman Empire, in -the year 1353 with two sons and 3000 followers, -and settling at Tchernígof in Little Russia was received -with favour by the reigning Grand Duke, who granted -him much land. A great-grandson of this Idris, Andrew -by name, migrated to Moscow, where he was well received -by the reigning Grand Duke Vasíly, who conferred upon -him the surname of Tolstóy.</p> - - -<h3>1645</h3> - -<p>As, however, the annals of the Russian nobility were -to a large extent concocted in the reign of Peter the -Great, it is extremely doubtful whether this story is -reliable. Be that as it may, it is certain that -Peter Tolstoy, born in 1645, was a Russian who -distinguished himself in the service of the State. During -the struggles which preceded the acquisition of power -by Peter the Great, he made the mistake of allying -himself with that autocrat's ambitious half-sister, Sophia. -The defeat of her Guards, the Streltsí, caused him quickly -to transfer his allegiance to Peter, whose favour he eventually -managed to secure. When drinking with his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -chosen companions in later days, the Tsar would often -pat Tolstoy's head, saying, 'Little head, little head, had -you been less wise, you would have come off your shoulders -long ago.'</p> - - -<h3>1697, 1716, 1717</h3> - -<p>This Peter Tolstoy held a commission in the Guards, -and fought in the Azof campaign of 1696; but later on -he went abroad to study shipbuilding when Peter -the Great was seeking volunteers for that purpose. -He was sent in 1701 as Ambassador to the Sublime -Porte, and in the years 1710-1713, when political -affairs were critical, he twice suffered severe imprisonment -in the Seven Towers—the stronghold wherein the Sultan -occasionally confined the ambassadors of States with whose -conduct he felt dissatisfied. Returning to Russia in 1714, -Tolstoy obtained the favour of Prince Ménshikof and -became a Minister of State. He married; but his wife -does not appear to have been of sufficient importance for -any one to have said anything about her. He -accompanied Peter the Great to Holland and -France, and rendered him an important though discreditable -service. Peter the Great's son, the refractory -Alexis, who disliked his father's reforms, had -escaped from Russia and was living with his -mistress Euphrosyne at St. Elmo, near Naples. By -threats and promises, and by the aid of this woman, -Tolstoy induced the unfortunate Tsarévitch to return to -Russia, and when he had got him there, took a leading -part in his trial and secret execution.</p> - - -<h3>30 Aug. 1725</h3> - -<p>For this service Tolstoy received large estates and -was promoted to the headship of the Secret Chancellery. -On the day of the coronation of Peter's second -wife, Catherine, Tolstoy was made a Count. -His coat of arms shows seven towers, in memory of -his imprisonment by the Sultan, and is appropriately -supported by two wolf-hounds rampant, looking outwards.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>6 May 1727, 1729</h3> - -<p>On the death of Peter the Great, Tolstoy actively -supported Ménshikof in securing the throne for Catherine -the First, and he was one of the seven members of the -Upper Secret Council which practically ruled Russia. -On the question of choosing a successor to Catherine, he -ventured however to oppose Ménshikof. The latter was -too powerful for him; and forfeiting his title of Count -and deprived of all offices rewards and estates, Tolstoy, -at the age of eighty-two, was banished for life to -the Solovétz Monastery, situated on an island in -the White Sea. Here, two years later, he died. Ménshikof -himself, one may remark in passing, finished his life -that same year in Siberia, having been banished by -an order signed by the boy he had placed on the -throne. To be a Russian Minister of State in those days -was almost as dangerous as it is in our times to be a -revolutionary conspirator.</p> - -<p>The title of Count was revived in the family in 1770, -for the benefit of Peter Tolstoy's grandson; whose son, -Count Elias Tolstoy (he figures in <i>War and Peace</i> as the -elder Count Rostóf), was the grandfather of Leo Tolstoy, -whose life this book narrates.</p> - -<p>There is one matter which it may be as well to explain -at the outset, as English readers are so often puzzled by -it: I refer to the nature of Russian titles of nobility. -The only really Russian title is that of <i>Knyaz</i>, commonly -translated 'Prince.' It is borne by descendants of Rúrik, -by descendants of the Lithuanian Prince Ghedimin, and -by descendants of various Tartar Khans whose dominions -Russia has annexed. It has also been conferred by -Imperial Decree on a dozen or more other Russian -families. Though <i>Knyaz</i> is translated 'Prince,' <i>Velíky -Knyaz</i>, curiously enough, is not translated 'Great Prince,' -but 'Grand Duke,' and this indicates how difficult it is to -find suitable equivalents for these titles. Not till the -time of Peter the Great were the German titles, Count -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -(<i>Graf</i>) and Baron, introduced into Russia. Both of -these are now common among the Russo-German landlords -of the Baltic Provinces; and less so among real Russians.</p> - -<p>It must be borne in mind that there is no law of -primogeniture in Russia. Each son and daughter inherits -the family title, so that there are usually several, and -sometimes many, people with equal rights to use the same -title. Though springing from one stock, they may be -only distantly connected. There are for instance other -Counts Tolstoy, contemporaries of Leo Tolstoy and distant -cousins of his. One of these, the poet Count Alexis -Tolstoy, was a well-known author and dramatist. Another, -the reactionary Count Dmítry Tolstoy, was successively -Head of the Holy Synod, Minister of Education, and -Minister of the Interior.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's grandfather already mentioned, Count Elias -Tolstoy, was an easy-going generous trustful and extravagant -man, who married a wealthy Princess Gortchakóf, -but ran through her money and his own, and at last -to secure a means of livelihood, procured the post of -Governor of Kazán. This he was able to do, thanks to -his family influence. It is recorded to his credit that, contrary -to the general custom of the time, he accepted no -bribes (except from the Government contractor, who was -considered the natural financial prop of a Provincial -Governor), though his wife accepted presents without his -knowledge.</p> - -<p>Their eldest daughter married a Count Osten-Saken. -She became guardian of Leo Tolstoy and of his brothers -and sister, after they had lost their parents. Another -daughter married V. I. Úshkof. Leo Tolstoy was under -her charge when he lived in Kazán and studied at its -University.</p> - -<p>The first fact known to us about his father, Count -Nicholas Tolstoy, is characteristic of the manners of his -class and day. When he was only sixteen, his parents -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -arranged a <i>liaison</i> between him and a peasant girl, such -connections being considered necessary for the health of -young men. A son was born, and Tolstoy records his -'strange feeling of consternation when (in after years) this -brother of mine, fallen into destitution and bearing a -greater resemblance to my father than any of us, used to -beg help of us, and was thankful for the ten or fifteen -roubles we used to give him.'</p> - - -<h3>1812, 1814</h3> - -<p>Nicholas Tolstoy was not yet seventeen when Napoleon invaded -Russia; but in spite of his parents' efforts to dissuade -him, he insisted on entering the army, and thanks -to his mother's family influence, quickly obtained -an appointment as Adjutant to Prince Andrew Gortchakóf, -a General in command. He went through the campaigns -of 1813 and 1814; and in the latter year he -and his orderly, while on their way to rejoin -the Russian army in Germany, after taking despatches to -Petersburg, were captured by the French. The orderly -managed to hide his master's gold coins in his boots, and -for months never risked taking them off, though his feet -grew sore and he suffered extreme discomfort. Thanks to -this devotion, Nicholas Tolstoy, after reaching Paris, was -able to live in comfort.</p> - -<p>Having attained the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, he -left the army when the war was over, and, disillusioned -with military service, returned to Kazán, where his father -(completely ruined by that time) was still Governor.</p> - - -<h3>1820</h3> - -<p>In 1820 Count Elias died, leaving his estate so encumbered -that his son declined to accept the inheritance. -The young man had to face the task of providing -for his old mother, who was accustomed to great -luxury, as well as for his sister and a distant cousin, -Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky, who had been adopted -into the family; and so a marriage was arranged for him -with the wealthy but plain Princess Marie Volkónsky, -who was no longer very young.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<p>His father's life, Tolstoy tells us, was then</p> - -<p class="i2">passed in attending to the estate, a business in which he was -not very expert, but in which he exercised a virtue great for -those days: he was not cruel, but perhaps even lacked firmness. -During his lifetime I never heard of corporal punishment. If it -ever was administered to the serfs, the cases were so rare and my -father took so little part in them, that we children never heard -them mentioned. It was after his death that I learnt, for the -first time, that such punishment ever took place at home.</p> - -<p class="i2">Like most men who served in the army in the early years of -Alexander's reign, he [Count Nicholas Tolstoy] was not what -is now called a Liberal, but out of self-respect he considered -it impossible to serve during the latter [reactionary] part of -Alexander's reign, or under Nicholas. During all my childhood -and youth, our family had no intimate relations with any -Government official. I, of course, understood nothing about -this in childhood, but I understood that my father never -humbled himself before any one, nor altered his brisk, merry, -and often chaffing tone. This feeling of self-respect, which -I witnessed in him, increased my love and admiration for him.</p> - -<p>Leo Tolstoy's mother's family, the Volkónskys, were descended -from Rúrik (the first ruler mentioned in Russian -history) as well as from St. Michael the martyr, Prince of -Tchernígof; and through them, even more than on his -father's side, Tolstoy is connected with many of the leading -families of the Russian aristocracy. Prince Nicholas Volkónsky, -his mother's father, came into conflict with the -most powerful of the favourites of Catherine the Great, -for Tolstoy tells us that:</p> - - -<p class="i2">Having attained the high position of Commander-in-Chief, -he lost it suddenly by refusing to marry Potémkin's niece and -mistress, Varvára Engelhardt. To Potémkin's suggestion that -he should do so, he replied: 'What makes him think I will -marry his strumpet?'</p> - -<p>He married instead, a Princess Catherine Troubetskóy, -and after retiring from the service, settled down on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -estate at Yásnaya Polyána. His wife soon died, leaving -him only one surviving child, a daughter, Tolstoy's mother. -Tolstoy writes of this grandfather:</p> - -<p class="i2">He was regarded as a very exacting master, but I never heard -any instance of his being cruel or inflicting the severe punishments -usual in those days. I believe such cases did occur -on his estate, but the enthusiastic respect for his importance -and cleverness was so great among the servants and peasants -whom I have often questioned about him, that though I have -heard my father condemned, I have heard only praise of my -grandfather's intelligence, business capacity, and interest in the -welfare both of the peasants and of his enormous household.</p> - -<p>Later, a strange chance brought Prince Volkónsky again -into touch with Varvára Engelhardt, whom he had refused -to marry. She married a Prince Sergius Golítsin, who -consequently received promotions and decorations and -rewards; and Tolstoy tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2">With this Sergius Golítsin and his family, my grandfather -formed so close a friendship that my mother from her childhood -was betrothed to one of his ten sons.... This alliance, however, -was not destined to be consummated, for the young man -died prematurely of fever.</p> - -<p>In a portrait of Prince N. Volkónsky which has been preserved -in the family there is much that corresponds to -Leo Tolstoy's own appearance. 'Both,' as his brother-in-law -remarks, 'have high, open foreheads and large organs -of the creative faculty, and in both the organs of musical -talent are exceedingly prominent and are covered by thick, -overhanging eyebrows, from beneath which small, deep-set, -grey eyes literally pierce the soul of the man on whom they -are turned.'</p> - - -<h3>1822</h3> - -<p>Prince N. Volkónsky died in 1820, and two years later -his daughter married Count Nicholas Tolstoy. Of -her Tolstoy tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -I do not remember my mother. I was a year-and-a-half old -when she died. By some strange chance no portrait of her -has been preserved, so that as a real physical being I cannot -picture her to myself. I am in a way glad of this, for in my -conception of her there is only her spiritual figure, and all that -I know about her is beautiful; and I think this has come about -not merely because all who spoke to me of my mother tried to -say only what was good, but because there actually was much -good in her.</p> - -<p>She was well educated, spoke five languages, played the -piano well, and had a wonderful gift for improvising tales -in the most delightful manner. It is said that at balls her -young lady friends would leave the dance and gather in a -dark room to hear her tell a story, which shyness induced -her to do where she could not be seen. Tolstoy remarks -that 'her most valuable quality was that though hot-tempered, -she was yet self-restrained. "She would get -quite red in the face and even cry," her maid told me, -"but would never say a rude word."' She had one quality -Tolstoy values very highly—that of never condemning any -one. It was a quality shared by her eldest son, Nicholas; -and Leo Tolstoy says:</p> - -<p class="i2">In the <i>Lives of the Saints</i> by D. Rostóvsky, there is a short -story which has always touched me exceedingly, of a certain -monk, who to the knowledge of all his brethren had many -faults, but whom an old monk, in a dream, saw occupying a -place of honour among the saints. The old man asked in -astonishment, 'How could this monk, so unrestrained in many -ways, deserve so great a reward?' The answer was: 'He -never condemned any one.'</p> - -<p>Tolstoy adds: 'If such rewards did exist, I think my -brother and my mother would have received them.'</p> - -<p>Another feature Tolstoy records of his mother is 'her -truthfulness and the simple tone of her correspondence.' -He tells us that in his imagination his mother</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -appeared to me a creature so elevated, pure and spiritual, -that often in the middle period of my life, during my struggles -with overwhelming temptations, I prayed to her soul begging -her to aid me; and such prayer always helped me much.</p> - - -<h3>1828</h3> - -<p>Five children were born to Nicholas and Marie Tolstoy. -First came four sons, of whom Leo was the youngest. -His name in Russian is Lyóf Nikoláyevitch (Leo, son-of-Nicholas) -Tolstóy. Leo Tolstoy is the way he signs himself -when using the Latin alphabet; and when pronouncing -his name it should be remembered that the accent falls on -the second syllable, and that that syllable rhymes with -'boy.' The fancy spellings <i>Tolstoi</i> and <i>Tolstoď</i> are due to -the fact that some of the early translators and reviewers, -not being able to read Russian, relied on French versions, -and did not know how Tolstoy spells or pronounces his own -name. He was born on 28th August 1828<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> at -Yásnaya Polyána, with a caul—which both in -Russia and in England is considered a sign of good-fortune.</p> - -<p>A year and a half later a daughter, Marie, was born; -and in giving birth to her the mother died, on 7th March -1830.</p> - -<p>Pilgrims, monks, nuns, and various half-crazy devotees -were frequent visitors at the house, and even took up their -abode there. One of these was a nun, Márya Gerásimovna, -who in her youth had made pilgrimages to various -holy places dressed as a man. After the birth of four -boys Tolstoy's mother longed for a daughter, and promised -Márya Gerásimovna that she should be godmother if -by prayer she enabled her to obtain her desire. The next -child really was a daughter. The promise was kept, and -thereafter Márya Gerásimovna, though she lived partly in -the Toúla convent, was free of the Tolstoys' house and -spent much of her time there.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -Tolstoy gives us his earliest reminiscences in an autobiographical -fragment published in 1878:</p> - -<p class="i2">These are my first recollections. I cannot arrange them in -order, for I do not know which come first or last. Of some of -them I do not even know whether they happened in a dream -or when I was awake. I lie bound<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> and wish to stretch out -my arms, but cannot. I scream and cry, and my screams are -disagreeable to myself, but I cannot stop. Some one—I do not -remember who—bends over me. This all happens in semi-darkness. -I only know there were two people there. My -cries affect them: they are agitated by my screams, but do not -untie me as I want them to, and I scream still louder. To -them it seems necessary that I should be bound, but I know it -is unnecessary and I wish to prove this to them, and I again -burst into cries which are unpleasant to myself but are yet unrestrainable. -I feel the injustice and cruelty—not of people, -for they pity me, but—of fate, and I pity myself. I do not -know and shall never know, what it was all about: whether I -was swaddled while still a baby at the breast, and struggled to -free my hands; whether they swaddled me when I was more -than a year old, to prevent my scratching some sore, or whether -I have gathered into this one recollection (as one does in a -dream) many different impressions. The one sure thing is, -that this was the first and strongest impression of my life. -And what remains on my memory is not my cries nor my -suffering, but the complexity and contradictoriness of the impressions. -I desire freedom, it would harm no one, but I who -need strength am weak, while they are strong.</p> - -<p class="i2">The next impression is a pleasant one. I am sitting in a tub, -and am surrounded by a new and not unpleasant smell of something -with which they are rubbing my tiny body. Probably it -was bran, put into the water of my bath; the novelty of the -sensation caused by the bran aroused me, and for the first time -I became aware of, and liked, my own little body with the -visible ribs on my breast, and the smooth, dark, wooden tub, -the bared arms of my nurse, the warm, steaming, swirling -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -water, the noise it made, and especially the smooth feel of the -wet rim of the tub as I passed my hands along it.</p> - -<p class="i2">My next recollections belong to the time when I was five or -six, and there are very few of them, and not one that relates to -life outside the walls of the house. Nature, up to the age of -five, did not exist for me. All that I remember, happened in -bed or in our rooms. Neither grass, nor leaves, nor sky, nor -sun existed for me. It cannot be that no one ever gave me -flowers and leaves to play with, that I never saw any grass, that -they never shaded me from the sun; but up to the time when -I was five or six years old, I have no recollection of what we -call Nature. Probably, to see it, one has to be separate from -it, and I was Nature.</p> - -<p class="i2">The recollection that comes next after the tub is that of -Ereméyevna. 'Ereméyevna' was the name with which they -used to frighten us children. Probably they had long frightened -us with it, but my recollection of it is this: I am in bed and -feel well and happy as usual, and I should not remember it, but -that suddenly the nurse, or some one of those who made up my -life, says something in a voice new to me, and then goes away; -and in addition to being happy I am also frightened. And -besides me there is some one else like me. (Probably my sister -Mary, whose crib stood in the same room.) And I now remember -a curtain near my bed; and both my sister and I are -happy and frightened at the strange thing happening to us, -and I hide in my pillow: hide, and glance at the door from -behind which I expect something new and merry. We laugh, -and hide, and wait. And then some one appears in a dress and -cap quite unknown to me, but I recognise that it is the same -person who is always with us (whether my nurse or aunt I do -not remember), and this some one says something about bad -children and about Ereméyevna in a gruff voice which I know. -And I squeal with fear and pleasure, and really am frightened, -and yet am glad to be frightened, and wish her who is frightening -me not to know that I have recognised her. We become -quiet, but presently begin whispering to one another again, on -purpose that Ereméyevna may come back.</p> - -<p class="i2">I have another recollection similar to this of Ereméyevna -(but as it is clearer it probably belongs to a later date) which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -has always remained inexplicable to me. In this recollection -the chief part is played by our German tutor, Theodore Ivánitch, -but I am sure I was not yet in his charge; so the event must -have taken place before I was five. It is my first recollection -of Theodore Ivánitch, and it took place at so early an age that -I can remember no one else: neither my brothers nor my -father nor any one. If I have some notion of some one -individual person, it is only of my sister, and this only because -she, like me, was afraid of Ereméyevna. With this recollection -is joined my first conception of the fact that our house had -a top story. How I climbed there—whether I went by myself -or whether any one carried me—I have quite forgotten, but -I remember that many of us are there, and we all form a circle -holding each other's hands; among us are some women I did -not know (for some reason I remember that they were washer-women), -and we all begin to go round and to jump; and -Theodore Ivánitch jumps, lifting his legs too high and too -loudly and noisily, and I at one and the same instant feel -that this is bad and depraved, and notice him and (I believe) -begin to cry—and all is over.</p> - -<p class="i2">That is all I remember up to the age of five. Neither my -nurses, aunts, brothers, sister, nor my father, nor the rooms, -nor my toys, do I remember. My more distinct recollections -begin from the time I was moved downstairs to Theodore -Ivánitch and the elder boys.</p> - -<p class="i2">When I was moved downstairs to Theodore Ivánitch and the -boys, I experienced for the first time and therefore more -strongly than ever since, the feeling which is called the sense -of duty, the consciousness of the cross every man is called upon -to bear. It was hard to leave what I was accustomed to from -the beginning of things, and I was sad, poetically sad, not -so much at parting from people: sister, nurse, and aunt, as at -parting with my crib, the curtain and the pillow; and I feared -the new life into which I was entering. I tried to see the jolly -side of this new life awaiting me; I tried to believe the caressing -words with which Theodore Ivánitch lured me to him. I tried -not to see the contempt with which the boys received me, the -youngest boy. I tried to think it was a shame for a big boy to live -with girls, and that there was nothing good in the life upstairs -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -with nurse; but my heart was terribly sad, I knew I was irreparably -losing my innocence and happiness; and only a feeling of -personal dignity and the consciousness of doing my duty upheld -me. (Often in after-life I have experienced similar moments -at the parting of crossroads, when entering on a fresh course.) -I experienced quiet grief at the irreparableness of my loss; -I was unable to believe that it would really happen. Though -I had been told that I should be moved to the boys' rooms, -I remember that the dressing-gown with a cord sewn to its -back, which they put on me, seemed to cut me off for ever -from upstairs, and I then for the first time observed—not -all those with whom I had lived upstairs, but—the chief person -with whom I lived, and whom I did not remember before. -This was my Aunty Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky. I remember -her short, stout, black-haired, kindly, tender, and -compassionate. It was she who put the dressing-gown on me, -and embracing me and kissing me, tied it round my waist; -and I saw that she felt as I did, that it was sad, terribly sad, but -had to be; and for the first time I felt that life is not a game -but a serious matter.</p> - -<p>'Aunty' Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky, mentioned in -the above reminiscences, was a very distant relative who -being left an orphan, had been brought up by Tolstoy's -paternal grandparents. She was very attractive and affectionate. -She loved and was loved by Count Nicholas, -Leo's father, but stood aside that he might marry the rich -Princess Marie Volkónsky and repair the family fortunes. -Six years after his wife's death Count Nicholas asked -Tatiána to marry him and be a mother to his children. -Not wishing (Tolstoy tells us) to spoil her pure, poetic -relations with the family, she refused the first but fulfilled -the second of these requests.</p> - -<p>The joyousness of Tolstoy's boyhood was largely due to -the care and affection of this excellent woman, and in the -most firmly rooted of his principles—such as his detestation -of corporal punishment and his approval of complete -chastity—it is easy to trace her unconscious influence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -Here for instance is one episode:</p> - -<p class="i2">We children were returning home from a walk with our -tutor, when near the barn we met the fat steward, Andrew, -followed by the coachman's assistant, 'Squinting Kouzmá' as -he was called, whose face was sad. He was a married man and -no longer young. One of us asked Andrew where he was -going, and he quietly replied that he was going to the barn, -where Kouzmá had to be punished. I cannot describe the -dreadful feeling which these words and the sight of the good-natured -crestfallen Kouzmá produced on me. In the evening -I told this to my Aunt Tatiána, who hated corporal punishment -and, wherever she had influence, never allowed it for us any -more than for the serfs. She was greatly revolted at what -I told her, and rebuking me said, 'Why did you not stop him?' -Her words grieved me still more.... I never thought that we -could interfere in such things, and yet it appeared that we -could. But it was too late, and the dreadful deed had been -done.</p> - -<p>To sum up what we know of Tolstoy's antecedents: -he was descended on his father's side and still more on his -mother's, from aristocratic families who were more or less in -passive opposition to the Government, and who shared the -humanitarian sympathies current in the early years of the -reign of Alexander I. A cousin of Tolstoy's mother was -one of the Decembrists, and on the accession of Nicholas I -in 1825 took part in their abortive attempt to establish -Constitutional Government. He was exiled to Eastern -Siberia for thirty years, doing hard labour in irons part of -the time. His wife (another Princess Marie Volkónsky) -voluntarily accompanied him, as Nekrásof has told in a well-known -Russian poem. Several members of the family -towards the end of their lives retired into convents or -monasteries.</p> - -<p>We find strong family love uniting the homes of Tolstoy's -parents and grandparents; and even after their death, -Tolstoy's nature ripened in a congenial atmosphere of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -family affection; and many of his most pronounced sympathies -and antipathies are not peculiar to himself, but -were shared equally by other members of the family.</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER I</h3> - -<p>P. Birukof: <i>Lyof Nikolayevitch Tolstoy. Biografiya</i>: Moscow, 1906. -(The Russian edition is much more readable and accurate -than the English.)</p> - -<p class="i2">Referred to hereafter as <i>Birukof</i>.</p> - -<p>S. A. Behrs: <i>Vospominaniya o Grafe L. N. Tolstom</i>, Smolensk, 1894, -is very valuable as being the work of one who spent twelve -summers at Yasnaya, and knew Tolstoy intimately.</p> - -<p class="i2">Referred to hereafter as <i>Behrs</i>.</p> - -<p>There is an English edition of this book: <i>Recollections of -Count Leo Tolstoy</i>, London, 1893, but it is incomplete, and -inferior to the Russian in many ways. It gives the author's -name wrongly as C. A. Behrs.</p> - -<p>Leo Tolstoy, <i>First Recollections</i>, a fragment: Tolstoy's collected -works, Moscow, 1892.</p> - -<p>Supplement to <i>Novy Mir</i>, Graf Lyof Tolstoy: St. Petersburg, 1903.</p> - -<p class="i2">Referred to hereafter as <i>Novy Mir</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap2">CHAPTER II<br /> -CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MANHOOD</h2> - -<p class="i2">Yásnaya Polyána. Aunt Tatiána. The German Tutor. -The brothers: Nicholas, Sergius and Demetrius. Doúnetchka. -The house-serfs. A family scene. Pilgrims and -saints. Death of father and grandmother. Flying. Personal -appearance. Corporal punishment. Originality. Riding -lessons. The Countess Osten-Saken. Aunt P. I. -Úshkof. Books. Abstract speculations. Kazán University. -Imprisonment. Diary. Demetrius. Books: Dickens and -Rousseau. Yásnaya again. Petersburg. Consistency. -Rudolph the Musician. Women. Gambling. Gipsy girls. -Money difficulties. The liberty of Russian nobles.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Yásnaya Polyána</span> (Bright Glade), where Tolstoy was born, -had been an ancestral estate of the Volkónskys and belonged -to his mother, the Princess Marie. It is situated ten -miles south of Toúla, in a pleasantly undulating country. -The estate, which is enclosed by an old brick wall, is well -wooded and has many avenues of lime-trees, a river and -four lakes. In Tolstoy's grandfather's time, sentinels kept -guard at the small, round, brick towers, which now stand -neglected at the entrance of the main birch avenue leading -to the house. Something of the great confidence in himself -and readiness to despise others, which despite all his -efforts to be humble, characterise Tolstoy, may be due to -the fact that he was born and grew up on an estate where -for generations his ancestors had been the only people of -importance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -'Aunty' Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky had been -brought up by his grandmother on an equality with her -own children. She (Tatiána) was resolute, self-sacrificing, -and, says Tolstoy,</p> - -<p class="i2">must have been very attractive with her enormous plait of -crisp, black, curly hair, her jet-black eyes, and vivacious, -energetic expression. When I remember her she was more -than forty, and I never thought about her as pretty or not -pretty. I simply loved her eyes, her smile, and her dusky -broad little hand, with its energetic little cross vein.</p> - -<p class="i2">We had two aunts and a grandmother; they all had more -right to us than Tatiána Alexándrovna, whom we called Aunt -only by habit (for our kinship was so distant that I could never -remember what it was), but she took the first place in our upbringing -by right of love to us (like Buddha in the story of the -wounded swan), and we felt her right.</p> - -<p class="i2">I had fits of passionately tender love for her.</p> - -<p class="i2">I remember once, when I was about five, how I squeezed in -behind her on the sofa in the drawing-room and she caressingly -touched me with her hand. I caught it and began to kiss -it, and to cry with tender love of her....</p> - -<p class="i2">Aunty Tatiána had the greatest influence on my life. From -early childhood she taught me the spiritual delight of love. -She taught me this joy not by words; but by her whole being -she filled me with love. I saw, I felt, how she enjoyed -loving, and I understood the joy of love. This was the first -thing.</p> - -<p class="i2">Secondly, she taught me the delights of an unhurried, quiet -life.</p> - -<p>Another, though a much less important, influence was -that of the tutor, Theodore Rössel (who figures as Karl -Ivánovitch Mauer in Tolstoy's early sketch, <i>Childhood</i>). -Tolstoy owes his excellent knowledge of German and French -to the fact that his father, following a custom common among -well-to-do Russians, engaged foreign teachers and let his -children learn languages not so much from books as by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -conversation, while they were still quite young. Rössel's -'honest, straightforward, and loving nature' helped to develop -the boy's good qualities.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy got on well, too, with his brothers, who were -five-and-a-half, two, and one year older than himself, as -well as with his little sister Marie, his junior by a year-and-a-half.</p> - -<p>He not only loved, but deeply respected, his eldest -brother Nicholas (pet name, Nikólenka), whose influence -lasted until, and even after, his death in 1860. Of him -Tolstoy says:</p> - -<p class="i2">He was a wonderful boy, and later a wonderful man. Tourgénef -used to say of him very truly, that he only lacked certain -faults to be a great writer. He lacked the chief fault needed -for authorship—vanity, and was not at all interested in what -people thought of him. The qualities of a writer which he -possessed were, first of all, a fine artistic sense, an extremely -developed sense of proportion, a good-natured gay sense of -humour, an extraordinary inexhaustible imagination, and a -truthful and highly moral view of life; and all this without the -slightest conceit. His imagination was such that for hours -together he could tell fairy-tales or ghost-stories, or amusing -tales in the style of Mrs. Radcliffe, without a pause and with -such vivid realisation of what he was narrating that one forgot -it was all invention.... When he was not narrating or reading -(he read a great deal) he used to draw. He almost -invariably drew devils with horns and twisted moustaches, -intertwined in the most varied attitudes and engaged in the -most diverse occupations. These drawings were also full of -imagination.</p> - -<p class="i2">It was he who, when I was five and my brothers, Dmítry -six and Sergéy seven, announced to us that he possessed a -secret by means of which, when disclosed, all men would -become happy: there would be no more disease, no trouble, no -one would be angry with anybody, all would love one another, -and all would become 'Ant-Brothers.'... We even organised -a game of Ant-Brothers, which consisted in sitting under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -chairs, sheltering ourselves with boxes, screening ourselves with -handkerchiefs, and cuddling against one another while thus -crouching in the dark.... The Ant-Brotherhood was revealed -to us, but not the chief secret: the way for all men to cease -suffering any misfortune, to leave off quarrelling and being -angry, and become continuously happy; this secret he said he -had written on a green stick, buried by the road at the edge of -a certain ravine, at which spot (since my body must be buried -somewhere) I have asked to be buried in memory of Nikólenka. -Besides this little stick, there was also a certain Fanfarónof -Hill, up which he said he could lead us, if only we would fulfil -all the appointed conditions. These were: first, to stand in a -corner and not think of a white bear. I remember how I used -to get into a corner and try (but could not possibly manage) -not to think of a white bear. The second condition was to -walk without wavering along a crack between the boards of -the floor; and the third was, for a whole year not to see a -hare, alive or dead or cooked; and it was necessary to swear -not to reveal these secrets to any one. He who fulfilled these, -and other more difficult conditions which Nikólenka would -communicate later, would have one wish, whatever it might be, -fulfilled.</p> - -<p class="i2">Nikólenka, as I now conjecture, had probably read or heard -of the Freemasons—of their aspirations toward the happiness -of mankind, and of the mysterious initiatory rites on entering -their order; he had probably also heard about the Moravian -Brothers [in Russian <i>ant</i> is <i>mouravéy</i>].</p> - -<p>Writing when he was over seventy, Tolstoy adds:</p> - -<p class="i2">The ideal of ant-brothers lovingly clinging to one another, -though not under two arm-chairs curtained by handkerchiefs, but -of all mankind under the wide dome of heaven, has remained the -same for me. As I then believed that there existed a little -green stick whereon was written the message which could -destroy all evil in men and give them universal welfare, so I -now believe that such truth exists and will be revealed to men, -and will give them all it promises.</p> - -<p>It was, however, Tolstoy's second brother, Sergius (or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -Sergéy: pet name, Seryózha), whom Tolstoy in his young -days most enthusiastically admired and wished to imitate. -Sergius was handsome, proud, straightforward, and singularly -sincere. Of him Leo Tolstoy says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I loved and wished to be like him. I admired his handsome -appearance, his singing (he was always singing), his drawing, -his gaiety and especially (strange as it may seem to say so) -the spontaneity of his egotism. I myself was always aware of -myself and self-conscious; I always guessed, rightly or wrongly, -what other people thought or felt about me, and this spoilt my -joy in life. This probably is why in others I specially liked -the opposite feature—spontaneity of egotism. And for this I -specially loved Seryózha. The word <i>loved</i> is not correct. I -loved Nikólenka; but for Seryózha I was filled with admiration -as for something quite apart from and incomprehensible -to me.</p> - -<p>Of the third brother, Demetrius (or Dmítry: pet name, -Mítenka), only a year older than himself, Tolstoy tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2">I hardly remember him as a boy. I only know by hearsay -that as a child he was very capricious. He was nearest to me -in age and I played with him oftenest, but did not love him as -much as I loved Seryózha, nor as I loved and respected Nikólenka. -He and I lived together amicably. I do not recollect -that we quarrelled. Probably we did, and we may even have -fought.... As a child I remember nothing special about -Mítenka except his childish merriment.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy says he was 'afraid of beggars, and of one of the -Volkónskys, who used to pinch me; but, I think, of no -one else.'</p> - -<p>A girl, Doúnetchka Temeshóf, was adopted as a member -of the family. She was a natural daughter of a wealthy -bachelor friend of Tolstoy's father.</p> - -<p class="i2">I remember how, when I had already learnt French, I was -made to teach her that alphabet. At first it went all right (we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -were both about five years old), but later she probably became -tired, and ceased to name correctly the letters I pointed out. -I insisted. She began to cry. I did the same, and when our -elders came, we could say nothing owing to our hopeless tears.</p> - -<p>In his later recollections of her he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">She was not clever, but was a good, simple girl; and, above -all, so pure that we boys never had any but brotherly relations -with her.</p> - -<p>By which he means that there was no flirtation.</p> - -<p>The relations between the family and its servants, who -were serfs (and of whom there were about thirty), were, as -in many a Russian family, often really affectionate. One -instance of a serf's devotion has already been quoted; and -such cases were not rare. In <i>Childhood</i> mention is made -of the old housekeeper, Praskóvya Isáyevna, who was completely -devoted to the welfare of the family, and Tolstoy -says: 'All that I there wrote about her was actual -truth.'</p> - -<p>Here is another example illustrating both kindly toleration -of minor offences committed by a serf, and the family -affection which sweetened life:</p> - -<p class="i2">My pleasantest recollections of my father are of his sitting -with grandmother on the sofa, helping her to play Patience. -My father was polite and tender with every one, but to my -grandmother he was always particularly tenderly submissive. -They used to sit—Grandma playing Patience, and from time to -time taking pinches from a gold snuff-box. My aunts sit in -arm-chairs, and one of them reads aloud. We children come in -to say good-night, and sometimes sit there. We always take -leave of Grandma and our aunts by kissing their hands. I -remember once, in the middle of a game of Patience and of the -reading, my father interrupts my aunt, points to a looking-glass -and whispers something. We all look in the same direction. -It was the footman Tíkhon, who (knowing that my father was -in the drawing-room) was going into the study to take some -tobacco from a big leather folding tobacco-pouch. My father -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -sees him in the looking-glass, and notices his figure carefully -stepping on tip-toe. My aunts laugh. Grandmama for a long -time does not understand, but when she does, she too smiles -cheerfully. I am enchanted by my father's kindness, and on -taking leave of him kiss his white muscular hand with special -tenderness.</p> - -<p>An important feature of the life in which Tolstoy grew -up was furnished by the half-crazy saints who swarmed in -Russia in those days, and are still occasionally to be -met with. Readers of <i>Childhood</i> will remember Grísha, an -admirable specimen of that class, about whom Tolstoy -makes the following characteristic note in his memoirs:</p> - -<p class="i2">Grísha is an invented character. We had many of these -half-crazy saints at our house, and I was taught to regard them -with profound respect, for which I am deeply grateful to those -who brought me up. If there were some among them who -were insincere, or who experienced periods of weakness and -insincerity, yet the aim of their life, though practically absurd, -was so lofty that I am glad I learned in childhood unconsciously -to understand the height of their achievement. They -accomplished what Marcus Aurelius speaks of when he says: -'There is nothing higher than to endure contempt for one's -good life.' So harmful and so unavoidable is the desire for -human glory which always contaminates good deeds, that one -cannot but sympathise with the effort not merely to avoid -praise, but even to evoke contempt. Such a character was -Márya Gerásimovna, my sister's godmother, and the semi-idiot -Evdokímoushka, and some others in our house.</p> - -<p>How deeply these early impressions were engraved on -Tolstoy's mind is obvious from his earliest as well as his latest -writings. Take, for instance, the lines from <i>Childhood</i> -referring to Grísha's prayer overheard by the children.</p> - -<p class="i2">Much water has flowed away since then, many recollections -of the past have lost for me their meaning and become blurred -fancies; even the pilgrim Grísha himself has long since finished -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -his last pilgrimage; but the impression he produced on me -and the feeling he evoked, will never die out of my memory.</p> - -<p>In Tolstoy's later life we shall again and again find this -medieval note recurring (with whatever of truth or falsity -it contains), and the assertion that it is not the usefulness -or uselessness of a man's life that matters, so much as his -self-abnegation and the humility of his soul.</p> - -<p>To complete the picture of Tolstoy's early boyhood at -Yásnaya Polyána, we must think of him as interested in -his father's dogs and horses and hunting (in <i>Childhood</i> he -tells the true story of how he hunted his first hare), and -also in the games and masquerades with which the family -and visitors, as well as the servants, amused themselves, -especially at New Year.</p> - -<p>In spite of his sensitive introspective nature, Tolstoy's -childhood was a happy one; and to it he always looks back -with pleasure. He speaks of 'that splendid, innocent, -joyful, poetic period of childhood, up to fourteen,' and he -tells us that the impressions of early childhood, preserved -in one's memory, grow in some unfathomable depth of the -soul, like seeds thrown on good ground, till after many -years they thrust their bright, green shoots into God's world.</p> - - -<h3>1837</h3> - -<p>When Tolstoy was eight years old the family moved to -Moscow for his elder brothers' education. The following -summer they lost their father, who, having gone to -Toúla on business, fell down in the street on his way -to visit his friend Temeshóf, and died of apoplexy. What -money he had with him was stolen, but some unnegotiable -bonds were brought back to the Tolstoys in Moscow by an -unknown beggar. The funeral took place at Yásnaya -Polyána; and Leo, who did not attend it, long fancied that -his father was not really dead. Looking at the faces of -strangers in the streets of Moscow, he felt almost certain he -might at any moment meet him alive again.</p> - -<p>This event brought the problems of life and death -vividly to the boy's mind, and nine months later the im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>pression -was intensified by the death of his grandmother, -who never recovered from the shock of her son's death. -Hers was the first death Tolstoy witnessed, and he never -forgot the horror he felt when, as she lay dying of dropsy, -he was admitted to kiss her swollen white hand and saw -her, dressed in white, lying motionless on a high white bed. -But he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I remember that new jackets of black material, braided with white, -were made for all of us. It was dreadful to see the undertakers' -men hanging about near the house, and then bringing in the coffin, -with its lid covered with glazed brocade, and my grandmother's -stern face, with its Roman nose, and her white cap and the white -kerchief on her neck, lying high in the coffin on the table; and -it was sad to see the tears of our aunts and of Páshenka; but yet -the new braided jackets and the soothing attitude adopted towards -us by those around, gratified us.... I remember how pleasant it -was to me to overhear during the funeral the conversation of some -gossiping female guests, who said, 'Complete orphans; their father -only lately dead, and now the grandmother gone too.'</p> - -<p>Some time after this, an event occurred that is recorded -on the first page of Tolstoy's <i>Confession</i>:</p> - -<p class="i2">I remember how, when I was about eleven, a boy Vladímir -Milútin (long since dead), a Grammar School pupil, visited us -one Sunday and announced as the latest novelty a discovery -made at his School. The discovery was that there is no God, -and all that we are taught about Him is a mere invention. I -remember how interested my elder brothers were in this news. -They called me to their council and we all, I remember, -became animated, and accepted the news as something very -interesting and fully possible.</p> - -<p>Various stories have been preserved relating to Tolstoy's -boyhood, and some of them are sufficiently characteristic -to be worth repeating.</p> - -<p>One incident which made a strong impression on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -lad, keenly sensitive as he always was to any shade of -injustice, was the following:</p> - -<p>Soon after the death of their father and grandmother, -the orphan Tolstoys, then living in rather straitened -circumstances (owing to the property being left in trust), -were invited to a Christmas Tree at the house of an -acquaintance, and the young Princes Gortchakóf, nephews -of the then Minister of War, were also among the guests. -All the children received presents; but whereas the Gortchakófs -had expensive ones, the Tolstoys, to their annoyance, -received cheap common ones.</p> - -<p>Another occurrence that clung to his recollection through -life, was the friendly welcome they received one day when -they made their way uninvited into a private garden in -Moscow; and the sad disappointment they experienced -when, returning a few days later unaccompanied by a -pretty and attractive girl who had been with them on the -former occasion, they were coldly informed that it was -private ground, not open to the public.</p> - -<p>Other stories, told by Tolstoy himself or by the family, -illustrate his impulsive, imaginative, strenuous and rather -erratic nature at this period.</p> - -<p>When he was about seven or eight years old he had an -ardent desire to fly, and persuaded himself that it was possible -to do so. It was only necessary to sit down tight -on your heels, clasping your arms firmly round your -knees, and the tighter you held them the higher you would -fly. As Tolstoy was always ardent to put his beliefs into -practice, it is not very surprising that one day, soon after -the family had moved to Moscow, he stayed behind in the -class-room when he should have come down to dinner, and -climbing out on the window-sill, some six yards from the -ground, threw himself out. He was picked up unconscious. -The ill results of his fall were fortunately confined to a -slight concussion of the brain; and after sleeping for -eighteen hours on end he woke up again quite well.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -It would be a mistake to take his story, <i>Childhood</i>, as -strictly autobiographical; but it contains many passages -which one knows from other sources to be true of his own -life, and one such is the passage in which (speaking in the -character of Nikólenka) he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I knew very well that I was plain, and therefore every reference -to my appearance was painfully offensive to me.... -Moments of despair frequently came over me: I imagined that -there could be no happiness on earth for a man with so broad -a nose, such thick lips, and such small grey eyes as mine. -I asked God to perform a miracle and change me into a handsome -boy, and all I then had and all I could ever possess in the -future, I would have given for a handsome face.</p> - -<p>In fact, his personal appearance caused the sensitive lad -much concern, but his efforts to improve it were unsuccessful. -On one occasion he clipped his eyebrows, and the -unsatisfactory results of that operation occasioned him -great grief.</p> - -<p>He records in his Reminiscences the following incident, -which certainly intensified his lifelong antipathy to corporal -punishment:</p> - -<p class="i2">I do not remember for what, but for something quite undeserving -of punishment, St. Thomas [the resident French -tutor who succeeded Rössel] first locked me into a room, and -secondly threatened to flog me. I thereupon experienced -a dreadful feeling of anger indignation and disgust, not only -towards St. Thomas himself, but towards the violence with -which I was threatened.</p> - -<p>When quite a small boy he conceived an attachment for -the nine-year-old daughter of his father's friend, Islényef, -and being jealous of her for daring to talk to others, he -angrily pushed her off a balcony, with the result that she -limped for a long time afterwards. A quarter of a century -later, when he married this lady's daughter, his mother-in-law -used laughingly to remind him of the incident, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -say, 'Evidently you pushed me off the balcony in my childhood -that you might marry my daughter afterwards!'</p> - -<p>His sister relates that once when they were driving in a -troika (<i>i.e.</i> three horses abreast) to Yásnaya, Leo got down -during a break in the journey and went forward on foot. -When the carriage started again and began to overtake him -he took to running, and when the horses went faster he -also increased his speed, racing as hard as he could. He was -not overtaken till he had gone about two miles and was -completely tired out. He was lifted back into the carriage -gasping for breath, perspiring and quite exhausted. Any -one not endowed with the remarkable physical vigour that, -in spite of frequent attacks of ill-health, has characterised -Tolstoy through life, would probably have done themselves -serious injury had they taxed their vital resources as recklessly -as he often did.</p> - -<p>All accounts agree in representing him as an original and -odd little fellow, unwilling to do things like other people. -He would for instance enter a drawing-room and, carefully -placing his feet together and bending his head, would -make his bow backwards, saluting each of the company -in turn.</p> - -<p>Two incidents are recorded relating to the love of -riding which has remained a characteristic of his through -life.</p> - -<p>When his brothers were sent to a riding-school, Leo (in -spite of his father's assurances and those of the riding-master -that he was too small to begin and would tumble off) -also obtained permission to learn to ride. At his first -lesson he duly tumbled off, but begged to be replaced in -the saddle; and he did not fall off again, but became an expert -horseman. In one of the short stories he wrote many -years later for the use of school-children, he tells how he -once wished to ride the old horse Raven after his brothers -had each had a turn on it; and how Raven being too tired -to move from the stables, he beat it till he broke his switch -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -on its sides. He then demanded a stouter switch from the -serf in charge, but the man replied:</p> - -<p class="i2">'Ah, master, you have no pity! Why do you beat him? -He is twenty years old, and is tired out; he can hardly breathe. -Why, for a horse, he is as old as Timoféyitch [a very old peasant -living at the place]. You might as well get on Timoféyitch's -back, and drive him beyond his strength like that, with a -switch. Would you feel no pity for him?'</p> - -<p class="i2">I thought of Timoféyitch, and hearkened to the man. I got -off the horse's back; and when I noticed how its steaming -sides were working, and how heavily it breathed through its -nostrils, swishing its thin tail, I understood how hard it was -for it. Till then I had thought that it was as happy as I was -myself. And I felt so sorry for Raven that I began to kiss his -sweaty neck and to beg his pardon for having beaten him.</p> - -<p class="i2">Since then I have grown up, but I always have pity on -horses, and always remember Raven and Timoféyitch when I -see horses ill-treated.</p> - -<p>He does not appear to have been very good at his lessons, -and himself somewhere mentions the dictum of a student -who used to coach his brothers and himself, and said of their -aptitude for learning:</p> - -<p class="i2">'Sergéy both wishes and can, Dmítry wishes but can't' (this -was not true), 'and Leo neither wishes nor can.' (This, I -think, was perfectly true.)</p> - -<p>On the other hand, St. Thomas, the French tutor already -referred to (he figures in <i>Childhood</i> as St. Jérôme), must have -noticed the lad's capacity, for he used to say, '<i>Ce petit a une -tęte: c'est un petit Moličre</i>' (This little one has a head: -he is a little Moličre).</p> - - -<h3>1837</h3> - -<p>After the father's death the family property passed under -the control of the Court of Wards, and expenses had to be -cut down. It was therefore decided that, though -the two elder brothers had to remain in Moscow for -the sake of their education, the three younger children should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -return to Yásnaya Polyána, where living was cheaper, in -charge of their much loved Aunty Tatiána. Their legal -guardian, the Countess Alexandra ('Aline') Ilýnishna Osten-Saken, -remained in Moscow with the elder boys.</p> - -<p>This lady had made what seemed a brilliant marriage with -the wealthy Count Osten-Saken, whose family was among the -first in the Baltic Provinces; but her married life was a -terrible one. Her husband went out of his mind and tried -to kill her. While he was confined in an asylum, the -Countess gave birth to a still-born child. To save her -from this fresh shock, a girl born of a servant, the wife of -a Court cook, was substituted for the still-born baby. This -girl, Páshenka, lived with the Tolstoy family, and was already -grown up when Tolstoy was quite a child. Subsequently -the Countess Alexandra lived first with her parents and -then with her brother, Tolstoy's father. Though she was -a devotee of the Orthodox Russo-Greek Church of which -Tolstoy eventually became so fierce an opponent, much in -her character and conduct accords with the precepts laid -down in his later writings; and it is evident that certain -aspects of his understanding of the Christian character, -which strike most Englishmen as peculiar, far from being -invented out of his own head, are derived from a deeply-rooted -Russian and family tradition. He tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2">My aunt was a truly religious woman. Her favourite occupation -was reading the Lives of the Saints, conversing with -pilgrims, half-crazy devotees, monks and nuns, of whom some -always lived in our house, while others only visited my aunt.... -She was not merely outwardly religious, keeping the fasts, -praying much, and associating with people of saintly life, but -she herself lived a truly Christian life, trying not only to avoid -all luxury and acceptance of service, but herself serving others -as much as possible. She never had any money, for she gave -away all she had to those who asked. A servant related to me -how, during their life in Moscow, my aunt used carefully on -tip-toe to pass her sleeping maid, when going to Matins, and used<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -herself to perform all the duties which it was in those days -customary for a maid to perform. In food and dress she was -as simple and unexacting as can possibly be imagined. Unpleasant -as it is to me to mention it, I remember from childhood -a specific acid smell connected with my aunt, probably -due to negligence in her toilet: and this was the graceful -poetic Aline with beautiful blue eyes, who used to love reading -and copying French verses, who played on the harp, and -always had great success at the grandest balls! I remember -how affectionate and kind she always was, and this equally to -the most important men and women and to the nuns and -pilgrims.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy goes on to tell how pleasantly she bore the jests -and teasing that her devotion to the priests brought upon -her.</p> - -<p class="i2">I remember her dear good-natured laugh, and her face -shining with pleasure. The religious feeling which filled her -soul was evidently so important to her, so much higher than -anything else, that she could not be angry or annoyed at anything, -and could not attribute to worldly matters the importance -others attach to them.</p> - - -<h3>1840</h3> - -<p>In the summer of 1839 the whole family assembled at -Yásnaya Polyána. The next year, 1840, was a famine -year. The crops were so poor that corn had to -be bought to feed the serfs, and to raise funds for -this purpose one of the Tolstoys' estates had to be sold. -The supply of oats for the horses was stopped, and Tolstoy -remembers how he and his brothers, pitying their ponies, -secretly gathered oats for them in the peasants' fields, quite -unconscious of the crime they were committing.</p> - - -<h3>1841</h3> - -<p>In the autumn of that year the whole family moved to -Moscow, returning to Yásnaya for the following summer. -The next autumn their guardian, the kind good -Countess Alexandra Osten-Saken, died in the Convent -or 'Hermitage' founded by Óptin (a robber chief of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -the fourteenth century) in the Government of Kaloúga, to -which she had retired.</p> - -<p>After her death her sister, Pelagéya Ilýnishna Úshkof, -became their guardian. She was the wife of a Kazán landowner. -Aunty Tatiána and she were not on friendly -terms; there was no open quarrel between them, but V. I. -Úshkof (Pelagéya's husband) had been a suitor for Tatiána's -hand in his youth, and had been refused. Pelagéya could -not forgive her husband's old love for Tatiána.</p> - -<p>The change of guardianship led to the removal of the -family to Kazán, and to the children being separated from -Aunty Tatiána, much to her grief.</p> - -<p>The books which up to the age of fourteen, when he -went to Kazán, had most influenced Tolstoy were, he tells -us, the Story of Joseph from the Bible, the <i>Forty Thieves</i> -and <i>Prince Kamaralzaman</i> from the <i>Arabian Nights</i>, various -Russian folk-legends, Poúshkin's <i>Tales</i> and his poem -<i>Napoleon</i>, and <i>The Black Hen</i> by Pogorélsky. The influence -the story of Joseph had on him, he says, was 'immense.'</p> - -<p>In his aptitude for abstract speculation, as in other -respects, the boy was truly father to the man; and in a -passage, certainly autobiographical, in <i>Boyhood</i>, he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">It will hardly be believed what were the favourite and most -common subjects of my reflections in my boyhood—so incompatible -were they with my age and situation. But in my -opinion incompatibility between a man's position and his moral -activity is the surest sign of truth....</p> - -<p class="i2">At one time the thought occurred to me that happiness does -not depend on external causes, but on our relation to them; -and that a man accustomed to bear suffering cannot be unhappy. -To accustom myself therefore to endurance, I would hold -Tatíshef's dictionaries in my outstretched hand for five minutes -at a time, though it caused me terrible pain; or I would go to -the lumber room and flog myself on my bare back with a cord -so severely that tears started to my eyes.</p> - -<p class="i2">At another time suddenly remembering that death awaits -me every hour and every minute, I decided (wondering why<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -people had not understood this before) that man can only be -happy by enjoying the present and not thinking of the future; -and for three days, under the influence of this thought, I abandoned -my lessons, and did nothing but lie on my bed and enjoy -myself, reading a novel and eating honey-gingerbreads, on -which I spent my last coins....</p> - -<p class="i2">But no philosophic current swayed me so much as scepticism, -which at one time brought me to the verge of insanity. I -imagined that except myself no one and nothing existed in the -world, that objects are not objects but apparitions, appearing -only when I pay attention to them and disappearing as soon as -I cease to think of them. In a word, I coincided with Schelling -in the conviction that what exists is not objects, but only my -relation to them. There were moments in which under the -influence of this fixed idea, I reached such a stage of absurdity -that I glanced quickly round hoping to catch Nothingness by -surprise, there where I was not.</p> - -<p class="i2">The philosophical discoveries I made greatly flattered my -vanity: I often imagined myself a great man, discovering new -truths for the benefit of humanity, and I looked on other mortals -with a proud consciousness of my own dignity; yet, strange to -say, when I came in contact with these mortals I grew timid -before each of them. The higher I stood in my own opinion -the less was I able to show any consciousness of my own dignity -before others, or even to avoid being ashamed of every word or -movement of my own—even the simplest.</p> - -<p>At the time of the move to Kazán, a serf lad of about -his own age was presented to each of the young Tolstoys -to attend on him. Alexis, the one given to Leo Tolstoy, -remained in his service all his life, and died at Yásnaya a -few years ago.</p> - - -<h3>1841</h3> - -<p>For five and a half years, from the autumn of 1841 -to the spring of 1847, the brothers lived at Kazán, returning -each summer to Yásnaya for the vacation. -They all entered Kazán University. The aunt -who was their guardian, and with whom they lived the -greater part of the time, was a kind but not particularly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -clever woman. Her house was the centre of much -hospitality and gaiety.</p> - - -<h3>1844</h3> - -<p>Leo Tolstoy prepared to enter the faculty of Oriental -Languages, in which a knowledge of Arabic and Turco-Tartar -was required. He worked hard, and matriculated -in May 1844 before he was sixteen, passing -in French (for which he received the mark 5+; 5 being -in an ordinary way the highest mark, and the + indicating -exceptional distinction), German, Arabic, and Turco-Tartar -very well, and in English, Logic, Mathematics and Russian -Literature, well; but he did indifferently in Latin, and -failed completely in History and Geography, getting the -lowest mark, a 1, for each of them. Of History he says, -'I knew nothing,' and of Geography 'still less'; adding, -'I was asked to name the French seaports, but I could -not name a single one.' At the end of the summer vacation -he was admitted for re-examination in the subjects in -which he had failed, and passed successfully.</p> - - -<h3>1844-1845</h3> - -<p>The winter season when Tolstoy, as a student at the -University and a young man of good position, entered -Kazán society, was a particularly gay one. He -attended many balls, given by the Governor of the -Province, by the <i>Maréchal de la Noblesse</i>, and by private -people, as well as many masquerades, concerts, tableaux-vivants, -and private theatricals. He is still remembered -by old inhabitants as having been 'present at all the balls, -soirées, and aristocratic parties, a welcome guest everywhere, -and always dancing, but, far from being a ladies' -man, he was distinguished by a strange awkwardness and -shyness.' At Carnival time in 1845 he and his brother -Sergius took parts in two plays given for some charitable -object. His performance was a great success.</p> - -<p>As to the nature of Kazán society and of his surroundings -there, accounts are contradictory. On the one hand, -we have his own statement that (imitating his brother -Sergius in this as in other matters) he became 'depraved.' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -Birukóf, too, speaks of 'the detestable surroundings of -Tolstoy's life in Kazán,' and another writer, Zagóskin, a -fellow-student of Tolstoy's at the University, says that the -surroundings in which the latter moved were demoralising -and must have been repellent to him. On the other hand, -on seeing Zagóskin's remarks, Tolstoy (in whom there is -often observable a strong spirit of contradiction) replied:</p> - -<p class="i2">I did not feel any repulsion, but was very glad to enjoy -myself in Kazán society, which was then very good. I am on -the contrary thankful to fate that I passed my first youth in -an environment where a young man could be young without -touching problems beyond his grasp, and that I lived a life -which, though idle and luxurious, was yet not evil.</p> - -<p>The explanation of these contradictions, no doubt, is that -the family circle in which Tolstoy lived was an affectionate -one, and that he himself not only enjoyed his life, but -formed friendships and made efforts at which in later -years he looked back with satisfaction. Yet there was -assuredly much in his life and in the life around him -which (except when others were severe on it) he recalled -with grave disapproval, a disapproval he has plainly -expressed in his <i>Confession</i>.</p> - -<p>To come as near as we may to the truth, we must allow -for the personal equation which, in Tolstoy's case, is violent -and fluctuating.</p> - -<p>With constant amusements going on around him, it is -not surprising that at the end of his first University year -he failed in his examinations. The failure does not however -appear to have been entirely his fault, for he tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2">Ivanóf, Professor of Russian History, prevented me from -passing to the second course (though I had not missed a single -lecture and knew Russian History quite well) because he had -quarrelled with my family. The same Professor also gave me -the lowest mark—a 'one'—for German, though I knew the -language incomparably better than any student in our division.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>1845</h3> - -<p>Instead of remaining for a second year in the first course -of Oriental Languages, Tolstoy preferred to leave that -faculty, and in August 1845 he entered the faculty -of Law. During the first months of this new -course he hardly studied at all, throwing himself more -than ever into the gay life of Kazán society. Before midwinter -however he began for the first time, as he tells us, -'to study seriously, and I even found a certain pleasure in -so doing.' Comparative Jurisprudence and Criminal Law -interested him, and his attention was especially arrested -by a discussion on Capital Punishment. Meyer, Professor -of Civil Law, set him a task which quite absorbed him; it -was the comparison of Montesquieu's <i>Esprit des Lois</i> with -Catherine the Second's <i>Great Nakaz</i>. The conclusion to -which he came was, that in Catherine's <i>Nakaz</i> one finds -Montesquieu's Liberal ideas mixed with the expression of -Catherine's own despotism and vanity, and that the <i>Nakaz</i> -brought more fame to Catherine than good to Russia.</p> - - -<h3>1846</h3> - -<p>He passed his examinations successfully in May 1846, -and was duly admitted to the second year's course of Jurisprudence. -Some time previously Tolstoy and -another student had disputed which of them had -the better memory, and to test this, each of them learnt -by heart the reply to one examination question in History. -Tolstoy's task was to learn the life of Mazeppa, and as -luck would have it that was just the question he happened -to draw at his examination, so that he naturally obtained -a 5, the highest mark.</p> - -<p>From the autumn of 1846 the three brothers, Sergius -Demetrius and Leo, ceased to live at their aunt's, and -settled in a flat of their own, consisting of five rooms.</p> - -<p>A fellow-student, Nazáryef, has given us his impression -of Tolstoy as a student. He says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I kept clear of the Count, who from our first meeting repelled -me by his assumption of coldness, his bristly hair and -the piercing expression of his half-closed eyes. I had never -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -met a young man with such a strange and, to me, incomprehensible -air of importance and self-satisfaction....</p> - -<p class="i2">At first I seldom met the Count, who in spite of his -awkwardness and bashfulness had joined the small group of -so-called 'aristocrats.' He hardly replied to my greetings, as -if wishing to intimate that even here we were far from being -equals, since he drove up with a fast trotter and I came on -foot....</p> - -<p>It so happened that Nazáryef and Tolstoy were both -late for a lecture on History one day, and were incarcerated -together by order of the Inspector.</p> - -<p>One gathers that Tolstoy was in those days particularly -careful of his personal appearance, his clothes indicating his -aristocratic pretensions. But though externally the Tolstoy -of 1846 differed greatly from the Tolstoy of forty years -later, his conversation ran on much the same lines as in -later life, and was uttered with the intensity of conviction -and the flashes of dry humour which have since made -even the most didactic of his writings so readable.</p> - -<p>Their conversation in their place of confinement having -led to some mention of Lérmontof's poem, <i>The Demon</i>, -Tolstoy took occasion to speak ironically of verse generally, -and then, noticing a volume his companion had of -Karamzín's <i>History of Russia</i>, he</p> - -<p class="i2">attacked History as the dullest and almost the most useless -of subjects. A collection of fables and useless details, sprinkled -with a mass of unnecessary figures and proper names.... -Who wants to know that the second marriage of John the -Terrible, with Temrúk's daughter, took place on 21st August -1562; and his fourth marriage, with Anna Alexéyevna Koltórsky, -in 1572? Yet they expect me to grind all this, and if -I don't, the examiner gives me a 'one.'</p> - -<p>Later on, says Nazáryef, 'the, to me, irresistible force -of Tolstoy's doubts fell upon the University, and on -University teaching in general. The phrase, "The Temple -of Science," was constantly on his lips. Remaining per<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>fectly -serious himself, he portrayed our professors in such -a comical light that, in spite of all my efforts to appear -indifferent, I laughed like one possessed.... "Yet," said -Tolstoy, "we both had a right to expect that we should -leave this temple useful men, equipped with knowledge. -But what shall we really carry away from the University?... -What shall we be good for, and to whom shall we be -necessary?"</p> - -<p>Nazáryef says that in spite of the feeling half of dislike, -half of perplexity, that Tolstoy evoked in him, he well -remembers that he was dimly conscious of something -remarkable, exceptional, and at the same time inexplicable, -about him.</p> - -<p>From the educational articles Tolstoy wrote sixteen -years later, we know that he disapproved of examinations, -of the restricted groove of studies marked out for the -students in each faculty, and of the system which made -it necessary for the professors to deliver original lectures -of their own, and obliged the students to listen to those -lectures and to study them, however incompetent the -professors might be.</p> - - -<h3>1847</h3> - -<p>The fact that his brother Sergius had finished his -studies and was leaving, strengthened Tolstoy's dissatisfaction -with the University; and finally, without waiting for -the May examinations at which he might have qualified -for the third year's course, we find him, soon after Easter -1847, applying to have his name removed from -the University roll 'on account of ill-health and -family affairs.' He really had been in hospital in March, -but the plea of ill-health was a mere excuse.</p> - -<p>His failure to take a degree was a source of great -annoyance and disappointment to him, and it must not be -supposed that he left Kazán with any idea of taking life -easily or neglecting further study.</p> - -<p>From the time he was a boy he had kept a diary of -every little sin he had committed, and especially of any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -offence against the Seventh Commandment, in order that -he might repent, and if possible refrain for the future, and -his diary shows how full he was at this time of strenuous -resolutions. During the last year of his life at Kazán he -made close friends with a student named Dyákof (the -Nehlúdof of <i>Boyhood</i>), and under his influence had -developed</p> - -<p class="i2">an ecstatic worship of the ideal of virtue, and the conviction -that it is man's destiny continually to perfect himself. To put -all mankind right and to destroy all human vices and misfortunes, -appeared a matter that could well be accomplished. It seemed -quite easy and simple to put oneself right, to acquire all the -virtues, and to be happy.</p> - -<p>Here are some rules he set himself at that time:</p> - -<p class="i2">1. To fulfil what I set myself, despite all obstacles.</p> - -<p class="i2">2. To fulfil well what I do undertake.</p> - -<p class="i2">3. Never to refer to a book for what I have forgotten, but -always to try to recall it to mind myself.</p> - -<p class="i2">4. Always to make my mind work with its utmost power.</p> - -<p class="i2">5. Always to read and think aloud.</p> - -<p class="i2">6. Not to be ashamed of telling people who interrupt me, -that they are hindering me: letting them first feel it, but (if -they do not understand) telling them, with an apology.</p> - -<p>Deciding to settle at Yásnaya for two years, he drew up -a list of studies he intended to pursue for his own mental -development, and to qualify for a University degree; and -this list was, as the reader will see, appalling in its -scope.</p> - -<p class="i2">1. To study the whole course of law necessary to get my -degree.</p> - -<p class="i2">2. To study practical medicine, and to some extent its theory -also.</p> - -<p class="i2">3. To study: French, Russian, German, English, Italian, and -Latin.</p> - -<p class="i2">4. To study agriculture, theoretically and practically.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i2">5. To study History, Geography, and Statistics.</p> - -<p class="i2">6. To study Mathematics (the High School course).</p> - -<p class="i2">7. To write my [University] thesis.</p> - -<p class="i2">8. To reach the highest perfection I can in music and -painting.</p> - -<p class="i2">9. To write down rules (for my conduct).</p> - -<p class="i2">10. To acquire some knowledge of the natural sciences, and,</p> - -<p class="i2">11. To write essays on all the subjects I study.</p> - -<p>Such rules and resolutions abound in Tolstoy's Diary. -After failing to act up to them, he again and again -gathers his energies and maps out for himself plans of life -and courses of study sufficient to tax the energies of an -intellectual giant.</p> - -<p>As to his religious opinions at this time, he tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2">I was baptized and brought up in the Orthodox Christian -faith. I was taught it in childhood and all through my boyhood -and youth. But before I left the University, in my -second year, at the age of eighteen, I no longer believed anything -I had been taught. (<i>Confession.</i>)</p> - -<p>His Diary nevertheless shows that he prayed frequently -and earnestly; the fact no doubt being, that though -intellectually he discarded the Orthodox Russo-Greek -Church, in times of trouble or distress he instinctively -appealed to God for help. His opinions were wavering -and immature, as he himself tells us in another passage:</p> - -<p class="i2">The religious beliefs taught me in childhood disappeared... -and as from the time I was fifteen I began to read philosophic -works, my rejection of those beliefs very soon became a conscious -one. From the age of sixteen I ceased going to Church -and fasting of my own accord. I did not believe what had -been taught me from childhood, but I believed in something. -What it was I believed in, I could not at all have said. I -believed in a God, or rather I did not deny God; but I could -not have said what sort of God. Neither did I deny Christ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -and his teaching, but what his teaching consisted in I could -also not have said.</p> - -<p class="i2">Looking back on that time now, I see clearly that my faith—my -only real faith, that which apart from my animal instincts -gave impulse to my life—was a belief in perfecting oneself. -But in what this perfecting consisted and what its object was, -I could not have said. I tried to perfect myself mentally—I -studied everything I could: anything life threw in my way; -I tried to perfect my will, I drew up rules which I tried to -follow; I perfected myself physically, cultivating my strength -and agility by all sorts of exercises and accustoming myself to -endurance and patience by all kinds of privations. And all -this I considered to be perfecting myself. The beginning of -it all was, of course, moral perfecting; but that was soon -replaced by perfecting in general: by the desire to be better, -not in one's own eyes or those of God, but in the eyes of -other people. And very soon this effort again changed into a -desire to be stronger than others: to be more famous, more -important and richer than others. (<i>Confession.</i>)</p> - -<p>When speaking of Tolstoy's relations with women, it -should be borne in mind that incontinence for young men -was then considered so natural that few of them in his -position would have felt any serious qualms of conscience -about such visits to houses of ill-fame as he lets us know -that he began to pay at this time. His brother Dmítry -however led a chaste life, and alternating with gross -lapses of conduct, we find Leo noting down for his own -guidance such resolutions as the following:</p> - -<p class="i2">To regard the society of women as a necessary unpleasantness -of social life, and to keep away from them as much as -possible. From whom indeed do we get sensuality, effeminacy, -frivolity in everything, and many other vices, if not from -women? Whose fault is it, if not women's, that we lose our -innate qualities of boldness, resolution, reasonableness, justice, -etc.? Women are more receptive than men, therefore in -virtuous ages women were better than we; but in the present -depraved and vicious age they are worse than we are.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -During his years at the University, Tolstoy saw much of -his brother Dmítry, of whom he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I remember also at the University that when my elder -brother Dmítry, suddenly in the passionate way natural to -him devoted himself to religion and began to attend all the -Church services, to fast, and to lead a pure and moral life, we -all, and even our elders, unceasingly held him up to ridicule -and called him, for some unknown reason, 'Noah.' I remember -that Moúsin-Poúshkin (then Curator of Kazán University), -when inviting us to a dance at his house, ironically remonstrated -with my brother, who had declined the invitation, and -used the argument that even David danced before the Ark. -I sympathised with these jokes my elders made, and deduced -from them the conclusion that though it is necessary to learn -the catechism and go to church, one must not take such things -too seriously. (<i>Confession.</i>)</p> - -<p>Again we read of this brother:</p> - - -<p class="i2">His peculiarities became manifest, and are impressed on my -mind from the time of our life at Kazán. Formerly in Moscow -I remember that he did not fall in love, as Seryózha and I did, -and was not fond of dancing or of military pageants, but studied -well and strenuously.... At Kazán I, who had always imitated -Seryózha, began to grow depraved.... Not only at Kazán, -but even earlier, I used to take pains about my appearance. I -tried to be elegant, <i>comme il faut</i>. There was no trace of anything -of this kind in Mítenka. I think he never suffered from -the usual vices of youth; he was always serious thoughtful -pure and resolute, though hot-tempered, and whatever he did, -he did to the best of his ability.... He wrote verses with -great facility. I remember how admirably he translated -Schiller's <i>Der Jüngling am Bache</i>, but he did not devote himself -to this occupation.... He grew up associating little with -others, always—except in his moments of anger—quiet and -serious. He was tall, rather thin, and not very strong, with -long, large hands and round shoulders. I do not know how or -by what he was attracted at so early an age towards a religious -life, but it began in the very first year of his University career.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -His religious aspirations naturally directed him to Church life, -and he devoted himself to this with his usual thoroughness.</p> - -<p class="i2">In Mítenka there must have existed that valuable characteristic -which I believe my mother to have had, and which I -knew in Nikólenka, but of which I was altogether devoid—complete -indifference to other people's opinion about oneself. -Until quite lately (in old age) I have never been able to divest -myself of concern about people's opinion; but Mítenka was -quite free from this. I never remember on his face that -restrained smile which involuntarily appears when one is being -praised. I always remember his serious quiet sad, sometimes -severe, almond-shaped hazel eyes. Only in our Kazán days -did we begin to pay particular attention to him, and then -merely because, while Seryózha and I attached great importance -to what was <i>comme il faut</i>—to externalities—he was careless -and untidy, and we condemned him for this.</p> - -<p class="i2">We others, especially Seryózha, kept up acquaintance with -our aristocratic comrades and other young men. Mítenka on -the contrary selected out of all the students a piteous-looking, -poor, shabbily dressed youth, Poluboyárinof [which may be -translated Half-noble]—whom a humorous fellow-student of -ours called Polubezobédof [Half-dinnerless]—and consorted -only with him, and with him prepared for the examinations.... -We brothers, and even our aunt, looked down on Mítenka -with a certain contempt for his low tastes and associates; -and the same attitude was adopted by our frivolous comrades.</p> - -<p>After their University days were over, Tolstoy saw -little of his brother Demetrius; so it will be convenient -here to sacrifice chronological sequence and say what more -there is to tell of the latter's life and death. The -material is again supplied by Tolstoy's Reminiscences.</p> - -<p class="i2">When we divided up the family property, according to -custom the estate where we lived, Yásnaya Polyána, was -given to me. Seryózha, as a lover of horses and according -to his wish, received Pirogóvo, where there was a stud. To -Mítenka and Nikólenka were given the two other estates: to -Nikólenka, Nikolsky; to Mítenka, the Kursk estate, Sherbatchóvka. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -I have kept a note of Mítenka's, showing how he -regarded the possession of serfs. The idea that it is wrong, -and that serfs ought to be liberated, was quite unknown in -our circle in the 'forties. The hereditary possession of serfs -seemed a necessary condition of life, and all that could be -done to prevent its being an evil, was to attend not only to -their material but also to their moral welfare. In this sense -Mítenka wrote very seriously naďvely and sincerely. Thinking -he could not do otherwise, he, a lad of twenty, when he -left the University took it upon himself to direct the morality -of hundreds of peasant families, and to do this (as Gógol -recommended in his <i>Letters to a Landowner</i>) by threats of -punishments and by punishments.... But, besides this duty -to his serfs, there was another duty which at that time it -seemed impossible not to fulfil: namely, Military or Civil -service. And Mítenka decided to enter the Civil Service.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy proceeds to tell how his brother, desiring to be -useful to his country, chose legislation as his speciality, -and going to Petersburg astonished the Head of the -Department as well as certain aristocratic acquaintances by -asking where he could find a place in which he could be -<i>useful</i>. The friend to whom he went for advice, regarded -the service of the State merely as a means of satisfying -ambition, and 'such a question had probably never -occurred to him before.' Eventually we find Demetrius -returning home discouraged, and taking up some local -work. All this, to some extent, helps us to understand -Leo Tolstoy's sceptical attitude towards the institution of -Government, and his strong belief that men in Government -service are solely actuated by selfish motives.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy continues:</p> - -<p class="i2">After we had both left the University, I lost sight of him. -I know he lived the same severe, abstemious life, knowing -neither wine tobacco nor, above all, women, till he was -twenty-six, which was very rare in those days. I know also -that he associated with monks and pilgrims.... I think I -was already in the Caucasus when an extraordinary change -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -took place. He suddenly took to drinking smoking wasting -money and going with women. How it happened I do not -know; I did not see him at the time. I only know that his -seducer was a thoroughly immoral man of very attractive -appearance, the youngest son of Islényef [an uncle of the -lady Leo Tolstoy subsequently married].</p> - -<p class="i2">In this life Mítenka remained the same serious religious -man he was in everything. He ransomed from the brothel a -prostitute named Másha, who was the first woman he knew, -and took her into his house. But this life did not last long. I -believe it was less the vicious and unhealthy life he led for -some months in Moscow, than his mental struggle and his -qualms of conscience, that suddenly destroyed his powerful -organism. He became consumptive, went to the country, was -doctored in the provincial town, and took to his bed in Orél, -where I saw him for the last time just after the Crimean war. -He was in a dreadful state of emaciation: one could even see -how his enormous hand joined on to the two bones of his -lower arm; his face was all eyes, and they were still the same -beautiful serious eyes, with a penetrating expression of inquiry -in them. He was constantly coughing and spitting, but was -loth to die, and reluctant to believe he was dying. Poor pockmarked -Másha, whom he had rescued, was with him and nursed -him. In my presence, at his own wish, a wonder-working icon -was brought. I remember the expression of his face when he -prayed to it.... He died a few days later!</p> - -<p>Students of the didactic writings of Tolstoy's later -years will notice how closely his injunctions to a man to -keep to the first woman, whoever she be, with whom he -has had intimate relations, correspond with the line -actually followed by his brother Demetrius.</p> - -<p>When Tolstoy left the University, however, these things -were still unthought of. Let us, before returning to the -events of his own life at that time, notice some books which -he read between the ages of fourteen and twenty-one. -They included:</p> - -<p>The Sermon on the Mount from St. Matthew's Gospel,</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -Rousseau's <i>Confession</i> and <i>Émile</i>, and<br /> -Dickens's <i>David Copperfield</i>,</p> - -<p>which all had an 'immense' influence on him.</p> - -<p>In another category came works which he says had -'very great' influence. These were:</p> - -<p class="i2">Rousseau's <i>Nouvelle Héloďse</i>,<br /> -Sterne's <i>Sentimental Journey</i>,<br /> -Poúshkin's <i>Eugene Onégin</i>,<br /> -Schiller's <i>The Robbers</i>,<br /> -Gógol's <i>Dead Souls</i>,<br /> -Tourgénef's <i>A Sportsman's Sketches</i>,<br /> -Drouzhínin's <i>Pólenka Sax</i>,<br /> -Grigoróvitch's <i>Antón Goremýka</i>, and the chapter <i>Tamán</i> from Lérmontof's <i>A Hero of Our Times</i>.</p> - -<p>In a third category he mentions some of Gógol's -Shorter Stories, and Prescott's <i>Conquest of Mexico</i>, as -having had 'great' influence.</p> - -<p>In these works one finds many ideas which have been -congenial to Tolstoy throughout his life, and his adhesion -to which has only become firmer with age. In illustration -of this, take a couple of passages from Dickens which -many readers may have passed without much attention, -but which to Tolstoy represented the absolute truth of -the matters they touch on. David Copperfield says of -Parliament:</p> - -<p class="i2">...I considered myself reasonably entitled to escape from -the dreary debates. One joyful night, therefore, I noted down -the music of the parliamentary bagpipes for the last time, and -I have never heard it since; though I still recognise the old -drone in the newspapers without any substantial variation -(except, perhaps, that there is more of it) all the livelong -session.</p> - -<p>To most Englishmen with memories of Pym and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -Hampden, or personal knowledge of the lives of men who -have devoted themselves disinterestedly to public affairs, -Parliamentary or local, Dickens's sneer at Parliament seems -but a paradox or a joke; but to Tolstoy, with his inherited -dislike of Government, this testimony from a great -English writer (who had served as a Parliamentary reporter) -seemed irrefutable evidence of the futility of Parliaments.</p> - -<p>Take, again, a passage in which Dickens hits a nail -adroitly on the head:</p> - -<p class="i2">Mr. Micawber had a relish in this formal piling up of words, -which, however ludicrously displayed in his case, was, I must -say, not at all peculiar to him. I have observed it, in the -course of my life, in numbers of men. It seems to me to -be a general rule. In the taking of legal oaths, for instance, -deponents seem to enjoy themselves mightily when they come -to several grand words in succession, for the expression of one -idea—as, that they utterly detest, abominate, and abjure, and -so forth—and the old anathemas were made relishing on the -same principle. We talk about the tyranny of words, but we -like to tyrannise over them too. We are fond of having a large -superfluous establishment of words to wait upon us on great -occasions; we think it looks important, and sounds well. As -we are not particular about the meaning of our liveries on -State occasions, if they be but fine and numerous enough, so -the meaning or necessity of our words is a secondary consideration, -if there be but a great parade of them.</p> - -<p>No modern writer has ever more carefully eschewed the -practice Dickens here attacks than Tolstoy has done throughout -his career. Indeed, he is far stricter than Dickens -in this respect.</p> - -<p>But much more important than the influence of Dickens -was that of Rousseau, of whom Tolstoy once remarked:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have read the whole of Rousseau—all his twenty volumes, -including his <i>Dictionary of Music</i>. I was more than enthusiastic -about him, I worshipped him. At the age of fifteen I wore a -medallion portrait of him next my body instead of the Orthodox -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -cross. Many of his pages are so akin to me that it seems to -me that I must have written them myself.</p> - -<p>Another writer who influenced Tolstoy, though to a -very much smaller extent, was Voltaire, of whom he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I also remember that I read Voltaire when I was very young, -and his ridicule (of religion) not only did not shock me, but -amused me very much.</p> - -<p>Everything Tolstoy has done in his life he has done with -intensity; and that this applies to the way in which he -read books in his youth, is shown by the fact that we find -him as an old man, in 1898, in <i>What is Art?</i> according -the highest praise to books he had read before he was -twenty-one, or even before he was fourteen.</p> - -<p>It was in the spring of 1847 that Tolstoy, who was -not yet nineteen, returned to his estate of Yásnaya -Polyána, to live with his dear Aunty Tatiána; to 'perfect' -himself, to study, to manage his estate, and to improve -the condition of his serfs. The last part of this programme, -at any rate, was not destined to have much -success. Though one must never treat Tolstoy's fiction as -strictly autobiographical, yet <i>A Squire's Morning</i> gives a -very fair idea of his own efforts to improve the lot of his -serfs, and of the difficulties and failures he encountered -in the course of that attempt. In that story Prince -Nehlúdof decides to leave the University and settle in the -country, and writes to his aunt:</p> - -<p class="i2">As I already wrote you, I found affairs in indescribable disorder. -Wishing to put them right, I discovered that the chief -evil is the truly pitiable, wretched condition of the serfs, and -this is an evil that can only be remedied by work and patience. -If you could but see two of my serfs, David and Iván, and the -life they and their families lead, I am sure the sight of these -two poor wretches would convince you more than all I can say -in explanation of my intention.</p> - -<p class="i2">Is it not my plain and sacred duty to care for the welfare of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -these seven hundred people for whom I must account to God? -Will it not be a sin if, following plans of pleasure or ambition, -I abandon them to the caprice of coarse Elders and stewards? -And why should I seek in any other sphere opportunities of -being useful and doing good, when I have before me such a -noble brilliant and intimate duty?</p> - -<p>Not only is this letter just such as Tolstoy himself -may have written, but the difficulties Nehlúdof encounters -when he tries to move his peasants from the ruts -to which generations of serfdom had accustomed them, are -just those Tolstoy himself met with: the suspicion shown -by the serfs towards any fresh interference on the part of -the master, and the fact that ways to which a community -have grown accustomed are not easily changed by the -sudden effort of a well-intentioned but inexperienced -proprietor.</p> - -<p>After spending the summer of 1847 at Yásnaya, Tolstoy -went to Petersburg, where we find him settled in autumn; -and early next year he entered for examination at the -University of that city.</p> - - -<h3>1848</h3> - -<p>On the 13th of the following February he wrote to his -brother Sergius:</p> - -<p class="i2">I write you this letter from Petersburg, where I intend to -remain <i>for ever</i>.... I have decided to stay here for my -examinations and then to enter the service....</p> - -<p class="i2">In brief, I must say that Petersburg life has a great and -food influence on me: it accustoms me to activity and supplies -the place of a fixed table of occupations. Somehow one -cannot be idle; every one is occupied and active; one cannot -find a man with whom one could lead an aimless life, and one -can't do it alone....</p> - -<p class="i2">I know you will not believe that I have changed, but will -say, 'It's already the twentieth time, and nothing comes of -you—the emptiest of fellows.' No, I have now altered in -quite a new way. I used to say to myself: 'Now I will -change,' but at last I see that I <i>have</i> changed, and I say, 'I -have changed.'</p> - -<p class="i2">Above all, I am now quite convinced that one cannot live -by theorising and philosophising, but must live positively, <i>i.e.</i> -must be a practical man. That is a great step in advance and -a great change; it never happened to me before. If one is -young and wishes to live, there is no place in Russia but Petersburg -for it....</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="p048"><img src="images/p048.jpg" width="450" -height="617" alt="" title="" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - <span class="smcap">Tolstoy in 1848, after he had left the University.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -On the 1st of May he wrote again to his brother, in a -very different strain:</p> - -<p class="i2">Seryózha! I think you already say I am 'the emptiest of -fellows,' and it is true. God knows what I have done! I came -to Petersburg without any reason, and have done nothing useful -here, but have spent heaps of money and got into debt. -Stupid! Insufferably stupid! You can't believe how it -torments me. Above all, the <i>debts</i>, which I <i>must</i> pay <i>as soon as -possible</i>, because if I don't pay them soon, besides losing the -money, I shall lose my reputation.... I know you will cry -out; but what's to be done? One commits such folly once -in a lifetime. I have had to pay for my freedom (there was -no one to thrash me, that was my chief misfortune) and for -philosophising, and now I have paid for it. Be so kind as to -arrange to get me out of this false and horrid position—penniless -and in debt all round.</p> - -<p>He goes on to mention that he had passed two examinations -at the University, but that he had altered his mind, -and now, instead of completing his examinations, wanted -to 'enter the Horse Guards as a Junker.' (A Junker was -a young man who volunteered for the army as a Cadet. -Before receiving a commission, a Junker lived with the -officers, while preparing to become one of them.)</p> - - -<p class="i2">God willing, I will amend and become a steady man at last, -I hope much from my service as a Junker, which will train me -to practical life, and <i>nolens-volens</i> I shall have to earn the rank -of officer. With luck, <i>i.e.</i> if the Guards go into action, I may -get a commission even before the usual two years are up. The -Guards start for the front at the end of May. At present I -can do nothing: first, because I have no money (of which I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -shall not need much, I fancy), and secondly, because my two -birth-certificates are at Yásnaya. Have them sent on as soon -as possible.</p> - -<p>Before long, Tolstoy was again writing to his brother:</p> - -<p class="i2">In my last letter I wrote much nonsense, of which the chief -item was that I intended to enter the Horse Guards; I shall -act on that plan only in case I fail in my examinations, and if -the war is a serious one.</p> - -<p>The war in question was Russia's share in quelling the -Hungarian rebellion of 1849. Not a thought of the justice -or otherwise of the cause seems at that time to have -crossed the mind of him who in later life became so powerful -an indicter of war.</p> - -<p>This is Tolstoy's own summary, written many years -later, of the period we are now dealing with:</p> - -<p class="i2">It was very pleasant living in the country with Aunty -Tatiána, but an indefinite thirst for knowledge drew me away -to a distance. This was in 1848, and I was still uncertain -what to undertake. In Petersburg two roads were open to -me. I could either enter the army, to take part in the -Hungarian campaign, or I could complete my studies at the -University, to enter the Civil Service. My thirst for knowledge -conquered my ambition, and I again began to study. I even -passed two examinations in Law, but then all my good resolutions -broke down. Spring came, and the charm of country life -again drew me back to my estate.</p> - -<p>Of the two examinations he passed at this time he -says:</p> - -<p class="i2">In 1848 I went to pass the examinations for my degree at -Petersburg University, knowing literally nothing, and reading -up during only one week. I worked day and night; and -passed with Honours in Civil and Criminal Law.</p> - -<p>But in spite of this success he did not take the remaining -examinations, and returned to Yásnaya without having -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -obtained a degree—finally abandoning the attempt to -do so.</p> - -<p>In later times, when Tolstoy's reputation was world-wide, -critics often amused themselves by detecting inconsistencies -in his conduct and questioning his sincerity. -But the proof of his sincerity is writ large in the story of -his life. Time after time, from the earliest pages of his -Diary, we find him vehemently resolving never more to do -certain things, but always to do other things, and again -and again confessing in the greatest tribulation, that he -had failed to carry out his intentions; yet in spite of -everything he returns, and again returns, to his earliest -ideals and gradually shapes his life into accord with them, -and eventually forms habits which, when he first extolled -them, appeared utterly beyond his reach. Not insincerity -but impetuosity, retrieved by extraordinary tenacity of -purpose, has always characterised him. It was the same -with his thirst for knowledge as with his yet deeper thirst -after righteousness. Often as he was swayed by the lures of -life, each of those two great desires found its satisfaction -at last.</p> - -<p>The letters quoted above show some consciousness of -the fact that there is a practical side to life not to be -mastered by theorising; but the duty of learning by experience -as well as by ratiocination is one Tolstoy has -very seldom dwelt on, and never, I think, realised at all -fully.</p> - -<p>Another characteristic matter alluded to in these letters -is the difficulty he found himself in for lack of his birth-certificates -and other papers. Russia has long suffered -from a superabundance of red tape, which contrasts -strongly with the slipshod habits of its people, and promotes -the hatred of officialism that is there so common. -The fact that Tolstoy has on several occasions been put to -great inconvenience for lack of certificates, which it was -not in his nature methodically to keep in readiness, is a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -small matter, but it has probably had its share in increasing -his strong dislike of governments.</p> - -<p>From Petersburg he brought back with him to Yásnaya -a gifted but drunken German musician named Rudolph, -with whom he had chanced to make acquaintance, and -whose talent he had discerned. For some time Tolstoy -devoted himself passionately to music, acquiring sufficient -skill on the piano to become an excellent and sympathetic -accompanist. He was always very susceptible to the influence -of music, and in music, as in literature, he had -strong sympathies and antipathies. Rudolph supplies the -principal figure in Tolstoy's story <i>Albert</i>, written several -years later.</p> - -<p>Aunt Tatiána, who had played the piano excellently in -youth, but had quite given it up for nearly thirty years, -and who was now fifty-three years of age, resumed its -practice and, Tolstoy tells us, played duets with him, and -often surprised him by the accuracy and beauty of her -execution.</p> - -<p>For the next three years he lived partly at Yásnaya and -partly in Moscow, and led a life alternating between the -asceticism of his brother Demetrius and the self-indulgence -of his brother Sergius; with dissipation, hunting, gambling, -and the society of gipsy-girl singers. These were -among the wildest and most wasted years of his life; but -even here we find him, in the summer of 1850, resuming -his Diary with penitence and self-reproach, and drawing -up a time-table of how his days are in future to be spent: -estate management, bathing, diary-writing, music, dinner, -rest, reading, bathing, and again estate business to close -the day. This curriculum was, however, neglected. Gusts -of passion again swept away his good resolutions.</p> - - -<h3>1849</h3> - -<p>At this time he made his first attempt to start a -school for the peasant children of Yásnaya; but it was -closed again two years later when he was in pecuniary difficulties; -and it was not till 1862 that he discovered that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -he had infringed the law by opening it without official -permission.</p> - -<p>In relation to women, Tolstoy's ideal was a regular and -affectionate family life. Women were for him divided -into two groups: those sacred ones who could be looked on -as possible wives or sisters, and those who, like the gipsy -singers, could be paid for and possessed for short periods. -To try to wipe out by a money payment any obligation -arising from intimate relations, seems to have been his -fixed rule. His animal passions were very strong, and late -in life I have heard him say that neither drinking, cards, -smoking, nor any other bad habit, had been nearly so hard -for him to overcome as his desire for women. But he -never doubted that that desire was a bad one. To judge -him fairly, it must be remembered how loose was the -general tone of the society in which he lived, and that -the advice given him at this critical time of his life -by those who were his natural guides, was not that he -should live a chaste life, but that he should attach himself -to a woman of good social position. In his <i>Confession</i> he -tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2">The kind aunt with whom I lived, herself the purest of -beings, always told me that there was nothing she so desired -for me as that I should have relations with a married woman: -'<i>Rien ne forme un jeune homme, comme une liaison avec une femme -comme il faut</i>' [Nothing so forms a young man, as an intimacy -with a woman of good breeding]. Another happiness she -desired for me was that I should become an aide-de-camp, and if -possible aide-de-camp to the Emperor. But the greatest happiness -of all would be that I should marry a very rich girl and -become possessed of as many serfs as possible.</p> - -<p>We never find Tolstoy involved in any family scandal, or -called on to fight a duel about women; but his Diary at -this period contains many traces of his struggles and his -falls; as when he writes:</p> - - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -Men whom I consider morally lower than myself, do evil -better than I.... I live an animal life, though not quite -debauched. My occupations are almost all abandoned, and -I am greatly depressed in spirit.</p> - -<p>His pecuniary affairs became disordered, owing to his -gambling and other bad habits, and towards the end of -1850 he thought of trying to earn money by taking on a -contract to run the post-station at Toúla, which before -railways were built was an undertaking of some importance. -Varied however as Tolstoy's abilities unquestionably are, -Nature never intended him to be a man of business, and -this plan fortunately came to nothing.</p> - - -<h3>1850-1851</h3> - -<p>The winter of 1850-51 he passed for the most part -in Moscow, and as a foretaste of the simplification of life -which was to be such a prominent feature of his later -years, we find him writing to his aunt at Yásnaya: -'<i>Je dîne ŕ la maison avec des stchi et kasha dont je me contente -parfaitement</i>' [I dine at home on cabbage soup and -buckwheat porridge, with which I am quite contented]; -and he goes on to say that he only awaits the preserves and -home-made liqueurs (which she no doubt sent him) to have -everything as he was accustomed to have it in the country.</p> - -<p>We find Aunty Tatiána warning him against card-playing. -Tolstoy replies in French:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>Tout ce que vous me dîtes au sujet de la perversité du jeu -est trčs vrai et me revient souvent ŕ l'esprit. C'est pourquoi -je crois que je ne jouerai plus.... 'Je crois,' mais j'espčre -bientôt vous dire pour sűr.</p> - - -<h3>1851</h3> - -<p>In March 1851 he returned to Moscow after visiting -Yásnaya, and he notes in his Diary that he went there -with the treble aim of playing cards, getting married, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -and entering the Civil Service. Not one of these three -objects was attained. He took an aversion to cards. For -marriage he considered a conjunction of love, reason, -and fate to be necessary, and none of these was present. -As to entering the service, it was again the fact that -he had not brought the necessary documents with him that -barred the way.</p> - -<p>In March he writes to Aunty Tatiána and says he believes -it to be true that spring brings a moral renovation. It -always does him good, and he is able to maintain his good -intentions for some months. Winter is the season that -causes him to go wrong.</p> - -<p>Next came a period of religious humility: he fasted -diligently and composed a sermon, which of course was -never preached. He also tried unsuccessfully to write a gipsy -story and an imitation of Sterne's <i>Sentimental Journey</i>.</p> - -<p>This period of his life was brought to a close by the -return from the Caucasus, on leave of absence, of his -eldest brother Nicholas, who was by this time an artillery -officer.</p> - -<p>Anxious to economise and pay off the debts he had contracted -at cards, especially one of Rs. 4000 to Ogaryóf, a -gendarme officer, who owned a small estate not far from Yásnaya, -Leo resolved to accompany his brother on the latter's -return to the Caucasus. He entrusted his estate to the care -of his brother-in-law (Mary's husband), who was to pay his -debts and allow him only Rs. 500 (then equal to about Ł80) -a year to live on, and he gave his word not to play cards -any more.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy had another reason for wishing to escape from -his accustomed surroundings. His brother Sergius was very -fond of the gipsy choirs, famous in Russia for their musical -talent. These choirs used to visit Yásnaya, and Leo Tolstoy, -who shared his brother's susceptibility to the fascinations -of the gipsy girls, saw a means of safety in flight to the -Caucasus.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<p>Before closing this chapter, let us note the extraordinary -freedom enjoyed by young men of Tolstoy's class in those -days of serfdom. Economically, serfdom supplied them with -means, at the expense of a class deprived of almost all rights -and absolutely dependent on their owners. Even if a member -of the aristocracy ruined himself, family interest or a -prudent marriage often retrieved the position for him. -Religious restraint counted for little, for side by side with -superstition, scepticism was common among the educated. -The standard of morals expected of a young man was -elastic and ill-defined. No irksome sense of public duty -pressed on his attention. Politics, in our sense of the -word, were forbidden; and though he had to enter the -State service (civil or military), this was regarded either -as a way of making a career for himself, or as a mere -formality.</p> - -<p>The detachment from the real business of life in which -young Russians grew up, and the comparative isolation in -which they lived on their country estates, explain the -extremely radical conclusions often arrived at by those of -them who wished to make the world better. Chain a man -to the heavily laden car of social progress, and he can only -advance very slowly, though any advance he does accomplish -represents much effort and is of practical importance. -Detach him from that car, and he may easily and pleasantly -fly away on the winds of speculation to the uttermost realm -of the highest heaven, without its producing any immediately -perceptible result on the lives of his fellow-men. -What I mean is, that the less a man is involved in -practical work, the easier and pleasanter it is for him to -take up extreme positions; I do not mean to deny that -activity in the realm of thought and feeling exerts an -unseen yet potent influence on other minds, and ultimately -on practical affairs.</p> - -<p>A knowledge of the social surroundings in which Tolstoy -grew up makes it easier to understand the doctrines he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -subsequently taught. It was partly because he grew up in a -detached and irresponsible position that the state of his own -mind and soul were to him so much more important than -the immediate effect of his conduct on others, and the same -cause led him to remain in ignorance of lessons every intelligent -man of business among us learns of necessity.</p> - -<p>His independent position made easier the formation of -that state of mind free from intellectual prejudice which -enabled him later on to examine the claims of the Church, -of the Bible, of the economists, of governments, and the most -firmly established manners and customs of society, untrammelled -by the fear of shocking or hurting other people, -though all the time his feelings were so sensitive that it has -never been possible for him to doubt or question the goodness -of those lines of conduct which he had admired and -approved when in childhood he saw them practised by those -near and dear to him.</p> - -<p>Contrasting his moral attitude with that of a young -Englishman anxious to do right in our day, I should say -that Tolstoy had no adequate sense of being a responsible -member of a complex community with the opinions and -wishes of which it is necessary to reckon. On the contrary, -his tendency was to recognise with extraordinary vividness -a personal duty revealed by the working of his own conscience -and intellect apart from any systematic study of -the social state of which he was a member.</p> - -<p>He thus came to see things in a way we do not see them, -while he remained blind to some things with which we are -quite familiar. That is one reason why he is so extraordinarily -interesting: he puts things in a way no Englishman -would ever dream of putting them, and yet we feel how -near akin we of the Western twentieth-century world are to -this nineteenth-century Russian noble, who has so much in -common with the medieval saint and the Oriental fatalist; -and this helps us to realise that all nations and classes of -men are, indeed, of one blood.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> - -<p>Later on, in the sequel to this work, when we have to deal -with Tolstoy's peaceful anarchism and his conviction that -no external regulation of society is necessary, but that all -men would naturally do right were they not hampered by -man-made laws, it will be useful to bear in mind that -his own strength grew through having to steer unaided -through the stormy seas of passion, and from finding his -own way to a haven the lights of which had first shone on -him in childhood. Like the rest of mankind, he judges -others by himself.</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER II</h3> - -<p>Birukof.</p> - -<p>Behrs.</p> - -<p><i>Novy Mir.</i></p> - -<p><i>Education and Instruction</i>, and <i>On the Education of the People</i>, in -vol. iv. of Tolstoy's collected works: Moscow, 1903.</p> - -<p><i>Confession.</i> Published by the <i>Svobodnoe Slovo</i>, Christchurch, -1901.</p> - -<p>Prof. Zagoskin, <i>Stoudentcheskie gody gr. Tolstogo</i>, in <i>Istoritchesky -Vestnik</i>: January 1894.</p> - -<p>V. N. Nazaryef, <i>Zhizn i ludi bylogo vremeni</i>, in <i>Istoritchesky Vestnik</i>: -November 1900.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's talk with Pogodin, quoted in Mihaylovsky's <i>Literary -Recollections</i>: Petersburg, 1900.</p> - -<p><i>L. N. Tolstoy.</i> By E. Solovef: Petersburg, 1897.</p> - -<p>Light is also thrown on this period by Tolstoy's <i>Childhood</i>, <i>Boyhood</i>, -and <i>Youth</i>, <i>The Memoirs of a Billiard Marker</i>, <i>Two Hussars</i>, -<i>A Squire's Morning</i>, and <i>Albert</i> (which, however, are not autobiographies), -as well as by stories included in Tolstoy's Readers for -School-children—<i>The Old Horse</i> and <i>How I Learned to Ride</i>.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap3">CHAPTER III<br /> -THE CAUCASUS</h2> - -<p class="i2">Journey. Russian Conquest. Letters to Aunt Tatiána. Diary. -Cossacks. He volunteers. Enters army. Hádji Mourát. -Story of a gaming debt. Sádo. Dreams for the future. -<i>Childhood.</i> Shooting. Boúlka. Slow promotion. <i>The Raid.</i> -The Censor. Danger. Applies for discharge. Applies to -Gortchakóf. <i>Memoirs of a Billiard Marker.</i> Receives his -commission. His retrospect.</p> - - -<h3>1851</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> brothers Nicholas and Leo left Yásnaya Polyána on -20th April 1851, and spent a couple of weeks in Moscow. -The frankness of Leo's intercourse with his Aunt -Tatiána is illustrated by the following letter which -he wrote, telling her of a visit he paid to Sokólniki, a -pleasant outskirt of Moscow on the borders of a pine -forest, where a fęte is held on May-day.</p> - -<p>That he wrote in French is explained by the fact that -Tatiána, like many Russian ladies educated early in the -nineteenth century, knew French better than she did -Russian.</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>J'ai été ŕ la promenade de Sokólniki par un temps détestable, -c'est pourquoi je n'ai rencontré personne des dames de la -société, que j'avais envie de voir. Comme vous prétendez que -je suis un homme ŕ épreuves, je suis allé parmi les plébs, dans -les tentes bohémiennes. Vous pouvez aisément vous figurer le<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -combat intérieur qui s'engagea lŕ-bas pour et contre. Au reste -j'en sortis victorieux, c.ŕ d. n'ayant rien donné que ma bénédiction -aux joyeux descendants des illustres Pharaons. Nicolas -trouve que je suis un compagnon de voyage trčs agréable, si ce -n'était ma propreté. Il se fâche de ce que, comme il le dit, je -change de linge 12 fois par jour. Moi je le trouve aussi compagnon -trčs agréable, si ce n'était sa saleté. Je ne sais lequel -de nous a raison.</p> - -<p>On leaving Moscow, instead of travelling to the Caucasus -by the usual route <i>viâ</i> Vorónesh, Nicholas Tolstoy, who -liked to do things his own way, decided that they would -drive first to Kazán. Here they stayed a week, visiting acquaintances, -and that was long enough for Leo to fall in -love with a young lady to whom his shyness prevented his -expressing his sentiments. He left for the Caucasus bearing -his secret with him, and we hear no more of the matter.</p> - -<p>From Kazán they drove to Sarátof, where they hired -a boat large enough to take their travelling carriage on -board, and with a crew of three men, made their way down -the Vólga to Astrakhán, sometimes rowing, sometimes -sailing, and sometimes drifting with the stream.</p> - -<p>The scorn of luxury and social distinctions so prominent -in Tolstoy's later philosophy, was at this period more to -the taste of his brother Nicholas. A gentleman drove -past them in Kazán leaning on his walking-stick with -ungloved hands, and that was sufficient to cause Leo to -speak of him contemptuously, whereupon Nicholas, in his -usual tone of good-natured irony, wanted to know why a -man should be despised for not wearing gloves.</p> - -<p>From Astrakhán they had still to drive some two hun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>dred -and seventy miles to reach Starogládovsk, where -Nicholas Tolstoy's battery was stationed. The whole -journey from Moscow, including the stay in Kazán, took -nearly a month.</p> - -<p>It may be convenient here to explain why the Russians -were then fighting in the Caucasus. Georgia, situated to -the south of the Caucasian Mountains, had been voluntarily -annexed to Russia in 1799 to escape the oppression of -Persia; and it therefore became politically desirable for -Russia to subdue the tribes that separated her from her -newly acquired dependency. During the first half of the -nineteenth century this task proceeded very slowly, but at -the time we are speaking of, Prince Baryatínsky, in command -of the Russian forces stationed on the left bank of -the river Térek, which flows into the Caspian Sea, was -undertaking a series of expeditions against the hostile -native tribes. Up to that time the Russians had held hardly -anything south of the Térek and north of the Caucasian -Mountains, except their own forts and encampments; but -in less than another decade, Baryatínsky had captured -Shámyl (the famous leader who so long defied Russia) -and had subdued the whole country.</p> - -<p>Soon after the brothers Tolstoy arrived at Starogládovsk, -Nicholas was ordered to the fortified camp at Goryatchevódsk -('Hot Springs'), an advanced post recently established -to protect the invalids who availed themselves of -those mineral waters.</p> - -<p>Here Leo Tolstoy first saw, and was deeply impressed by, -the beauty of the magnificent mountain range which he -has so well described in <i>The Cossacks</i>. In July 1851 he -wrote to his Aunt Tatiána:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>Nicolas est parti dans une semaine aprčs son arrivée, et moi -je l'y suivis, de sorte que nous sommes presque depuis trois<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -semaines ici oů nous logeons dans une tente. Mais comme le -temps est beau et que je me fais un peu ŕ ce genre de vie, je -me trouve trčs bien. Ici il y a des coups d'œil magnifiques, ŕ -commencer par l'endroit oů sont les sources. C'est une énorme -montagne de pierres l'une sur l'autre, dont les unes se sont détachées -et forment des espčces de grottes, les autres restent -suspendues ŕ une grande hauteur. Elles sont toutes coupées -par les courants d'eau chaude, qui tombent avec bruit dans -quelques endroits et couvrent surtout le matin toute la partie -élevée de la montagne d'une vapeur blanche qui se détache -continuellement de cette eau bouillante. L'eau est tellement -chaude qu'on cuit dedans les œufs <i>hard</i> en trois minutes. Au -milieu de ce ravin sur le torrent principal il y a trois moulins, -l'un au-dessus de l'autre, qui sont construits d'une maničre -toute particuličre et trčs pittoresque. Toute la journée les -femmes tartares ne cessent de venir au-dessus et au-dessous de -ces moulins pour laver leur linge. II faut vous dire qu'elles -lavent avec les pieds. C'est comme une fourmiličre toujours -remuante. Les femmes sont pour la plupart belles et bien -faites. Les costumes des femmes orientales malgré leur pauvreté, -sont gracieux. Les groupes pittoresques que forment les -femmes, joint ŕ la beauté sauvage de l'endroit fait un coup<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -d'œil véritablement admirable. Je reste trčs souvent des heures -ŕ admirer ce paysage. Puis le coup d'œil du haut de la montagne -est encore plus beau et tout ŕ fait dans un autre genre. -Mais je crains de vous ennuyer avec mes descriptions.</p> - -<p class="i2">Je suis trčs content d'ętre aux eaux puisque j'en profite. Je -prends des bains ferrugineux et je ne sens plus de douleur aux -pieds.</p> - -<p>As showing how hot these springs were, it may be -mentioned that a dog belonging to Nicholas tumbled into -the water and was scalded to death.</p> - -<p>The officers Tolstoy met, he found to be men without -education, and he wrote: 'At first many things in this -society shocked me, but I have accustomed myself to them, -without however attaching myself to these gentlemen. I -have found a happy mean, in which there is neither pride -nor familiarity.' He was helped by the fact that Nicholas -was popular with every one; and, by adopting the plan of -having vódka, wine, and something to eat always ready for -those who dropped in to see him, he succeeded in keeping -on good terms with these men, though he did not care -to know them intimately.</p> - -<p>The following extract from his Diary preserves the -record of the rapidly changing moods he experienced in -those days. Soon after reaching the Caucasus he noted:</p> - -<p class="p2 right i2"><span class="smcap">Stary Urt</span>, <i>11th June 1851</i>.</p> - -<p class="i2">Yesterday I hardly slept all night. Having posted up my -Diary, I prayed to God. It is impossible to convey the sweetness -of the feeling I experienced during my prayer. I said -the prayers I usually repeat by heart: 'Our Father,' 'To the -Virgin,' etc., and still remained in prayer. If one defines -prayer as a petition or as thanksgiving, then I did not pray. -I desired something supreme and good; but what, I cannot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -express, though I was clearly conscious of what I wanted. I -wished to merge into the Universal Being. I asked Him to -pardon my crimes; yet no, I did not ask that, for I felt that -if He had given me this blissful moment, He had pardoned -me. I asked, and at the same time felt that I had nothing to -ask, and that I cannot and do not know how to ask; I thanked -Him, but not with words or thoughts. I combined in one -feeling both petition and gratitude. Fear quite vanished. I -could not have separated any one emotion—faith, hope or love—from -the general feeling. No, this was what I experienced -yesterday: it was love of God, lofty love, uniting in itself all -that is good, excluding all that is bad. How dreadful it was -to me to see the trivial and vicious side of life! I could not -understand its having any attraction for me. How I asked God -with a pure heart to accept me into His bosom! I did not feel -the flesh.... But no, the carnal, trivial side again asserted itself, -and before an hour had passed I almost consciously heard the -voice of vice, vanity, and the empty side of life; I knew whence -that voice came, knew it had ruined my bliss! I struggled -against it, and yet yielded to it. I fell asleep thinking of fame -and of women; but it was not my fault, I could not help it.</p> - -<p>Again, on 2nd July, after writing down reflections on -suffering and death, he concludes:</p> - -<p class="i2">How strong I seem to myself to be against all that can -happen; how firm in the conviction that one must expect -nothing here but death; yet a moment later I am thinking -with pleasure of a saddle I have ordered, on which I shall ride -dressed in a Cossack cloak, and of how I shall carry on with -the Cossack girls; and I fall into despair because my left -moustache is higher than my right, and for two hours I -straighten it out before the looking-glass.</p> - -<p>By August he was back again at Starogládovsk, and, -full of energy, risked his life as a volunteer in expeditions -against the Circassians. Having met Ilyá Tolstoy, an -officer and a relation, he was introduced by him to the -Commander-in-Chief, General Baryatínsky. The latter -had noticed Leo Tolstoy during one of the expeditions, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -and on making his acquaintance complimented him on his -bravery and advised him to enter the army. Ilyá Tolstoy -urged the same advice, and Leo accepted it. Towards the -end of October he went a tiresome but beautiful seven-days' -journey to Tiflis, where he had to pass the examination -qualifying him to become a Junker (Cadet). From -there he wrote to his Aunt Tatiána a letter containing the -first intimation of the vocation that was ultimately to -make him far more famous than Baryatínsky himself:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>Vous rappelez-vous, bonne tante, un conseil que vous -m'avez donné jadis—celui de faire des romans? Eh bien! je -suis votre conseil et les occupations dont je vous parle consistent -ŕ faire de la littérature. Je ne sais si ce que j'écris -paraîtra jamais dans le monde, mais c'est un travail qui -m'amuse et dans lequel je persévčre depuis trop longtemps -pour l'abandonner.</p> - -<p>For two months he lived in the 'German' suburb of -Tiflis, paying Rs. 5 a month (at that time equal to about -16s.) for his two-roomed lodging; disturbed by no one, -writing <i>Childhood</i>, and trying to enter the army—the -main obstacle to which was that, as usual, he found himself -without his birth-certificate and other documents. He -seldom enjoyed good health for many consecutive months, -and during his stay in Tiflis he was confined to the house -for some weeks by illness. At last, on 23rd December -1851, he was able to write to his brother, Sergius, announcing -that in a few days he expected to receive his -appointment as Junker in the 4th battery of artillery, -and that on the day he received it he would set out for -Starogládovsk, and from there go on campaign, and to -the best of his ability 'assist, with the aid of a cannon,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -in destroying the predatory and turbulent Asiatics.' He -goes on to tell of hunting. He had been out nine times, -and had killed two foxes and about sixty grey hares. He -had also hunted wild boar and deer, but had not killed any.</p> - -<p>In the same letter Tolstoy mentions Hádji Mourát, the -hero of a tale he wrote more than fifty years later, and that -has been put aside for posthumous publication. He says: -'If you wish to show off with news from the Caucasus, you -may recount that a certain Hádji Mourát (the second in -importance to Shámyl himself) surrendered a few days ago -to the Russian Government. He was the leading dare-devil -and "brave" in all Circassia, but was led to commit a -mean action.'</p> - - -<h3>1852</h3> - -<p>A little later, on 6th January 1852, we find -him again in Tiflis, writing to Aunt Tatiána.</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>Je viens de recevoir votre lettre du 24 Novembre et je -vous y réponds le moment męme (comme j'en ai pris l'habitude). -Derničrement je vous écrivais que votre lettre m'a -fait pleurer et j'accusai ma maladie de cette faiblesse. J'ai eu -tort. Toutes vos lettres me font depuis quelque temps le -męme effet. J'ai toujours été <i>Lyóva-ryóva</i> [Leo, Cry-baby]. -Avant cette faiblesse me faisait honte, mais les larmes que je -verse en pensant ŕ vous et ŕ votre amour pour nous, sont -tellement douces que je les laisse couler, sans aucune fausse-honte. -Votre lettre est trop pleine de tristesse pour qu'elle ne -produise pas sur moi le męme effet. C'est vous qui toujours -m'avez donné des conseils et quoique malheureusement je ne<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -les aie pas suivis quelquefois, je voudrais toute ma vie n'agir -que d'aprčs vos avis. Permettez-moi pour le moment de vous -dire l'effet qu'a produit sur moi votre lettre et les idées qui me -sont venues en la lisant. Si je vous parle trop franchement je -sais que vous me le pardonnerez en faveur de l'amour que j'ai -pour vous. En disant que c'est votre tour de nous quitter -pour aller rejoindre ceux qui ne sont plus et que vous avez tant -aimés, en disant que vous demandez ŕ Dieu de mettre un terme -ŕ votre existence qui vous semble si insupportable et isolée,—pardon, -chčre tante, mais il me paraît qu'en disant cela vous -offensez Dieu et moi et nous tous qui vous aimons tant. Vous -demandez ŕ Dieu la mort, c. ŕ dire le plus grand malheur qui -puisse m'arriver (ce n'est pas une phrase, mais Dieu m'est -témoin que les deux plus grands malheurs qui puissent m'arriver -ce serait votre mort ou celle de Nicolas—les deux personnes -que j'aime plus que moi-męme). Que resterait-il pour moi si -Dieu exauçait votre pričre? Pour faire plaisir ŕ qui, voudrais-je -devenir meilleur, avoir de bonnes qualités, avoir une bonne -réputation dans le monde? Quand je fais des plans de bonheur -pour moi, l'idée que vous partagerez et jouirez de mon bonheur -m'est toujours présente. Quand je fais quelque chose de bon,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -je suis content de moi-męme, parce que je sais que vous serez -contente de moi. Quand j'agis mal, ce que je crains le plus—c'est -de vous faire du chagrin. Votre amour est tout pour moi, -et vous demandez ŕ Dieu qu'il nous sépare! Je ne puis vous -dire le sentiment que j'ai pour vous, la parole ne suffit pas pour -vous l'exprimer et je crains que vous ne pensiez que j'exagčre -et cependant je pleure ŕ chaudes larmes en vous écrivant.</p> - -<p>In the same letter he tells of one of those remarkable -'answers to prayer,' instances of thought-transference, or -(if the reader pleases) simply coincidences, which have -played so great a part in the history of all religious bodies.</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>Aujourd'hui il m'est arrivé une de ces choses qui m'auraient -fait croire en Dieu, si je n'y croyais déjŕ fermement depuis -quelque temps.</p> - -<p class="i2">L'été ŕ Stáry Urt tous les officiers qui y étaient ne faisaient -que jouer et assez gros jeu. Comme en vivant au camp il est -impossible de ne pas se voir souvent, j'ai trčs souvent assisté au -jeu et malgré les instances qu'on me faisait j'ai tenu bon -pendant un mois; mais un beau jour en plaisantant, j'ai mis un -petit enjeu, j'ai perdu, j'ai recommencé, j'ai encore perdu, la -chance en était mauvaise, la passion du jeu s'est reveillée et en -deux jours j'ai perdu tout ce que j'avais d'argent et celui que -Nicolas m'a donné (ŕ peu prčs 250 r. argent) et par dessus cela<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -encore 500 r. argent pour lequel j'ai donné une lettre de change -payable au mois de Janvier 1852.</p> - -<p class="i2">Il faut vous dire que prčs du camp il y a un <i>Aoul</i> qu'habitent -les Tchitchéniens. Un jeune garçon (Tchitchénien) Sado -venait au camp et jouait, mais comme il ne savait pas compter -et inscrire il y avait des chenapans qui le trichaient. Je n'ai -jamais voulu jouer pour cette raison contre Sado, et męme je -lui ai dit qu'il ne fallait pas qu'il jouât, parce qu'on le trompait -et je me suis proposé de jouer pour lui par procuration. Il m'a -été trčs reconnaissant pour ceci et m'a fait cadeau d'une bourse. -Comme c'est l'usage de cette nation de se faire des cadeaux -mutuels, je lui ai donné un misérable fusil que j'avais acheté -pour 8 rb. Il faut vous dire que pour devenir <i>Kounák</i>, ce qui -veut dire ami, il est d'usage de se faire des cadeaux, et puis de -manger dans la maison du <i>Kounák</i>. Aprčs cela, d'aprčs l'ancien -usage de ces peuples (qui n'existe presque plus que par tradition) -on devient ami ŕ la vie et ŕ la mort, c.ŕ d. que si je lui -demande tout son argent, ou sa femme, ou ses armes, ou tout -ce qu'il a de plus précieux, il doit me les donner, et moi aussi -je ne dois rien lui refuser. Sado m'a engagé de venir chez lui<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -et d'ętre <i>Kounák</i>. J'y suis allé. Aprčs m'avoir régalé ŕ leur -maničre, il m'a proposé de choisir dans sa maison tout ce que je -voudrais—ses armes, son cheval ... tout. J'ai voulu choisir -ce qu'il y avait de moins cher et j'ai pris une bride de cheval -montée en argent, mais il m'a dit que je l'offensais et m'a -obligé de prendre une <i>sword</i> qui vaut au moins 100 r. arg.</p> - -<p class="i2">Son pčre est un homme assez riche, mais qui a son argent -enterré et ne donne pas le sou ŕ son fils. Le fils pour avoir de -l'argent va voler chez l'ennemi des chevaux, des vaches; quelquefois -il expose 20 fois sa vie pour voler une chose qui ne vaut -pas 10 r., mais ce n'est pas par cupidité qu'il le fait, mais par -genre. Le plus grand voleur est trčs estimé et on l'appelle -'<i>Dzhigit</i>,' un <i>Brave</i>. Tantôt Sado a 1000 r. arg., tantôt pas le -sou. Aprčs une visite chez lui, je lui ai fait cadeau de la -montre d'argent de Nicolas et nous sommes devenus les plus -grands amis du monde. Plusieurs fois il m'a prouvé son -dévouement en s'exposant ŕ des dangers pour moi, mais -ceci pour lui n'est rien—c'est devenu une habitude et un -plaisir.</p> - -<p class="i2">Quand je suis parti de Stáry Urt et que Nicolas y est resté, -Sado venait chez lui tous les jours et disait qu'il ne savait que<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -devenir sans moi et qu'il s'ennuyait terriblement. Par une -lettre je faisais connaître ŕ Nicolas, que mon cheval étant -malade, je le priais de m'en trouver un ŕ Stáry Urt; Sado -ayant appris cela n'eut rien de plus pressé que de venir chez -moi et de me donner son cheval, malgré tout ce que j'ai pu -faire pour refuser.</p> - -<p class="i2">Aprčs la bętise que j'ai fait de jouer ŕ Stáry Urt, je n'ai plus -repris les cartes en mains, et je faisais continuellement la -morale ŕ Sado qui a la passion du jeu et quoiqu'il ne connaisse -pas le jeu, a toujours un bonheur étonnant. Hier soir je me suis -occupé ŕ penser ŕ mes affaires pécuniaires, ŕ mes dettes; je -pensais comment je ferais pour les payer. Ayant longtemps -pensé ŕ ces choses, j'ai vu que si je ne dépense pas trop d'argent, -toutes mes dettes ne m'embarrasseront pas et pourront petit ŕ -petit ętre payées dans 2 ou 3 ans; mais les 500 rbs., que je -devais payer ce mois, me mettaient au désespoir. Il m'était -impossible de les payer et pour le moment ils m'embarrassaient -beaucoup plus que ne l'avaient fait autrefois les 4000 d'Ogaryéff. -Cette bętise d'avoir fait les dettes que j'avais en Russie et de -venir en faire de nouvelles ici me mettait au désespoir. Le -soir en faisant ma pričre, j'ai prié Dieu qu'il me tire de cette -désagréable position et avec beaucoup de ferveur. 'Mais com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>ment -est-ce que je puis me tirer de cette affaire?' pensai-je en -me couchant. 'Il ne peut rien arriver qui me donne la possibilité -d'acquitter cette dette.' Je me représentais déjŕ tous -les désagréments que j'avais ŕ essuyer ŕ cause de cela: how -when he presents the note for collection, the authorities will -demand an explanation as to why I did not pay, etc. 'Lord, -help me!' said I, and fell asleep.</p> - -<p class="i2">Le lendemain je reçois une lettre de Nicolas ŕ laquelle était -jointe la votre et plusieurs autres—il m'écrit:</p> - -<p class="i2">The other day Sádo came to see me. He has won your notes-of-hand -from Knorring, and has brought them to me. He was -so pleased to have won them, and asked me so often, 'What do -you think? Will your brother be glad that I have done this?' -that I have grown very fond of him. That man is really -attached to you.</p> - -<p class="i2">N'est-ce pas étonnant que de voir ses vœux aussi exaucés -le lendemain męme? C. ŕ d., qu'il n'y a rien d'aussi étonnant -que la bonté divine pour un ętre qui la mérite si peu que moi. -Et n'est-ce pas que le trait de dévouement de Sado est admirable? -Il sait que j'ai un frčre Serge, qui aime les chevaux et -comme je lui ai promis de le prendre en Russie quand j'y irai, il -m'a dit, que dűt-il lui en coűter 100 fois la vie, il volera le -meilleur cheval qu'il y ait dans les montagnes, et qu'il le lui -amčnera.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -Faites, je vous prie, acheter ŕ Toúla un <i>6-barrelled pistol</i> et -un <i>musical-box</i>, si cela ne coűte pas trop cher. Ce sont des -choses qui lui feront beaucoup de plaisir.</p> - -<p>In explanation of this letter one has to mention that -Sádo was a 'peaceful' Circassian, that is, one friendly -to Russia (though his tribe in general were hostile), and -further, that the passages printed in English in the midst -of the French text, are in the original written in Russian.</p> - -<p>A few days later we find Tolstoy on his way back to -Starogládovsk, stopping (probably for post-horses) at the -post-station Mozdók, and again writing his aunt a long -letter in which he says:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>La religion et l'expérience que j'ai de la vie (quelque -petite qu'elle soit) m'ont appris que la vie est une épreuve. -Dans moi elle est plus qu'une épreuve, c'est encore l'expiation -de mes fautes.</p> - -<p class="i2">J'ai dans l'idée que l'idée si frivole que j'ai eu d'aller faire un -voyage au Caucase—est une idée qui m'a été inspirée d'en haut. -C'est la main de Dieu qui m'a guidé—je ne cesse de l'en remercier. -Je sens que je suis devenu meilleur ici (et ce n'est -pas beaucoup dire puisque j'ai été trčs mauvais) et je suis -fermement persuadé que tout ce qui peut m'arriver ici ne sera -que pour mon bien, puisque c'est Dieu lui-męme qui l'a voulu -ainsi. Peut-ętre c'est une idée bien hardie, néanmoins j'ai<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -cette conviction. C'est pour cela que je supporte les fatigues -et les privations physiques dont je parle (ce ne sont pas des -privations physiques—il n'y en a pas pour un garçon de 23 -ans qui se porte bien) sans les ressentir, męme avec une espčce -de plaisir en pensant au bonheur qui m'attend.</p> - -<p class="i2">Voilŕ comment je le représente:</p> - -<p class="i2">Aprčs un nombre indéterminé d'années, ni jeune, ni vieux, -je suis ŕ Yásnaya; mes affaires sont en ordre, je n'ai pas d'inquiétudes, -ni de tracasseries. Vous habitez Yásnaya aussi. -Vous avez un peu vieillie, mais ętes encore fraîche et bien portante. -Nous menons la vie que nous avons menée,—je travaille -le matin, mais nous nous voyons presque toute la journée. -Nous dînons. Le soir je fais une lecture qui ne vous ennuie -pas, puis nous causons—moi je vous raconte ma vie au Caucase, -vous me parlez de vos souvenirs—de mon pčre, de ma mčre, -vous me contez des '<i>terrible tales</i>' que jadis nous écoutions les -yeux effrayés et la bouche béante. Nous nous rappelons les -personnes qui nous ont été chčres et qui ne sont plus; vous -pleurerez, j'en ferai de męme, mais ces larmes seront douces; -nous causerons des frčres qui viendront nous voir de temps en -temps, de la chčre Marie qui passera aussi quelques mois<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -de l'année a Yásnaya qu'elle aime tant, avec tous ses enfants. -Nous n'aurons point de connaissances—personne ne viendra -nous ennuyer et faire des commérages. C'est un beau ręve, -mais ce n'est pas encore tout ce que je me permets de ręver.—Je -suis marié—ma femme est une personne douce, bonne, -aimante; elle a pour vous le męme amour que moi; nous avons -des enfants qui vous appellent grandmaman; vous habitez la -grande maison en haut, la męme chambre que jadis habitait -grandmaman. Toute la maison est dans le męme ordre qu'elle -a été du temps de papa et nous recommençons la męme vie, -seulement en changéant de rôle; vous prenez le rôle de grandmaman, -mais vous ętes encore meilleure; moi le rôle de papa, -mais je désespčre de jamais le mériter; ma femme celui de -maman, les enfants le nôtre; Marie le rôle des deux tantes, -leurs malheurs exceptés.... Mais il manquera un personnage -pour prendre le rôle que vous avez joué dans notre famille; -jamais il ne se trouvera une âme aussi belle, aussi aimante que la -vôtre. Vous n'avez pas de successeur. Il y aura trois nouveaux -personnages, qui paraîtront de temps en temps sur la scčne—les -frčres, surtout l'un qui sera souvent avec nous: Nicolas—vieux -garçon, chauve, retiré du service, toujours aussi bon, aussi -noble.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -I imagine how he will, as of old, tell the children fairy tales -of his own invention, and how they will kiss his greasy hands -(but which are worthy of it), how he will play with them, how -my wife will bustle about to get him his favourite dishes, how -he and I will recall our common memories of days long past, -how you will sit in your accustomed place and listen to us with -pleasure; how, as of yore, you will call us, old men, 'Lyóvotchka' -and 'Nikólenka,' and will scold me for eating with -my fingers, and him for not having clean hands.</p> - -<p class="i2">Si on me faisait empereur de Russie, si on me donnait le -Pérou, en un mot si une fée venait avec sa baguette me -demander ce que je désire—la main sur la conscience, je répondrais -que je désire seulement que ce ręve puisse devenir une -réalité.</p> - -<p>He returned to Starogládovsk a Junker, and in February -took part in an expedition as a non-commissioned artillery -officer, and nearly received a St. George's Cross for bravery, -but lost it because, once again, he had not his documents -in order.</p> - -<p>Writing to his Aunt Tatiána some months later (June -1852), he says:</p> - - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a>Pendant cette expédition, j'ai eu l'occasion d'ętre deux -fois présenté ŕ la croix de St. Georges et je n'ai pas pu la -recevoir ŕ cause du retard de quelques jours de ce maudit -papier. J'ai été présenté pour la journée du 18 Février (ma -fęte), mais on a été obligé de refuser ŕ cause du manque de ce<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -papier. La liste des présentations partit le 19, le 20 le papier -était arrivé. Je vous avoue franchement que de tous les honneurs -militaires c'est cette seule petite croix que j'ai eu la -vanité d'ambitionner.</p> - -<p>On a second occasion he had the refusal of the coveted -cross, but his Colonel pointed out to him that besides -being sometimes given to Junkers favoured by their officers, -these crosses were also, and more usually, granted to old -and deserving privates, whom they entitled to a life pension; -and that if Tolstoy would forego the one intended -for him, it would be given to a veteran who deserved it, -and to whom it would secure a subsistence for his old age. -Tolstoy, to his honour be it said, renounced the coveted -decoration. He had a third chance of securing it later on, -but this time, absorbed in playing chess till late at night, -he omitted to go on duty, and the Commander of the -Division noticing his absence, placed him under arrest -and cancelled the award which had been already made -in his favour. Chess, I may here mention, has always -been a favourite game of Tolstoy's. He has never -studied the game from books, but has played much and -plays ingeniously and well.</p> - -<p>The kind of warfare in which he was now engaged, is -well described in <i>The Raid</i> and <i>The Wood-Felling</i>. A -detachment would set out to seize a Tartar village, make -a clearing in a forest, or capture cattle. It would exchange -cannon- and rifle-shots with Tartar skirmishers, and -would lose perhaps half a dozen men killed or wounded -before accomplishing its object; but the more serious part -of the work came when the expedition returned to the -fortified camp from which it had started. As soon as -the retreat commenced, Tartar sharpshooters would swarm -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -out, trying to cut off stragglers and inflicting as much -damage as possible. Even after the Russians were beyond -rifle-shot, a chance ball from a Tartar cannon might reach -them within sight of their own quarters.</p> - -<p>To see a single man one has known well, struck down -by a deadly bullet, may impress an observer as vividly -as the myriad corpses of a great battlefield; and in -Tolstoy's earliest war-sketches one feels the note of horror -at war quite as strongly as when, later on, he described -far bloodier struggles at Sevastopol.</p> - -<p>When not on campaign, Tolstoy was generally stationed -at the Cossack village of Starogládovsk, where he lived -more or less the life vividly described in <i>The Cossacks</i>. -The Grebénsky Cossacks located there were descended from -Russian Dissenters (Old-Believers) who had fled from the -persecution of former Tsars and had settled among the -Mohammedan Circassians near the river Térek. They -had retained the purity of their Russian speech, and remained -nominally Christians, but had intermarried with -the natives and adopted many of their manners and -customs. Love of freedom, idleness, robbery, hunting, -and war were their most prominent characteristics. They -considered themselves altogether superior both to the semi-savage -Mohammedan natives and to the tame, disciplined -Russians. Drunkenness was not so much a weakness of -these men as 'a tribal rite, to abandon which would have -been considered as an act of apostasy.' The work was -done by the women, or by hired Nogai-Tartar labourers. -The women were physically better developed than the men, -and were celebrated for their beauty, combining the purest -type of Circassian features with the powerful build of -Northern women. In their relations with men, especially -before marriage, they enjoyed absolute freedom.</p> - -<p>There was much that attracted Tolstoy in the simple -life of these people: their frankness, their skill in hunting, -their contempt for all that is artificial or weak, and their -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -freedom from the moral struggles that tormented him. -With one beautiful girl—Mariána—he fell deeply in love, -but she remained indifferent to the attentions of a man who -was inferior in the arts of war and hunting to some of the -young men of her own tribe. His courtship failed (as he -says of his hero in <i>The Cossacks</i>) because he could not, -like a dashing young Cossack, 'steal herds, get drunk on -Tchikir wine, troll songs, kill people, and when tipsy climb -in at her window for a night, without thinking who he was -or why he existed.'</p> - -<p>Though one has always to be carefully on one's guard -against taking Tolstoy's stories as though they were autobiographical, -there are passages in <i>The Cossacks</i> which -certainly apply to himself, and give a vivid idea of some -of his moods at this time, as well as of his way of life -while living as a Junker at Starogládovsk.</p> - -<p>On one occasion the hero is out hunting in the woods -and asks himself:</p> - -<p class="i2">'How must I live so as to be happy, and why was I formerly -not happy?' And he remembered his previous life, and felt -disgusted with himself.... And suddenly a new light seemed -revealed to him. 'Happiness,' said he to himself, 'consists in -living for others. That is clear. The demand for happiness is -innate in man; therefore it is legitimate. If we seek to satisfy -it selfishly: by seeking wealth, fame, comforts, or love, circumstances -may render the satisfaction of these desires impossible. -It follows that they are illegitimate, but not that the demand -for happiness itself is illegitimate. But what desire is there -that can always be satisfied in spite of external conditions? -What desire? Love, self-sacrifice!' He was so glad and -excited at discovering this, as it seemed to him, new truth, -that he jumped up and began impatiently seeking for some one -for whom he might quickly sacrifice himself: to whom he -might do good, and whom he could love. 'Yes; I need -nothing for myself!' he kept mentally repeating: 'Then why -not live for others?'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -In the same story Tolstoy tells us that his hero lived -monotonously and regularly.</p> - -<p class="i2">He had little to do with his Commander or fellow-officers. -In the Caucasus the position of a Junker with means of his -own was in this respect particularly favourable. He was not -sent to drill nor kept at work. As a reward for going on an -expedition he was recommended for a commission, and meanwhile -he was left alone. The officers considered him an -aristocrat, and therefore in their intercourse with him bore -themselves with dignity. Card-playing and the officers' -carousals with singers, of which he had had experience when -on service with the detachment, seemed to him unattractive, -and he avoided the officers' society.</p> - -<p>Again he tells us that his hero</p> - -<p class="i2">often thought seriously of abandoning all else, enrolling himself -as a Cossack, buying a cottage, and marrying a Cossack -girl ... and living with Uncle Eróshka, going with him to -hunt and to fish, and with the Cossacks on expeditions. 'Why -don't I do this? What am I waiting for?' he asked himself.... -But a voice told him to wait, and not to decide. He -was restrained by a dim consciousness that he could not fully -live the life of Eróshka and Loukáshka, because he had another -happiness,—he was restrained by the thought that happiness -lies in self-sacrifice.... He continually sought an opportunity -to sacrifice himself for others, but it did not present itself.</p> - -<p>In the same story the Cossack Loukáshka kills a Tartar -'brave' at night, and rises greatly in the popular esteem -and in his own; and the hero thinks to himself:</p> - -<p class="i2">'What nonsense and confusion! A man kills another and -is as happy and satisfied as though he had done an excellent -deed. Does nothing tell him there is here no cause for great -rejoicing? That happiness consists not in killing others, but -in sacrificing oneself?'</p> - -<p>We have a yet safer record of Tolstoy's feelings in his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -Diary, in which about this time he noted down the following -reflections concerning the chief faults he was conscious -of in himself:</p> - -<p class="i2">1. The passion of gaming is a covetous passion, gradually -developing into a craving for strong excitement. Against this -passion one can struggle.</p> - -<p class="i2">2. Sensuality is a physical need, a demand of the body, -excited by imagination. It increases with abstinence, and -therefore the struggle against it is very difficult. The best way -is by labour and occupation.</p> - -<p class="i2">3. Vanity is the passion least harmful to others and most -harmful to oneself.</p> - -<p>In another passage, indicating quite a different phase of -consciousness, he writes:</p> - -<p class="i2">For some time past repentance for the loss of the best years -of life has begun to torment me, and this since I commenced -to feel that I could do something good.... There is something -in me which compels me to believe that I was not born -to be like everybody else.</p> - -<p>In May we find him going on furlough to Pyatigórsk -to drink the mineral water and to be treated for rheumatism. -This is his description of Pyatigórsk, written -nearly twenty years later in his Reading Book for Children:</p> - -<p class="i2">Pyatigórsk (Five Hills) is so called because it stands on -Mount Besh-tau. <i>Besh</i> means in Tartar 'five,' <i>Tau</i> means -'hill.' From this mountain flows a hot sulphur stream. The -water is boiling, and over the places where it springs from the -mountain there is always steam, as from a samovár.</p> - -<p class="i2">The whole place where the town stands is very gay. From -the mountain flow hot springs, and at the foot of the mountain -flows the river Podkoúmok. The mountain slopes are wooded, -all around are fields, and afar off one sees the great Caucasian -mountains. On these the snow never melts, and they are -always as white as sugar. When the weather is clear, wherever -one goes one sees the great mountain, Elbrus, like a sugar -cone. People come to the hot springs for their health; and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -over the springs, arbours and awnings have been erected, and -gardens and paths have been laid out all around. In the -morning a band plays, and people drink the waters, or bathe, -or stroll about.</p> - -<p>Here he was joined by his sister Mary and her husband. -She also came to Pyatigórsk to be cured of rheumatism. -She tells how her brother Leo was at this time attracted -by Spiritualism, and would sometimes even borrow a table -from a <i>café</i> and have a <i>séance</i> on the boulevard. He -remained in Pyatigórsk till 5th August, and then returned -to Starogládovsk. From thence he wrote to his aunt, -repeating what he had said before of the officers with whom -he had to associate.</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a>Il y a une trop grande différence dans l'éducation, les -sentiments et la maničre de voir de ceux que je rencontre ici -pour que je trouve quelque plaisir avec eux. Il n'y a que -Nicolas qui a le talent, malgré l'énorme différence qu'il y a -entre lui et tous ces messieurs, ŕ s'amuser avec eux et ŕ ętre -aimé de tous. Je lui envie ce talent, mais je sens que je ne -puis en faire autant.</p> - -<p>He mentions that for some time past he has acquired a -taste for reading history, and says that he perseveres in his -literary occupations. He had already three times rewritten -a work he had in hand, and intended to rewrite it again. -He felt much more content with himself at this time, and -adds:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>Il y a eu un temps oů j'étais vain de mon esprit et de ma -position dans le monde, de mon nom; mais ŕ présent je sais et<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -je sens que s'il y a en moi quelque chose de bon et que si j'ai ŕ -en rendre grâce ŕ la Providence, c'est pour un cœur bon, -sensible et capable d'amour, qu'il lui a plu de me donner et de -me conserver.</p> - -<p>On 29th June he again notes in his Diary:</p> - -<p class="i2">He whose aim is his own happiness, is bad; he whose aim is -the good opinion of others, is weak; he whose aim is the happiness -of others, is virtuous; he whose aim is God, is great.</p> - - -<h3>1852</h3> - -<p>On 2nd July he completed <i>Childhood</i>, and a few days later -despatched the manuscript, signed only with the initials -L. N. T., to the best Petersburg monthly, <i>The -Contemporary</i>. On 28th August he received a reply -from the editor, the poet Nekrásof, saying he would -publish the story and that he thought its author had -talent. Another letter followed, dated 5th September 1852, -in which Nekrásof said that having re-read the story in -proof, he found it 'much better than I had realised at first. -I can say definitely that its author has talent.' He added -that it would appear in the next number of his magazine.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy notes in his Diary: 'Received letter from Nekrásof; -praises, but no money.'</p> - -<p>Nekrásof's next letter is dated 30th October, and explains -that it is not customary to pay authors for their first work, -but that he hopes Tolstoy will send him more stories, and -that in future he will pay him as much as to the very best -known writers, namely Rs. 50 (nearly Ł7 at that time) per -sheet of sixteen pages. He mentioned also that <i>Childhood</i> -had been very well received by the public.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy kept his authorship a secret, revealing it to no -one except Nicholas and Aunt Tatiána. His sister Mary -was by this time back at her husband's estate, situated near -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -Tourgénef's village of Spássky. There Tourgénef came -one day to visit her, bringing with him the last number of -the <i>Contemporary</i>. Full of praise of a new story by an unknown -author, he began reading it aloud, and to her great -astonishment Mary recognised, one after another, various -incidents from her own childhood. Her first guess was that -Nicholas must have written it.</p> - -<p>Among the writers who at once acclaimed Tolstoy's -genius was Panáef, co-editor of the <i>Contemporary</i>, who, -Tourgénef pretended, had to be carefully shunned by his -friends on the Névsky (the chief street in Petersburg) lest he -should insist on reading them extracts from the new story. -Before long the work reached Dostoyévsky in Siberia, and -he was so struck by it that he wrote to a friend asking him -to find out who the talented L. N. T. was.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Tolstoy continued his military career in the -Caucasus. On his return to Starogládovsk in August, he -had noted in his Diary: 'Simplicity—that is the quality -which above all others I desire to attain.'</p> - -<p>He had to pass an unpleasant month in consequence of -the autumn manœuvres, about which he wrote: 'It was not -very pleasant to have to march about and fire off cannons; -especially as it disturbed the regularity of my life'; and -he rejoiced when it was over and he was again able to devote -himself to 'hunting, writing, reading, and conversation with -Nicholas.' He had become fond of shooting game, at which—as -at all physical exercises—he was expert; and he spent -two or three hours a day at it. He writes to his Aunt -Tatiána:</p> - -<p class="i2">At 100 paces from my lodging I find wild fowl, and in -half an hour I kill 2, 3, or 4. Besides the pleasure, the -exercise is excellent for my health, which in spite of the -waters is not very good. I am not ill, but I often catch cold -and suffer from sore throat or from toothache or from rheumatism, -so that I have to keep to my room at least two days -in the week.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -One of the forms of sport he enjoyed during his stay in -the Caucasus was strepet shooting: the strepet being a -steppe grouse. Before they migrate in mid-August, these -birds assemble in enormous flocks, and are extremely wild -and difficult of approach. It is hardly possible to get -within two hundred or two hundred and fifty yards of such -a flock. Tolstoy had a horse that was specially trained for -this particular sport. On it he used to ride at a foot-pace -two or three times round a flock, carefully narrowing the -circle till he got as near as possible without alarming the -birds. Then he would dash forward at full gallop with his -gun ready. The moment the birds rose he dropped his -reins on the horse's neck, and the well-trained animal would -instantly stop, allowing its master to take aim.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's military career was not giving him satisfaction. -Having left home without any definite plans, he had neglected -to bring any documents with him, and the result of this was -that instead of becoming an officer within eighteen months, -as he expected to do when he entered the army, he now, after -serving for ten months, received notice that he would have -to serve another three years before he could obtain his -commission.</p> - -<p>In this difficulty he applied to his aunt P. I. Úshkof, -who by application to an influential friend eventually succeeded -in hastening his promotion. Meanwhile however -Tolstoy—who had made up his mind to retire from the -army as soon as he received his commission—almost lost -patience.</p> - -<p>On 24th December he completed the sketch entitled -<i>The Raid: A Volunteer's Story</i>, and two days later posted -it to the <i>Contemporary</i>, in which magazine it appeared in -March 1853. The following passage occurs in this his -first story of war, and foreshadows the attitude he ultimately -made definitely his own. He is describing a march -through Caucasian scenery to a night attack on a Tartar -<i>Aoul</i>, and he says:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -Nature, beautiful and strong, breathed conciliation.</p> - -<p class="i2">Can it be that people have not room to live in this beautiful -world, under this measureless, starry heaven? Can feelings of -enmity, vengeance, or lust to destroy one's fellow beings, retain -their hold on man's soul amid this enchanting Nature? All -that is evil in man's heart should, one would think, vanish in -contact with Nature—this immediate expression of beauty and -goodness.</p> - -<p>From the very start we find Tolstoy hampered in his work -by that incubus of all Russian writers, the Censor. In -a letter to his brother Sergius in May he writes: '<i>Childhood</i> -was spoilt, and <i>The Raid</i> simply ruined by the Censor. -All that was good in it has been struck out or mutilated.' -In comparing Tolstoy's literary achievement with that of -Western writers, one should make a large allowance for the -continual annoyance, delay, mutilation, and suppression -inflicted on him by that terrible satellite of despotism.</p> - - -<h3>1853</h3> - -<p>In January, the battery in which Leo Tolstoy served -went on active service against Shámyl. The expedition -assembled at Fort Grózny, where scenes of -debauchery occurred.</p> - -<p>On 18th February Tolstoy's life was in great danger. -A shell fired by the enemy smashed the carriage of a -cannon he was pointing. Strange to say he was not even -wounded. On 1st April he returned with his detachment to -Starogládovsk; and in May we find him writing to his -brother Sergius that he had applied for his discharge, and -hoped in six weeks' time to return home a free man. Difficult -as his admission to the army had been, he found, -however, that to retire was a yet harder matter, destined -to take not weeks but years.</p> - -<p>On 13th June his life was again in danger owing to an -adventure which supplied him with the subject he utilised -later on in <i>A Prisoner in the Caucasus</i>.</p> - -<p>It being dangerous to travel between the Russian forts -without an escort, non-combatants, as well as stores and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -baggage, were periodically convoyed from one post to -another. On these expeditions it was forbidden for any one -to detach himself from the main body; but the intolerable -slowness of the infantry march on a hot day, frequently -tempted those who were mounted, to ride on, and to run the -risk of being attacked by the 'Tartars' (who were generally -Circassians). On one such occasion five horsemen, -including Tolstoy and his friend Sádo, disobeyed the regulations -and rode ahead. The two friends ascended the -hillside to see whether any foes were visible, while their -three companions proceeded along the valley below. Hardly -had the two reached the crest of the ridge when they saw -thirty mounted Tartars galloping towards them. Calculating -that there was not time to rejoin their companions in the -valley, Tolstoy shouted them a warning, and raced off along -the ridge towards Fort Grózny, which was their destination. -The three did not, at first, take his warning seriously, but -wasting some precious moments before turning to rejoin the -column, were overtaken by the Tartars, and two of them -were very severely wounded before a rescue party from the -convoy put the enemy to flight. Meanwhile Tolstoy and -Sádo, pursued by seven horsemen along the hill ridge, had -to ride nearly three miles to reach the fort. It so happened -that Tolstoy was trying a young horse of Sádo's, while Sádo -was riding Tolstoy's ambler, which could not gallop. Though -Tolstoy could easily have escaped on Sádo's fiery horse, he -would not desert his comrade. Sádo had a gun, unluckily -not loaded, and so he could only make a pretence with it of -aiming at his pursuers. It seemed almost certain that both -fugitives would be killed; but apparently the Tartars decided -to capture them alive, perhaps wishing to revenge -themselves on Sádo for being a pro-Russian, and therefore -they did not shoot them down. At last a sentinel at Grózny -having espied their plight, gave the alarm and some -Cossacks galloped to their rescue. At sight of these, the -Tartars made off and the fugitives escaped uninjured.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -Tolstoy continued his habit of forming resolutions; and -about this time he wrote: 'Be straightforward, not rough, -but frank with all men; yet not childishly frank without any -need.... Refrain from wine and women ... the pleasure -is so small and uncertain, and the remorse so great.... -Devote yourself completely to whatever you do. On experiencing -any strong sensation, wait; but having once -considered the matter, though wrongly, act decisively.'</p> - -<p>From the middle of July to October, Tolstoy again -stayed at Pyatigórsk.</p> - -<p>A companion he had brought with him to the Caucasus -was his black bulldog, Boúlka. He intended to leave it -at home, but after he had started, the dog had broken a -pane of glass and escaped from the room in which it was -confined, and when Tolstoy, after stopping at the first post-station, -was just resuming his journey, he saw something -black racing along the road after him. It was Boúlka, who -rushed to his master, licked his hand, and lay down panting -in the shade of a cart. The dog had galloped nearly -fourteen miles in the heat of the day, and was rewarded by -being taken to the Caucasus, where it was destined to meet -with many adventures.</p> - -<p>On one occasion this dog boldly attacked a wild boar, -and had its stomach ripped open by the latter's tusk. -While its wound was being sewn up, the dog licked its -master's hand.</p> - -<p>On another occasion, when Tolstoy was sitting at night -with a friend in the village street, intending to start for -Pyatigórsk at daybreak, they suddenly heard a sucking-pig -squeal, and guessed that a wolf was killing it. Tolstoy -ran into the house, seized a loaded gun, and returned in -time to see a wolf running straight towards him from the -other side of a wattle-fence. The wolf jumped on to the -top of the fence and descended close to Tolstoy who, -almost touching him with the muzzle of his gun, drew the -trigger. The gun missed fire, and the wolf raced off, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -chased by Boúlka and by Tolstoy's setter, Milton. The -wolf escaped, but not till it had snapped at Boúlka and -inflicted a slight wound on his head. Strange to say, the -wolf ventured to return a little later into the middle of the -street, and again escaped unhurt.</p> - -<p>Not long after, in Pyatigórsk, shortly before Tolstoy -left the Caucasus, while drinking coffee in the garden of -his lodging, he heard a tremendous noise of men and dogs, -and, on inquiry, learnt that convicts had been let out of -gaol to kill the dogs, of whom there were too many in -the town, but that orders had been given to spare dogs -wearing collars. As ill-luck would have it, Tolstoy had -removed Boúlka's collar; and Boúlka, apparently recognising -the convicts as his natural enemies, rushed out into the -street and flew at one of them. A man had just freed -the long hook he carried, from the corpse of a dog he had -caught and held down while his companions beat it to -death with bludgeons. He now adroitly hooked Boúlka -and drew the unfortunate dog towards him, calling to -his mate to kill it, which the latter prepared to do. -Boúlka however bounded aside with such force that the -skin of his thigh burst where the hook held it, and with -tail between his legs and a red wound on his thigh, he -flew back into the house and hid under Tolstoy's bed. -His escape was not of much use. The wolf that had -snapped at him six weeks before must have been mad, -for Boúlka after showing premonitory symptoms of rabies, -disappeared, and was never heard of more.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's state of mind during the latter part of this -year is indicated by his letters. To his brother Sergius -he wrote on 20th July:</p> - -<p class="i2">I think I already wrote you that I have sent in my resignation. -God knows, however, on account of the war with -Turkey, whether it will be accepted, or when. This disturbs -me very much, for I have now grown so accustomed to happy -thoughts of soon settling down in the country, that to return -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -to Starogládovsk and again wait unendingly—as I have to -wait for everything connected with my service—will be very -unpleasant.</p> - -<p>Again, in December, he writes from Starogládovsk:</p> - -<p class="i2">Please write about my papers quickly. This is necessary. -'<i>When shall I come home?</i>' God only knows. For nearly a -year I have been thinking only of how to sheath my sword, -but still cannot manage it. And as I must fight somewhere, I -think it will be pleasanter to do so in Turkey than here, and I -have therefore applied to Prince Serge Dmítrievitch [Gortchakóf] -about it, and he writes me that he has written to his -brother, but what the result will be, I do not know.</p> - -<p>It will be remembered that Tolstoy's paternal grandmother -was a Gortchakóf. Through her he was nearly -related to Prince S. D. Gortchakóf and to his brother, -Prince Michael Dmítrievitch Gortchakóf, who had been a -friend of his father's in the war of 1812, and was now in -command of the Russian army on the Danube.</p> - -<p>The letter continues:</p> - -<p class="i2">At any rate by New Year I expect to change my way of life, -which I confess wearies me intolerably. Stupid officers, stupid -conversations, and nothing else. If there were but a single -man to whom one could open one's soul! Tourgénef is right: -'What irony there is in solitude,'—one becomes palpably -stupid oneself. Although Nikólenka has gone off with the -hounds—Heaven knows why (Epíshka<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> and I often call him -'a pig' for so doing)—I go out hunting alone for whole days -at a time from morning to evening, with a setter. That is my -only pleasure—and not a pleasure but a narcotic. One tires -oneself out, gets famished, sleeps like the dead, and a day has -passed. When you have an opportunity, or are yourself in -Moscow, buy me Dickens' <i>David Copperfield</i> in English, and -send me <i>Sadler's English Dictionary</i> which is among my books.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -Of the entries in his Diary at this time, we may note -the following:</p> - -<p class="i2">All the prayers I have invented I replace by the one prayer, -'Our Father.' All the requests I can make to God are far more -loftily expressed and more worthily of Him, in the words 'Thy -Kingdom come, as in heaven so on earth.'</p> - -<p>About this time he completed his <i>Memoirs of a Billiard -Marker</i>, and sent it to the <i>Contemporary</i> with a letter -expressing his own dissatisfaction with the hasty workmanship -of the story; it did not appear till more than a year -later. He was also now at work on <i>Boyhood</i>.</p> - -<p>Seventeen years after Tolstoy had left the Caucasus, an -officer stationed at Starogládovsk found his memory still -fresh among the Cossacks, and saw Mariána (comparatively -aged by that time), as well as several elderly Cossack -hunters who had shot wild fowl and wild boars with -Tolstoy. In his regiment he left the reputation of being -an excellent narrator, who enthralled every one by his conversation.</p> - - -<h3>1854</h3> - -<p>Not till January 1854 did the long-expected order -arrive allowing him to pass the examination (a pure -formality at that time) entitling him to become -an officer. On the 19th he left for home, and on -2nd February reached Yásnaya, where he enjoyed a three -weeks' stay with his Aunt Tatiána, his brother, and a friend. -On this journey he encountered a severe storm, to which -we owe <i>The Snow Storm</i>, published a couple of years later, -and probably also much of the storm description in <i>Master -and Man</i>, written in later life.</p> - -<p>The Russo-Turkish war had now begun in earnest, and, -as a result of his application, he received orders to join the -army of the Danube, which he set out accordingly to do.</p> - -<p>Of the Caucasian period of his life, as of his University -days, Tolstoy has at different times expressed himself -differently. To Birukóf, in 1905, he spoke of it as one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -of the best times of his life, notwithstanding all his deflections -from his dimly recognised ideals. Yet two years -earlier, writing of the four periods of his life, he had -spoken of 'the terrible twenty years of coarse dissipation, -the service of ambition, vanity, and above all, of lust,' -which followed after the age of fourteen.</p> - -<p>But what it comes to is, that Tolstoy is a man of moods, -and judges himself and others, sometimes by ordinary and -sometimes by extraordinary standards.</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER III</h3> - -<p>Birukof.</p> - -<p>Behrs.</p> - -<p>U. Bitovt, <i>Graf L. Tolstoy v literatoure i iskousstve</i>: Petersburg, -1903. (Hereafter called 'Bitovt.') Though ill-arranged, this book -is valuable to any one engaged on the difficult task of compiling -a Bibliography of Tolstoy's works.</p> - -<p>Nekrasof's letters to Tolstoy published in the Literary Supplement -to the <i>Niva</i>, February 1898.</p> - -<p>Much light is also thrown on this period of Tolstoy's life by the -following works, which must not be considered autobiographical:</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>The Raid.</i><br /> -<i>The Wood-Felling.</i><br /> -<i>Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance.</i><br /> -<i>The Cossacks</i>, and<br /> -<i>The Snow Storm</i>,</p> - -<p>as well as by stories included in Tolstoy's <i>Readers</i>:</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>Boulka.</i><br /> -<i>Boulka and the Wild Boar.</i><br /> -<i>Milton and Boulka.</i><br /> -<i>Boulka and the Wolf.</i><br /> -<i>What Happened to Boulka in Pyatigorsk.</i><br /> -<i>Boulka's and Milton's End.</i><br /> -<i>A Prisoner in the Caucasus.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap4">CHAPTER IV<br /> -THE CRIMEAN WAR</h2> - -<p class="i2">Joins army of the Danube. Siege of Silistria. Sevastopol. -Projected Newspaper. <i>Sevastopol in December.</i> Battle of the -Tchérnaya. Capture of the Maláhof. Courier to Petersburg. -Song. Relations with superiors and fellow-officers. -Self-depreciation. <i>The Wood-Felling.</i> <i>Sevastopol in May.</i> -The Censor. On War.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">At</span> twenty-five years of age it fell to Tolstoy's lot to take -part in a great European war and thereby to extend the -range of his experience in a way that considerably affected -his subsequent life and writings.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy tells us that he got his first understanding of -war from Stendhal, the author of <i>Le Rouge et le Noir</i> and -<i>La Chartreuse de Parme</i>. In conversation with Paul -Boyer, Tolstoy once spoke of those novels as inimitable -works of art, adding, 'I am greatly indebted to Stendhal. -He taught me to understand war. Re-read the description -of the battle of Waterloo in <i>La Chartreuse de Parme</i>. -Who ever before so described war? Described it, that is, -as it is in reality? Do you remember Fabrice riding -over the field of battle and understanding "nothing"?'</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's brother Nicholas, though fond of war, also -disbelieved in the popular romantic view of it, and used to -say: 'All <i>that</i> is embellishment, and in real war there is -no embellishment.'—'A little later, in the Crimea,' added -Tolstoy in his talk with Boyer, 'I had a grand chance to -see with my own eyes that this is so.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<p>Of the causes that led to the war it need only be said -that the rule of the Turks over Christian populations had -long kept a dangerous sore open in Europe, and the consequent -diplomatic difficulties were complicated by the -indefiniteness of two lines in the Treaty of Kainardji, -which Catherine the Great had imposed upon Turkey in -1774. There was also friction between the Eastern and -Western Churches, with reference to the custody of the -Places in Palestine rendered holy by their traditional connection -with the Prince of Peace. Nicholas I, who had -wellnigh drilled all intelligence out of those near him in -his Government and in his army, was not accustomed to be -thwarted. Dimly conscious of the first faint symptoms of -that growth of Liberalism which a few years later, in the -early 'sixties, led to sweeping reforms in Russia, he felt -inclined to demonstrate the beneficence of his rule not by -allowing changes to be made at home, but by arbitrarily -inflicting reforms on Turkey. Failing to get his way by -diplomatic pressure, he rashly proceeded to occupy the -Danubian Principalities as a 'material guarantee' of -Turkey's compliance with his demands.</p> - -<p>He was opposed by Austria and Prussia as strongly as -by England and France, and the pressure exerted by the -four powers sufficed to compel him to withdraw his army -from Turkish soil. Thereupon the war, which had as yet -been waged only between Russia and Turkey, might well -have ended, had not England and France undertaken a -quite needless invasion of the Crimea: an enterprise in -which Austria and Prussia refused to join. The end did -not justify the proceedings, for in spite of success in this -war, Napoleon the Third's dynasty crumbled to dust -within twenty years, while within a like period after -Palmerston's death Lord Salisbury frankly admitted that -we had 'put our money on the wrong horse.' As to -Nicholas I, his pride was destined to be bitterly mortified -by the results of an enterprise which not only failed of its -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -immediate object, but by its failure actually hastened the -coming of those reforms in Russia against which he had -set his face. Even Turkey did not really benefit by being -allowed to oppress her subject races for a couple of generations -longer.</p> - -<p>It was the influence of Napoleon III, as Kinglake has -pointed out, that led England to take part in the war. -Having by treachery and murder made himself Emperor -of the French, that monarch found himself for a time -dangerously isolated from the support of people of good -repute. In consultation with Palmerston, he decided to -subordinate the traditional Eastern policy of his country -to that of England if thereby he could succeed in being -publicly paraded as the friend and ally of Queen Victoria. -As soon as he had secured an alliance with England, with -Palmerston's aid, and helped by the extraordinary war fever -which seized the English nation, he quickly forced the -peacefully disposed Lord Aberdeen along an inclined plane -which ultimately plunged both nations into a war for -which no sufficient motive justification or excuse existed.</p> - - -<h3>1854</h3> - -<p>Hostilities between Russia and Turkey had begun in -October 1853, but France and England did not break off -negotiations with the former power till the end of -March 1854, the very month in which Tolstoy -reached Bucharest on his way through Wallachia to join -the army.</p> - -<p>From there he wrote to his aunt, telling of his journey. -The roads after he had passed Khersón, and especially after -he had crossed the frontier, were abominable; his journey -lasted nine days; and he 'arrived almost ill with fatigue.'</p> - -<p>A few days later, on 17th March, he wrote of his first -interview with Gortchakóf:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a>Le prince Gortchakóf n'était pas ici. Hier il vient -d'arriver et je viens de chez lui. Il m'a reçu mieux que je ne<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -croyais—en vrai parent. Il m'a embrassé, il m'a engagé de -venir dîner tous les jours chez lui et il veut me garder auprčs -de lui, mais ce n'est pas encore décidé.</p> - -<p class="i2">Pardon, chčre tante, que je vous écris peu—je n'ai pas encore -la tęte ŕ moi,—cette grande et belle ville, toutes ces présentations, -l'opéra italien, le théâtre français, les deux jeunes -Gortchakóf qui sont de trčs braves garçons ... de sorte que -je ne suis pas resté deux heures chez moi, et je n'ai pas pensé -ŕ mes occupations.</p> - -<p>On 22nd March he adds: 'I learnt yesterday that I am -not to remain with the Prince, but am to go to Oltenitza -to join my battery.'</p> - -<p>In May he wrote:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a>Tandis que vous me croyez exposé ŕ tous les dangers de -la guerre je n'ai pas encore senti la poudre turque, et je suis -trčs tranquillement ŕ Boukarest ŕ me promener, ŕ faire de la -musique et ŕ manger des glaces. En effet tout ce temps, -excepté deux semaines que j'ai passées ŕ Oltenitza oů j'ai été -attaché ŕ une batterie, et une semaine que j'ai passée en courses -par la Moldavie, Valachie et Bessarabie par ordre du gén. -Serjpoutóvsky auprčs duquel je suis ŕ présent <i>by special appointment</i>, -je suis resté ŕ Boukarest et ŕ vous avouer franchement,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -ce genre de vie un peu dissipé, tout ŕ fait oisif et trčs coűteux -que je mčne ici me déplaît infiniment. Auparavant c'était le -service qui m'y retenait, mais ŕ présent j'y suis resté pendant -prčs de trois semaines ŕ cause d'une fičvre que j'ai attrapée -pendant mon voyage, mais dont, Dieu merci, je suis pour le -moment assez rétabli pour rejoindre dans deux ou trois jours -mon général qui est au camp prčs de Silistrie. A propos de -mon général, il a l'air d'ętre un trčs brave homme et paraît, -quoique nous nous connaissons fort peu, ętre bien disposé ŕ -mon égard. Ce qui est encore fort agréable est que son état-major -est composé pour la plupart de gens comme il faut.</p> - -<p>We shall find Tolstoy modifying this opinion, a little -later on; but it is worth noting that at this time he was -fully alive to the superiority of '<i>gens comme il faut</i>,' and -that his depreciation of them in later years may have been -partly a reaction from a previous over-valuation.</p> - -<p>By June 1854 the military and political situation was -as follows. The Russians had advanced through Moldavia -and Wallachia to the Danube, had crossed that river, and -were besieging Silistria. Austria, supporting the other -great powers, had massed a powerful army on the Turkish -frontier, and a glance at the map of Europe will show that -the Russian army, far removed from its base, was in -imminent danger of being cut off by the Austrians, who -peremptorily summoned Russia to evacuate the Principalities, -and on 14th June concluded a formal alliance with -the Porte. These circumstances explain the sudden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -abandonment of the siege of Silistria mentioned in the -following letter, addressed by Leo Tolstoy to his Aunt -Tatiána and to his brother Nicholas conjointly; though -when he wrote it, the causes which produced the result he -described were a mystery to him.</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a>Je vais vous parler donc de mes souvenirs de Silistrie. -J'y ai vu tant de choses intéressantes, poétiques et touchantes -que le temps que j'y ai passé ne s'effacera jamais de ma mémoire. -Notre camp était disposé de l'autre côté du Danube c.ŕ d. sur -la rive droite sur un terrain trčs élevé au milieu de superbes -jardins, appartenant ŕ Mustafa Pasha—le gouverneur de Silistrie. -La vue de cet endroit est non seulement magnifique, -mais pour nous tous du plus grand intéręt. Sans parler du -Danube, de ces îles et de ces rivages, les uns occupés par nous, -les autres par les Turcs, on voyait la ville, la forteresse, les petits -forts de Silistrie comme sur la main. On entendait les coups -de canons, de fusils qui ne cessaient ni jour ni nuit, et avec -une lunette d'approche on pouvait distinguer les soldats turcs. -Il est vrai que c'est un drôle de plaisir que de voir de gens -s'entretuer et cependant tous les soirs et matins je me mettais -sur ma cart et je restais des heures entičres ŕ regarder et ce -n'était pas moi le seul qui le faisait. Le spectacle était vraiment -beau, surtout la nuit. Les nuits ordinairement mes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -soldats se mettent aux travaux des tranchées, et les Turcs se -jettent sur eux pour les en empęcher, alors il fallait voir et -entendre cette fusillade. La premičre nuit que j'ai passée au -camp ce bruit terrible m'a reveillé et effrayé, je croyais qu'on -est allé a l'assaut et j'ai bien vite fait seller mon cheval, mais -ceux qui avait déjŕ passé quelque temps au camp me dirent que -je n'avais qu'ŕ me tenir tranquille, que cette canonnade et -fusillade était une chose ordinaire et qu'on appela en plaisantant, -'Allah'; alors je me suis recouché, mais ne pouvant m'endormir -je me suis amusé, une montre ŕ la main, ŕ compter les coups -de canon que j'entendais et j'ai compté 110 explosions dans -l'espace d'une minute. Et cependant tout ceci n'a eu de prčs -l'air aussi effrayant que cela le paraît. La nuit, quand on n'y -voyait rien, c'était ŕ qui brűlerait le plus de poudre et avec ces -milliers de coups de canons on tuait tout au plus une trentaine -d'hommes de part et d'autre.</p> - -<p class="i2">Ceci donc est un spectacle ordinaire que nous avions tous -les jours et dans lequel, quand on m'envoyait avec des ordres -dans les tranchées, je prenais aussi ma part; mais nous avions -aussi des spectacles extraordinaires, comme celui de la veille de -l'assaut quand on a fait sauter une mine de 240 pouds de poudre -sous un des bastions de l'ennemi. Le matin de cette journée<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -le prince avait été aux tranchées avec tout son état-major -(comme le général auprčs duquel j'étais en fait partie, j'y ai -aussi été) pour faire les dispositions définies—vu pour l'assaut -du lendemain. Le plan, trop long pour que je puisse l'expliquer -ici, était si bien fait, tout était si bien prévu que personne -ne doutait de la réussite. A propos de cela il faut que -je vous dise encore que je commence ŕ avoir de l'admiration -pour le prince (au reste il faut en entendre parler parmi les -officiers et les soldats, non seulement je n'ai jamais entendu -dire du mal de lui, mais il est généralement adoré).</p> - -<p class="i2">Je l'ai vu au feu pour la premičre fois pendant cette matinée. -Il faut voir cette figure un peu ridicule avec sa grande taille, -ses mains derričre le dos, sa casquette en arričre, ses lunettes -et sa maničre de parler comme un dindon. On voit qu'il était -tellement occupé de la marche générale des affaires que les -balles et les boulets n'existaient pas pour lui; il s'expose au -danger avec tant de simplicité, qu'on dirait qu'il n'en a pas -l'idée et qu'involontairement qu'on n'a plus peur de lui que pour -soi-męme; et puis donnant ses ordres avec tant de clarté et de -précision et avec cela toujours affable avec chacun. C'est un<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -grand, c.ŕ d. un homme qui s'est voué toute sa vie au service de -sa patrie et pas par l'ambition, mais par le devoir. Je vais vous -raconter un trait de lui qui se lie ŕ l'histoire de cet assaut que -j'ai commencé ŕ raconter. L'aprčs-dîner du męme jour on -a fait sauter la mine, et prčs de 600 pičces d'artillerie ont fait -feu sur le fort qu'on voulait prendre, et on continuait ce feu -pendant toute la nuit, c'était un de ces coups d'œil et une de -ces émotions qu'on n'oublie jamais. Le soir de nouveau le -prince, avec tout le tremblement, est allé coucher aux tranchées -pour diriger lui-męme l'assaut qui devait commencer ŕ 3 heures -de la nuit męme.</p> - -<p class="i2">Nous étions tous lŕ et comme toujours ŕ la veille d'une -bataille nous faisions tous semblant de ne pas plus penser de la -journée de demain qu'ŕ une journée ordinaire et tous, j'en suis -sűr, au fond du cœur ressentaient un petit serrement de cœur -et pas męme un petit mais un grand, ŕ l'idée de l'assaut. Comme -tu sais que le temps qui précčde une affaire est le temps le plus -désagréable—c'est le seul oů on a le temps d'avoir peur, et la -peur est un sentiment des plus désagréables. Vers le matin, -plus le moment approchait, plus le sentiment diminuait et vers -3 heures quand nous attendions tous ŕ voir partir le bouquet de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -fusées qui était le signal de l'attaque—j'étais si bien disposé -que si l'on était venu me dire que l'assaut n'aurait pas lieu, cela -m'aurait fait beaucoup de peine. Et voilŕ que juste une heure -avant le moment de l'assaut arrive un aide de camp du maréchal -avec l'ordre d'ôter le sičge de Silistrie. Je puis dire sans -craindre de me tromper que cette nouvelle a été reçue par tous—soldats, -officiers et généraux—comme un vrai malheur, d'autant -plus qu'on savait par les espions, qui nous venaient trčs -souvent de Silistrie, et avec lesquels j'avais trčs souvent l'occasion -de causer moi-męme, on savait que ce fort pris,—chose -dont personne ne doutait—Silistrie ne pouvait tenir plus de -2 ou 3 jours. N'est-ce pas que si cette nouvelle devait faire de -la peine ŕ quelqu'un ce devait ętre au prince, qui pendant toute -cette campagne ayant fait toute chose pour le mieux, au beau -milieu de l'action vit venir le maréchal sur son dos pour gâter -les affaires et puis ayant la seule chance de réparer nos revers -par cet assaut, il reçoit le contre ordre du maréchal au moment -de le commencer. Eh bien, le prince n'a pas eu un moment de -mauvaise humeur, lui, qui est si impressionable, au contraire il a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -été content de pouvoir éviter cette boucherie, dont il devait -porter la responsabilité et tout le temps de la retraite qu'il -a dirigé lui-męme, ne voulant passer qu'avec le dernier des -soldats, qui s'est faite avec un ordre et une exactitude remarquables, -il a été plus gai qu'il n'a jamais été. Ce qui contribuait -beaucoup ŕ sa bonne humeur, c'était l'émigration de prčs de -7000 familles bulgares, que nous prenons avec pour le souvenir -de la férocité des Turcs—férocité a laquelle malgré mon incredulité -j'ai été obligé de croire. Dčs que nous avons quitté -des différents villages bulgares que nous occupions, les Turcs y -sont revenus et excepté les femmes assez jeunes pour un harem, -ils ont fait main basse sur tout ce qu'il y avait. Il y a un village -dans lequel je suis allé du camp pour y prendre du lait -et des fruits qui a été exterminé de la sorte. Alors dčs que le -prince avait fait savoir aux Bulgares que ceux qui voulaient -pouvaient avec l'armée passer le Danube et devenir sujets -russes, tout le pays se soulčve et tous avec leurs femmes, enfants, -chevaux, bétails arrivent au pont,—mais comme il était -impossible de les prendre tous, le prince a été obligé de refuser -ŕ ceux qui sont venus les derniers et il fallait voir comme cela<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -le chagrinait. Il recevait toutes les députations qui venaient -de ces pauvres gens, il causait avec chacun d'eux, tâchait de -leur expliquer l'impossibilité de la chose, leur proposait de passer -sans leurs chariots et leur bétail et en se chargeant de leurs -moyens de subsistence jusqu'ŕ ce qu'ils arrivassent en Russie, -payant de sa propre bourse des vaisseaux particuliers pour les -transporter, en un mot faisant tout son possible pour faire -du bien ŕ ces gens.</p> - -<p class="i2">Oui, chčre tante, je voudrais bien que votre prophétie se -réalise. La chose que j'ambitionne le plus, est d'ętre l'aide -de camp d'un homme comme lui que j'aime et que j'estime du -plus profond de mon cœur. Adieu, chčre et bonne tante; -je baise vos mains.</p> - -<p>The army retired to Bucharest, and here, at an officers' -ball, Tolstoy seized an opportunity to beg Gortchakóf to -have him transferred to where service would be most -active.</p> - -<p>The retreat from Silistria took place at the end of -June, and on 2nd August we find Tolstoy starting for -Russia. On the journey he fell ill and had to lie up in -hospital. On 13th November in Kishinéf he renewed -his application for an appointment in the Crimea, and was -ordered to Sevastopol, which he reached on the 20th of -that month.<a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>1854</h3> - -<p>The situation there, at this time, was the following. -The Allies had landed in the Crimea to the north of -Sevastopol on 14th September, and had defeated -the Russian army under Ménshikof on the 20th -at Alma. Instead of marching straight into the town, -which was almost undefended, they had then gone round -and encamped on the south side, where they remained -inactive till 17th October, by which time Todleben, an -engineer of rare genius, had thrown up earthworks and -mounted guns (many of them taken from the Russian ships -Ménshikof sank at the entrance to the Roadstead). -Ménshikof himself had practically abandoned the town, -withdrawing the bulk of his army northward; but the -situation was saved by the patriotism of just that section -of the Russian forces which had been least exposed to the -deadening influence of Nicholas the First's militarism,—namely -by the officers and men of the fleet. Inspired by -the example of the heroic Admiral Kornílof (who lost -his life during the siege) they rallied to the defence with -a courageous devotion seldom paralleled. Their example -awoke enthusiasm throughout Russia and compelled -Ménshikof to supply reinforcements, which enabled the -town to hold out for eleven months, in spite of the great -superiority of the Allies in rifles, artillery and the -modern equipments of war generally.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy reached Sevastopol when the defence was -already fully organised, and when (in spite of the repulse -experienced by the Russians at Inkerman) the garrison -had gained confidence in their powers of resistance, and -had settled down to a dogged defence.</p> - -<p>Of the hospitals, in which the wounded saw one -another's limbs amputated while waiting their own turn; -of the staff officers, who managed to amuse themselves -pretty well during the siege; of the commissariat officers, -flourishing amid the general havoc; as well as of the line -and non-commissioned officers and privates, upon whom -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -the greatest hardships fell, Tolstoy gives vivid glimpses in -the Sketches he wrote during the siege.</p> - -<p>A fortnight after his arrival he writes, from somewhere -outside the town, to his brother Sergius, apologising for -not having sent him a letter sooner, and adds:</p> - -<p class="i2">So much have I learnt, experienced, and felt this year that I -positively do not know what to begin to describe, nor how to -describe it as I wish to.... Silistria is now ancient history, and -we have Sevastopol, of which I suppose you all read with beating -hearts, and where I was four days ago. Well, how can I tell -you all I saw there, and where I went and what I did, and -what the prisoners and wounded French and English say; and -<i>whether it hurts them and hurts very much</i>,<a name="FNanchor_18" id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> and what heroes our -enemies are, especially the English? I will tell all that later -at Yásnaya or at Pirogóvo; and you will learn much of it from -me through the press. How this will happen, I will explain -later; but now let me give you an idea of the position of affairs -in Sevastopol. The town is besieged from one side, the south, -where we had no fortifications when the enemy approached it. -Now we have on that side more than 500 heavy guns, and -several lines of earthworks, positively impregnable. I spent -a week in the fortress, and to the last day used to lose my way -among that labyrinth of batteries, as in a wood. More than -three weeks ago the enemy advanced his trenches at one place -to within 200 yards, but gets no further. When he makes the -smallest advance he is overwhelmed with a hailstorm of shot -and shell.</p> - -<p class="i2">The spirit of the army is beyond all description. In the -times of ancient Greece there was not such heroism. Kornílof, -making the round of the troops, instead of greeting them with, -'Good health to you, lads!' says: 'If you have to die, lads, will -you die?' and the troops shout, 'We'll die, Your Excellency! -Hurrah!' and they do not say it for effect. On every face one -saw that it was not jest but earnest; and 22,000 men have -already fulfilled the promise.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -A wounded soldier, almost dying, told me they captured -the 24th French Battery but were not reinforced; and he wept -aloud. A Company of Marines nearly mutinied because they -were to be withdrawn from batteries in which they had been -exposed to shell-fire for thirty days. The soldiers extract the -fuses from the shells. Women carry water to the bastions for -the soldiers. Many are killed and wounded. The priests -with their crosses go to the bastions and read prayers under -fire. In one brigade, the 24th, more than 160 wounded men -would not leave the front. It is a wonderful time! Now, -however, after the 24th, we have quieted down; it has become -splendid in Sevastopol. The enemy hardly fires, and all are -convinced that he will not take the town; and it is really impossible.... -I have not yet succeeded in being in action even -once; but thank God that I have seen these people and live -in this glorious time. The bombardment of the 5th [17 -October, n.s.] remains the most brilliant and glorious feat not -only in the history of Russia, but in the history of the world. -More than 1500 cannon were in action for two days against the -town, and not only did not cause it to capitulate, but did not -silence one two-hundredth part of our batteries. Though, I -suppose, this campaign is unfavourably regarded in Russia, our -descendants will place it above all others; do not forget that -we, with equal or even inferior forces, and armed only with -bayonets, and with the worst troops in the Russian army (such -as the 6th corps) are fighting a more numerous enemy aided by -a fleet, armed with 3000 cannon, excellently supplied with rifles -and with their best troops. I do not even mention the -superiority of their Generals.</p> - -<p class="i2">Only our army could hold its ground and conquer (we shall -yet conquer, of that I am convinced) under such circumstances. -You should see the French and English prisoners (especially -the latter): they are each one better than the other—morally -and physically fine fellows. The Cossacks say it is even a pity -to cut them down, and alongside of them you should see -some Chasseurs or others of ours: small, lousy, and shrivelled -up.</p> - -<p class="i2">Now I will tell you how you will get printed news from me of -the deeds of these lousy and shrivelled heroes. In our artillery<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -staff, consisting, as I think I wrote you, of very good and -worthy men, a project has been started for publishing a military -newspaper, in order to maintain a good spirit in the army—a -cheap paper (at Rs. 3) and popularly written, so that the -soldiers may read it. We have drawn up a plan and submitted -it to the Prince. He likes the idea very much, and has -submitted the project and a specimen sheet which we also -wrote, for the Emperor's sanction. I and Stolýpin<a name="FNanchor_19" id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> are -advancing the money for the publication. I have been chosen -joint editor with a Mr. Konstantínof, who published <i>The -Caucasus</i>, a man experienced in such work. The paper will -publish descriptions of the battles (but not such dry and -mendacious ones as other papers) courageous deeds, biographies, -and obituaries of good men, especially the unknown; military -stories, soldiers' songs, and popular articles on engineering, -artillery, etc. This plan pleases me very much: in the first -place, I like the work; and secondly, I hope the paper will be -useful and not quite bad. It is as yet merely a project, until -we know the Emperor's reply, about which I confess I have -my fears. In the specimen sheet sent to Petersburg, we -rashly inserted two articles, one by me and one by Rostóvtsef, -not quite orthodox. For this business I want Rs. 1500, which -I have asked Valeryán to send me.</p> - -<p class="i2">I, thank God, am well, and live happily and pleasantly since -I returned from Turkey. In general, my army service divides -up into two periods: beyond the frontier—horrid: I was ill, -poor, and lonely. This side of the frontier—I am well and -have good friends, though I am still poor: money simply runs -away.</p> - -<p class="i2">As to writing, I do not write; but, as Aunty teases me by -saying, 'I test myself.' One thing disquiets me: this is the -fourth year I live without female society; and I may become -quite coarse and unsuited for family life, which I so enjoy.</p> - -<p>A few days later his battery was moved to Simferópol, -a town lying to the north of Sevastopol, beyond the sphere -of actual fighting.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>1855</h3> - -<p>On 6th January (o.s.) he wrote to his Aunt:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_20" id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a>On ne se bat plus en rase campagne, ŕ cause de l'hiver -qui est extraordinairement rigoureux, surtout ŕ présent; mais le -sičge dure toujours.... J'avais parlé je crois d'une occupation -que j'avais en vue et qui me souriait beaucoup; ŕ présent que -la chose est décidée, je puis le dire. J'avais l'idée de fonder -un journal militaire. Ce projet auquel j'ai travaillé avec le -concours de beaucoup de gens trčs distingués fut approuvé par -le prince et envoyé ŕ la décision de sa Majesté, mais l'empereur -a refusé.</p> - -<p class="i2">Cette déconfiture, je vous l'avoue, m'a fait une peine infinie -et a beaucoup changé mes plans. Si Dieu veut que la campagne -de Crimée finisse bien et si je ne reçois pas une place -dont je sois content, et qu'il n'y ait pas de guerre en Russie, -je quitterai l'armée pour aller ŕ Pétersbourg ŕ l'académie -militaire. Ce plan m'est venu, 1° parce que je voudrais ne pas -abandonner la littérature dont il m'est impossible de m'occuper -dans cette vie de camp, et 2° parce qu'il me paraît que je -commence ŕ devenir ambitieux, pas ambitieux, mais je voudrais -faire du bien et pour le faire il faut ętre plus qu'un Sub-Lieutenant; -3° parce que je vous verrai tous et tous mes amis.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -In May he wrote again to his brother:</p> - -<p class="i2">From Kishinéf on 1st November (o.s.), I petitioned to be -sent to the Crimea, partly in order to see this war, and partly -to break away from Serzhpoutóvsky's staff, which I did not like, -but most of all from patriotism, of which at that time, I confess, -I had a bad attack. I did not ask for any special appointment, -but left it to those in authority to dispose of my fate. In the -Crimea I was appointed to a battery in Sevastopol itself, where -I passed a month very pleasantly amid simple, good companions, -who are specially good in time of real war and danger. In -December our battery was removed to Simferópol, and there I -spent 6 weeks in a squire's comfortable house, riding into Simferópol -to dance and play the piano with young ladies, and in -hunting wild goats on the Tchatyrdag [the highest point of the -chain of mountains running across the southern part of the -Crimea] in company with officials. In January there was a -fresh shuffling of officers, and I was removed to a battery -encamped on the banks of the Belbék, 7 miles from Sevastopol. -There I got into hot water: the nastiest set of officers -in the battery; a Commander who, though good-hearted, was -violent and coarse; no comforts, and it was cold in the earth -huts. Not a single book, nor a single man with whom one -could talk; and there I received the Rs. 1500 [= about Ł180 -at that time] for the newspaper, sanction for which had already -been refused; and there I lost Rs. 2500, and thereby proved to -all the world that I am still an empty fellow, and though the -previous circumstances may be taken into account in mitigation, -the case is still a very, very bad one. In March it became -warmer, and a good fellow, an excellent man, Brenévsky, joined -the battery. I began to recover myself; and on 1 April, at -the very time of the bombardment, the battery was moved to -Sevastopol, and I quite recovered myself. There, till 15 May -(o.s.) I was in serious danger, <i>i.e.</i> for four days at a time, at -intervals of eight days, I was in charge of a battery in the -4th Bastion; but it was spring and the weather was excellent, -there was abundance of impressions and of people, all the comforts -of life, and we formed a capital circle of well-bred fellows; -so that those six weeks will remain among my pleasantest re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>collections. -On 15 May Gortchakóf, or the Commander of the -Artillery, took it into his head to entrust me with the formation -and command of a mountain platoon at Belbék, 14 miles from -Sevastopol, with which arrangement I am up to the present -extremely well satisfied in many respects.</p> - -<p>The transfer of Tolstoy from Sevastopol to Belbék was -not, as he supposed when he wrote this letter, a whim of -Gortchakóf's or of the Commander of the Artillery, but a -result of his having written the first of his three sketches -of the siege of Sevastopol, <i>Sevastopol in December</i>. The -article, though not published in the <i>Contemporary</i> till -June, had been read in proof by the Emperor Alexander II -[Nicholas had died 2nd March, n.s.], and had caused -him to give instructions to 'take care of the life of -that young man,' with the result that Tolstoy was -removed from Sevastopol. The Dowager Empress Alexándra -Fédorovna also read the story and, it is said, wept -over it.</p> - -<p>It was, perhaps, at this time (though I am not sure of -the date) that Tolstoy found himself obliged to consent to -the sale of the large wooden house in which he had been -born, for the wretched price of 5000 'assignation roubles' -(about Ł170). The house was taken to pieces, and -removed to the estate of the purchaser, where it still stands, -though not now in use.</p> - -<p>Apropos of the above letter it should be mentioned that -the Fourth Bastion was the one English writers call 'the -Flagstaff Bastion.' It formed the southernmost point of -the fortifications, as a glance at the accompanying map will -show, and it was for a long time the point exposed to the -fiercest fire.</p> - -<p>Throughout the siege Tolstoy was accompanied by -Alexis, one of the four serfs presented to the young -Tolstoys when they entered the University. This man -(who figures in more than one of Tolstoy's works under -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -the name of Alyósha) brought him his rations to the -bastion, a duty involving considerable danger. What the -bastions were like in the first months of the siege, we learn -from the following passages in the first part of <i>Sevastopol</i>:</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="p113"><img src="images/p113.jpg" width="550" -height="419" alt="" title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -...You want to get quickly to the bastions, especially to -that Fourth Bastion about which you have been told so many -and such different tales. When any one says, 'I am going to the -Fourth Bastion,' a slight agitation or a too marked indifference is -always noticeable in him; if men are joking they say, 'You -should be sent to the Fourth Bastion.' When you meet some -one carried on a stretcher, and ask, 'Where from?' the answer -usually is, 'From the Fourth Bastion.'...</p> - -<p class="i2">...Beyond this barricade the houses on both sides of the -street are unoccupied: there are no signboards, the doors are -boarded up, the windows smashed; here a corner of the walls -is knocked down, and there a roof is broken in. The buildings -look like old veterans who have borne much sorrow and privation; -they even seem to gaze proudly and somewhat contemptuously -at you. On the road you stumble over cannon-balls -that lie about, and into holes full of water, made in the stony -ground by bombs. You meet and overtake detachments of -soldiers, Cossacks, officers, and occasionally a woman or a child—only -it will not be a woman wearing a bonnet, but a sailor's -wife wearing an old cloak and soldier's boots. Farther along -the same street, after you have descended a little slope, you -will notice that there are now no houses, but only ruined walls -in strange heaps of bricks, boards, clay and beams, and before -you, up a steep hill, you see a black untidy space cut up by -ditches. This space you are approaching is the Fourth Bastion.... -Here you will meet still fewer people and no women at -all, the soldiers walk briskly by, traces of blood may be seen -on the road, and you are sure to meet four soldiers carrying a -stretcher, and on the stretcher probably a pale, yellow face and -a blood-stained overcoat....</p> - -<p class="i2">The whiz of cannon-ball or bomb near by, impresses you -unpleasantly as you ascend the hill, and you at once understand -the meaning of the sounds very differently from when -they reached you in the town.... You have hardly gone a -little way up, when bullets begin to whiz past you right and -left, and you will perhaps consider whether you had not better -walk inside the trench which runs parallel to the road; but the -trench is full of such yellow, liquid, stinking mud, more than -knee deep, that you are sure to choose the road, especially as -<i>everybody</i> keeps to the road. After walking a couple of hundred -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -yards, you come to a muddy place much cut up, surrounded by -gabions, cellars, platforms, and dug-outs, and on which large -cast-iron cannon are mounted, and cannon-balls lie piled in -orderly heaps. All seems placed without any aim, connection, -or order. Here a group of sailors are sitting in the battery; -here, in the middle of the open space, half sunk in mud, lies a -shattered cannon; and there a foot-soldier is crossing the -battery, drawing his feet with difficulty out of the sticky mud. -Everywhere, on all sides and all about, you see bomb-fragments, -unexploded bombs, cannon-balls, and various traces of -an encampment, all sunk in the liquid, sticky mud. You think -you hear the thud of a cannon-ball not far off, and you seem to -hear the different sounds of bullets all around—some humming -like bees, some whistling, and some rapidly flying past with a -shrill screech like the string of some instrument. You hear the -awful boom of a shot which sends a shock all through you, and -seems most dreadful.</p> - -<p class="i2">'So this is it, the Fourth Bastion! This is that terrible, -truly dreadful spot!' So you think, experiencing a slight feeling -of pride and a strong feeling of suppressed fear. But you -are mistaken; this is still not the Fourth Bastion. This is -only the Yazónovsky Redoubt—comparatively a very safe and -not at all dreadful place. To get to the Fourth Bastion you -must turn to the right, along that narrow trench, where a foot-soldier, -stooping down, has just passed. In this trench you -may again meet men with stretchers, and perhaps a sailor or a -soldier with spades. You will see the mouths of mines, dug-outs -into which only two men can crawl, and there you will see -the Cossacks of the Black Sea Battalions, changing their boots, -eating, smoking their pipes, and, in short, living. And you -will see again the same stinking mud, the traces of camp life, -and cast-iron refuse of every shape and form. When you have -gone some three hundred steps more, you come out at another -battery—a flat space with many holes, surrounded with gabions -filled with earth, and cannons on platforms, and the whole -walled in with earthworks. Here you will perhaps see four or -five soldiers playing cards under shelter of the breastworks; -and a naval officer, noticing that you are a stranger and inquisitive, -is pleased to show you his 'household' and everything -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -that can interest you.... He will tell you (but only if you -ask) about the bombardment on the 5th of October; will tell -you how only one gun in his battery remained usable and only -eight gunners were left of the whole crew, and how, all the -same, next morning, the 6th, he fired all his guns. He will -tell you how a bomb dropped into one of the dug-outs and -knocked over eleven sailors; he will show you from an embrasure -the enemy's batteries and trenches, which are here not -more than seventy-five to eighty-five yards distant. I am afraid, -though, that when you lean out of the embrasure to have a -look at the enemy, you will, under the influence of the whizzing -bullets, not see anything; but if you do see anything, you will -be much surprised to find that this whitish stone wall which is -so near you, and from which puffs of white smoke keep bursting—that -this white wall is the enemy: is <i>him</i>, as the soldiers -and sailors say.</p> - -<p class="i2">It is even very likely that the naval officer, from vanity, or -merely for a little recreation, will wish to show you some firing. -'Call the gunner and crew to the cannon'; and fourteen sailors—clattering -their hob-nailed boots on the platform, one putting -his pipe in his pocket, another still chewing a rusk—quickly -and cheerfully man the gun and begin loading.</p> - -<p class="i2">Suddenly the most fearful roar strikes not only your ears -but your whole being, and makes you shudder all over. It is -followed by the whistle of the departing ball, and a thick cloud -of powder-smoke envelops you, the platform, and the moving -black figures of the sailors. You will hear various comments -by the sailors concerning this shot of ours, and you will notice -their animation, the evidences of a feeling which you had not -perhaps expected: the feeling of animosity and thirst for -vengeance which lies hidden in each man's soul. You will -hear joyful exclamations: 'It's gone right into the embrasure! -It's killed two, I think.... There, they're carrying them -off!' 'And now <i>he's</i> riled, and will send one this way,' some -one remarks; and really, soon after, you will see before you a -flash and some smoke; the sentinel standing on the breastwork -will call out 'Ca-n-non,' and then a ball will whiz past you and -squash into the earth, throwing out a circle of stones and mud. -The commander of the battery will be irritated by this shot -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -and will give orders to fire another and another cannon, the -enemy will reply in like manner, and you will experience interesting -sensations and see interesting sights. The sentinel will -again call 'Cannon!' and you will have the same sound and -shock, and the mud will be splashed round as before. Or he -will call out 'Mortar!' and you will hear the regular and rather -pleasant whistle—which it is difficult to connect with the -thought of anything dreadful—of a bomb; you will hear this -whistle coming nearer and faster towards you, then you will -see a black ball, feel the shock as it strikes the ground, and -will hear the ringing explosion. The bomb will fly apart into -whizzing and shrieking fragments, stones will rattle into the -air, and you will be bespattered with mud.</p> - -<p class="i2">At these sounds you will experience a strange feeling of -mingled pleasure and fear. At the moment you know the shot -is flying towards you, you are sure to imagine that this shot will -kill you, but a feeling of pride will support you and no one will -know of the knife that is cutting your heart. But when the -shot has flown past and has not hit you, you revive, and, though -only for a moment, a glad, inexpressibly joyous feeling seizes -you, so that you feel some peculiar delight in the danger—in -this game of life and death—and wish that bombs and balls -would fall nearer and nearer to you.</p> - -<p class="i2">But again the sentinel, in his loud, thick voice, shouts -'Mortar!' again a whistle, a fall, an explosion; and mingled -with the last you are startled by the groans of a man. You -approach the wounded man just as the stretchers are brought. -Covered with blood and dirt he presents a strange, not human, -appearance. Part of the sailor's breast has been torn away....</p> - -<p class="i2">'That's the way with seven or eight every day,' the naval -officer remarks to you, answering the look of horror on your -face, and he yawns as he rolls another yellow cigarette.</p> - -<p>As the siege progressed, things became worse, and in -the last part of <i>Sevastopol</i> Tolstoy, after telling how one -of the characters felt satisfied with himself, continues:</p> - -<p class="i2">This feeling, however, was quickly shaken by a sight he came -upon in the twilight while looking for the Commander of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -bastion. Four sailors stood by the breastwork holding by its -arms and legs the bloody corpse of a man without boots or coat, -swinging it before heaving it over. (It was found impossible in -some parts to clear away the corpses from the bastions, and -they were, therefore, thrown out into the ditch, so as not to -be in the way at the batteries.) Volódya felt stunned for a -moment when he saw the body bump on the top of the breastwork -and then roll down into the ditch, but luckily for him -the Commander of the bastion met him just then and gave him -his orders, as well as a guide to show him the way to the -battery and to the bomb-proof assigned to his men. We will -not speak of all the dangers and disenchantments our hero -lived through that evening; how—instead of the firing he was -used to, amid conditions of perfect exactitude and order which -he had expected to meet with here also,—he found two injured -mortars, one with its mouth battered in by a ball, the other -standing on the splinters of its shattered platform; how he -could not get workmen to mend the platform till the morning; -how not a single charge was of the weight specified in the -Handbook; how two of the men under him were wounded, -and how he was twenty times within a hair's-breadth of death. -Fortunately a gigantic gunner, a seaman who had served with -the mortars since the commencement of the siege, had been -appointed to assist Volódya, and convinced him of the possibility -of using the mortars. By the light of a lantern, this -gunner showed him all over the battery as he might have -shown him over his own kitchen-garden, and undertook to have -everything right by the morning. The bomb-proof to which -his guide led him was an oblong hole dug in the rocky ground, -25 cubic yards in size and covered with oak beams nearly 2-1/2 -feet thick. He and all his soldiers installed themselves in it.</p> - -<p>It was during one of his sojourns in the Fourth Bastion, -that Tolstoy noted down in his Diary the following -prayer:</p> - -<p class="i2">Lord, I thank Thee for Thy continual protection. How -surely Thou leadest me to what is good. What an insignificant -creature should I be, if Thou abandoned me! Leave me not, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -Lord; give me what is necessary, not for the satisfaction of my -poor aspirations, but that I may attain to the eternal, vast, unknown -aim of existence, which lies beyond my ken.</p> - -<p>It was due to Tolstoy's own choice that he was exposed -to the rough life of the bastion, for Prince Gortchakóf, at -whose house he was a constant visitor, had offered him an -appointment on his staff. This offer, which at Silistria he -had so ardently desired, Tolstoy declined, having come to -the conclusion, subsequently expressed in his writings, that -the influence exercised by the staff on the conduct of a war -is always pernicious! This opinion not only influenced his -conduct, and expressed itself in his novels, but fitted into a -general view of life he ultimately arrived at, a view the -consequences of which must be dealt with in the sequel to -this work. For the moment, let it suffice to mention that -whereas he shows a keen appreciation of Admiral Kornílof's -achievement in rousing the spirit of the garrison, he nowhere -praises Todleben's achievement in organising the defence -of the town and improvising that 'labyrinth of batteries' -in which Tolstoy used constantly to lose his way. He -says, for instance:</p> - -<p class="i2">Now you have seen the defenders of Sevastopol.... The -principal, joyous thought you have brought away is a conviction -of the strength of the Russian people; and this conviction you -gained, not by looking at all these traverses, breastworks, -cunningly interlaced trenches, mines and cannon, one on top -of another, of which you could make nothing; but from -the eyes, words and actions—in short, from seeing what is called -the 'spirit' of the defenders of Sevastopol.</p> - -<p>To everything a man can do off his own bat and by his -own effort, Tolstoy is keenly alive and sympathetic; but -when it comes to a complex, co-ordinated plan, involving -the subordination of many parts to one whole, he is -suspicious or even hostile. Had he remained a subordinate -officer, or even a novelist, it would not have been specially -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -necessary to draw attention to this peculiarity; but that -we may understand his later teachings, it is important to -note all the roots of feeling from which they grew, and -this one among the rest.</p> - -<p>To get on however with our tale. One evening, while -Tolstoy was sitting with the adjutants of Count Osten-Sáken, -Commander of the Garrison, Prince S. S. Ouroúsof, -a brave officer and first-rate chess player (he took part in -the International Chess Tournament of 1862, in London) -and a friend of Tolstoy's, entered the room and wished to -speak to the General. An adjutant took him to Osten-Sáken's -room, and ten minutes later Ouroúsof passed out -again, looking very glum. After he had gone, the adjutant -explained that Ouroúsof had come to suggest that a challenge -should be sent to the English to play a game of -chess for the foremost trench in front of the Fifth Bastion: -a trench that had changed hands several times and had -already cost some hundreds of lives. Osten-Sáken had -naturally refused to issue the challenge.</p> - -<p>On 16th August Tolstoy took part in the battle of the -Tchérnaya (Black River) in which the Sardinian contingent, -which had arrived in May to reinforce the Allies, much distinguished -itself. This last attempt to relieve Sevastopol -failed, as its forerunners had done. Three days later -Tolstoy wrote to his brother saying that he had not been -hurt, and that 'I did nothing, as my mountain artillery -was not called on to fire.'</p> - -<p>The end of the siege was now approaching, and on 8th -September Tolstoy, having volunteered for service in Sevastopol, -reached the Star Fort on the North Side of the Roadstead -just in time to witness the capture of the Maláhof by -the French, as he has described in <i>Sevastopol in August</i>.<a name="FNanchor_21" id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></p> - -<p class="i2">On the North Side of the Roadstead, at the Star Fort, near -noon, two sailors stood on the 'telegraph' mound; one of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -them, an officer, was looking at Sevastopol through the fixed -telescope. Another officer, accompanied by a Cossack, had -just ridden up to join him at the big Signal-post.... Along -the whole line of fortifications, but especially on the high -ground on the left side, appeared, several at a time, with -lightnings that at times flashed bright even in the noonday -sun, puffs of thick, dense, white smoke, that grew, taking -various shapes and appearing darker against the sky. These -clouds, showing now here now there, appeared on the hills, -on the enemy's batteries, in the town, and high up in the sky. -The reports of explosions never ceased, but rolled together and -rent the air.</p> - -<p class="i2">Towards noon the puffs appeared more and more rarely, and -the air vibrated less with the booming.</p> - -<p class="i2">'I say, the Second Bastion does not reply at all now!' said -the officer on horseback; 'it is quite knocked to pieces. -Terrible!'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Yes, and the Maláhof, too, sends hardly one shot in reply to -three of theirs,' said he who was looking through the telescope. -'Their silence provokes me! They are shooting straight into -the Kornílof Battery, and it does not reply.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'But look there! I told you that they always cease the -bombardment about noon. It's the same to-day. Come, let's -go to lunch; they'll be waiting for us already. What's the -good of looking?'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Wait a bit!' answered the one who had possession of the -telescope, looking very eagerly towards Sevastopol.</p> - -<p class="i2">'What is it? What?'</p> - -<p class="i2">'A movement in the entrenchments, thick columns advancing.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Yes! They can be seen even without a glass, marching in -columns. The alarm must be given,' said the seaman.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Look! look! They've left the trenches!'</p> - -<p class="i2">And, really, with the naked eye one could see what looked -like dark spots moving down the hill from the French batteries -across the valley to the bastions. In front of these spots dark -stripes were already visibly approaching our line. On the -bastions white cloudlets burst in succession as if chasing one -another. The wind brought a sound of rapid small-arm firing, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -like the beating of rain against a window. The dark stripes -were moving in the midst of the smoke and came nearer and -nearer. The sounds of firing, growing stronger and stronger, -mingled in a prolonged, rumbling peal. Puffs of smoke rose -more and more often, spread rapidly along the line, and at last -formed one lilac cloud (dotted here and there with little faint -lights and black spots) which kept curling and uncurling; and -all the sounds blent into one tremendous clatter.</p> - -<p class="i2">'An assault!' said the naval officer, turning pale and letting -the seaman look through the telescope.</p> - -<p class="i2">Cossacks galloped along the road, some officers rode by, the -Commander-in-Chief passed in a carriage with his suite. Every -face showed painful excitement and expectation.</p> - -<p class="i2">'It's impossible they can have taken it,' said the mounted -officer.</p> - -<p class="i2">'By God, a standard!... Look! look!' said the other, -panting, and he walked away from the telescope: 'A French -standard on the Maláhof!'</p> - -<p>The point from which the officer in the story, and -Tolstoy himself in reality, watched the assault through a -telescope is the spot marked 'a' on the map on <a href="#Page_112">page 112</a>.</p> - -<p>The loss of the Maláhof rendered the further defence of -the town impossible, and the following night the Russians -blew up and destroyed such munitions of war as they could -not remove from the bastions. Tolstoy was deputed to -clear the Fifth and Sixth Bastions before they were abandoned -to the Allies. When telling me this he added, -'The non-commissioned officers could have done the work -just as well without me.' While the destruction was -proceeding, the Russian forces crossed the Roadstead by -a pontoon bridge which had been constructed during the -siege. The town south of the Roadstead was abandoned, -and the defenders established themselves on the North Side, -where they remained till peace was concluded in February -1856.</p> - -<p>After the retreat, Tolstoy was given the task of collating -the twenty or more reports of the action from the Artillery<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -Commanders. This experience of how war is recorded -produced in him that supreme contempt for detailed -military histories which he so often expressed in later years. -He says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I regret that I did not keep a copy of those reports. They -were an excellent example of that naďve, inevitable kind of -military falsehood, out of which descriptions are compiled. I -think many of those comrades of mine who drew up those -reports, will laugh on reading these lines, remembering how, -by order of their Commander, they wrote what they could -not know.</p> - -<p>Carrying among other despatches the report he had -himself compiled, Tolstoy was sent as Courier to Petersburg; -and this terminated his personal experience of war. -He was still only Sub-Lieutenant, his hopes of promotion -had come to nothing in consequence of a suspicion that he -was the author of some soldiers' songs which were sung -throughout the army at this time. No translation can do -justice to these slangy, topical satires; but that the reader -may have some idea of them, my wife has put into English -the following stanzas:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">In September, the eighth day,<a name="FNanchor_22" id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></div> -<div class="line">From the French we ran away,</div> -<div class="line i2">For our Faith and Tsar!</div> -<div class="line i2">For our Faith and Tsar!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Admiral Alexander,<a name="FNanchor_23" id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> he</div> -<div class="line">Sank our vessels in the sea</div> -<div class="line i2">In the waters deep,</div> -<div class="line i2">In the waters deep.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>'Luck to all I wish,' he said then.</div> -<div class="line">To Baktchiseráy<a name="FNanchor_24" id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> he sped then;</div> -<div class="line i2">'May you all be blowed!</div> -<div class="line i2">'May you all be blowed!'</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Saint Arnaud<a name="FNanchor_25" id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> got out of sight;</div> -<div class="line">And in manner most polite,</div> -<div class="line i2">Came round to our back,</div> -<div class="line i2">Came round to our back.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">And on Tuesday, I'm afraid</div> -<div class="line">Had no saint come to our aid,</div> -<div class="line i2">He'd have bagged us all,</div> -<div class="line i2">He'd have bagged us all.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Our Liprandi, it is true</div> -<div class="line">Captured 'trenchments not a few,</div> -<div class="line i2">But to no avail!</div> -<div class="line i2">But to no avail!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Out of Kishinéf a force</div> -<div class="line">Was expected: Foot and Horse,</div> -<div class="line i2">And at last they came,</div> -<div class="line i2">And at last they came.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Dannenberg was in command:</div> -<div class="line">Strictly told to understand</div> -<div class="line i2">Not to spare his men,</div> -<div class="line i2">Not to spare his men.</div> -<hr class="tb" /> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Two Grand Dukes a visit paid:</div> -<div class="line">But the French, quite undismayed,</div> -<div class="line i2">Blazed away with shells,</div> -<div class="line i2">Blazed away with shells.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>Some ten thousand men were shot:</div> -<div class="line">From the Tsar <i>they</i> never got</div> -<div class="line i2">Any great reward!</div> -<div class="line i2">Any great reward!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Then the Prince<a name="FNanchor_26" id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> in anger spoke:</div> -<div class="line">'Oh! our men are wretched folk:</div> -<div class="line i2">'Why, they've turned their backs!</div> -<div class="line i2">'Why, they've turned their backs!'</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">And in this great battle's flare</div> -<div class="line">Heroes only two there were:</div> -<div class="line i2">The two Royal Dukes!</div> -<div class="line i2">The two Royal Dukes!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">George's Crosses they were given</div> -<div class="line">And to Petersburg were driven</div> -<div class="line i2">To be fęted there!</div> -<div class="line i2">To be fęted there!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">All the priests with heads bent down</div> -<div class="line">Prayed our God the French to drown,</div> -<div class="line i2">And there came a storm,</div> -<div class="line i2">And there came a storm!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">There arose a dreadful gale,</div> -<div class="line">But the French just shortened sail,</div> -<div class="line i2">And remained afloat!</div> -<div class="line i2">And remained afloat!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Winter came. Sorties we made;</div> -<div class="line">Many soldiers low were laid,</div> -<div class="line i2">Near those bags of sand,</div> -<div class="line i2">Near those bags of sand.<a name="FNanchor_27" id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>For re'nforcements Ménshik prayed;</div> -<div class="line">But the Tsar sent to his aid</div> -<div class="line i2">Only Osten-Sáken,</div> -<div class="line i2">Only Osten-Sáken.<a name="FNanchor_28" id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Ménshik, Admiral so wise,</div> -<div class="line">To the Tsar writes and replies:</div> -<div class="line i2">'Oh, dear Father Tsar,</div> -<div class="line i2">'Oh, dear Father Tsar.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">'Sáken is not worth a grain,</div> -<div class="line">And your Royal youngsters twain<a name="FNanchor_29" id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></div> -<div class="line i2">They're no good at all!</div> -<div class="line i2">They're no good at all!'</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Royal wrath on Ménshik fell,</div> -<div class="line">And the Tsar felt quite unwell</div> -<div class="line i2">At the next review,</div> -<div class="line i2">At the next review.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Straight to heaven he did fare</div> -<div class="line">(Seems they wanted him up there)</div> -<div class="line i2">Not a whit too soon,</div> -<div class="line i2">Not a whit too soon!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">As on his deathbed he lay;</div> -<div class="line">To his son<a name="FNanchor_30" id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> he this did say:</div> -<div class="line i2">'Now just you look out,</div> -<div class="line i2">'Now just you look out!'</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">And the son to Ménshik wrote:</div> -<div class="line">'My dear Admiral, please note,</div> -<div class="line i2">You may go to hell,</div> -<div class="line i2">You may go to hell!'</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>'And in place of you I'll name</div> -<div class="line">Gortchakóf, you know, the same</div> -<div class="line i2">Who fought 'gainst the Turks!</div> -<div class="line i2">Who fought 'gainst the Turks!'</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">'With few troops he'll go ahead,</div> -<div class="line">And a pair of breeches red</div> -<div class="line i2">Shall be his reward,</div> -<div class="line i2">Shall be his reward!'</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>As a matter of fact the responsibility for these songs, -which gave satirical expression to the discontent then very -generally felt, was not entirely Tolstoy's. They originated -with a group of officers on the staff of Kryzhanóvsky, Commander -of the Artillery, and some others (including Tolstoy) -who used to meet at Kryzhanóvsky's rooms almost daily. -One of this company used to preside at the piano, while -the others stood round and improvised couplets. In such -cases some one has usually to pay the piper, and that this -one should have been Tolstoy, was a natural result both -of the fact that he seems to have been the chief culprit, -and of the attention his literary work was attracting at -this time.</p> - -<p>Another matter which appears to have done Tolstoy no -good in the eyes of his superiors, was his refusal to fall in -with a reprehensible practice which by long usage had -become as well established as, for instance, among ourselves, -is the purchase of peerages by contributions to -Party funds.</p> - -<p>Those in command of various divisions of the army, -including the Commanders of Batteries, used to pay for -various things, such as shoes for the horses, medicine, office -expenses, and certain extras for the soldiers, for which no -official allowance was made; and the way the money for -this was obtained was by overestimating the cost and -quantity of stores, and of the fodder required for the -horses. The difference between the actual and estimated -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -cost supplied a revenue which different Commanders used -in different ways. Some spent it all for the good of the -service, though in a manner not shown in the accounts; -others did not scruple to make private profit of it. -Tolstoy, during his command of a battery, refused to -take a balance of cash which had accumulated, and insisted -on showing it in the accounts. He thereby evoked the -displeasure of less scrupulous Commanders and called down -upon himself a rebuke from General Kryzhanóvsky, who did -not consider that it lay with a Sub-Lieutenant in temporary -command, to attempt to upset so well-established a custom. -From his letters and memoirs we get clear indications of -Tolstoy's feelings towards his brother officers; his distaste -for the common run of them, and his preference for those -who were gentlemanly. Here and there, in memoirs and -magazine articles, one finds records of the impression he -in his turn produced on his companions. One of them -relates:</p> - -<p class="i2">How Tolstoy woke us all up in those hard times of war, with -his stories and his hastily composed couplets! He was really -the soul of our battery. When he was with us we did not -notice how time flew, and there was no end to the general -gaiety.... When the Count was away, when he trotted off to -Simferópol, we all hung our heads. He would vanish for one, -two or three days.... At last he would return—the very -picture of a prodigal son! sombre, worn out, and dissatisfied -with himself.... Then he would take me aside, quite apart, -and would begin his confessions. He would tell me all: how -he had caroused, gambled, and where he had spent his days and -nights; and all the time, if you will believe me, he would condemn -himself and suffer as though he were a real criminal. -He was so distressed that it was pitiful to see him. That's the -sort of man he was. In a word, a queer fellow, and, to tell the -truth, one I could not quite understand. He was however a -rare comrade, a most honourable fellow, and a man one can -never forget!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -One who entered the battery just after Tolstoy left it, -says he was remembered there as an excellent rider, first-rate -company, and an athlete who, lying on the floor, could -let a man weighing thirteen stone be placed on his hands, -and could lift him up by straightening his arms. At a -tug-of-war (played not with a rope, but with a stick) no -one could beat him; and he left behind him the recollection -of many witty anecdotes told in that masterly style of -which he never lost the knack.</p> - -<p>His private Diary bears witness to the constantly renewed -struggle that went on within him, as well as to his profound -dissatisfaction with himself. Here, for instance, is an estimate -entered in his Diary at the commencement of the war, -while he was still at Silistria:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have no modesty. That is my great defect. What am I? -One of four sons of a retired lieutenant-colonel, left at seven -years of age an orphan under the guardianship of women and -strangers; having neither a social nor a scholarly education, -and becoming my own master at seventeen; with no large -means, no social position, and, above all, without principle; -a man who has disorganised his own affairs to the last extremity, -and has passed the best years of his life without aim -or pleasure; and finally who having banished himself to the -Caucasus to escape his debts and more especially his bad habits—and -having there availed himself of some connection that had -existed between his father and the general in command—passed -to the army of the Danube at twenty-six, as a Sub-Lieutenant -almost without means except his pay (for what means he has he -ought to employ to pay what he still owes) without influential -friends, ignorant of how to live in society, ignorant of the -service, lacking practical capacity, but with immense self-esteem—such -is my social position. Let us see what I myself -am like.</p> - -<p class="i2">I am ugly, awkward, uncleanly, and lack society education. -I am irritable, a bore to others, not modest, intolerant, and as -shame-faced as a child. I am almost an ignoramus. What I do -know, I have learned anyhow, by myself, in snatches, without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -sequence, without a plan, and it amounts to very little. I am -incontinent, undecided, inconstant and stupidly vain and vehement, -like all characterless people. I am not brave. I am not -methodical in life, and am so lazy that idleness has become an -almost unconquerable habit of mine.</p> - -<p class="i2">I am clever, but my cleverness has as yet not been thoroughly -tested on anything; I have neither practical nor social nor -business ability.</p> - -<p class="i2">I am honest, that is to say, I love goodness, and have formed -a habit of loving it, and when I swerve from it I am dissatisfied -with myself and return to it gladly; but there is a thing I love -more than goodness, and that is fame. I am so ambitious, and -so little has this feeling been gratified, that should I have to -choose between fame and goodness, I fear I may often choose -the former.</p> - -<p class="i2">Yes, I am not modest, and therefore I am proud at heart, -though shame-faced and shy in society.</p> - -<p>That is a grossly unfair estimate of himself, but shows -just that sort of eager injustice to any one who fails to -reach the high standard he sets up, that has always -characterised him. His account is inaccurate in details. -For instance, he was not seven, but nearly nine when his -father died. He had not wrecked his affairs to the extent -he suggests. Though his studies had been desultory, he -had read widely, with a quick understanding and a retentive -memory. He was master of the Russian, French -and German languages, besides having some knowledge of -English, Latin, Arabic, and Turco-Tartar. (Later in life -he added a knowledge of Italian, Greek and Hebrew.) As -for not yet having tested his cleverness: he had published -stories for which the editor of the best Russian magazine -paid him the rate accorded to the best-known writers; -while his awkwardness in society did not depend on ignorance; -on the contrary, he had grown up among people who -paid much attention to manners, and he was himself gifted -with social tact, which became plainly apparent as soon as -he attained self-confidence. Any defect in his manners<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -must have been merely a result of that nervous shyness -natural to highly-strung, sensitive natures, conscious of -powers of a kind society recognises but scantily. Yet, when -all is said, his description gets home: over-emphatic and -unfair, like much of his other writing, it still leaves you in -no doubt as to what he meant, and hits the real points of -weakness in the victim he is flaying.</p> - -<p>On 5th March 1855 (old style) when he was just -recovering from that fit of depression at Belbék which, as -already mentioned, drove him to gamble, he writes in his -Diary:</p> - -<p class="i2">A conversation about Divinity and Faith has suggested to me -a great, a stupendous idea, to the realisation of which I feel -myself capable of devoting my life. This idea is the founding -of a new religion corresponding to the present state of mankind: -the religion of Christianity, but purged of dogmas and -mysticism: a practical religion, not promising future bliss, but -giving bliss on earth. I understand that to accomplish this -the conscious labour of generations will be needed. One -generation will bequeath the idea to the next, and some day -fanaticism or reason will accomplish it. <i>Deliberately</i> to promote -the union of mankind by religion—that is the basic thought -which, I hope, will dominate me.</p> - -<p>In that passage one has, quite clearly stated before he -was twenty-seven, the main idea which actuated Tolstoy -from the age of fifty onwards. Already by the literary -work he accomplished amid the bustle and excitement of -the siege, he was half consciously moving in the direction -that allured him. During the three months that elapsed -between leaving Bucharest and reaching Sevastopol, he -wrote part of <i>The Wood-Felling</i>; a sketch of an expedition -such as he had taken part in the Caucasus; and during -the siege of Sevastopol he wrote the first two parts of -<i>Sevastopol</i> and began <i>Youth</i>, a sequel to <i>Childhood</i> and -<i>Boyhood</i>.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>1855</h3> - -<p>It was <i>Sevastopol</i> that first brought European fame -to Tolstoy. When, as already mentioned, <i>Sevastopol in -December</i> appeared in the June <i>Contemporary</i>, -the Emperor ordered it to be translated into -French. That same month Tolstoy completed and despatched -<i>The Wood-Felling</i>; in July he sent off <i>Sevastopol in -May</i>. Here once again the Censor exercised his malignant -power, and Panáef wrote to Tolstoy from Petersburg:</p> - -<p class="i2">In my letter delivered to you by Stolýpin, I wrote that your -article has been passed by the Censor with unimportant alterations, -and begged you not to be angry with me that I was -obliged to add a few words at the end to soften.... 3000 -copies of the article had already been printed off, when the -Censor suddenly demanded it back, stopped the appearance of -the number (so that our August number only appeared in -Petersburg on 18 August) and submitted it to Poúshkin, President -of the Committee of Censors. If you know Poúshkin, you -will be able partly to guess what followed. He flew into a rage, -was very angry with the Censor, and with me for submitting -such an article to the Censor, and altered it with his own hand.... -On seeing these alterations I was horror-struck, and wished -not to print the article at all, but Poúshkin explained to me -that I must print it in its present shape. There was no help -for it, and your mutilated article will appear in the September -number, but without your initials—which I could not bear to -see attached to it after that....</p> - -<p class="i2">Now a word as to the impression your story produces on all -to whom I have read it in its original form. Every one thinks -it stronger than the first part, in its deep and delicate analysis -of the emotions and feelings of people constantly face to face -with death, and in the fidelity with which the types of the line-officers -are caught, their encounters with the aristocrats, and -the mutual relations of the two sets. In short, all is excellent, -all is drawn in masterly fashion; but it is all so overspread with -bitterness, is so keen, so venomous, so unsparing and so cheerless, -that at the present moment when the scene of the story -is almost sacred ground, it pains those who are at a distance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -from it; and the story may even produce a very unpleasant -impression.</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>The Wood-Felling</i>, with its dedication to Tourgénef, will also -appear in September (Tourgénef begs me to thank you very, very -much for thinking of him and paying him this attention).... -In this story also (which passed three Censors: the Caucasian, -the Military, and our Civil Censor) the types of officers have -been tampered with, and unfortunately a little has been -struck out.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's dedication of <i>The Wood-Felling</i> to Tourgénef -proceeded from his admiration for that writer's <i>A Sportsman's -Sketches</i>, which to the present time he continues to -value very highly, considering Tourgénef's descriptions of -Nature in that book not merely excellent, but inimitable by -any one else.</p> - -<p>Nekrásof wrote to Tolstoy in September, about <i>Sevastopol -in August</i>, saying:</p> - -<p class="i2">The revolting mutilation of your article quite upset me. -Even now I cannot think of it without regret and rage. Your -work will, of course, not be lost ... it will always remain as -proof of a strength able to utter such profound and sober truth -under circumstances amid which few men would have retained -it. It is just what Russian society now needs: the truth—the -truth, of which, since Gógol's death, so little has remained in -Russian literature. You are right to value that side of your -gifts most of all. Truth—in such form as you have introduced -it into our literature—is something completely new among us. -I do not know another writer of to-day who so compels the -reader to love him and sympathise heartily with him, as he to -whom I now write; and I only fear lest time, the nastiness of -life, and the deafness and dumbness that surround us, should -do to you what it has done to most of us, and kill the energy -without which there can be no writer—none, at least, such as -Russia needs. You are young: changes are taking place -which, let us hope, may end well, and perhaps a wide -field lies before you. You are beginning in a way that -compels the most cautious to let their expectations travel -far....</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -<i>The Wood-Felling</i> has passed the Censor pretty fairly, -though from it also some valuable touches have disappeared. -...In that sketch there are many astonishingly acute -remarks, and it is all <i>new</i>, interesting, and to the point. -Do not neglect such sketches. Of the common soldier our -literature has as yet not spoken, except frivolously.</p> - -<p>Tourgénef, writing from his estate at Spássky to -Panáef, said:</p> - -<p class="i2">Tolstoy's article about Sevastopol is wonderful! Tears came -into my eyes as I read it, and I shouted, Hurrah! I am greatly -flattered by his wish to dedicate his new tale to me.... Here -his article has produced a general furore.</p> - -<p>By the side of these contemporary estimates one may -set Kropótkin's appreciation written fifty years later:</p> - -<p class="i2">All his powers of observation and war-psychology, all his deep -comprehension of the Russian soldier, and especially of the -plain un-theatrical hero who really wins the battles, and a profound -understanding of that inner spirit of an army upon which -depend success and failure: everything, in short, which developed -into the beauty and the truthfulness of <i>War and Peace</i>, -was already manifested in these sketches, which undoubtedly -represented a new departure in war-literature the world over.</p> - -<p>It is worth while to note the very different conclusions -to which Kinglake, the historian of this war, and Tolstoy, -its novelist, arrived. Kinglake holds the war to have been -unnecessary, and attributes it chiefly to the unscrupulous -ambition of Napoleon III; yet he blames the Peace Party -very severely for protesting against it, for had they not -done so Nicholas, he thinks, would not have dared to act -aggressively. Kinglake feels that negotiations between -rulers and diplomatists are important, and that anything -that prevents a Government from speaking with authority, -makes for confusion and disaster.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy, on the other hand (if I may anticipate and -speak of conclusions not definitely expressed by him till -much later), regards all war and preparation for war as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -immoral, and wishes this conviction to become so strong -and so general that it will be impossible for any future -Napoleon to plunge five nations into war to gratify his -own ambition.</p> - -<p>Kinglake understands things as they are, and knows -how easy it is to do harm with good intentions, but is -somewhat blind to the trend of human progress, and as -to what the aim before us should be. Tolstoy, on the -contrary, is chiefly concerned about the ultimate aim, and -about the state of mind of the individual. The actual -working of our political system and international relations -are things he ignores. The English writer sees clearly -what is, and cares little about what should be; the -Russian writer cares immensely about what should be, and -rather forgets that it can only be approached by slow and -difficult steps, to take which surefootedly, needs an -appreciation of things as they are.</p> - -<p>Neither of them manages to say the word which would -synthesize their divergent views: namely, that no self-respecting -people should support or tolerate as rulers, -men who seek to gain national advantages by means not -strictly fair, honest and even generous. That is the real -key to the world's future peace. Kinglake's appeal to us -not to hamper the government that represents us, and -Tolstoy's appeal to us not to spend our lives in preparing -to slay our fellow men, can both be met in that way, and, -I think, in that way alone.</p> - -<p>For an ambitious young officer actually engaged in a -war, related to the Commander-in-Chief, and favourably -noticed by the Emperor, even <i>partially</i> to express disapproval -of war, was difficult; and Tolstoy has told me -that, contending with his desire to tell the truth about things -as he saw it, he was at the same time aware of another -feeling prompting him to say what was expected of him.</p> - -<p>He, however, like the child in Andersen's story who sees -that the king has nothing on, when every one else is in -ecstasies over the magnificence of the monarch's robes, had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -the gift of seeing things with his own eyes, as well as a -great gift of truthfulness. These were the qualities which -ultimately made him the greatest literary power of his -century; and in spite of his own hesitation and the -Censor's mutilations, we may still read the description he -then wrote of the truce in which the French and Russian -soldiers hobnobbed together in friendship, a description -closing with these words:</p> - -<p class="i2">White flags are on the bastions and parallels; the flowery -valley is covered with corpses; the beautiful sun is sinking -towards the blue sea; and the undulating blue sea glitters in -the golden rays of the sun. Thousands of people crowd together, -look at, speak to, and smile at one another. And these -people—Christians confessing the one great law of love and -self-sacrifice—seeing what they have done, do not at once fall -repentant on their knees before Him who has given them life -and laid in the soul of each a fear of death and a love of goodness -and of beauty, and do not embrace like brothers with tears -of joy and happiness.</p> - -<p class="i2">The white flags are lowered, again the engines of death and -suffering are sounding, again innocent blood flows, and the air -is filled with moans and curses.</p> - -<p>In <i>Sevastopol</i>, and in Tennyson's <i>Charge of the Light -Brigade</i> (with its rhymes about 'hundred' and 'thundered,' -and its panegyric of those who knew it was not -their business to think, and at whom 'all the world -wondered'), we have two typical expressions of conflicting -views on war: the view of a man who knew it from the -classics and was Poet Laureate, and the view of a man who -was in the thick of it, and whose eyes were connected with -his brain.</p> - -<p>Thirty-four years later Tolstoy wrote a Preface to a -fellow-officer's <i>Recollections of Sevastopol</i>. It could not -pass the Censor, but has been used as a Preface to his -own sketches of war in the English version of <i>Sevastopol</i>, -translated by my wife and myself, and I cannot conclude -this chapter better than by quoting a few sentences from it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -Speaking of the position of a young officer engaged in -the Crimean war, he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">To the first question that suggests itself to every one, Why did -he do it? Why did he not cease, and go away?—the author -does not reply. He does not say, as men said in olden times -when they hated their enemies as the Jews hated the Philistines, -that he hated the Allies; on the contrary, he here and -there shows his sympathy for them as for brother men.</p> - -<p class="i2">Nor does he speak of any passionate desire that the keys of -the Church at Jerusalem should be in our hands, or even that -our fleet should, or should not, exist. You feel as you read, that -to him the life and death of men are not commensurable with -questions of politics. And the reader feels that to the question: -Why did the author act as he did?—there is only one answer; -It was because I enlisted while still young, or before the war -began, or because owing to inexperience I chanced to slip into -a position from which I could not extricate myself without -great effort. I was entrapped into that position, and when -they obliged me to do the most unnatural actions in the world, -to kill my brother men who had done me no harm, I preferred -to do this rather than to suffer punishment and disgrace.... -One feels that the author knows there is a law of God: love -thy neighbour, and therefore do not kill him,—a law which -cannot be repealed by any human artifice.</p> - -<p class="i2">The merit of the book consists in that. It is a pity it is only -felt, and not plainly and clearly expressed. Sufferings and -deaths are described; but we are not told what caused them. -Thirty-five years ago—even that was well, but now something -more is needed. We should be told what it is that causes -soldiers to suffer and to die,—that we may know, and understand, -and destroy these causes.</p> - -<p class="i2">'War! How terrible,' people say, 'is war, with its wounds, -bloodshed, and deaths! We must organise a Red Cross Society -to alleviate the wounds, sufferings and pains of death.' But, -truly, what is dreadful in war is not the wounds, sufferings and -deaths. The human race that has always suffered and died, -should by this time be accustomed to suffering and death, and -should not be aghast at them. Without war people die by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -famine, by inundations, and by epidemics. It is not suffering -and death that are terrible, but it is that which allows people to -inflict suffering and death....</p> - -<p class="i2">It is not the suffering and mutilation and death of man's -body that most needs to be diminished,—but it is the mutilation -and death of his soul. Not the <i>Red</i> Cross is needed, -but the simple cross of Christ to destroy falsehood and -deception....</p> - -<p class="i2">I was finishing this Preface when a cadet from the Military -College came to see me. He told me that he was troubled by -religious doubts.... He had read nothing of mine. I spoke -cautiously to him of how to read the Gospels so as to find in -them the answers to life's problems. He listened and agreed. -Towards the end of our conversation I mention wine, and -advised him not to drink. He replied: 'but in military service -it is sometimes necessary.' I thought he meant necessary for -health and strength, and I intended triumphantly to overthrow -him by proofs from experience and science, but he continued: -'Why, at Geok-Tepe, for instance, when Skóbelef had to -massacre the inhabitants, the soldiers did not wish to do it, but -he had drink served out and then....' Here are all the -horrors of war—they are in this lad with his fresh young face, -his little shoulder-straps (under which the ends of his hood are -so neatly tucked), his well-cleaned boots, his naďve eyes, and -with so perverted a conception of life.</p> - -<p class="i2">This is the real horror of war!</p> - -<p class="i2">What millions of Red Cross workers could heal the wounds -that swarm in that remark—the result of a whole system of -education!</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER IV</h3> - -<p>Birukof.</p> - -<p>Behrs.</p> - -<p>Bitovt.</p> - -<p>Nekrasof's letters to Tolstoy, <i>Niva</i>, February 1898.</p> - -<p>Also, Tolstoy's <i>Sevastopol</i>, and his</p> - -<p>Preface to Ershof's <i>Recollections of Sevastopol</i>.</p> - -<p>Kropotkin, <i>Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature</i>: London, 1905.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap5">CHAPTER V<br /> -PETERSBURG; LOVE AFFAIR; DROUZHÍNIN</h2> - -<p class="i2">Petersburg. Tourgénef. The <i>Contemporary</i>. Death of his -brother Demetrius. Drouzhínin. The Behrs. Love affairs. -Engagement with V.V.A. Illness. Leaves the army. Engagement -broken off. Correspondence with Tourgénef. -Writings. Drouzhínin's criticism of <i>Youth</i> and of Tolstoy's -style. Books that influenced him. Emancipation of serfs. -Poúshkin. Self-condemnation in his <i>Confession</i>.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">A number</span> of distinguished writers have recorded their -opinions of the talented young officer who appeared in -Petersburg before the war was quite over, and immediately -entered the fraternity then supporting the -<i>Contemporary</i>. From their memoirs one sees what -Tolstoy was like at this, perhaps the stormiest and least -satisfactory period of his life.</p> - -<p>The <i>Contemporary</i> was a monthly review founded by -Poúshkin and Pletnéf in 1836. It passed in 1847 to -Panáef and the poet Nekrásof, and when Tolstoy began to -write, was recognised as the leading and most progressive -Russian literary periodical. Its chief contributors formed -an intimate group, united by close personal acquaintance, -by sympathy with the Emancipation movement then -making itself felt, and also by a common agreement (not -it is true very strictly or very permanently observed) to -write exclusively for the <i>Contemporary</i>. The point to be -noticed is that the circle Tolstoy entered consisted of a -friendly, sociable group of people who considered themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -ardent reformers; and that though Tolstoy's talent and -his wish to have his works published, threw him and them -together, he never appears to have had the least inclination -to co-operate on that footing of mutual give-and-take -toleration which is so essential in public life. Certainly -he never became friendly with the more advanced men, -Tchernyshévsky, Miháylof, and the ultra-democratic Dobrolúbof, -who were intent on spreading democratic and -socialistic ideas in Russia.</p> - -<p>It has been suggested that this was due to the fact -that he was an aristocrat and that they were democrats; -but one has to go deeper than that for the explanation, -which lies, to a considerable extent, in the fact that the -advanced Russian Radicals were, for the most part, -admirers of Governmental Jacobinism, whereas Tolstoy -has from the very start tended to be a No-Government -man, an Anarchist, and has objected to linking himself -closely with any group, since such alliance always implies -some amount of compromise, and some subordination of -one's own opinions.</p> - -<p>The poet Fet, himself a young officer, made Tolstoy's -acquaintance at this time. A couple of years later he -purchased an estate at no very great distance from Yásnaya -Polyána, and became a friend of Tolstoy's—one in fact -of the very few people, not of his own family, with whom -the latter ever formed a close personal friendship.</p> - - -<h3>1855</h3> - -<p>His first acquaintance with Tolstoy was however hardly -auspicious. Calling on Tourgénef in St. Petersburg -at ten o'clock one morning, he saw an officer's -sword hanging in the hall, and asked the man-servant -whose it was. 'It's Count Tolstoy's sword,' replied the -man. 'He is sleeping in the drawing-room. Iván Sergéyevitch -[Tourgénef] is having breakfast in the study.' -During Fet's visit of an hour's duration, he and his host -had to converse in low tones for fear of waking Tolstoy. -'He is like this all the time,' said Tourgénef. 'He came -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -back from his Sevastopol battery; put up here, and is going -the pace. Sprees, gipsy-girls and cards all night long—and -then he sleeps like a corpse till two in the afternoon. -At first I tried to put the break on, but now I've given it -up, and let him do as he likes.'</p> - -<p>Fet tells us that as soon as he met Tolstoy he noticed -his instinctive defiance of all accepted opinions; and at -Nekrásof's lodgings, the first time he saw Tolstoy and -Tourgénef together, he witnessed the desperation to which -the former reduced the latter by his biting retorts.</p> - -<p class="i2">'I can't admit,' said Tolstoy, 'that what you say expresses -your convictions. If I stand at the door with a dagger or a -sword, and say, "While I am alive no one shall enter here," -that shows conviction. But you, here, try to conceal the true -inwardness of your thoughts from one another, and call <i>that</i> -conviction!'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Why do you come here?' squeaked Tourgénef, panting, his -voice rising to a falsetto (as always happened when he was -disputing). 'Your banner is not here! Go! Go to the salon -of Princess B——!'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Why should I ask you, where I am to go? Besides, empty -talk won't become conviction, merely because I am, or am not -here,' replied Tolstoy.</p> - -<p>Though he cared little for politics, Fet's sympathies -inclined to the Conservative side, and he found himself in -accord with Tolstoy rather than with Tourgénef and the -other Contemporarians; but Fet's stay in Petersburg at -this time was a short one, and he therefore saw little -of Tolstoy. D. V. Grigoróvitch, the novelist, however, -reported to him another scene which also occurred at -Nekrásof's lodging.</p> - -<p class="i2">You can't imagine what it was like! Great Heavens! -said Grigoróvitch. Tourgénef squeaked and squeaked, holding -his hand to his throat, and with the eyes of a dying gazelle -whispered: 'I can stand no more! I have bronchitis!' and -began walking to and fro through the three rooms.—'Bronchitis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -is an imaginary illness,' growls Tolstoy after him: 'Bronchitis -is a metal!'</p> - -<p class="i2">Of course Nekrásof's heart sank: he feared to lose either -of these valuable contributors to the <i>Contemporary</i>. We were -all agitated, and at our wits' end to know what to say. -Tolstoy, in the middle room, lay sulking on the morocco sofa; -while Tourgénef, spreading the tails of his short coat and with -his hands in his pockets, strode to and fro through the three -rooms. To avert a catastrophe, I went to the sofa and said, -'Tolstoy, old chap, don't get excited! You don't know how -he esteems and loves you!'</p> - -<p class="i2">'I won't allow him to do anything to spite me!' exclaimed -Tolstoy with dilated nostrils. 'There! Now he keeps marching -past me on purpose, wagging his democratic haunches!'</p> - -<p>The rest of the evidence is of much the same nature. -Of desire to agree, there was hardly a trace in Tolstoy, -who never doubted his own sincerity and seldom credited -that quality to others. The aristocratic influences that -surrounded his upbringing never induced him to be lenient -to men of his own class, such as Tourgénef; but they led -him to judge harshly and unsympathetically new men who -were pushing their way to the front by their own ability. -Fet, in his <i>Mémoires</i>, speaks with regret of the fact that -the educated classes ('the Intelligents') attracted by -Liberal ideas which made for the Emancipation of the -serfs, formed so strong a current of opinion that even the -literature produced by the nobility (and he claims that -the nobles supplied all the truly artistic literature) -advocated changes which struck at the root of the most -fundamental privileges of their class. This tendency, he -tells us, revolted 'Tolstoy's fresh, unwarped instinct.'</p> - -<p>Grigoróvitch, in his <i>Literary Memoirs</i>, tells us that, -knowing how out of sympathy Tolstoy was with Petersburg, -and how evident it was that everything in -Petersburg irritated him, he was surprised to find that -the latter took permanent lodgings there. Grigoróvitch, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -himself a Contemporarian, had met Tolstoy in Moscow, -and coming across him again in Petersburg, and hearing -that he was invited to dine with the staff of the <i>Contemporary</i>, -but did not yet know any of the members -intimately, agreed to accompany him.</p> - -<p class="i2">On the way I warned him to be on his guard about certain -matters, and especially to avoid attacking George Sand, -whom he much disliked, but who was devoutly worshipped by -many Contemporarians. The dinner passed off all right, -Tolstoy being rather quiet at first, but at last he broke out. -Some one praised George Sand's new novel, and he abruptly -declared his hatred of her, adding that the heroines of the -novels she was then writing, if they really existed, ought to be -tied to the hangman's cart and driven through the streets -of Petersburg. He had, adds Grigoróvitch, already then -developed that peculiar view of women and of the woman-question, -which he afterwards expressed so vividly in <i>Anna -Karénina</i>.</p> - -<p>With all the curious convolutions of Tolstoy's character, -there is a remarkable tenacity of conviction running -through his whole life, and a remark in <i>Resurrection</i>, -written nearly half a century later, throws a flood of -light on the fact of his so detesting George Sand's -emancipated heroines while he was himself living a loose life. -In that book, the hero has been attracted as well as repelled -first by Mariette, the General's wife, and then by a handsome -demi-mondaine he passes in the street, and this is -his reflection:</p> - -<p class="i2">The animalism of the brute nature in man is disgusting, -thought he; but as long as it remains in its naked form we -observe it from the height of our spiritual life and despise it; -and, <i>whether one has fallen or resisted</i>, one remains what one was -before. But when that same animalism hides under a cloak of -poetry and esthetic feeling, and demands our worship—then we -are swallowed up by it completely, and worship animalism, no -longer distinguishing good from evil. Then it is awful!</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="p142"><img src="images/p142.jpg" width="550" -height="389" alt="" title="" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<span class="smcap">Prominent Russian Writers, (1856): Tourgénef, Sologoúb, Tolstoy, -Nekrásof, Grigóryef, Panáef.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -Grigoróvitch in another place speaks of Tolstoy's -'readiness to contradict.' It did not matter what opinion -was being expressed; and the more authoritative the -speaker appeared to be, the more eager was Tolstoy to -oppose him and to begin a verbal duel. 'Watching how -he listened to the speaker and pierced him with his eyes, -and noticing how ironically he pressed his lips together, -one conjectured that he was preparing not a direct reply, -but such an expression of opinion as would perplex his -opponent by its unexpectedness.'</p> - -<p>Danílevsky, the novelist, confirms this impression of -Tolstoy's eagerness to oppose. They met at the house of a -well-known sculptor. Tolstoy entered the drawing-room -while a new work of Herzen's was being read aloud, and -quietly took up a position behind the reader's chair. -When the reading was over, he began, at first gently and -with restraint, then hotly and boldly, to attack Herzen -and the enthusiasm then current for his revolutionary and -emancipatory works; and he spoke so convincingly and -with such sincerity, that Danílevsky says he never afterwards -saw one of Herzen's publications in that house.</p> - -<p>Tourgénef once said: 'In Tolstoy the character which -afterwards lay at the base of his whole outlook on life -early made itself manifest. He never believed in people's -sincerity. Every spiritual movement seemed to him false, -and he used to pierce those on whom his suspicion fell -with his extraordinarily penetrating eyes'; and Tourgénef -went on to say that personally he had never encountered -anything more disconcerting than that inquisitorial look, -which, accompanied by two or three biting words, was enough -to goad to fury any man who lacked strong self control.</p> - -<p>The different sides of men's characters do not always -advance simultaneously or harmoniously; and it frequently -happens that those awakening to a sense of public duty -remain self-indulgent in respect to wine or women, while -others become abstainers or respectable husbands while -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -remaining oblivious of the political duties they owe to the -community. Among the reformers whose acquaintance -Tolstoy made in Petersburg, there was unfortunately a -great deal of gluttony, drinking, gambling and loose -living, and Tolstoy—though he was often remorseful and -repentant about his own excesses with wine, women, and -cards—with his innate propensity for demanding <i>all or -nothing</i>, bitterly resented this in others. He would no -doubt have considered it hypocritical had he himself -come forward as a reformer before obtaining mastery over -his own appetites, and he judged others by the same -standard.</p> - -<p>The ill success of the Crimean war had dealt a blow to -the prestige of the Tsardom, and a series of wide-reaching -reforms were being prepared at this time—among which the -most important were the abolition of serfdom, the reform -of civil and criminal law, the introduction of trial by jury -and of oral proceedings in the law courts, the establishment -of a system of Local Government somewhat resembling -our County Councils, and some relaxation of the insensate -severity of the press censorship. But though Tolstoy -reached Petersburg at a moment when Russia was entering -on this hopeful and fruitful period of internal reform, -neither in his published writings nor in any private -utterance we know of, does he express much sympathy -with those reforms, or show any perception of the -advantage that accrues to a nation whose inhabitants -interest themselves in public affairs. He never realised -that even if a people make for themselves bad laws, the -very fact of being invited to think about large practical -matters, and being allowed to test their own conclusions -in practice, fosters a habit of not fearing to think and to -act in accord with one's thought; and that this habit of -applying thought to the guidance of practical affairs, -overflows into a nation's commerce and industry and -agriculture, and ultimately causes the difference between -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -the comparative material security of our Western world -and the chronic fear of famine that oppresses many Eastern -lands.</p> - -<p>But complex problems of public policy—which are -always difficult, and call for patience, tolerant co-operation, -and a willingness to accept half-loaves when whole ones -are unobtainable—never were to Tolstoy's taste. He -hankers after simple, clear-cut solutions, such as are obtainable -only subjectively, in the mind.</p> - -<p>A few years later than the time of which we are speaking, -Tolstoy commenced a novel called <i>The Decembrists</i>, -which begins with a description of these reform years. -The passage shows how scornfully he regarded the whole -movement for the liberation of the people and the -democratisation of their institutions. These are his -words:</p> - -<p class="i2">This happened not long ago, in the reign of Alexander II, -in our times of civilisation, progress, <i>problems</i>, re-birth of Russia, -etc. etc.; the time when the victorious Russian army returned -from Sevastopol which it had surrendered to the enemy; when -all Russia was celebrating the destruction of the Black Sea -fleet; and white-walled Moscow greeted, and congratulated on -that auspicious event, the remainder of the crews of that fleet, -offering them a good old Russian goblet of vódka, and in the -good old Russian way bringing them bread and salt and bowing -at their feet. This was the time when Russia, in the person -of her far-sighted virgin politicians, wept over the destruction -of her dream of a Te Deum in the Cathedral of St. Sophia, and -the deep-felt loss to the fatherland of two great men who had -perished during the war (one who, carried away by impatience -to hear the Te Deum referred to above, had fallen on the fields -of Wallachia, not without leaving there two squadrons of -Hussars; and the other an invaluable man who distributed -tea, other people's money, and sheets, to the wounded -without stealing any of them); in that time when from all -sides, in all departments of human activity in Russia, great -men sprang up like mushrooms: commanders, administrators,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -economists, writers, orators, and simply great men without any -special calling or aim; in that time when at the Jubilee of a -Moscow actor, public opinion, fortified by a toast, appeared and -began to punish all wrongdoers; when stern Commissioners -galloped from Petersburg to the South and captured, exposed, -and punished the commissariat rascals; when in all the towns -dinners with toasts were given to the heroes of Sevastopol, and -to those of them whose arms and legs had been torn off, coppers -were given by those who met them on the bridges or highways; -at that time when oratorical talents were so rapidly developed -among the people that one publican everywhere and on all -occasions wrote, printed, and repeated by heart at dinners, -such powerful speeches that the guardians of order were obliged -to undertake repressive measures to subdue his eloquence; -when even in the English Club in Moscow a special room was -set apart for the consideration of public affairs; when periodicals -appeared under the most varied banners; journals developing -European principles on a European basis but with a Russian -world-conception, and journals on an exclusively Russian basis, -developing Russian principles but with a European world-conception; -when suddenly, so many journals appeared that it seemed -as if all possible titles had been used up: 'The Messenger,' 'The -Word,' 'The Discourse,' 'The Eagle,' and many others; when -nevertheless fresh titles presented themselves continually; at that -time when pleiades of new author-philosophers appeared, proving -that Science is national and is not national and is international, -and so on: and pleiades of writer-artists, who described woods -and sun-rises, and thunders, and the love of a Russian maiden, -and the idleness of one official, and the misconduct of many -officials; at that time when from all sides appeared problems -(as in the year '56 every concourse of circumstances was called -of which nobody could make head or tail); the problem of the -Cadet Schools, the Universities, the Censor, oral tribunals, -finance, the banks, the police, the Emancipation, and many -others; everybody still tried to discover new questions, and -everybody tried to solve them; they wrote, and read, and -talked, and drew up projects, and all wished to amend, destroy -and alter, and all Russians, as one man, were in an indescribable -state of enthusiasm. That was a condition which has -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -occurred twice in Russia in the nineteenth century: the first -time was in the year '12 when we thrashed Napoleon I, and -the second time was in '56 when Napoleon III thrashed us. -Great, unforgettable epoch of the re-birth of the Russian -people! Like the Frenchman who said that he had not lived -at all who had not lived during the Great French Revolution, -so I make bold to say that he who did not live in Russia in '56, -does not know what life is. The writer of these lines not -merely lived at that time, but was one of the workers of that -period. Not merely did he personally sit for some weeks in -one of the casemates of Sevastopol, but he wrote a work about -the Crimean War which brought him great fame, and in which -he clearly and minutely described how the soldiers in the -bastion fired off their muskets, how in the hospitals people were -bound up with bandages, and how in the cemetery they were -buried in the earth.</p> - -<p class="i2">Having performed these exploits, the writer of these lines -arrived at the heart of the Empire, at a rocket-station, where -he reaped his laurels. He witnessed the enthusiasm of both -capitals and of the whole people, and experienced in his own -person how Russia can reward real service. The great ones -of the earth sought his acquaintance, pressed his hands, offered -him dinners, persistently invited him to come and see them, -and in order to hear from him particulars about the war, -narrated to him their own sensations. Therefore the writer of -these lines knows how to appreciate that great and memorable -time. But that is not what I want to tell about.</p> - -<p>The very day he reached Petersburg from Sevastopol, in -September 1855, Tolstoy called on Tourgénef, who pressed -him to stay with him and introduced him to all that was -most interesting in Petersburg literary and artistic circles, -watching over his interests 'like an old nurse,' as Tourgénef -himself once expressed it. Tourgénef fully appreciated -Tolstoy's artistic genius, but was strangely blind to the -specially Tolstoyan side of Tolstoy's complex nature. As -we have already seen, friction soon arose between the two -men, and though they again and again made friends, their -friendship was very unstable and easily upset.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>1856</h3> - -<p>Early in 1856 Tolstoy's third brother, Demetrius, died -in Orél. His history has been told in Chapter II. Tolstoy -says: 'I was particularly horrid at that time. I -went to Orél from Petersburg, where I frequented -society and was filled with conceit. I felt sorry for Mítenka, -but not very sorry. I paid him a hurried visit, but did not -stay at Orél, and my brother died a few days after I left.' -On 2nd February the news reached Leo; but he says: 'I -really believe that what hurt me most, was that it prevented -my taking part in some private theatricals then being got -up at Court, and to which I had been invited.'</p> - -<p>In March the war ended, and Tolstoy obtained furlough. -On 25th March he wrote to his brother Sergius:</p> - -<p class="i2">I want to go abroad for eight months, and if they give me -leave I shall do so. I wrote to Nikólenka about it, and asked -him to come too. If we could all three arrange to go together -it would be first-rate. If each of us took Rs. 1000, we could -do the trip capitally.</p> - -<p class="i2">Please write and tell me how you like <i>The Snow Storm</i>. I -am dissatisfied with it—seriously. But I now want to write -many things, only I positively have no time in this damned -Petersburg. Anyway, whether they let me go abroad or not, -I intend to take furlough in April and come to the country.</p> - -<p>On 13th May he was still in Petersburg, and we find -him noting in his Diary:</p> - -<p class="i2">The powerful means to true happiness in life, is to let flow -from oneself on all sides, without any laws, like a spider, a -cobweb of love, and to catch in it all that comes to hand: -women old or young, children, or policemen.</p> - -<p>Among his literary acquaintances at this time the one -for whom he seems to have felt most sympathy and respect -was Drouzhínin, a critic, writer of stories, and translator of -Shakespear. Before long we find Drouzhínin leading a -revolt against the <i>Contemporary</i> and attracting some of the -contributors to the <i>Reading Library</i>, a rival magazine, to -which Tolstoy contributed an article in December 1856.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -It was not till the end of May that he got away from -Petersburg; and on his road home he stopped in Moscow -and visited the family of Dr. Behrs, a Russian of German -origin, who had married Miss Islényef. The first mention -one gets of Tolstoy's future wife is a note in his Diary -relating to this visit to the Behrs's country house near -Moscow. He says: 'The children served us. What dear, -merry little girls! Little more than six years later, the -second of these 'merry little girls' was Countess Tolstoy!</p> - -<p>Three days later he writes to his brother Sergius: 'I -spent ten days in Moscow ... very pleasantly, without -champagne or gipsies, but a little in love—I will tell you -later on with whom.' The object of his affection at that -time was of course not Dr. Behrs's twelve-year-old daughter.</p> - -<p>From Yásnaya he made a round of visits to see his -married sister and other neighbours; among them Tourgénef, -at whose house a gathering of the Tolstoys took place. -Special honour was paid to Leo, who comically posed as the -hero of a Triumph. He was being crowned and almost -covered with flowers, leaves, grass, and anything that came -handy, when the approach of an unwelcome guest—a lady -neighbour of Tourgénef's—was announced. Thereupon -the host seized his head in despair; the triumpher, with a -howl, began to turn rapid catherine-wheel somersaults -through the rooms; and his sister's husband was quickly -bandaged up as an invalid, to be used as an excuse and a -protection from the unwelcome intruder.</p> - -<p>The letter to Sergius, quoted above, contains an allusion -to Tolstoy's first serious matrimonial project.</p> - -<p>He had in childhood been much attached to a certain -Sónitchka Kalóshina. While at the University, he had -had a sentimental love affair with a certain Z. M., who -seems hardly to have been aware of his devotion. Then -there was the Cossack damsel who figures in <i>The Cossacks</i>, -and subsequently he much admired a society lady, Madame -Sch., who may also have been scarcely aware of his feelings, -for Tolstoy was shy and timid in these matters—which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -were quite different from his affairs with gipsy girls and -other hireable women.</p> - -<p>The present affair with V. V. A. was more serious than -any of its predecessors. It led to a long correspondence, -and even to their engagement being announced among -relations and friends. The lady was the good-looking -daughter of a landowner in the neighbourhood of Yásnaya -Polyána.</p> - -<p>In August she accompanied her family to Moscow for -the Coronation of Alexander II. At these festivities -she enjoyed herself greatly, and described her feelings -in a letter which dealt the first blow to Tolstoy's -admiration. He at once assumed towards her the rôle -which more than twenty-five years later he assumed towards -mankind in general, and upbraided her with the -insignificant and unworthy nature of her interests and -enjoyments, besides indulging in scathing sarcasms about -the fashionable circles with which she was so enraptured.</p> - -<p>The young lady did not reply. Tolstoy then begged -pardon—which was granted.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile he had fallen ill; and early in September -he wrote to his brother Sergius:</p> - -<p class="i2">Only now, at nine o'clock on Monday evening, can I give you -a satisfactory reply, for till now things went worse and worse. -Two doctors were sent for, and administered another forty -leeches, but only now have I had a good sleep and, on waking -up, feel considerably better. All the same, there can be no -question of my leaving home for five or six days yet. So -<i>au revoir</i>; please let me know when you go (shooting) and -whether it is true that your farming has been seriously -neglected; and do not kill all the game without me. I will -send the dogs, perhaps, to-morrow.</p> - -<p>He recovered. The young lady returned to her family's -estate at Soudakóva, and his visits being renewed, Tolstoy's -intimacy with her continued and grew closer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -Yet to 'test himself,' he started for a visit to Petersburg, -and as soon as he had got as far as Moscow, wrote a letter -to the young lady in which he dwelt on the importance of -the mutual attraction of the sexes, the serious nature of -his and her relation to one another, and the necessity of -testing themselves by time and distance.</p> - -<p>While living in Petersburg, he learnt the particulars of -a flirtation the young lady had carried on at the time of -the Coronation with a French music-master, Mortier; and -he wrote her a letter full of reproaches. Instead of posting -it, however, he wrote her another—telling her of the -one he had written, which he intended to show her when -they met.</p> - -<p>After once breaking off relations with Mortier, the young -lady allowed them to be again renewed, and what Tolstoy -learned of the matter caused him seriously to reconsider -his position. For some time his feelings evidently wavered. -The very day after posting his remonstrance, he wrote -another letter in a conciliatory tone, and though no reply -came, he assumed that all was well, and continued the -correspondence by sending her a detailed plan of the life -they might hope to live together: its surroundings, circle -of acquaintance, and the arrangement of their time. He -also tried to interest her in the most serious problems of -life.</p> - -<p>No answer reaching him for a long time, he became -agitated and perplexed. Then several letters, delayed in -the post, arrived all at once, and cordial intercourse was -re-established between the lovers. But though the -engagement and correspondence continued, and expressions -of affection were interchanged, it gradually became -more and more evident that there was something artificial -and unsatisfactory in their relation to one another.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Tolstoy was having other difficulties in -Petersburg. On 10th November 1856 he writes to his -brother Sergius:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -Forgive me, dear friend Seryózha, for only writing two words—I -have no time for more. I have been most unlucky since I -left home; there is no one here I like. It seems that I have -been abused in the <i>Fatherland Journal</i> for my war stories—I -have not yet read the attack; but the worst is that Konstantínof -[the General under whose command was the battery to -which Tolstoy was attached] informed me as soon as I got here -that the Grand Duke Michael, having learnt that I am supposed -to have composed the Soldiers' Song, is displeased, particularly -at my having (as rumour says) taught it to the soldiers. This -is abominable. I have had an explanation with the Head of -the Staff. The only satisfactory thing is that my health is -good, and that (Dr.) Schipoulínsky says my lungs are thoroughly -sound.</p> - -<p>On 20th November 1856 Tolstoy left the army, in which -he had never secured promotion though he had private -influence enough to enable him, about this time, to save -from trial by Court Martial the Commander of the battery -in which he had served in the Crimea.</p> - -<p>Early in December he left Petersburg for Moscow. -From there, on 5th December, he writes to Aunt -Tatiána:</p> - -<p class="i2">When I first went away and for a week after, I thought I -was 'in love' as it is called; but with an imagination such as -mine that was not difficult.</p> - -<p class="i2">Now, however, especially since I have set to work diligently, -I should like—and very much like—to be able to say that I -am in love, or even that I love her; but it is not the case. -The only feeling I have for her is gratitude for her love of me, -and the thought that of all the girls I have known or know, she -would have made me the best wife, as I understand family life. -And that is what I should like to have your candid opinion -about. Am I mistaken or not? I should like to hear your -advice because, in the first place, you know both her and me; -and chiefly because you love me, and those who love are never -wrong. It is true that I have tested myself very badly, for -from the time I left home I have led a solitary rather than a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -dissipated life, and have seen few women; but notwithstanding -that, I have had many moments of vexation with myself for -having become connected with her, and I have repented of it. -All the same, I repeat that if I were convinced that she is of a -steadfast nature, and would love me always—even though not -as now, yet more than any one else—then I should not hesitate -for a moment about marrying her. I am confident that then -my love of her would increase more and more and that through -that feeling she would become a good woman.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="p152"><img src="images/p152.jpg" width="300" -height="404" alt="" title="" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<span class="smcap">Tolstoy in 1856, the year he left the army.</span> -</div></div> - -<p>The young lady in question visited Petersburg for part -of the winter season, but Tolstoy does not appear to have -met her there, being himself away in Moscow for several -weeks. The correspondence was largely didactic on his -side, and was so unsatisfactory to the young lady that she -finally forbade him to write again. He disobeyed the -injunction, asking her pardon, telling her he was going -abroad, and begging that she would write to him once -more, to an address in Paris.</p> - -<p>He wrote to Aunt Tatiána from Moscow, on 12th January -1857, a letter in which Russian and French alternate.</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_31" id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a><span class="smcap">Chčre Tante!</span>—J'ai reçu mon passeport pour l'étranger et -je suis venu ŕ Moscou pour y passer quelques jours avec Marie -arranger mes affaires et prendre congé de vous.</p> - -<p class="i2">But now I have reconsidered the matter, especially on -Máshenka's advice, and have decided to remain with her here -a week or two and then to go straight through Warsaw to -Paris. You no doubt understand, <i>chčre tante</i>, why I do not -wish and why it is not right for me to come now to Yásnaya, -or rather to Soudakóva. I, it seems, have acted very badly in -relation to V., but were I to see her now, I should behave still -worse. As I wrote you, I am more than indifferent to her, and -feel that I can no longer deceive either her or myself. But -were I to come, I might perhaps, from weakness of character, -again delude myself.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -Vous rappelez-vous, chčre tante, comme vous vous ętes -moquée de moi, quand je vous ai dit que je partais pour Pétersbourg -'pour m'éprouver,' et cependant c'est ŕ cette idée que je -suis redevable de n'avoir pas fait le malheur de la jeune personne -et le mien, car ne croyez pas que ce soit de l'inconstance -ou de l'infidélité; personne ne m'a plu pendant ces deux mois, -mais tout bonnement j'ai vu que je me trompais moi-męme; -que non seulement jamais je n'ai eu, mais jamais je n'aurais -pour V. le moindre sentiment d'amour véritable. La seule -chose qui me fait beaucoup de peine c'est que j'ai fait du tort -ŕ la demoiselle et que je ne pourrai prendre congé de vous -avant de partir....</p> - -<p>After reaching Paris (an event belonging properly -to the next chapter) he received a last communication -from V. V. A. and wrote her a friendly letter in -reply, speaking of his love as of something past, -thanking her for her friendship, and wishing her every -happiness.</p> - -<p>His Aunt Tatiána—generally the mildest of critics -where he was concerned—appears to have blamed him for -his conduct; and the friends of V. V. A., including -a French governess, Mlle. Vergani, did so yet more -severely. In one of his letters, which contains indications -of an agitation too strong to allow him to -complete the construction of the opening sentence, he -says:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -<a name="FNanchor_32" id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a>Si Mlle. V. qui m'a écrit une lettre aussi ridicule, voulait -se rappeler toute ma conduite vis-ŕ-vis de V. V. A., comment -je tâchais de venir le plus rarement possible, comment c'est -elle qui m'engageait ŕ venir plus souvent et ŕ entrer dans des -relations plus proches. Je comprends qu'elle soit fâchée de -ce qu'une chose qu'elle a beaucoup désirée ne s'est pas faite -(j'en suis fâché peut-ętre plus qu'elle) mais ce n'est pas une -raison pour dire ŕ un homme qui s'est efforcé d'agir le mieux -possible, qui a fait des sacrifices de peur de faire le malheur -des autres, de lui dire, qu'il est un <i>pig</i> [this one word is in -Russian in the original] et de le faire accroire ŕ tout le monde. -Je suis sűr que Toúla [the town nearest his estate] est convaincu -que je suis le plus grand des monstres.</p> - -<p>Turning from love to literature and friendship, we have -two letters of this period from Tourgénef. The first is -dated Paris, 16th November 1856, and is as follows:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dearest Tolstoy</span>,—Your letter of 15 October took a whole -month crawling to me—I received it only yesterday. I have -thought carefully about what you write me—and I think you -are wrong. It is true I cannot be quite sincere, because I can't -be quite frank, with you. I think we got to know each other -awkwardly and at a bad time, and when we meet again it will -be much easier and smoother. I feel that I love you as a man -(as an author it needs no saying); but much in you is trying to -me, and ultimately I found it better to keep at a distance from -you. When we meet we will again try to go hand in hand—perhaps -we shall succeed better; for strange as it may sound, -my heart turns to you when at a distance, as to a brother:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -I even feel tenderly towards you. In a word, I love you—that -is certain; perchance from that, in time, all good will follow. -I heard of your illness and grieved; but now, I beg you, drive -the thought of it out of your head. For you too have your -fancies, and are perhaps thinking of consumption—but, God -knows, you have nothing of the sort....</p> - -<p class="i2">You have finished the first part of <i>Youth</i>—that is capital. -How sorry I am to be unable to hear it read! If you do not go -astray (which I think there is no reason to anticipate) you will -go very far. I wish you good health, activity—and freedom, -spiritual freedom.</p> - -<p class="i2">As to my <i>Faust</i>, I do not think it will please you very much. -My things could please you and perhaps have some influence on -you, only until you became independent. Now you have no -need to study me; you see only the difference of our manners, -the mistakes and the omissions; what you have to do is to -study man, your own heart, and the really great writers. I am -a writer of a transition period—and am of use only to men in -a transition state. So farewell, and be well. Write to me.</p> - -<p>On 8th December 1856 he writes again:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dear Tolstoy</span>,—Yesterday my good genius led me past the -post-office, and it occurred to me to ask if there were any -letters for me at the <i>poste-restante</i> (though I think that all my -friends ought long ago to have learnt my Paris address) and -I found your letter, in which you speak of my <i>Faust</i>. You can -well imagine how glad I was to read it. Your sympathy -gladdened me truly and deeply. Yes, and from the whole -letter there breathes a mild, clear and friendly peacefulness. -It remains for me to hold out my hand across the 'ravine' -which has long since become a hardly perceptible crack, about -which we will speak no more—it is not worth it.</p> - -<p class="i2">I fear to speak of one thing you mention: it is a delicate -matter,—words may blight such things before they are ripe, -but when they are ripe a hammer will not break them. God -grant that all may turn out favourably and well. It may bring -you that spiritual repose which you lacked when I knew you.</p> - -<p class="i2">You have, I see, now become very intimate with Drouzhínin—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -are under his influence. That is right, only take care -not to swallow too much of him. When I was your age, only -men of enthusiastic natures influenced me; but you are built -differently, and perhaps also the times are changed.... Let -me know in which numbers of the <i>Contemporary</i> your <i>Youth</i> will -appear; and by the way, let me know the final impression -made on you by <i>Lear</i>, which you probably have read, if only for -Drouzhínin's sake.</p> - -<p>About the same time Tourgénef wrote to Drouzhínin:</p> - -<p class="i2">I hear that you have become very intimate with Tolstoy—and -he has become very pleasant and serene. I am very glad. -When that new wine has finished fermenting, it will yield -a drink fit for the Gods. What about his <i>Youth</i>, which was sent -for your verdict?</p> - -<p>The allusion to Drouzhínin's translation of <i>King Lear</i> -is worth noticing because fully fifty years later it was this -play that Tolstoy selected for hostile analysis in his famous -attack on Shakespear. One gathers from a letter written -by V. P. Bótkin, that Drouzhínin's rendering impressed -Tolstoy favourably at the time.</p> - -<p>Before quoting Drouzhínin's criticism of <i>Youth</i>, it will be -in place to mention other works by Tolstoy, not yet -enumerated, which appeared at this period. <i>Memoirs of a -Billiard Marker</i>, giving a glimpse of temptations Tolstoy -had experienced, was published in January 1855, while he -was in Sevastopol. In January 1856 came <i>Sevastopol in -August</i>. In March 1856 appeared <i>The Snow Storm</i>. In -May 1856 came a rollicking tale, with flashes of humour -like that of Charles Lever, entitled <i>Two Hussars</i>. It is -the only story Tolstoy ever wrote in that vein; and in it -are introduced gipsy singers such as those of whom repeated -mention occurs in his letters. In December, before he -went abroad, two more tales were published: one of these, -entitled <i>Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment</i>, -containing a scathing portrayal of the cowardice a man, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -who had passed muster in 'good society,' displayed when -circumstances put him to the test. The other story, <i>A -Squire's Morning</i>, is closely drawn from Tolstoy's own experience -when on first leaving the University he settled on -his estate and attempted to better the condition of his -serfs. Their stolidity, their distrust, and the immense -difficulty of introducing any changes, are all brought out.</p> - -<p>In a letter to Drouzhínin, Tourgénef wrote:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have read his <i>Squire's Morning</i>, which pleased me exceedingly -by its sincerity and almost complete freedom of outlook. -I say 'almost' because in the way he set himself the task, -there still is hidden (without his perhaps being aware of it) -a certain amount of prejudice. The chief moral impression -produced by the story (leaving the artistic impression aside) -is that so long as the state of serfdom exists, there is no -possibility of the two sides drawing together, despite the most -disinterested and honourable desire to do so; and this impression -is good and true. But beside it, like a horse cantering -beside a trotter, there is another: namely, that in general to -try to enlighten or improve the condition of the peasants leads -to nothing; and this impression is unpleasant. But the mastery -of language, the way it is told, and his character-drawing, are -grand.</p> - - -<h3>1857</h3> - -<p>In January 1857 appeared <i>Youth</i>, the continuation -of <i>Childhood</i> and <i>Boyhood</i>.</p> - -<p>How great Drouzhínin's influence was with Tolstoy at -this time, may be judged by the tone of his letter to -him, giving an opinion on <i>Youth</i>. He writes:</p> - -<p class="i2">About <i>Youth</i> one ought to write twenty pages. I read it -with anger, with yells and with oaths—not on account of its -literary quality, but because of the quality of the notebooks in -which it is written, and the handwritings. The mixing of -two hands, a known and an unknown, diverted my attention -and hindered an intelligent perusal. It was as though two -voices shouted in my ear and purposely distracted my attention, -and I know that this has prevented my receiving an adequate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -impression. All the same I will say what I can. Your task -was a terrible one, and you have executed it very well. No -other writer of our day could have so seized and sketched the -agitated and disorderly period of youth. To those who are -developed, your <i>Youth</i> will furnish an immense pleasure; and -if any one tells you it is inferior to <i>Childhood</i> and <i>Boyhood</i> you -may spit in his physiognomy. There is a world of poetry in it—all -the first chapters are admirable; only the introduction is -dry till one reaches the description of spring.... In many -chapters one scents the poetic charm of old Moscow, which -no one has yet reproduced properly. Some chapters are dry -and long: for instance all the stipulations with Dmítry Nehlúdof.... The -conscription of Semyónof will not pass the -Censor.</p> - -<p class="i2">Do not fear your reflections, they are all clever and original. -But you have an inclination to a super-refinement of analysis -which may become a great defect. You are sometimes on the -point of saying that so-and-so's thigh indicated that he wished -to travel in India. You must restrain this tendency, but do -not extinguish it on any account. All your work on your -analyses should be of the same kind. Each of your defects has -its share of strength and beauty, and almost every one of your -qualities carries with it the seed of a defect.</p> - -<p class="i2">Your style quite accords with that conclusion: you are most -ungrammatical, sometimes with the lack of grammar of a -reformer and powerful poet reshaping a language his own way -and for ever, but sometimes with the lack of grammar of an -officer sitting in a casemate and writing to his chum. One can -say with assurance that all the pages you have written with -love are admirable,—but as soon as you grow cold, your words -become entangled, and diabolical forms of speech appear. -Therefore the parts written coldly should be revised and corrected. -I tried to straighten out some bits, but gave it up; it -is a work which only you can and must do. Above all, avoid -long sentences. Cut them up into two or three; do not be -sparing of full-stops.... Do not stand on ceremony with the -particles, and strike out by dozens the words: <i>which</i>, <i>who</i>, and -<i>that</i>. When in difficulties, take a sentence and imagine that -you want to say it to some one in a most conversational way.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -As a translator I may testify that Tolstoy never fully -learned the lesson Drouzhínin here set him, and that to the -very last he continued occasionally to intermingle passages of -extraordinary simplicity and force with sentences that defy -analysis and abound in redundances.</p> - -<p>Nearly fifty years later Tolstoy himself criticised the -subject-matter of <i>Childhood</i>, <i>Boyhood</i>, and <i>Youth</i> as -follows:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have re-read them and regret that I wrote them; so ill, -artificially and insincerely are they penned. It could not be -otherwise: first, because what I aimed at was not to write my -own history but that of the friends of my youth, and this produced -an awkward mixture of the facts of their and my own -childhood; and secondly, because at the time I wrote it I was -far from being independent in my way of expressing myself, -being strongly influenced by two writers: Sterne (his <i>Sentimental -Journey</i>) and Töpffer (his <i>Bibliothčque de Mon Oncle</i>).</p> - -<p class="i2">I am now specially dissatisfied with the two last parts. <i>Boyhood</i> -and <i>Youth</i>, in which besides an awkward mixture of truth -and invention, there is also insincerity: a desire to put forward -as good and important what I did not then consider good and -important, namely, my democratic tendency.</p> - -<p>Before concluding this chapter it will be in place to -give a list of books Tolstoy mentions as having influenced -him after he left the University and before his marriage. -They were: Goethe's <i>Hermann und Dorothea</i>; Hugo's -<i>Notre Dame de Paris</i>; Plato's <i>Phaedo</i> and <i>Symposium</i> (in -Cousin's French translation); and the <i>Iliad</i> and <i>Odyssey</i> in -Russian versions. All these, he says, had a 'very great' -influence on him, while the poems of his compatriots, -Tútchef, Kóltsof, and his friend Fet, had 'great' influence.</p> - -<p>He tells us that artistic talent in literature influenced -him more than any political or social tendency; and this is -quite in accord both with his highly artistic nature and -with his general apathy towards public affairs. There was -a Slavophil theory (built to justify things as they were)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -which proclaimed it natural for a Slavonic people to leave -the task of governing to its rulers, while retaining its -intellectual freedom to disapprove of what was done amiss; -and though Tolstoy never joined the Slavophils, this has -been very much his own attitude on the matter.</p> - -<p>Even in early childhood he had appreciated some of -Poúshkin's poems, such as <i>To the Sea</i> and <i>To Napoleon</i>, -and had learned them by heart and recited them with -feeling; but curiously enough it was the perusal of -Mérimée's French prose translation of Poúshkin's <i>Gipsies</i> -that, after he was grown up, aroused Tolstoy's keen admiration -of Poúshkin's mastery of clear, simple, direct language. -Later in life Tolstoy used to say that Poúshkin's prose -stories, such as <i>The Captain's Daughter</i>, are his best works; -but he never lost his appreciation of Poúshkin's power of -expression in verse. In his Diary (4th January 1857) he -wrote:</p> - -<p class="i2">I dined at Bótkin's with Panáef alone; he read me Poúshkin; -I went into Bótkin's study and wrote a letter to Tourgénef, and -then I sat down on the sofa and wept causeless but blissful -tears. I am positively happy all this time, intoxicated with the -rapidity of my moral progress.</p> - -<p>Despite his headstrong outbursts and many vacillations, -he seems to have been always a welcome guest in almost -any society he cared to frequent, and none of his critics has -spoken as harshly of him as he speaks of himself when -describing these</p> - -<p class="i2">terrible twenty years of coarse dissipation, the service of -ambition, vanity, and above all of lust.... It is true that not -all my life was so terribly bad as this twenty-year period from -fourteen to thirty-four; and it is true that even that period of -my life was not the continuous evil that during a recent illness -it appeared to me to be. Even during those years, strivings -towards goodness awoke in me, though they did not last long, -and were soon choked by passions nothing could restrain.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -In his <i>Confession</i>, written more than twenty years later, -when speaking of his religious beliefs at this time, Tolstoy -tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2">With all my soul I wished to be good; but I was young, -passionate, and alone, completely alone when I sought goodness. -Every time I tried to express my most sincere desire, -namely, to be morally good, I met with contempt and ridicule; -but as soon as I yielded to nasty passions I was praised and -encouraged.</p> - -<p class="i2">Ambition, love of power, covetousness, lasciviousness, pride, -anger and revenge—were all respected.... I cannot think of -those years without horror, loathing and heartache. I killed -men in war, and challenged men to duels in order to kill them; -I lost at cards, consumed the labour of the peasants, sentenced -them to punishments, lived loosely and deceived people. Lying, -robbery, adultery of all kinds, drunkenness, violence, murder—there -was no crime I did not commit, and people approved of -my conduct, and my contemporaries considered and consider -me to be a comparatively moral man.</p> - -<p class="i2">So I lived for ten years.</p> - -<p class="i2">During that time I began to write from vanity, covetousness -and pride. In my writings I did the same as in my life. To -get fame and money, for the sake of which I wrote, it was -necessary to hide the good and to show the evil. And I did so. -How often in my writings did I contrive to hide under the -guise of indifference or even of banter, those strivings of mine -towards goodness, which gave meaning to my life! And I -succeeded in this, and was praised.</p> - -<p class="i2">At twenty-six years of age<a name="FNanchor_33" id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> I returned to Petersburg after -the war, and met the writers. They received me as one of -themselves and flattered me. And before I had time to look -round I had adopted the class views on life of the authors -I had come among, and these views completely obliterated all -my former strivings to improve. Those views furnished a -theory which justified the dissoluteness of my life. The view -of life of these people, my comrades in authorship, consisted -in this: that life in general goes on developing, and in this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -development we—men of thought—have the chief part; and -among men of thought it is we—artists and poets—who have -the chief influence. Our vocation is to teach mankind. And -lest the simple question should suggest itself: What do I -know, and what can I teach? it is explained in this theory -that this need not be known, and that the artist and poet -teach unconsciously. I was considered an admirable artist and -poet, and therefore it was very natural for me to adopt this -theory. I, artist and poet, wrote and taught, without myself -knowing what. For this I was paid money; I had excellent -food, lodging, women and society; and I had fame, which -showed that what I taught was very good.</p> - -<p class="i2">This faith in the meaning of poetry and in the development -of life, was a religion, and I was one of its priests. To be -its priest was very pleasant and profitable. And I lived a -considerable time in this faith without doubting its validity. -But in the second, and especially in the third year of this life, -I began to doubt the infallibility of this religion and to examine -it. My first cause of doubt was that I began to notice that -the priests of this religion were not all in accord among themselves. -Some said: We are the best and most useful teachers; -we teach what is wanted, but the others teach wrongly. Others -said: No! we are the real teachers, and you teach wrongly. -And they disputed, quarrelled, abused one another, cheated, -and tricked one another. There were also many among them -who did not care who was right and who was wrong, but were -simply bent on attaining their covetous aims by means of this -activity of ours. All this obliged me to doubt the validity of -our creed.</p> - -<p class="i2">Moreover, having begun to doubt the truth of the authors' -creed itself, I also began to observe its priests more attentively, -and I became convinced that almost all the priests of that -religion, the writers, were immoral, and for the most part men -of bad, worthless character, much inferior to those whom I had -met in my former dissipated and military life; but they were -self-confident and self-assured as only those can be who are -quite holy or who do not know what holiness is. These people -revolted me, and I became revolting to myself, and I realised -that that faith is a fraud.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i2">But strange to say, though I understood this fraud and -renounced it, yet I did not renounce the rank these people -gave me: the rank of artist, poet, and teacher. I naďvely -imagined that I was a poet and artist and could teach everybody -without myself knowing what I was teaching, and I acted -on that assumption.</p> - -<p class="i2">From my intimacy with these men I acquired a new vice: -abnormally developed pride, and an insane assurance that it was -my vocation to teach men, without knowing what.</p> - -<p class="i2">To remember that time, and my own state of mind and -that of those men (though there are thousands like them -to-day) is sad and terrible and ludicrous, and arouses exactly -the feeling one experiences in a lunatic asylum.</p> - -<p class="i2">We were all then convinced that it was necessary for us to -speak, write, and print as quickly as possible and as much as possible, -and that it was all wanted for the good of humanity. And -thousands of us, contradicting and abusing one another, all -printed and wrote—teaching others. And without remarking -that we knew nothing, and that to the simplest of life's questions: -What is good and what is evil? we did not know how -to reply, we all, not listening to one another, talked at the -same time, sometimes backing and praising one another in -order to be backed and praised in turn, sometimes getting -angry with one another—just as in a lunatic asylum.</p> - -<p class="i2">Thousands of workmen laboured to the extreme limit of their -strength day and night setting the type and printing millions -of words which the post carried all over Russia, and we still -went on teaching and could nohow find time to teach enough, -and were always angry that sufficient attention was not paid -to us.</p> - -<p class="i2">It was terribly strange, but is now quite comprehensible. -Our real innermost consideration was, that we wanted to get as -much money and praise as possible. To gain this end we could -do nothing except write books and papers. So we did that. -But in order to do such useless work and feel assured that we -were very important people, we required a theory justifying our -activity. And so among us this theory was devised: 'All that -exists develops. And it all develops by means of Culture. -And Culture is measured by the circulation of books and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -newspapers. And we are paid money and are respected -because we write books and newspapers, and therefore we are -the most useful and the best of men.' This theory would have -been all very well if we had been unanimous, but as every -thought expressed by one of us was always met by a diametrically -opposed thought expressed by some one else, we ought to have -been driven to reflection. But we ignored this; people paid us -money, and those on our side praised us; so each one of us -considered himself justified.</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER V</h3> - -<p>Birukof.</p> - -<p>Behrs.</p> - -<p>A. Fet (Shenshin): <i>Moi Vospominaniya</i>, Moscow, 1890. These -<i>Recollections</i> contain much authentic information about Tolstoy, as -well as a large number of his letters to Fet, which I have quoted in -subsequent chapters.</p> - -<p>Bitovt.</p> - -<p>Golovatcheva-Panaeva, <i>Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty</i>: Petersburg, 1890.</p> - -<p>D. V. Grigorovitch, <i>Literatourniya Vospominaniya</i>: vol. xii. p. 326.</p> - -<p>G. P. Danilevsky, <i>Istoritcheskii Vestnik</i>: March 1886.</p> - -<p>P. A. Sergeyenko, <i>Tourgenef i Tolstoy</i>: <i>Niva</i>, No. 6, 1906.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's <i>Confession</i>.</p> - -<p>See also, in Tolstoy's works. <i>The Decembrists</i>, chap. i.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap6">CHAPTER VI<br /> -TRAVELS ABROAD</h2> - -<p class="i2">Paris. Relations with Tourgénef. <i>Albert.</i> An execution. -Switzerland. <i>Lucerne.</i> Yásnaya again. The <i>Iliad</i> and the -Gospels. Moscow: gymnastics. <i>Three Deaths.</i> Musical -Society. Aunty Tatiána. 'Ufanizing.' Emancipation. -Bear-hunting. Moscow Society of Lovers of Russian Literature. -Attitude towards Art in 1859. Tourgénef. Farming. -Fet. Drouzhínin. Nicholas's illness. Goes abroad again. -Germany. Educational studies. Auerbach. Nicholas dies. -Life at Hyčres: children. Italy. Marseilles. Paris. Paul -de Kock. London. Herzen. Proudhon. <i>Polikoúshka.</i> -Auerbach again. Returns home.</p> - - -<h3>1857</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">Since</span> he took part in the Turkish war in 1854, Tolstoy -has only twice been out of Russia. The first time was at -the period we have now reached. On 10th February -1857 (new style) he left Moscow by post-chaise -for Warsaw, from whence a railway already ran -westward. He reached Paris on 21st February. There -he met Tourgénef and Nekrásof, with the former of whom -he was still unable to get on smoothly. Tourgénef writes: -'With Tolstoy I still cannot become quite intimate; we -see things too differently'; and in some moment of anger -Tolstoy even challenged his fellow-writer to a duel.<a name="FNanchor_34" id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> -Nekrásof appears to have patched matters up, and in -March Tolstoy and Tourgénef went to Dijon together, -and spent some days there. During this trip Tolstoy -commenced his story <i>Albert</i>, founded on his experience -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -with the talented but drunken musician Rudolf, already -mentioned in Chapter III. After he had returned to Paris, -he was present at an execution, and made the following -jotting in his Diary:</p> - -<p class="i2">I rose at seven o'clock and drove to see an execution. A -stout, white, healthy neck and breast: he kissed the Gospels, -and then—Death. How senseless.... I have not received -this strong impression for naught. I am not a man of politics. -Morals and art I know, love, and can (deal with). The -guillotine long prevented my sleeping and obliged me to -reflect.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy has a gift of telling the essential truth in few -words, and never did he sum himself up better than in the -sentences, 'I am not a man of politics. Morals and art I -know, love, and can.' There is hardly any possible room -for doubt about the second sentence, and there is certainly -none about the first, as his whole life shows.</p> - -<p>Many years later, he wrote of this event in his <i>Confession</i>:</p> - -<p class="i2">When I saw the head separate from the body, and how they -both thumped into the box at the same moment, I understood, -not with my mind but with my whole being, that no theory of -the reasonableness of our present progress can justify this deed; -and that though everybody from the creation of the world, on -whatever theory, had held it to be necessary, I know it to be -unnecessary and bad; and therefore the arbiter of what is good -and evil is not what people say and do, and is not progress, but -is my heart and I.</p> - -<p>It was probably during this visit to Paris that Tolstoy -witnessed and admired Chevet's popularisation of music by -an easy system of instruction, of which he says:</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>I have seen hundreds of horny-handed working men sitting -on benches (under which lay the tool-bags they brought from -their work) singing at sight, and understanding and being -interested in the laws of music.</p></blockquote> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -This experience he utilised later on in his school at -Yásnaya.</p> - -<p>In spring he went to Switzerland, and from Geneva he -wrote to his Aunt Tatiána:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a>J'ai passé un mois et demi ŕ Paris, et si agréablement que -tous les jours je me suis dit, que j'ai bien fait de venir ŕ -l'étranger. Je suis trčs peu allé ni dans la société, ni dans le -monde littéraire, ni dans le monde des cafés et des bals publics, -mais malgré cela j'ai trouvé ici tant de choses nouvelles et -intéressantes pour moi, que tous les jours, en me couchant, je -me dis, quel dommage que la journée est passée si vite; je -n'ai męme pas eu le temps de travailler, ce que je me proposais -de faire.</p> - -<p class="i2">Le pauvre Turgenef est trčs malade physiquement et encore -plus moralement. Sa malheureuse liaison avec Madame Viardot, -et sa fille, le retiennent ici dans un climat qui lui est pernicieux -et il fait pitié de voir. Je n'aurais jamais cru qu'il put aimer -ainsi.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's friends Drouzhínin and V. P. Bótkin visited -Geneva at this time, and they all three went on a walking -tour into Piedmont together. After that he settled at -Clarens on the lake of Geneva, from whence he again -wrote to Aunt Tatiána:</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>18 Mai 1857.</i></p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_36" id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a>Je viens de recevoir votre lettre, chčre tante, qui m'a trouvée -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -comme vous devez le savoir d'aprčs ma derničre lettre, aux -environs de Genčve ŕ Clarens dans ce męme village, oů a -demeuré la Julia de Rousseau.... Je n'essaierai pas de vous -depeindre la beauté de ce pays, surtout ŕ présent, quand tout -est en feuilles et en fleurs; je vous dirai seulement, qu'ŕ la -lettre il est impossible de se détacher de ce lac et de ces -rivages et que je passe la plus grande partie de mon temps ŕ -regarder et ŕ admirer en me promenant, ou bien en me mettant -seulement ŕ la fenętre de ma chambre.</p> - -<p class="i2">Je ne cesse de me féliciter de l'idée que j'ai eu de quitter -Paris et de venir passer le printemps ici, quoique cela m'ait -mérité de votre part le reproche d'inconstance. Vraiment, je -suis heureux, and begin to feel the advantage of having been -born with a caul.</p> - -<p class="i2">Il y a ici société charmante de russes: les Poúshkins, the -Karamzíns and the Mestchérskys; and they have all, Heaven -knows why, taken to liking me; I feel it, and the month I have -spent here I have been so nice and good and cosy, that I am -sad at the thought of leaving.</p> - -<p>From Clarens he took steamer to Montreux, and from -there went on foot, taking with him as companion a ten-year-old -lad named Sásha, the son of some Russians whose -acquaintance he had made at Clarens. They crossed the -Pass of Jamon and, after changing their minds as to the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -direction they would take, finally made for Château d'Oex, -from whence they proceeded by <i>diligence</i> to Thun. From -that town Tolstoy went on to Lucerne, which he reached -in July 1857.</p> - -<p>Again and again in his Diary and letters Tolstoy's -vivid delight in Nature shows itself in descriptions of the -scenery: 'It is wonderful,' he writes, 'but I was at Clarens -for two months, and every time—when in the morning, -and especially after dinner towards evening—I opened the -shutters on which the shadows were already falling, and -glanced at the lake and the distant blue of the mountains -reflected in it, the beauty blinded me and acted on me -with the force of a surprise.' But together with this keen -appreciation, comes now and then a sort of protest that -this grandiose Swiss mountain scenery is, after all, not the -Nature that most appeals to him—a yearning for the vast -steppes and forests of his native land. After ascending -the Pass of Jamon and describing the magnificent scenery -and the pleasure of the climb, he adds:</p> - -<p class="i2">It was something beautiful, even unusually beautiful, but I do -not love what are called magnificent and remarkable views: -they are, as it were, cold.... I love Nature when, though it -surrounds me on all sides and extends unendingly, I am part of -it. I love it, when on all sides I am surrounded by hot air, and -that same air rolls away to unending distance, and those same -sappy leaves of grass which I crush as I sit on them, form the -green of the boundless meadows; when those same leaves -which, fluttering in the wind, run their shadows across my face, -form also the dark blue of the distant forests; while the same -air one breathes makes the deep, light blue of the immeasurable -sky; when you do not exult and rejoice alone in Nature, -but when around you myriads of insects buzz and whirl, and -beetles, clinging together, creep about, and all around you -birds overflow with song.</p> - -<p class="i2">But this is bare, cold, desolate, grey plateau; and somewhere -afar there is something beautiful veiled with mist. But that -something is so distant that I do not feel the chief delight of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -Nature—do not feel myself a part of that endless and beautiful -distance: it is foreign to me.</p> - -<p>From Lucerne he writes:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_37" id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a>Je suis de nouveau tout seul, et je vous avouerai que trčs -souvent la solitude m'est pénible, car les connaissances qu'on -fait dans les hôtels et en chemin de fer ne sont pas des -ressources; mais cet isolement a du moins le bon côté de me -pousser au travail. Je travaille un peu, mais cela va mal, -comme d'ordinaire en été.</p> - -<p>It was here that the incident occurred described in -<i>Lucerne</i>, a sketch published in the September number of -the <i>Contemporary</i> that same year, and one which in its -fierce castigation of the rich is a precursor of much that -he wrote thirty years later. Especially the conduct of the -wealthy English tourists roused his ire. The particular -incident the story deals with is this:</p> - -<p class="i2">On 7 July 1857, in Lucerne, in front of the Schweizerhof -Hotel, where the richest people stay, an itinerant mendicant-singer -sang songs and played his guitar for half-an-hour. -About a hundred people listened to him. Three times the -singer asked them to give him something, but not one of them -did so, and many laughed at him.</p> - -<p class="i2">This is not fiction, but a positive fact, which any one who -cares may verify by asking the permanent inhabitants of the -Schweizerhof, and by looking up the newspaper lists of foreign -visitors at the Schweizerhof on 7 July.</p> - -<p class="i2">It is an event which the historians of our times should -inscribe in indelible letters of fire.</p> - -<p>In the story, Prince Nehlúdof, indignant at such treatment -of a man who was a real artist and whose songs all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -had enjoyed, brought the singer into the hotel and treated -him to a bottle of wine. He goes on to ask himself:</p> - -<p class="i2">Which is more a man, and which more a barbarian: the lord -who, on seeing the singer's worn-out clothes, angrily left the -table, and for his service did not give him a millionth part of -his property, and who now sits satiated, in a well-lit, comfortable -room, calmly discussing the affairs of China and approving -the murders that are being committed there—or the little -singer who with a franc in his pocket, risking imprisonment, -has tramped over hill and dale for twenty years, harming no -one but cheering many by his songs, and whom they insulted -to-day and all but turned out, leaving him—weary, hungry and -humiliated—to make his bed somewhere on rotting straw?</p> - -<p>After passing a few weeks at Lucerne, Tolstoy returned -to Russia <i>viâ</i> Stuttgart, Berlin, and Stettin, from which -port he took steamer to Petersburg, and after staying a -week there to see Nekrásof and meet his colleagues of -the <i>Contemporary</i>, he went through Moscow to Yásnaya, -where he arrived in August. In his Diary we find this -note:</p> - -<p class="i2">This is how, on my journey, I planned my future occupations: -first, literary work; next, family duties; then, estate -management. But the estate I must leave as far as possible -to the steward, softening him and making improvements, and -spending only Rs. 2000 a year [then equal to about Ł270], and -using the rest for the serfs. Above all, my stumbling-block is -Liberal vanity. To live for oneself and do a good deed a day, -is sufficient.</p> - -<p>Further on he says: 'Self-sacrifice does not lie in saying -"Take what you like from me," but in labouring and -thinking, and contriving how to give oneself.'</p> - -<p>At this time he read (in translation) the <i>Iliad</i> and the -Gospels, which both impressed him greatly. 'I have -finished reading the indescribably beautiful end of the -<i>Iliad</i>,' he notes, and expresses his regret that there is no -connection between those two wonderful works.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> - -<p>In October he first accompanied his brother Nicholas -and his sister Mary to Moscow, and then spent a few days -in Petersburg, where he found that he had been forgotten -by a world absorbed in the great measures of public -reform then in course of preparation. Here is a sentence -from his Diary:</p> - -<p class="i2">Petersburg at first mortified me and then put me right. My -reputation has fallen and hardly gives a squeak, and I felt -much hurt; but now I am tranquil. I know I have something -to say and strength to say it strongly; and the public may then -say what it will. But I must work conscientiously, exerting all -my powers; then ... let them spit upon the altar.</p> - -<p>By the end of October (old style) he was back in -Moscow, established in furnished apartments in the -Pyátnitsky Street, with his sister and his brother Nicholas. -His friend Fet was also in Moscow at this time, and in his -<i>Recollections</i> makes frequent mention of the Tolstoys. He -tells us that the Countess Mary (who was an exceedingly -accomplished pianist) used to come to his house for music -in the evenings, accompanied sometimes by both her -brothers and sometimes by Nicholas alone, who would say:</p> - -<p>'Lyóvotchka has again donned his evening clothes and -white necktie, and gone to a ball.'</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's elegance in dress was very noticeable at this -period. We read of the grey beaver collar of his overcoat, -of a fashionable cane he carried, and of the glossy hat he -wore placed on one side, as well as of his curly, dark-brown -hair.</p> - -<p>Gymnastics were fashionable in Moscow in those days, -and any one wishing to find Tolstoy between one and two -o'clock in the afternoon, could do so at the Gymnasium on -the Great Dmítrovka Street, where, dressed in gymnastic -attire, he might be seen intent on springing over the -vaulting-horse without upsetting a cone placed on its back. -He always was expert at physical exercises: a first-rate -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -horseman, quick at all games and sports, a swimmer, and -an excellent skater.</p> - -<p>Among the visitors Fet met at Tolstoy's house we note -the name of Saltykóf, who under the pseudonym of -Stchedrín is known as one of the keenest and most powerful -of Russia's satirists, and who during the last seven years -of the reign of Nicholas I had lived in banishment in the -far-off town of Vyátka. Another guest was B. N. Tchitchérin, -philosopher and jurist, and author of works on <i>Science and -Religion</i>, <i>Property and the State</i>, and other subjects -Tolstoy dealt with three or four decades later. Katkóf, -editor of the <i>Moscow Gazette</i> and monthly <i>Russian -Messenger</i>, was another acquaintance; and in his magazine -some of Tolstoy's chief works appeared.</p> - - -<h3>1858</h3> - -<p>In January 1858 Tolstoy's aunt, who had been a friend -of his boyhood, the Countess Alexandra A. Tolstoy, Maid -of Honour to the Grand Duchess Márya Nikoláyevna, -came to Moscow. Through this aunt -(who lived to a great age, and died only a few years ago) -Tolstoy used to receive information of what went on at -Court, and was sometimes able indirectly to exert influence -'in the highest circles.' When she returned to Petersburg -Tolstoy accompanied her as far as the town of Klin, on the -Nicholas railway, and took the opportunity to visit the -Princess Volkónsky (a cousin of his mother's), who had a -small estate in those parts. He remained some weeks with -this affectionate old lady, who told him much about his -mother and her family, and he greatly enjoyed his quiet -stay with her. At her house he wrote <i>Three Deaths</i>, which -appeared the following January in <i>The Reading Library</i>. -It is an admirably written study of the deaths of a rich -lady, a poor post-horse driver, and a tree.</p> - -<p>In February he returned to Yásnaya Polyána; then -again visited Moscow, and in March spent a fortnight in -Petersburg. His love of music reasserted itself strongly -at this period; and in conjunction with V. P. Bótkin,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -Perfílief, Mortier (his late rival in love) and others, he -founded the Moscow Musical Society, which ultimately -resulted in the formation of the Moscow Conservatoire -of which Nicholas Rubinstein became Director.</p> - -<p>One of Tolstoy's most intimate acquaintances at this -period was S. T. Aksákof, author of stories and memoirs, -lover of hunting and fishing, and father of two famous -sons, both prominent Slavophil leaders.</p> - -<p>The invigorating influence of spring shows itself in a -letter Tolstoy wrote about this time to his aunt, the -Countess A. A. Tolstoy (whom he calls 'Grandma'):</p> - -<p class="p2 i2"><span class="smcap">Grandma!</span>—Spring!</p> - -<p class="i2">For good people it is excellent to live in the world; and even -for such men as me, it is sometimes good. In Nature, in the -air, in everything, is hope, future—an attractive future.... -Sometimes one deceives oneself and thinks that happiness and -a future await not only Nature but oneself also, and then one -feels happy. I am now in such a state, and with characteristic -egotism hasten to write to you of things that interest only me. -When I review things sanely, I know very well that I am an -old, frozen little potato, and one already boiled with sauce; but -spring so acts on me that I sometimes catch myself in the full -blaze of imagining myself a plant which with others has only -now blossomed, and which will peacefully, simply and joyfully -grow in God's world. The result is that at this time of year, -such an internal clearing-out goes on in me, such a cleansing -and ordering, as only those who have experienced this feeling -can imagine. All the old—away! All worldly conventions, -all idleness, all egotism, all vices, all confused indefinite attachments, -all regrets, even repentances—away with you all!... -Make room for the wonderful little flowers whose buds are -swelling and growing with the spring!...</p> - -<p>After much more he concludes:</p> - -<p class="i2">Farewell, dear Grandma, do not be angry with me for this -nonsense, but answer with a word of wisdom, imbued with kindness, -Christian kindness! I have long wished to say that for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -you it is pleasanter to write French, and I understand feminine -thoughts better in French.</p> - -<p>In April he was again at Yásnaya where, in spite of -repeated visits to Moscow, he spent most of the summer. -There was at this time no railway from Moscow southward -to Toúla; and the serfs' belief concerning the new telegraph -posts which stood by the side of the highroad, was -that when the wire had been completed, 'Freedom' would -be sent along it from Petersburg. Even Tatiána Alexándrovna -Érgolsky did not understand these new-fangled -things, and, when driving along the road one day, asked -Tolstoy to explain how letters were written by telegraph. -He told her as simply as he could how the telegraphic -apparatus works, and received the reply: '<i>Oui, oui, je comprends, -mon cher!</i>' How much she had really understood -was however shown half an hour later when, after keeping -her eye on the wire all that time, she inquired: 'But how -is it, <i>mon cher Léon</i>, that during a whole half-hour I have -not seen a single letter go along the telegraph?'</p> - -<p>Fet and his wife used to stay a day or two at Yásnaya -when journeying to and from Moscow, and Fet's account -of Aunt Tatiána accords with Tolstoy's own affectionate -recollections of that lady. Fet says that he and his wife -'made the acquaintance of Tolstoy's charming old aunt, -Tatiána Alexándrovna Érgolsky, who received us with that -old-world affability which puts one at once at one's ease -on entering a new house. She did not devote herself to -memories of times long past, but lived fully in the present.'</p> - -<p>Speaking of them all by their pet names, she mentioned -that 'Seryózhenka Tolstoy had gone to his home at Pirogóvo, -but Nikólenka would probably stay a bit longer in -Moscow with Máshenka, but Lyóvotchka's friend Dyákof -had recently visited them,' and so on.</p> - -<p>Many years later, Tolstoy jotted down his memories of -the long autumn and winter evenings spent with Aunt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -Tatiána to which, he says, he owed his best thoughts and -impulses. He would sit in his arm-chair reading, thinking, -and occasionally listening to her kindly and gentle conversation -with two of the servants: Natálya Petróvna (an -old woman who lived there not because she was of much -use, but because she had nowhere else to live) and a maid -Doúnetchka.</p> - -<p class="i2">The chief charm of that life lay in the absence of any -material care; in good relations with those nearest—relations no -one could spoil; and in the leisureliness and the unconsciousness -of flying time....</p> - -<p class="i2">When, after living badly at a neighbour's in Toúla, with cards, -gipsies, hunting, and stupid vanity, I used to return home and -come to her, by old habit we would kiss each other's hand, -I her dear energetic hand, and she my dirty, vicious hand; and -also by old habit, we greeted one another in French, and I -would joke with Natálya Petróvna, and would sit down in the -comfortable arm-chair. She knew well all I had been doing -and regretted it, but never reproached me, retaining always the -same gentleness and love.... I was once telling her how some -one's wife had gone away with another man, and I said the -husband ought to be glad to be rid of her. And suddenly my -aunt lifted her eyebrows and said, as a thing long decided in -her mind, that that would be wrong of the husband, because it -would completely ruin the wife. After that she told me of a -drama that had occurred among the serfs. Then she re-read a -letter from my sister Máshenka, whom she loved if not more, -at least as much as she loved me, and she spoke of Másha's -husband (her own nephew) not to condemn him, but with grief -for the sorrow he inflicted on Máshenka.... The chief characteristic -of her life, which involuntarily infected me, was her -wonderful, general kindliness to every one without exception. -I try to recall a single instance of her being angry, or speaking -a sharp word, or condemning any one, and I cannot recall one -such instance in the course of thirty years. She spoke well -of our real aunt, who had bitterly hurt her by taking us away -from her.... As to her kindly treatment of the servants—that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -goes without saying. She had grown up in the idea that -there are masters and servants, but she utilised her authority -only to serve them.... She never blamed me directly for my -evil life, though she suffered on my account. My brother -Sergéy, too, whom also she loved warmly, she did not reproach -even when he took a gipsy girl to live with him. The only -shade of disquietude she showed on our account was that, when -he was very late in returning home, she would say: 'What has -become of our Sergius?' Only <i>Sergius</i> instead of <i>Seryósha</i>.... -She never told us in words how to live, never preached to us. -All her moral work was done internally; externally one only -saw her deeds—and not even deeds: there were no deeds; but -all her life, peaceful, sweet, submissive and loving, not troubled -or self-satisfied, but a life of quiet, unobtrusive love.... Her -affectionateness and tranquillity made her society noticeably -attractive and gave a special charm to intimacy with her. I -know of no case where she offended any one, and of no one who -did not love her. She never spoke of herself, never of religion -or of what we ought to believe, or of how she believed or -prayed. She believed everything, except that she rejected one -dogma—that of eternal torment. '<i>Dieu, qui est la bonté męme, -ne peut pas vouloir nos souffrances.</i>'<a name="FNanchor_38" id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a>... She often called me by -my father's name (Nicholas) and this pleased me very much, -because it showed that her conceptions of me and of my father -mingled in her love of us both.</p> - -<p class="i2">It was not her love for me alone that was joyous. What was -joyous was the atmosphere of love to all who were present or -absent, alive or dead, and even to animals....</p> - -<p>After telling of her goodness and her affection Tolstoy -says in his Memoirs that, though he appreciated his happiness -with her, he did not at the time nearly realise its full -value; and he adds:</p> - -<p class="i2">She was fond of keeping sweets: figs, gingerbreads and dates, -in various jars in her room. I cannot forget, nor remember -without a cruel pang of remorse, that I repeatedly refused her -money she wanted for such things and how she, sighing sadly, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -remained silent. It is true I was in need of money, but I -cannot now remember without horror that I refused her.</p> - -<p>Again in another place, after mentioning her self-devotion, -he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">And it was to her, to her, that I refused the small pleasure -of having figs and chocolate (and not so much for herself as to -treat me) and of being able to give a trifle to those who begged -of her.... Dear, dear Aunty, forgive me! <i>Si jeunesse savait, -si vieillesse pouvait</i> [if youth but knew, if age but could], I mean -not in the sense of the good lost for oneself in youth, but in the -sense of the good not given and the evil done to those who are -no more.</p> - -<p>Of Leo's life at Yásnaya at this time, his brother -Nicholas gave Fet the following humorous account:</p> - -<p class="i2">Lyóvotchka is zealously trying to become acquainted with -peasant life and with farming, of both of which, like the rest of -us, he has till now had but a superficial knowledge. But I am -not sure what sort of acquaintance will result from his efforts: -Lyóvotchka wants to get hold of everything at once, without -omitting anything—even his gymnastics. So he has rigged -up a bar under his study window. And of course, apart from -prejudice, with which he wages such fierce war, he is right: -gymnastics do not interfere with farming; but the steward sees -things differently and says, 'One comes to the master for orders, -and he hangs head downward in a red jacket, holding on by -one knee to a perch, and swings himself. His hair hangs down -and blows about, the blood comes to his face, and one does not -know whether to listen to his orders or to be astonished at him!'</p> - -<p class="i2">Lyóvotchka is delighted with the way the serf Ufán sticks -out his arms when ploughing; and so Ufán has become for him -an emblem of village strength, like the legendary Michael; and -he himself, sticking his elbows out wide, takes to the plough -and 'Ufanizes.'</p> - -<p>In May 1858 Tolstoy wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dearest little Uncle</span> [as we might say, Dear old Boy]!—I -write two words merely to say that I embrace you with all my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -might, have received your letter, kiss the hand of Márya Petróvna -[Fet's wife] and make obeisance to you all. Aunty thanks -you very much for your message and bows to you, so also does -my sister. What a wonderful spring it has been and is! I, in -solitude, have tasted it admirably. Brother Nicholas must be -at Nikólsk. Catch him and do not let him go. I want to come -to see you this month. Tourgénef has gone to Winzig till -August to cure his bladder.</p> - -<p class="i2">Devil take him. I am tired of loving him. He deserts us, -and won't cure his bladder.</p> - -<p class="i2">Now good-bye, dear friend. If you have no poem ready -for me by the time I come, I shall proceed to squeeze one -out of you.—Your</p> - -<p class="i2 rightm"><span class="smcap">Count L. Tolstoy</span>.</p> - -<p>Another letter to Fet runs:</p> - -<p class="i2">Ay, old fellow, ahoy! First, you give no sign, though it is -spring and you know we are all thinking of you, and that I, -like Prometheus, am bound to a rock, yet thirst for sight or -sound of you. You should either come, or at least send us a -proper invitation. Secondly, you have retained my brother, -and a very good brother, surnamed 'Firdusi' [an allusion to -Nicholas's Oriental wisdom]. The chief culprit in this matter, -I suspect, is Márya Petróvna, to whom I humbly bow, requesting -her to return us our own brother. Jesting apart, he bids -me let you know that he will be here next week. Drouzhínin -will also come, so mind you come too, old fellow.</p> - -<p>The first record of any participation by Tolstoy in -political affairs relates to the preparations for the Emancipation -of the serfs. Immediately after the conclusion of -the Crimean war Alexander II, addressing the Marshals -of the Nobility, in Moscow, had said: 'The existing -manner of possessing serfs cannot remain unchanged. It -is better to abolish serfdom from above than to await the -time when it will begin to abolish itself from below. I -request you, gentlemen, to consider how this can be done, -and to submit my words to the Nobility for their consideration.' -Some time passed without any definite response -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -to this appeal, and meanwhile the Polish nobility -of the Lithuanian Provinces, dissatisfied with certain regulations -enacted in the previous reign, incautiously asked to -have them revised. The Government grasped the opportunity, -and treating this as the expression of a wish for -Emancipation, replied that 'the abolition of serfdom must -be effected not suddenly, but gradually,' and authorised -the Nobility to form Committees for the preparation of -definite projects to that end. Four days later the Minister -of the Interior, acting on secret orders from the Emperor, -sent a circular to all the Governors and Marshals of the -Nobility in Russia proper, stating that the Lithuanian -nobles 'had recognised the necessity of liberating the -peasants,' and that 'this noble intention' had afforded -peculiar satisfaction to His Majesty, and explaining the -principles to be observed in case the nobles of other -Provinces should express a similar desire. A few weeks -later the Emperor publicly expressed a hope that, with the -co-operation of his nobles, the work of Emancipation -would be successfully accomplished. It therefore became -quite evident that, whether the nobles liked it or not, -Emancipation was at hand; since the Emperor had, at -last, definitely ranged himself on the side of the Emancipationists. -By accepting the invitation to co-operate in the -preparation of the scheme, there appeared to be a chance -that the nobles might so shape the measure that their -interests would not suffer; and consequently, during 1858, -a Committee was chosen in almost every Province of Central -Russia. Among the rest a Meeting of the Nobility of the -Government of Toúla was fixed for the first of September, to -elect Deputies to the Committee for the Improvement of the -Condition of the Peasants. Tolstoy attended this meeting, -and together with one hundred and four fellow-nobles signed -a document stating that 'with the object of improving the -condition of the peasants, preserving the property of the -landowners, and securing the safety of both the one and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -the other, we consider it necessary that the peasants should -be liberated not otherwise than with an allotment of a -certain amount of land in hereditary possession, and that -the landowners should receive for the land they give up, -full, equitable, pecuniary recompense by means of such -financial measures as will not entail any obligatory relations -between peasants and proprietors,—relations which -the Nobility consider it necessary to terminate.'</p> - -<p>There is no indication that Tolstoy took any prominent -part in this meeting; and the resolution just quoted, while -approving of Emancipation, seems to attach at least equal -importance to securing full compensation for the landowners. -Explain it how one may, the fact remains that -while the <i>Contemporary</i>, and all that was progressive in -Russian literature, was preoccupied with the effort to help -to shape the reforms so that they might really attain the -ends aimed at, Tolstoy almost retired from the scene, and -hardly appeared aware of the movement going on around -him. The battle for freedom was fought in the press by -Tchernyshévsky, Kosheléf, and N. Samárin, by Herzen, and -by many others, including Nekrásof and Saltykóf; and -Tolstoy's indifference helps to explain the fact, already -alluded to, that during these years the critics ignored -him, though his artistic power continued to increase. His -friend Fet also took no part in the Emancipation movement; -being in fact rather opposed to it.</p> - -<p>On 24th October 1858 Tolstoy writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">To write stories is stupid and shameful. To write verses—well, -write them; but to love a good man is very pleasant. -Yet perhaps, against my will and intention, not I, but an -unripe story inside me, compels me to love you. It sometimes -seems like that. Do what one will amid the manure and the -mange, one somehow begins to compose. Thank heaven, I -have not yet allowed myself to write, and will not do so.... -Thank you exceedingly for your trouble about a veterinary. I -have found one in Toúla and have begun the cure, but I do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -not know what will come of it.—And, may the devil take them -all,—Drouzhínin is appealing to me as a matter of friendship -to write a story. I really want to. I will spin such a yarn -that there will be no head or tail to it.... But joking apart, -how is your Hafiz getting on? [Fet was translating some -poems by Hafiz.] Turn it which way you will, the height of -wisdom and fortitude for me is to enjoy the poetry of others, -and not to let my own in ugly garb loose among men, but to -consume it myself with my daily bread. But at times one -suddenly wishes to be a great man, and it is so annoying that -this has not yet come about! One even hurries to get up -quicker or to finish dinner in order to begin.... Send me a -poem, the healthiest of those you have translated from Hafiz, -<i>me faire venir l'eau ŕ la bouche</i>,<a name="FNanchor_39" id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> and I will send you a sample of -wheat. Hunting has bored me to death. The weather is -excellent, but I do not hunt alone.</p> - -<p>In company, Tolstoy was however a keen sportsman, -and in December 1858 nearly lost his life while out -bear-shooting. He has told the story, with some embellishments, -in one of the tales for children contained -in the volume. <i>Twenty-three Tales</i>.<a name="FNanchor_40" id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> The real facts were -these:</p> - -<p>Tolstoy and his brother Nicholas had made the acquaintance -of S. S. Gromeka, a well-known publicist who shared -their fondness for hunting—a sport very different in Russia -from what it is in England, as readers of Tolstoy's descriptions -well know.</p> - -<p>Gromeka having heard that a she-bear with two young -ones had her lair in the forest near the railway at Volotchók, -half-way between Petersburg and Moscow, arranged -matters with the peasants of that locality, and invited the -Tolstoys and other guests to a hunt. The invitation was -accepted, and on 21st December Leo Tolstoy shot a bear. -On 22nd the members of the party, each armed with two -guns, were placed at the ends of cuttings running through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -the forest in which the big she-bear had been surrounded. -These paths or cuttings divided the wood like the lines -of a chess-board. Peasants employed as beaters were -stationed to prevent the animal escaping except by -approaching one or other of the sportsmen. Ostáshkof, a -famous professional huntsman, supervised the proceedings. -The guests were advised to stamp down the snow around -them, so as to give themselves room to move freely; but -Tolstoy (with his usual objection to routine methods) -argued that as they were out to shoot the bear and not -to box with her, it was useless to tread down the snow. -He therefore stood with his two-barrelled gun in his hand, -surrounded by snow almost up to his waist.</p> - -<p>Tile bear, roused by the shouts of Ostáshkof, rushed -down a cutting directly towards one of the other sportsmen; -but, perceiving him, she suddenly swerved from her -course and took a cross path which brought her out on to -the cutting leading straight to Tolstoy. He, not expecting -her visit, did not fire until the beast was within -six yards, and his first shot missed. The bear was only -two yards from him when his second shot hit her in the -mouth. It failed to stop her rush, and she knocked -Tolstoy over on to his back in the snow. Carried past -him at first by her own impetus, the bear soon returned; -and the next thing Tolstoy knew was that he was -being weighed down by something heavy and warm, and -he then felt that his face was being drawn into the -beast's mouth. He could only offer a passive resistance, -by drawing down his head as much as possible between -his shoulders and trying to present his cap instead of his -face to the bear's teeth. This state of things lasted only -a few seconds, yet long enough for the bear, after one -or two misses, to get her teeth into the flesh above -and below his left eye. At this moment Ostáshkof, -armed with a small switch, came running up, shouting: -'Where are you getting to? Where are you getting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -to?' At which the beast promptly took fright, and -rushed off. Next day she was followed up and killed. -Owing to the amount of blood and torn flesh, Tolstoy's -wound at first appeared serious; but when it had been -washed with snow, and he had been taken to the nearest -town and had had it sewn up, it turned out to be superficial. -He long retained a very noticeable scar however as -a memento of the encounter; and the bear's skin may still -be seen at Yásnaya.</p> - -<p><i>Family Happiness</i>, written partly in 1858, was published -early in 1859. It grew out of the unsuccessful love affair -mentioned in the last chapter, and is Tolstoy's imaginative -description of what might have been.</p> - - -<h3>1859</h3> - -<p>The first months of 1859 he spent in Moscow, and here -on the occasion of joining the Moscow Society of Lovers -of Russian Literature, on 4th February, he for the -first time made a public speech: a task for which, -he once told me, he had no aptitude, and which he much -disliked. He wrote it out, and it was to have appeared in -the Proceedings of the Society, but for some reason never -got printed. Its subject was 'The Supremacy of the -Artistic Element in Literature,' and in it he maintained -a position almost the opposite of the one he advocated so -ardently and with such full conviction in <i>What is Art?</i> -forty years later.</p> - -<p>He was answered by the Slavophil A. S. Homyakóf, -who presided at the meeting, and who in the course of -his remarks said:</p> - -<p class="i2">Allow me to remark that the justice of the opinion you have -so skilfully stated is far from destroying the legitimacy of the -temporary and exceptional side of literature. That which is -always right, that which is always beautiful, that which is as -unalterable as the most fundamental laws of the soul, undoubtedly -holds, and should hold, the first place in the thoughts, -the impulses, and therefore in the speech of man. It, and it -alone, will be handed on by generation to generation and by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -nation to nation as a precious inheritance. But on the other -hand, in the nature of man and of society there is continual -need for self-indictment. There are moments, moments important -in history, when that self-indictment acquires a special -and indefeasible right, and manifests itself in literature with -great definiteness and keenness....</p> - -<p class="i2">The rights of literature, the servant of eternal beauty, do not -destroy the rights of the literature of indictment, which always -accompanies social deficiencies and sometimes appears as the -healer of social evils....</p> - -<p class="i2">Of course, Art is perfectly free: it finds its justification and -its aim in itself. But the freedom of Art in the abstract, has -nothing to do with the inner life of the artist. An artist is -not a theory—a sphere of thought and mental activity—but a -man, and always a man of his own times, usually its best -representative, completely imbued with its spirit and its defined -or nascent aspirations. By the very impressionability of his -nature, without which he could not be an artist, he, even more -than others, receives all the painful as well as joyous sensations -of the society to which he is born....</p> - -<p class="i2">So the writer, a servant of pure art, sometimes becomes an -accuser even unconsciously, and despite his own will. I allow -myself, Count, to cite you as an example. You consciously -follow a definite road faithfully and undeviatingly; but are you -really completely alien to the literature of indictment? Were -it but in the picture of a consumptive post-boy, dying on top -of a stove amid a crowd of comrades apparently indifferent to -his sufferings [this refers to <i>Three Deaths</i>] have you not indicated -some social disease, some evil? When describing that -death, is it possible that you did not suffer from the horny -indifference of good but unawakened human souls? Yes, you -too have been and will be an involuntary indicter!</p> - -<p>This question of the true position of literary art and -its relation to the rest of life, was one which occupied -Tolstoy for many years, and on which before the century -closed he expressed himself in a book which must be -reckoned with by all who may hereafter deal with the subject. -The attitude he maintained at the time he entered -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -the Society of Lovers of Russian Literature, was in striking -contrast with that of the Slavophils, such as Homyakóf, -and of the great majority of the leading Russian writers -of that day, who were fired with the hope of Emancipation, -just as in America at the same time, Lowell, Emerson, -Whittier, Thoreau, Walt Whitman, Longfellow, Channing, -Lloyd Garrison, and others, were stirred by the Anti-Slavery -movement.</p> - -<p>In April Tolstoy went to Petersburg and spent ten -days very pleasantly with his aunt the Countess A. A. -Tolstoy. By the end of the month he was back at Yásnaya. -In July, Tourgénef, from France, wrote Fet a long letter in -blank verse, a few lines of which indicate the relation between -Leo Tolstoy and himself at this time:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">'Kiss Nicholas Tolstoy on my behalf</div> -<div class="line">And to his brother Leo make my bow,</div> -<div class="line">—As to his sister also.</div> -<div class="line">He rightly says in his postscriptum:</div> -<div class="line">"There is no cause" for me to write to him,</div> -<div class="line">Indeed, I know he bears me little love</div> -<div class="line">And I love him as little. Too differently</div> -<div class="line">Are mixed those elements of which we're formed.'</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<h3>1859-1860</h3> - -<p>During this winter Tolstoy devoted much time to an -attempt to organise schools on and near his estate. The -education of its peasant children was one of the -things Russia most needed, and most terribly -neglected. Tolstoy recognised this, and set himself strenuously -and eagerly to show how the great need could be met. -The work he did at this time was, however, only preliminary -to what he undertook after his next visit to Western -Europe, and he was far from being mentally at peace. At -the commencement of the New Year he noted in his Diary: -'The burden of the estate, the burden of bachelor life, and -all sorts of doubts and pessimistic feelings agitate my -mind.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -One mention of the serfs (who were now nearing freedom) -occurs in a letter Tolstoy wrote to Fet on 23rd -February 1860, in reply to a note in which the latter had -expressed a wish to buy an estate, settle down in the -country, and devote himself to farming. Tolstoy replies that -there is an estate for sale adjoining his own, containing:</p> - -<p class="i2">Four hundred desyatíns of good land with, unfortunately, -seventy souls of bad serfs. But that does not matter; they -will gladly pay quit-rent [in lieu of personal service] as mine -do, at the rate of Rs. 30 a <i>tyaglo</i> [man and wife with an allotment -of land] or Rs. 660 for the twenty-two <i>tyaglos</i>, and you -will get not less than that, if not more, at the Emancipation, -and will have sufficient unexhausted land and meadow left -to yield about Rs. 2000 a year, or over Rs. 2600 in all. The -price asked for the estate is Rs. 24,000, besides a mortgage -of about Rs. 5000.... At any rate it would be a good bargain -to buy it for Rs. 20,000.... The seller is an old man who is -ruined, and wants to sell it quickly in order to get rid of his -son-in-law. He has twice sent to offer it me. The above -calculation shows what the estate should yield in a couple of -years' time if about Rs. 5000 be spent on improving it; but -even in its present condition one can answer for a return of -Rs. 1500, which is more than 7 per cent. on the cost.</p> - -<p>In Russia to buy serfs was not then considered more discreditable -than it is in England to-day to buy shares in a -china or match factory; and in the same letter Tolstoy -goes on to discuss literature:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have read Tourgénef's <i>On the Eve</i>. This is my opinion: -to write novels is undesirable, especially for people who are -depressed and do not well know what they want from life. -However, <i>On the Eve</i> is much better than <i>A Nest of Gentlefolk</i>, -and there are in it excellent negative characters: the artist and -the father. The rest are not types; even their conception, -their position, is not typical, or they are quite insignificant. -That however is always Tourgénef's mistake. The girl is hopelessly -bad: 'Ah, how I love thee ... her eyelashes were long.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -In general it always surprises me that Tourgénef, with his -mental powers and poetic sensibility, should even in his -methods not be able to refrain from banality. This banality -shows itself most of all in his negative methods, which recall -Gógol. There is no humanity or sympathy for the characters, -but the author exhibits monsters whom he scolds and does not -pity. This jars painfully with the tone and intention of -Liberalism in everything else. It was all very well in the days -of Tsar Goroh [a character in a fairy story] or of Gógol (though -if one does not pity even the most insignificant of one's characters, -one should scold them so that the heavens grow hot, or -laugh at them so that one's sides split, and not as our splenetic -and dyspeptic Tourgénef does). On the whole, however, there -is now no one else who could write such a novel, though it will -not meet with success.</p> - -<p class="i2">Ostróvsky's <i>The Storm</i> is, in my opinion, a wretched work, but -will be successful. Not Ostróvsky and Tourgénef are to blame, -but the times.... Something else is now needed: not that -we should learn and criticise, but that we should teach Jack -and Jill at least a little of what we know.</p> - -<p>This letter to Fet, who was in Moscow, ends with requests -to procure some books, including a veterinary handbook, -a veterinary instrument, and a lancet for use on -human beings; to see about procuring six ploughs of a -special make, and to find out the price of clover and -timothy-grass, of which Tolstoy had some to sell.</p> - - -<h3>1860</h3> - -<p>At this time Tolstoy worked at his story <i>The Cossacks</i>, -the plan of which he had sketched out in 1852, -but which he did not complete till 1862.</p> - -<p>One comes across notes in his Diary which indicate his -state of mind at this period with regard to religion. After -reading a book on Materialism he notes:</p> - -<p class="i2">I thought of prayer. To what can one pray? What is God, -imagined so clearly that one can ask him to communicate with -us? If I imagine such an one, he loses all grandeur for me. -A God whom one can beseech and whom one can serve—is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -expression of mental weakness. He is God, because I cannot -grasp his being. Indeed, he is not a Being, but a Law and -a Force.</p> - -<p>He was a great puzzle to his friends and acquaintances—always -ready to take his own line strenuously, yet sometimes -far from sure what that line was. Tourgénef wrote -to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">Leo Tolstoy continues his eccentricities. Evidently it was so -decreed at his birth. When will he turn his last somersault and -stand on his feet?</p> - -<p>The fact that Tolstoy, like his friend Fet, was neglecting -literature did not fail to call forth many remonstrances, -one of the most urgent of which came to him from Drouzhínin, -who wrote:</p> - -<p class="i2">Every writer has his moments of doubt and self-dissatisfaction, -and however strong and legitimate this feeling may be, -no one on that account has yet ceased his connection with -literature; every one goes on writing to the end. But all -tendencies, good or bad, cling to you with peculiar obstinacy; -so that you, more than others, need to think of this and to consider -the whole matter amicably.</p> - -<p class="i2">First of all, remember that after poetry and mental labour -all other work seems worthless. <i>Qui a bu, boira</i>; and at the -age of thirty to tear oneself away from authorship means losing -half the interest of life. But that is only half the matter; -there is something still more important.</p> - -<p class="i2">On all of us lies a responsibility rooted in the immense -importance of literature to Russian society. An Englishman or -an American may laugh at the fact that in Russia not merely -men of thirty, but grey-haired owners of 2000 serfs sweat -over stories of a hundred pages, which appear in the magazines, -are devoured by everybody, and arouse discussion in society -for a whole day. However much artistic quality may have to -do with this result, you cannot explain it merely by Art. What -in other lands is a matter of idle talk and careless dilettantism, -with us is quite another affair. Among us things have taken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -such shape that a story—the most frivolous and insignificant -form of literature—becomes one of two things: either it is -rubbish, or else it is the voice of a leader sounding throughout -the Empire. For instance, we all know Tourgénef's weakness, -but a whole ocean divides the most insignificant of his stories -from the very best of Mrs. Eugene Tour's, with her half-talent. -By some strange instinct the Russian public has chosen from -among the crowd of writers four or five bell-men whom it -values as leaders, refusing to listen to any qualifications or -deductions. You—partly by talent, partly by the practical -qualities of your soul, and partly owing simply to a concurrence -of fortunate circumstances—have stepped into this favourable -relation with the public. On that account you must not go -away and hide, but must work, even to the exhaustion of your -strength and powers. That is one side of the matter; but here -is another. You are a member of a literary circle that is -honourable (as far as may be), independent, and influential; -and which for ten years, amid persecutions and misfortunes, -and notwithstanding its members' vices, has firmly upheld the -banner of all that is Liberal and enlightened, and has borne all -this weight of abuse without committing one mean action. In -spite of the world's coldness and ignorance and its contempt -for literature, this circle is rewarded with honour and moral -influence. Of course, there are in it insignificant and even -stupid homunculi; but even they play a part in the general -union, and have not been useless. In that circle you again, -though you arrived but recently, have a place and a voice such -as Ostróvsky for instance does not possess, though he has -immense talent and his moral tendency is as worthy as -your own. Why this has happened it would take too -long to analyse, nor is it to the point. If you tear yourself -off from the circle of writers and become inactive, you -will be dull, and will deprive yourself of an important rôle -in society....</p> - -<p>At this time the state of health of his brother Nicholas—who -(like Demetrius) had consumptive tendencies—began -to disturb Leo Tolstoy. It was arranged that Nicholas -should go to Germany for a cure. The following letter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -written by Leo Tolstoy to Fet, after Nicholas had started, -refers to this and other matters:</p> - -<p class="i2">... You are a writer and remain a writer, and God speed -you. But that, besides this, you wish to find a spot where you -can dig like an ant, is an idea which has come to you and which -you must carry out, and carry out better than I have done. -You must do it because you are both a good man and one who -looks at life healthily.... However, it is not for me now to -deal out to you approval or disapproval with an air of authority. -I am greatly at sixes and sevens with myself. Farming on the -scale on which it is carried out on my estate, crushes me. To -'Ufanize'<a name="FNanchor_41" id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> is a thing I only see afar off. Family affairs, -Nicholas's illness (of which we have as yet no news from -abroad) and my sister's departure (she leaves me in three days' -time) also crush and occupy me. Bachelor life, <i>i.e.</i> not having -a wife, and the thought that it is getting too late, torments me -from a third side. In general, everything is now out of tune -with me. On account of my sister's helplessness and my wish -to see Nicholas, I shall at any rate procure a foreign passport -to-morrow, and perhaps I shall accompany my sister abroad; -especially if we do not receive news, or receive bad news, from -Nicholas. How much I would give to see you before leaving, -how much I want to tell you and to hear from you; but it is -now hardly possible. Yet if this letter reaches you quickly, -remember that we leave Yásnaya on Thursday or more probably -on Friday.</p> - -<p class="i2">Now as to farming: The price they ask of you is not exorbitant, -and if the place pleases you, you should buy it. -Only why do you want so much land? I have learned by three -years' experience that with all imaginable diligence it is impossible -to grow cereals profitably or pleasantly on more than 60 or -70 desyatíns [160 to 190 acres] that is, on about 15 desyatíns in -each of four fields. Only in that way can one escape trembling -for every omission (for then one ploughs not twice but three or -four times) and for every hour a peasant misses, and for every -extra rouble-a-month one pays him; for one can bring 15 desy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>atíns -to the point of yielding 30 to 40 per cent. on the -fixed and working capital; but with 80 or 100 desyatíns under -plough one cannot do so. Please do not let this advice slip -past your ears; it is not idle talk, but a result of experience I -have had to pay for. Any one who tells you differently is either -lying or ignorant. More than that, even with 15 desyatíns an -all-absorbing industry is necessary. But then one can gain -a reward—one of the pleasantest life gives; whereas with 90 -desyatíns one has to labour like a post-horse, with no possibility -of success. I cannot find sufficient words to scold myself for -not having written to you sooner—in which case you would -surely have come to see us. Now farewell.</p> - -<p>Things meanwhile were not going very well with -Nicholas, who wrote from Soden in Hesse-Nassau:</p> - -<p class="i2">In Soden we joined Tourgénef, who is alive and well—so -well that he himself confesses that he is 'quite' well. He has -found some German girl and goes into ecstasies about her. We -(this relates to our dearest Tourgénef) play chess together, but -somehow it does not go as it should: he is thinking of his -German girl, and I of my cure.... I shall probably stay in -Soden for at least six weeks. I do not describe my journey -because I was ill all the time.</p> - -<p>Eventually Leo Tolstoy made up his mind to accompany -his sister and her children abroad, and on 3rd July (old -style) they took steamer from Petersburg for Stettin <i>en -route</i> for Berlin. Besides anxiety on his brother's account, -Tolstoy had another reason for going abroad: he wished -to study the European systems of education, in order to -know what had been accomplished in the line to which he -now intended to devote himself.</p> - -<p>On reaching Berlin he suffered from toothache for four -days, and decided to remain there while his sister proceeded -to join Nicholas at Soden. He consulted a doctor, -as he was suffering also from headache and hemorrhoidal -attacks, and he was ordered to take a cure at Kissingen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -He only stayed a few days in Berlin after getting rid of his -toothache, and left on 14th July (old style), having however -found time to attend lectures on History by Droysen, -and on Physics and Physiology by Du Bois-Reymond, and -having also visited some evening classes for artisans at the -<i>Handwerksverein</i>, where he was greatly interested in the -popular lectures, and particularly in the system of 'question-boxes.' -The method of arousing the interest of the -audience by allowing them to propound questions for the -lecturer to reply to, was new to him, and he was struck by -the life it brought into the classes, and by the freedom of -mental contact between scholars and teacher. He noticed -the same thing when he was in London a few months later, -for he told me that nothing he saw there interested him -more than a lecture he attended in South Kensington, at -which questions were put by working men, and answered -by a speaker who was master of his subject and knew how -to popularise it.</p> - -<p>In Berlin he visited the Moabit Prison, in which solitary -confinement was practised. Tolstoy strongly disapproved -of this mechanical attempt to achieve moral reformation. -From Berlin he went to Leipzig, where he spent a day -inspecting schools; but he derived little satisfaction from -the Saxon schools he visited, as is indicated by a remark -he jotted down in his Diary, 'Have been in school—terrible. -Prayers for the King, blows, everything by rote, frightened, -paralysed children....' He then proceeded to Dresden, -where he called on the novelist Auerbach, whose story, <i>Ein -Neues Leben</i> (<i>A New Life</i>), had much influenced him. The -chief character in that story is Count Fulkenberg, who after -being an officer in the army, gets into trouble, escapes -from prison, buys the passport of a school-master, Eugene -Baumann, and under that name devotes himself to the -task of educating peasant children. When Auerbach -entered the room in which his visitor was waiting, the latter -introduced himself with the words: 'I am Eugene<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -Baumann,' in such solemn tones and with so morose an -appearance, that the German writer was taken aback and -feared that he was about to be threatened with an action -for libel. Tolstoy however hastened to add: '—not in -name, but in character—' and went on to explain how -good an effect Auerbach's <i>Schwarzwälder Dorfgeschichten</i> -(<i>Village Tales of the Black Forest</i>) had had on him.</p> - -<p>After three days in Dresden, he went on to Kissingen, -which was in those days about five hours' journey from -Soden, where Nicholas was staying. Still intent on his -educational inquiries, he read <i>en route</i> a history of -pedagogics.</p> - -<p>From Kissingen he wrote his Aunt Tatiána that he -thought the cure was doing him good, and added:</p> - -<p class="i2">Tell the steward to write me most minutely about the -farming, the harvest, the horses and their illness. Tell the -schoolmaster to write about the school: how many pupils come, -and whether they learn well. I shall certainly return in -autumn and intend to occupy myself more than ever with the -school, so I do not wish its reputation to be lost while I am -away, and I want as many pupils as possible from different -parts.</p> - -<p>While in Kissingen he read Bacon and Luther and -Riehl, and made the acquaintance of Julius Froebel, author -of <i>The System of Social Politics</i> and nephew of Froebel, -the founder of the Kindergarten system. Julius Froebel -was himself much interested in educational matters, and -was a particularly suitable person to explain his uncle's -ideas to Tolstoy.</p> - -<p>The latter astonished his new acquaintance, with whom -he used to go for walks, by the uncompromising rigidity -of his views, which showed a considerable tinge of Slavophilism. -Progress in Russia, declared Tolstoy, must be -based on popular education, which would give better -results in Russia than in Germany, because the Russian -people were still unperverted, whereas the Germans were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -like children who had for years been subjected to a bad -education. Popular education should not be compulsory. -If it is a blessing, the demand for it should come naturally, -as the demand for food comes from hunger.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy visited the country round Kissingen, and travelling -northward through a part of Germany rich both in -scenery and in historic interest, reached Eisenach and -visited the Wartburg, where Luther was confined after the -Diet of Worms. The personality of the great Protestant -reformer interested Tolstoy greatly, and after seeing the -room in which Luther commenced his translation of the -Bible, he noted in his Diary: 'Luther was great'! -Twenty years later Tolstoy himself attempted to free the -minds of men from the yoke of an established Church, and -he too shaped his chief weapon against the Church by -translating, not, it is true, like Luther, the whole Bible, -but the Gospels.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Nicholas Tolstoy's health had been growing -worse rather than better. Sergius, having been unlucky -at roulette, decided to return to Russia, and visiting -Leo at Kissingen <i>en route</i>, told him of his fears for -Nicholas. On 9th August Sergius left Kissingen and -Nicholas himself arrived there to visit Leo, but soon -returned to Soden. Leo then spent a fortnight in the -Harz Mountain district, enjoying nature and reading a -great deal. On 26th August he rejoined Nicholas, his -sister and her children, at Soden. The doctors had decided -that Nicholas must winter in a warmer climate, and the -place decided on was Hyčres near Toulon, on the shores of -the Mediterranean.</p> - -<p>The first stage of the journey undertaken by the family -party was to Frankfurt-on-Main, where their aunt, the -Countess A. A. Tolstoy, was staying. She tells the -following story of Leo's visit to her on this occasion:</p> - -<p class="i2">One day Prince Alexander of Hesse and his wife were calling -on me, when suddenly the door of the drawing-room opened -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -and Leo appeared in the strangest garb, suggestive of a picture -of a Spanish bandit. I gasped with astonishment. Leo -apparently was not pleased with my visitors, and soon took his -departure.</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_42" id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a>'Qui est donc ce singulier personnage?' inquired my -visitors in astonishment.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Mais c'est Léon Tolstoy.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Ah, mon Dieu, pourquoi ne l'avez vous pas nommé? Aprčs -avoir lu ses admirables écrits, nous mourions d'envie de le voir,' -said they, reproachfully.</p> - -<p>From Frankfurt the party proceeded to Hyčres, where -Nicholas, growing rapidly worse and worse, died on 20th -September (new style).</p> - -<p>Few men have been so admired and loved as he was by all -who knew him. The only thing recorded against him is the -fact that when serving in the Caucasus he, like many of his -fellow-officers, gave way to some extent to intemperance; -but after returning home he recovered his self-control. I -have already told of his influence over Leo in the early -days of the Ant-Brotherhood, and of the green stick, -buried where Tolstoy himself wishes his body to lie. Such -influence he retained all through life, and men and women -of most different temperaments make equally enthusiastic -mention of his charm and goodness. That Leo's judgment -of what is good and bad has remained strongly influenced -by his love for and memory of Nicholas, is plain enough to -all who have the facts before them and read his works -attentively.</p> - -<p>Tourgénef once said:</p> - -<p class="i2">The humility which Leo Tolstoy developed theoretically, his -brother actually practised in life. He always lived in the most -impossible lodgings, almost hovels, somewhere in the out-of-the-way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -quarters of Moscow, and he willingly shared all he had -with the poorest outcast. He was a delightful companion and -narrator, but writing was to him almost a physical impossibility, -the actual process of writing being as difficult for him as for a -labourer whose stiff hands will not hold a pen.</p> - -<p>Nicholas did, however, as a matter of fact, contribute -some <i>Memoirs of a Sportsman</i> to the <i>Contemporary</i>.</p> - -<p>Never was any one's death more sincerely regretted. -This is the letter Leo wrote to Aunt Tatiána, the night the -event occurred.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Chčre Tante!</span>—The black seal will have told you all. What -I have been expecting from hour to hour for two weeks occurred -at nine o'clock this evening. Only since yesterday did he let me -help him undress, and to-day for the first time he definitely took -to his bed and asked for a nurse. He was conscious all the time, -and a quarter-of-an-hour before he died he drank some milk and -told me he was comfortable. Even to-day he still joked and -showed interest in my educational projects. Only a few -minutes before he died he whispered several times: 'My God, -my God!' It seems to me that he felt his position, but -deceived himself and us. Máshenka, only to-day, some four -hours before, had gone three miles out of Hyčres to where she -is living. She did not at all expect it to come so soon. I have -just closed his eyes. I shall now soon be back with you and -will tell you all personally. I do not intend to transport the -body. The funeral will be arranged by the Princess Golítsin, -who has taken it all on herself.</p> - -<p class="i2">Farewell, <i>chčre tante</i>. I cannot console you. It is God's -will—that is all. I am not writing to Seryózha now. He is -probably away hunting, you know where. So let him know, or -send him this letter.</p> - -<p>On the day after the funeral he wrote to Sergius:</p> - -<p class="i2">I think you have had news of the death of Nicholas. I am -sorry for you that you were not here. Hard as it is, I am glad -it all took place in my presence, and that it acted on me in the -right way—not like Mítenka's [his third brother, Demetrius] -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -death, of which I heard when I was not thinking at all about -him. However, this is quite different. With Mítenka only -memories of childhood and family feeling were bound up; but -this was a real man both to you and to me, whom we loved and -<i>respected</i> positively more than any one else on earth. You know -the selfish feeling which came latterly, that the sooner it was -over the better; it is dreadful now to write it and to remember -that one thought it. Till the last day, with his extraordinary -strength of character and power of concentration, he did everything -to avoid becoming a burden to me. On the day of his -death he dressed and washed himself, and in the morning I -found him dressed on his bed. Only about nine hours before -he died did he give way to his illness and ask to be undressed. -It first happened in the closet. I went downstairs, and heard -his door open. I returned and did not find him. At first I -feared to go to him—he used not to like it; but this time he -himself said, 'Help me!'</p> - -<p class="i2">And he submitted and became different that day, mild and -gentle. He did not groan, did not blame any one, praised -everybody, and said to me: 'Thank you, <i>my friend</i>.' You -understand what that meant between us. I told him I had -heard how he coughed in the morning, but did not come to -him from <i>fausse honte</i> [false shame]. 'Needlessly,' said he—'it -would have consoled me.' Suffering? He suffered; but it -was not until a couple of days before his death that he once said: -'How terrible these nights without sleep are! Towards morning -the cough chokes one, unendingly! And it hurts—God knows -how! A couple more such nights—it's terrible!' Not once -did he say plainly that he felt the approach of death. But he -only did not <i>say</i> it. On the day of his death he ordered a -dressing-gown, and yet when I remarked that if he did not -get better, Máshenka and I would not go to Switzerland, he -replied: 'Do you really think I shall be better?' in such a -tone that it was evident what he felt but for my sake did not -say, and what I for his sake did not show; all the same, from -the morning I knew what was coming, and was with him all -the time. He died quite without suffering—externally, at all -events. He breathed more and more slowly—and it was all -over. The next day I went to him and feared to uncover his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -face. I thought it would show yet more suffering and be more -terrible than during his illness; but you cannot imagine what -a beautiful face it was, with his best, merry, calm expression.</p> - -<p class="i2">Yesterday he was buried here. At one time I thought of -transporting him, and of telegraphing for you; but I reconsidered -it. It is no use chafing the wound. I am sorry for you -that the news will have reached you out hunting, amid distractions, -and will not grip you as it does us. It is good for one. -I now feel what I have often been told, that when one loses -some one who was what he was to us, it becomes much easier to -think of one's own death.</p> - -<p>On 13th October 1860 he notes in his Diary:</p> - -<p class="i2">It is nearly a month since Nicholas died. That event has -torn me terribly from life. Again the question: Why? -Already the departure draws near. Whither? Nowhere. I -try to write, I force myself, but do not get on, because I -cannot attach enough importance to the work to supply the -necessary strength and patience. At the very time of the -funeral the thought occurred to me to write a Materialist -Gospel, a Life of Christ as a Materialist.</p> - -<p>One sees how bit by bit the seeds of the work Tolstoy -was to do in later years planted themselves in his mind. -In early childhood came the enthusiasm for the Ant-Brotherhood -and the influence of his brother, of Aunt -Tatiána, and of the pilgrims; then an acquaintance with -the writings of Voltaire and other sceptics, undermining -belief in the miraculous; then, in Sevastopol, the idea of -'founding a new religion: Christianity purged of dogmas -and mysticism'; then a study of Luther's Reformation, -and now the idea of a rationalist Life of Christ.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="p200"><img src="images/p200.jpg" width="300" -height="495" alt="" title="" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -Tolstoy in 1860, the year his brother -Nicholas died. -</div></div> - -<p>On 17th October Tolstoy writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I think you already know what has happened. On 20 -September he died, literally in my arms. Nothing in my life -has so impressed me. It is true, as he said, that nothing is -worse than death. And when one reflects well that yet <i>that</i> is -the end of all, then there is nothing worse than life. Why -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -strive or try, since of what was Nicholas Tolstoy nothing -remains his? He did not say that he felt the approach of -death, but I know he watched each step of its approach and -knew with certainty how much remained. Some moments -before his death he drowsed off, but awoke suddenly and -whispered with horror: 'What is that?' That was when he -saw it—the absorption of himself into Nothingness. And if he -found nothing to cling to, what can I find? Still less! And -assuredly neither I nor any one will fight it to the last moment, -as he did. Two days before, I said to him: 'We ought to put -a commode in your room.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'No,' said he, 'I am weak, but not yet so weak as that; I -will struggle on yet awhile.'</p> - -<p class="i2">To the last he did not yield, but did everything for himself, -and always tried to be occupied. He wrote, questioned me -about my writings, and advised me. But it seemed to me that -he did all this not from any inner impulse, but on principle. -One thing—his love of Nature—remained to the last. The -day before, he went into his bedroom and from weakness fell -on his bed by the open window. I came to him, and he said -with tears in his eyes, 'How I have enjoyed this whole hour.'</p> - -<p class="i2">From earth we come, and to the earth we go. One thing is -left—a dim hope that there, in Nature, of which we become -part in the earth, something will remain and will be found.</p> - -<p class="i2">All who knew and saw his last moments, say: 'How -wonderfully calmly, peacefully he died'; but I know with -what terrible pain, for not one feeling of his escaped me.</p> - -<p class="i2">A thousand times I say to myself: 'Let the dead bury their -dead.' One must make some use of the strength which -remains to one, but one cannot persuade a stone to fall -upwards instead of downwards whither it is drawn. One -cannot laugh at a joke one is weary of. One cannot eat when -one does not want to. And what is life all for, when to-morrow -the torments of death will begin, with all the abomination of -falsehood and self-deception, and will end in annihilation for -oneself? An amusing thing! Be useful, be beneficent, be -happy while life lasts,—say people to one another; but you, -and happiness, and virtue, and utility, consist of truth. And -the truth I have learned in thirty-two years is, that the posi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>tion -in which we are placed is terrible. 'Take life as it is; -you have put yourselves in that position.' How! I take life as -it is. As soon as man reaches the highest degree of development, -he sees clearly that it is all nonsense and deception, and -that the truth—which he still loves better than all else—is -terrible. That when you look at it well and clearly, you -wake with a start and say with terror, as my brother did: -'What is that?'</p> - -<p class="i2">Of course, so long as the desire to know and speak the truth -lasts, one tries to know and speak. That alone remains to me -of the moral world; higher than that I cannot place myself. -That alone I will do, but not in the form of your art. Art is -a lie, and I can no longer love a beautiful lie.</p> - -<p class="i2">I shall remain here for the winter because I am here, and it -is all the same where one lives. Please write to me. I love -you as my brother loved you, and he remembered you to his -last moment.</p> - -<p>A month later we find him writing in a different state -of mind:</p> - -<p class="i2">A boy of thirteen has died in torment from consumption. -What for? The only explanation is given by faith in the compensation -of a future life. If that does not exist, there is no -justice, and justice is vain, and the demand for justice—a -superstition.</p> - -<p class="i2">Justice forms the most essential demand of man to man. -And man looks for the same in his relation to the universe. -Without a future life it is lacking. Expediency is the sole, the -unalterable law of Nature, say the naturalists. But in the best -manifestations of man's soul: love and poetry—it is absent. -This has all existed and has died—often without expressing -itself. Nature, if her one law be expediency, far o'erstepped -her aim when she gave man the need of poetry and love.</p> - -<p>Nearly twenty years later, in his <i>Confession</i>, Tolstoy -referred to his brother's death in the words:</p> - -<p class="i2">Another event which showed me that the superstitious belief -in progress is insufficient as a guide to life, was my brother's -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -death. Wise, good, serious, he fell ill while still a young man, -suffered for more than a year and died painfully, not understanding -why he had lived, and still less why he had to die. -No theories could give me, or him, any reply to these questions -during his slow and painful dying.</p> - -<p>Any one who has read the works Tolstoy wrote during -the quarter of a century which succeeded his brother's -death, will be aware how long he remained in doubt on -this matter of a future life, and how he expressed now one, -and now another view.</p> - -<p>At Hyčres he continued to study the question of -education, and for that purpose made many visits to -Marseilles. He also wrote: continuing <i>The Cossacks</i> and -commencing an article on Popular Education. We get -a glimpse of him at this period from his sister, who tells -us that they had been invited to an At Home at Prince -Doundoukóf-Korsákof's; but Tolstoy, who was to have -been the lion of the occasion, failed to put in an appearance. -The company, which included all the 'best' people, -were getting dull, despite everything the hostess could -devise for their amusement, when at last, very late, Count -Tolstoy was announced. The hostess and her guests -immediately brightened up; but what was their astonishment -to see him appear in tourist garb and wearing -wooden <i>sabots</i>! He had been for a long walk, and returning -late, had come to the party without calling at his -lodgings; and no sooner was he in the room than he -began assuring everybody that wooden <i>sabots</i> were the very -best and most comfortable of foot-gear, and advising every -one to adopt them. Even in those days he was a man to -whom all things were allowed, and the evening, instead of -being spoilt, became all the gayer from his eccentricity. -There was a great deal of singing, and it fell to Tolstoy's -lot to accompany the singers.</p> - -<p>At Hyčres, after his brother's death, Tolstoy lived with -his sister and her three children in a <i>pension</i> where the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -only other lodgers were a Madame Pláksin and her delicate -nine-year-old son Sergéy, whose lungs were thought to be -affected, but who lived to become a poet and to publish his -recollections of Tolstoy. Pláksin describes him as having -been at that time a strongly built, broad-shouldered man, -with a good-natured smile on his face, which was fringed -by a thick, dark-brown beard. Under a large forehead, -still bearing a deep scar from the wound inflicted by the -bear two years before, wise, kind eyes shone out of very -deep sockets. 'Tolstoy,' says Pláksin, 'was the soul of our -little society, and I never saw him dull; on the contrary, -he liked to amuse us with his stories, which were sometimes -extremely fantastic.' Tolstoy rose early, and while he was -at work the children were not allowed to disturb him -beyond running in for a moment to say 'good-morning.' -Being himself an indefatigable walker, Tolstoy used to -plan out excursions for the company, constantly discovering -new places to visit: the salterns on the peninsula of Porquerolle; -the holy hill where the chapel with the wonder-working -image of the Madonna stands; or the ruins of the -castle called <i>Trou des Fées</i>. They used to have with them -on these excursions, a small ass carrying provisions, fruit -and wine.</p> - -<p class="i2">On the way Tolstoy used to tell us various tales; I remember -one about a golden horse and a giant tree, from the top of -which all the seas and all towns were visible. Knowing that -my lungs were delicate, he often took me on his shoulder and -continued his tale as he walked along. Need I say that we -would have laid down our lives for him?</p> - -<p>At dinner-time Tolstoy used to tell the French proprietors -of the <i>pension</i> the strangest stories about Russia, -which they never knew whether or not to believe until -the Countess or Madame Pláksin came to their rescue by -separating the truth from the fiction.</p> - -<p>After dinner, either on the terrace or indoors, a per<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>formance -commenced, opera or ballet, to the sound of the -piano: the children 'mercilessly tormenting the ears of the -audience' (which consisted of the two ladies, Tolstoy, and -Pláksin's nurse). Next came gymnastic exercises, in which -Tolstoy acted as professor. 'He would lie at full length -on the floor, making us do the same, and we had then to -get up without using our hands.' He also contrived an -apparatus out of rope, which he fixed up in the doorway; -and on this he performed somersaults, to the great delight -of his juvenile audience.</p> - -<p>When the latter became too turbulent and the ladies -begged Tolstoy to subdue the noise, he would set the children -round the table, and tell them to bring pens and ink.</p> - -<p>The following is an example of the sort of occupation he -provided:</p> - -<p class="i2">'Listen,' said he one day; 'I am going to give you a lesson.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'What on?' demanded bright-eyed Lisa.</p> - -<p class="i2">Disregarding his niece's question, he continued:</p> - -<p class="i2">'Write...'</p> - -<p class="i2">'But what are we to write, uncle?' persisted Lisa.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Listen; I will give you a theme...!'</p> - -<p class="i2">'What will you give us?'</p> - -<p class="i2">'A theme!' firmly replied Tolstoy. 'In what respect does -Russia differ from other countries? Write it here, in my -presence, and don't copy from one another! Do you hear?' -added he, impressively.</p> - -<p>In half an hour the 'compositions' were ready. Pláksin -had to read his own, as his lines were so irregular that -no one else could decipher them. In his opinion Russia -differed from other countries in that, at carnival time, -Russians eat pancakes and slide down ice-hills, and at -Easter they colour eggs.</p> - -<p>'Bravo!' said Tolstoy, and proceeded to make out -Kólya's MS., in which Russia was distinguished by its -snow, and Lisa's, in which 'troikas' (three-horse conveyances) -played the chief part.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> - -<p>In reward for these evening exercises, Tolstoy brought -water-colour paints from Marseilles and taught the children -drawing.</p> - -<p>He often spent nearly the whole day with the children, -teaching them, taking part in their games, and intervening -in their disputes, which he analysed, proving to them who -was in the right and who in the wrong.</p> - -<p>There was at this time some mutual attraction between -Tolstoy and a young Russian lady, Miss Yákovlef, who was -staying at Hyčres; but, like many other similar affairs, it -came to nothing.</p> - -<p>On leaving Hyčres, Tolstoy, his sister, and her children, -went to Geneva, and from thence he proceeded alone to -Nice, Leghorn, Florence, Rome, and Naples. In Italy he -says he experienced his first lively impression of antiquity; -but very little record remains of this journey, and it is -nowhere reflected in his writings.</p> - -<p>He returned to Paris <i>viâ</i> Marseilles, the schools and -other institutions of which he observed closely, trying to -discover how man's intelligence is really best developed.</p> - -<p>He was very unfavourably impressed by the popular -schools of Marseilles. The studies, he says, consisted in -learning by heart the Catechism, sacred and general -History, the four rules of Arithmetic, French spelling and -Book-keeping—the latter without sufficient comprehension -of the use of arithmetic to enable the children to deal -sensibly with the simplest practical problems requiring -addition and subtraction, though they could do long multiplication -sums quickly and well when only abstract figures -were given. Similarly, they answered well by rote questions -in French History, but, when asked at hazard, they -would give such answers as that Henry IV was killed by -Julius Cćsar.</p> - -<p>He observed the instruction given by the Churches, and -visited the adult schools of the town, as well as its <i>Salles -d'Asile</i>, in which, he says:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -I saw four-year-old children perform like soldiers, evolutions -round benches to orders given by whistle, and raise and -cross their arms to the word of command, and with strange -trembling voices sing hymns of praise to God and their benefactors; -and I became convinced that the educational establishments -of Marseilles were extremely bad.</p> - -<p class="i2">Any one seeing them would naturally conclude that the -French people must be ignorant, coarse, hypocritical, full of -superstition and almost savage.</p> - -<p class="i2">Yet one need only come in contact with and chat with any -of the common people, to convince oneself that on the contrary -the French people are almost what they consider themselves to -be: intelligent, clever, sociable, freethinking, and really civilised. -Take a workman of, say, thirty years of age: he will -write a letter without such mistakes as at school, sometimes -even quite correctly; he has some idea of politics, and therefore -of recent history and geography; he knows some history from -novels, knows something of natural history, and he very often -draws, and is able to apply mathematical formulae to his trade. -Where did he get all this?</p> - -<p class="i2">I recently discovered the answer in Marseilles, by wandering -about the streets, drink-shops, <i>cafés chantants</i>, museums, workshops, -wharves and book-stalls. The very boy who told me -that Henry IV was killed by Julius Cćsar, knew the history of -<i>The Three Musketeers</i> and of <i>Monte Cristo</i> very well.</p> - -<p>In Marseilles Tolstoy found that everybody had read -Dumas' works, of which there were twenty-eight cheap -editions. He estimated that each week, in the <i>cafés -chantants</i>, at least one-fifth of the population received oral -education, as the Greeks and Romans used to do. Comedies -and sketches were performed, verses declaimed, and the influence -for good or evil of this unconscious education far outweighed -that of the compulsory education given in schools.</p> - - -<h3>1861</h3> - -<p>In January he reached Paris, where he spent a large -part of his time in omnibuses, amusing himself by -observing the people. He declares he never met a -passenger who was not represented in one or other of Paul<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -de Kock's stories. Of that writer, as of Dumas <i>pčre</i>, he -thinks highly. 'Don't talk nonsense to me,' he once said, -'about Paul de Kock's immorality. He is, according to -English ideas, somewhat improper. He is more or less -what the French call <i>leste</i> and <i>gaulois</i>, but never immoral. -In everything he says, and despite his rather free jests, his -tendency is quite moral. He is a French Dickens.... As -to Dumas, every novelist should know him by heart. His -plots are admirable, not to mention the workmanship. I -can read and re-read him, though he aims chiefly at plots -and intrigue.'</p> - -<p>In Paris he again met Tourgénef; and from France he -went on to London, where he remained six weeks, not -enjoying his visit much as he suffered severely from toothache -nearly all the time. It is characteristic of Tolstoy -that though he has often been a victim to toothache and -has also been much tried by digestive troubles, he never -appears to have had his teeth properly attended to by a -dentist. A dentist's establishment seems to him so unnatural -and artificial that it must be wrong. Moreover, -dentists do not always do their work well; and toothache—if -one endures it long enough—cures itself, and in -the past the majority of mankind have got along without -dentists. So he has been inclined to put up with toothache -as one of the ills it is best to bear patiently.</p> - -<p>During his stay he, and Tourgénef who had also come -to London, saw a great deal of Alexander Herzen, who was -editing <i>Kólokol</i> (<i>The Bell</i>)—the most influential paper ever -published by a Russian exile.</p> - -<p>I have already remarked on the fact that the Reform -movements of that time left Tolstoy curiously cold; and -here again it may be noted that though Tourgénef contributed -to Herzen's prohibited paper, Tolstoy never wrote -anything for it.</p> - -<p>Herzen's little daughter, who had read and greatly -enjoyed <i>Childhood</i>, <i>Boyhood</i>, and <i>Youth</i>, hearing that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -author was coming to see her father, obtained permission -to be present when he called. She ensconced herself in an -arm-chair in a corner of the study at the appointed time, -and when Count Tolstoy was announced, awaited his -appearance with beating heart; but she was profoundly -disillusioned by the entrance of a man of society manners, -fashionably dressed in the latest style of English tailoring, -who began at once to tell with gusto of the cock-fights -and boxing-matches he had already managed to witness in -London. Not a single word with which she could sympathise -did she hear from Tolstoy throughout that one and -only occasion on which she was privileged to listen to his -conversation; and in this she was particularly unlucky, for -Tolstoy saw Herzen very frequently during his stay in -London, and the two discussed all sorts of important -questions together.</p> - -<p>One of Herzen's closest friends and co-workers during -his long exile from Russia, was the poet N. P. Ogaryóf, who -had been his fellow-student at the Moscow University. -Ogaryóf, besides being a man of ability, possessed a very -amiable character that greatly endeared him to his friends; -but in an essay entitled <i>The First Step</i><a name="FNanchor_43" id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> written in 1892, -we get a glimpse of what alienated Tolstoy's sympathy -from the progressive movement these men represented. -He there says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have just been reading the letters of one of our highly -educated and advanced men of the forties, the exile Ogaryóf, -to another yet more highly educated and gifted man, Herzen. -In these letters Ogaryóf gives expression to his sincere -thoughts and highest aspirations, and one cannot fail to -see that—as was natural to a young man—he rather shows -off before his friend. He talks of self-perfecting, of sacred -friendship, love, the service of science, of humanity, and the -like. And at the same time he calmly writes that he often -irritates the companion of his life by, as he expresses it, 'return<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>ing -home in an unsober state, or disappearing for many hours -with a fallen, but dear creature.'...</p> - -<p class="i2">Evidently it never even occurred to this remarkably kind-hearted, -talented, and well-educated man that there was anything -at all objectionable in the fact that he, a married man, -awaiting the confinement of his wife (in his next letter he -writes that his wife has given birth to a child) returned home -intoxicated, and disappeared with dissolute women. It did -not enter his head that until he had commenced the struggle, -and had at least to some extent conquered his inclination to -drunkenness and fornication, he could not think of friendship -and love, and still less of serving any one or any thing. But -he not only did not struggle against these vices—he evidently -thought there was something very nice in them, and that they -did not in the least hinder the struggle for perfection; and -therefore instead of hiding them from the friend in whose eyes -he wishes to appear in a good light, he exhibits them.</p> - -<p class="i2">Thus it was half a century ago. I was contemporary with -such men. I knew Ogaryóf and Herzen themselves and others -of that stamp, and men educated in the same traditions. There -was a remarkable absence of consistency in the lives of all these -men. Together with a sincere and ardent wish for good, there -was an utter looseness of personal desire, which, they thought, -could not hinder the living of a good life, nor the performance -of good and even great deeds. They put unkneaded loaves -into a cold oven, and believed that bread would be baked. -And then, when with advancing years they began to remark -that the bread did not bake—<i>i.e.</i> that no good came of their -lives—they saw in this something peculiarly tragic.</p> - -<p>This was written twenty years later; but it was latent -in his mind at the time, and furnishes a clue to the fact -that he never really made friends with these men.</p> - -<p>Of Herzen as a writer Tolstoy ultimately came to have -a very high opinion, and admitted that he exerted a very -considerable influence on the mind of educated Russia.</p> - -<p>In England, as elsewhere, Tolstoy saw as much as he -could of the educational methods in vogue. He also -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -visited the House of Commons and heard Palmerston speak -for three hours; but he told me he could form no opinion -of the oration, for 'at that time I knew English with my -eyes but not with my ears.'</p> - -<p>While in London, he received news that he had been -nominated Arbiter of the Peace for his own district, near -Toúla. The duties of the office were to settle disputes -between the serfs and their former proprietors. Except a -short service on the Zémstvo in 1874, this was the only -official position in which Tolstoy ever took much active -part after leaving the army.</p> - -<p>On 3rd March (new style), the day of Alexander II's -famous Manifesto emancipating the serfs, Tolstoy left -London for Russia <i>viâ</i> Brussels. In that city he made -the acquaintance of Proudhon (the author of <i>Qu'est-ce que -la Propriété?</i> and a <i>Systčme des Contradictions Économiques</i>) -to whom Herzen had given him a letter of introduction. -Proudhon impressed Tolstoy as a strong man who had the -courage of his opinions; and though Proudhon's theories -had no immediate effect on Tolstoy's life, the social -political and economic views expounded by the latter a -quarter of a century later, are deeply dyed with Proudhonism. -Both writers consider that property is robbery; -interest immoral; peaceful anarchy the desirable culmination -of social progress, and that every man should be a law -unto himself, restrained solely by reason, conscience and -moral suasion. Another writer whose acquaintance Tolstoy -made in Brussels was the Polish patriot Lelewel, who had -taken a prominent part in the rebellion of 1830, and had -written on Polish history and on many other subjects. He -was at this time a decrepit old man living in great poverty. -While in Brussels Tolstoy wrote <i>Polikoúshka</i>, almost the -only story of his (besides <i>A Squire's Morning</i>) that implies -a condemnation of serfdom.</p> - -<p>Passing through Germany, Tolstoy stopped at Weimar, -where he stayed with the Russian Ambassador, Von Mal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>titz, -and was introduced to the Grand Duke Carl Alexander. -Tolstoy (who had been reading Goethe's <i>Reineke Fuchs</i> not -long before) visited the house in which Goethe had lived, -but was more interested in a Kindergarten conducted by -Minna Schelholm, who had been trained by Froebel. From -another school he visited, we hear of his collecting and -carrying off the essays the pupils had written, explaining to -the master that he was much concerned with the problem, -'How to make thought flow more freely.'</p> - -<p>At Jena he made acquaintance with a young mathematician -named Keller, whom he persuaded to accompany him -to Yásnaya to help him in his educational activities. He -also stopped at Dresden, where he again visited Auerbach, -concerning whom he jots down in his Diary:</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>21 April, Dresden</i>: Auerbach is a most charming man. -Has given me a light.... He spoke of Christianity as the -spirit of humanity, than which there is nothing higher. He -reads verse enchantingly. Of Music as <i>Pflichtloser Genuss</i> -(dutyless pleasure).... He is 49 years old. Straightforward, -youthful, believing, not troubled by negation.</p> - -<p>On another occasion Tolstoy expressed surprise at never -having seen Auerbach's <i>Village Tales of the Black Forest</i> -in any German peasant's house, and declared that Russian -peasants would have wept over such stories.</p> - -<p>From Dresden he wrote to his Aunt Tatiána:</p> - -<p class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_44" id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> Je me porte bien et brűle d'envie de retourner en Russie. -Mais une fois en Europe et ne sachant quand j'y retournerai, -vous comprenez que j'ai voulu profiter, autant que possible, de -mon voyage. Et je crois l'avoir fait. Je rapporte une si grande -quantité d'impressions, de connaissances, que je devrai tra<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>vailler -longtemps, avant de pouvoir mettre tout cela en ordre -dans ma tęte.</p> - -<p class="i2">I am bringing with me a German from the University, to be -a teacher and clerk, a very nice, well-educated man, but still -very young and unpractical.</p> - -<p>He adds that he intends to return to Yásnaya <i>viâ</i> -St. Petersburg, as he wants to obtain permission to publish -an educational magazine he is projecting.</p> - -<p>On 22nd April he was already in Berlin, where he made -the acquaintance of the head of the Teachers' Seminary, -the son of the celebrated pedagogue Diesterweg, whom, to -his disappointment, he found to be 'a cold, soulless pedant, -who thinks he can develop and guide the souls of children -by rules and regulations.'</p> - -<p>On 23rd April (old style) he re-entered Russia, after a -stay abroad of nearly ten months.</p> - -<p>He brought with him complete editions of the works of -several of the greatest European writers. They were kept -at the Custom House to be submitted to the Censor, and, -as Tolstoy plaintively remarked nearly half a century later, -'he is still reading them!'</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VI</h3> - -<p>Birukof.</p> - -<p>Bitovt.</p> - -<p>Fet, <i>Moi Vospominaniya</i>: Moscow, 1890.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's <i>Confession</i>.</p> - -<p>Golovatcheva-Panaeva, <i>Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty</i>.</p> - -<p>Tourgenef, <i>Letters</i>.</p> - -<p>S. Plaksin, <i>Graf L. Tolstoy sredi detey</i>.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's works, vol. iv.: Moscow, 1903.</p> - -<p>R. Löwenfeld, <i>Leo N. Tolstoj</i>.</p> - -<p>R. Löwenfeld, <i>Gespräche über und mit Tolstoy</i>.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap7">CHAPTER VII<br /> -AT YÁSNAYA AGAIN; TOURGÉNEF; ARBITER; MAGAZINE</h2> - -<p class="i2">Quarrel with Tourgénef. Attitude towards Reforms. Arbiter -of the Peace. Educational Magazine.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">After</span> the winter's snow has so far thawed that sleighing is -impracticable, there comes a time during which there is still -too much snow left, and the roads have become too soft to -allow of travelling on wheels, and when transit is practically -impossible. Tolstoy reached Moscow at this transition period, -but had not to wait long before the roads were dry enough -for carriage traffic. He made the journey southward to -Toúla in company with Mrs. Fet, wife of his friend the poet. -Mrs. Fet was travelling in her own carriage, accompanied -by her maid, to the estate Fet had purchased at some -distance from Yásnaya. Tolstoy had his own conveyance, -but for company's sake changed places with the maid and -travelled with Mrs. Fet. In the cool of the evening he -borrowed and wrapped himself in a cloak of Fet's, declaring -that this would be sure to result in his producing a -lyric poem.</p> - - -<h3>1861</h3> - -<p>Soon after reaching Yásnaya he wrote (in the third week -of May) to congratulate Fet on having become a -landed proprietor:</p> - -<p class="i2">How long it is since we met, and how much has happened -to both of us meanwhile! I do not know how to rejoice -sufficiently when I hear or think of your activity as a farmer, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -and I am rather proud to have had at least some hand in the -matter.... It is good to have a friend; but he may die or -go away, or one may not be able to keep pace with him; but -Nature, to which one is wedded by a Notarial Deed, or to -which one has been born by inheritance, is still better. It is -one's own bit of Nature. She is cold, obdurate, disdainful and -exacting, but then she is a friend one does not lose till death, -and even then one will be absorbed into her. I am however -at present less devoted to this friend: I have other affairs that -attract me; yet but for the consciousness that she is there, -and that if I stumble she is at hand to hold on to—life would -be but a sad business.</p> - -<p>A few days later, having received an invitation from -Tourgénef, Tolstoy paid him a visit the first hours of which -passed off to their mutual satisfaction. Tourgénef had -just finished his favourite novel, <i>Fathers and Sons</i>, and it -was arranged that after dinner Tolstoy was to read it and -give his opinion on it. To do this the more comfortably, -Tolstoy, left in the drawing-room by himself, lay down on -a large sofa. He began to read; but the story seemed to -him so artificially constructed and so unimportant in its -subject-matter, that he fell fast asleep.</p> - -<p>'I awoke,' he narrates, 'with a strange sensation, and when -I opened my eyes I saw Tourgénef's back just disappearing.'</p> - -<p>In spite of this occurrence and the unpleasant feeling it -occasioned, the two novelists set out next morning to visit -Fet, who was not expecting them that day.</p> - -<p>While the visitors rested for a couple of hours, recovering -from the fatigue of their journey, Mrs. Fet saw to it -that the dinner assumed 'a more substantial and inviting -appearance.' During the meal the whole party began an -animated conversation, and Tourgénef, always fond of -good eating, fully appreciated the efforts Fet's excellent -man-cook had made. Champagne flowed, as was usual at -such reunions. After dinner the three friends strolled -to a wood a couple of hundred yards from the house, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -lying down in the high grass at its outskirts, continued -their talk with yet more freedom and animation.</p> - -<p>Next morning at the usual breakfast time, about eight -o'clock, the visitors entered the room where Mrs. Fet -presided at the samovár. Fet sat at the opposite end -of the table, Tourgénef at the hostess's right hand, and -Tolstoy at her left. Knowing the importance Tourgénef -attached to the education of his natural daughter, who -was being brought up in France, Mrs. Fet inquired -whether he was satisfied with her English governess. -Tourgénef praised the latter highly, and mentioned that, -with English exactitude, she had requested him to fix -the sum his daughter might give away in charity. 'And -now,' added Tourgénef, 'she requires my daughter to take -in hand and mend the tattered clothes of the poor.'</p> - -<p>To Tolstoy, the foreign education Tourgénef was giving -his daughter, who was quite forgetting her own language, -was very distasteful; and his feeling no doubt showed -itself in his question:</p> - -<p>'And you consider that good?'</p> - -<p>'Certainly: it places the doer of charity in touch with -everyday needs.'</p> - -<p>'And I consider that a well-dressed girl with dirty, -ill-smelling rags on her lap, is acting an insincere, -theatrical farce.'</p> - -<p>'I beg you not to say that!' exclaimed Tourgénef, -with dilated nostrils.</p> - -<p>'Why should I not say what I am convinced is true?' -replied Tolstoy.</p> - -<p>'Then you consider that I educate my daughter badly?'</p> - -<p>Tolstoy replied that his thought corresponded to his speech.</p> - -<p>Before Fet could interpose, Tourgénef, white with rage, -exclaimed: 'If you speak in that way I will punch your -head!' and, jumping up from the table and seizing his -head in his hands, he rushed into the next room. A -second later he returned and, addressing Mrs. Fet, said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -'For heaven's sake excuse my improper conduct, which I -deeply regret!' and again left the room.</p> - -<p>Fet, realising the impossibility of keeping his visitors -together after what had happened, was perplexed what to -do, for they had both arrived in Tourgénef's vehicle, and, -newly established in the country, Fet, though he had -horses, had none accustomed to be driven in the only -conveyance he possessed. To get Tourgénef off was easy; -but it was not without some difficulty and even danger from -the restive horses, that Tolstoy was conveyed to the nearest -post-station at which a hired conveyance could be procured.</p> - -<p>From Novosélok, the first country house Tolstoy -reached, he wrote Tourgénef a letter demanding an -apology; and asked for an answer to be sent to the next -post-house at Bogousláf. Tourgénef, not noticing this -request, sent his reply to Fet's house, in consequence of -which it was several hours late in reaching Tolstoy—who -was so enraged at this (as it seemed to him) fresh act of -discourtesy, that from Bogousláf he sent a messenger to -procure pistols, and wrote a second letter containing a -challenge to Tourgénef, and stating that he did not wish -to fight in a merely formal manner, like literary men who -finish up with champagne, but that he was in earnest, -and hoped Tourgénef would meet him with pistols at the -outskirt of the Bogousláf woods.</p> - -<p>That night was a sleepless one for Tolstoy. The morning -brought Tourgénef's reply to his first letter. It commenced -in the usual formal manner of polite communications:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Gracious Sir, Leo Nikoláyevitch!</span>—In reply to your letter, -I can only repeat, what I myself considered it my duty to -announce to you at Fet's: namely, that carried away by a -feeling of involuntary enmity, the causes of which need not -here be considered, I insulted you without any definite provocation; -and I asked your pardon. What happened this -morning proved clearly that attempts at intimacy between such -opposite natures as yours and mine can lead to no good result;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -and I the more readily fulfil my duty to you, because the present -letter probably terminates our relations with one another. -I heartily hope it may satisfy you, and I consent in advance to -your making what use you please of it.</p> - -<p class="i2">With perfect respect, I have the honour to remain, Gracious -Sir, your most humble servant,</p> - -<p class="rightm"><span class="smcap">Iv. Tourgénef</span>.<br /> -<span class="smcap">Spássky</span>, <i>27 May 1861</i>.</p> - - -<p class="i2"><i>P.S.</i> 10.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>:</p> - -<p class="i2">Iván Petróvitch has just brought back my letter, which my -servant stupidly sent to Novosélok instead of to Bogousláf. I -humbly beg you to excuse this accidental and regrettable mistake, -and I hope my messenger will still find you at Bogousláf.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy thereupon wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I could not resist opening another letter from Mr. Tourgénef -in reply to mine. I wish you well of your relations with that -man, but I despise him. I have written to him, and therewith -have terminated all relations, except that I hold myself ready to -give him any satisfaction he may desire. Notwithstanding all -my apparent tranquillity, I was disturbed in spirit and felt I must -demand a more explicit apology from Mr. Tourgénef; I did -this in my letter from Novosélok. Here is his answer, which -I accept as satisfactory, merely informing him that my reason -for excusing him is not our opposite natures, but one he may -himself surmise.</p> - -<p class="i2">In consequence of the delay which occurred, I sent besides -this, another letter, harsh enough and containing a challenge, -to which I have not received any reply; but should I receive -one I shall return it unopened. So there is an end of that sad -story, which, if it goes beyond your house, should do so with -this addendum.</p> - -<p>Tourgénef's reply to the challenge came to hand later, -and ran as follows:</p> - -<p class="i2">Your servant says you desire a reply to your letter; but I -do not see what I can add to what I have already written; -unless it be that I admit your right to demand satisfaction, -weapons in hand. You have preferred to accept my spoken -and repeated apology. That was as you pleased. I will say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -without phrases, that I would willingly stand your fire in order -to efface my truly insane words. That I should have uttered -them is so unlike the habits of my whole life, that I can only -attribute my action to irritability evoked by the extreme and -constant antagonism of our views. This is not an apology—I -mean to say, not a justification—but an explanation. And -therefore, at parting from you for ever—for such occurrences -are indelible and irrevocable—I consider it my duty to repeat -once again that in this affair you were in the right and I in the -wrong. I add that what is here in question is not the courage I -wish, or do not wish, to show, but an acknowledgment of your -right to call me out to fight, in the accepted manner of course -(with seconds), as well as your right to pardon me. You have -chosen as you pleased, and I have only to submit to your decision. -I renew my assurance of my entire respect,</p> - -<p class="rightm"><span class="smcap">Iv. Tourgénef</span>.</p> - -<p class="p2">The quarrel was not, however, destined to die out so -quickly. Even good-natured Fet got into trouble by -trying to reconcile the irascible novelists. Here is one -of the notes he received from Tolstoy:</p> - -<p class="i2">I request you not to write to me again, as I shall return -your letters, as well as Tourgénef's, unopened.</p> - -<p>Fet remarks: 'So all my attempts to put the matter -right ended in a formal rupture of my relations with -Tolstoy, and I cannot now even remember how friendly -intercourse between us was renewed.'</p> - -<p>Before four months had passed, Tolstoy repented him -of his quarrel. Like Prince Nehlúdof in <i>Resurrection</i>, he -used from time to time to repent of all his sins and all -his quarrels, and undertook a sort of spring- or autumn-cleaning -of his soul. It was at such a moment that, on -25th September, he wrote to Tourgénef expressing regret -that their relations to one another were hostile, and he -added: 'If I have insulted you, forgive me; I find it -unendurably hard to think I have an enemy.' Not knowing -Tourgénef's address in France, he sent this letter to a -bookseller in Petersburg (with whom he knew Tourgénef<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -corresponded) to be forwarded. The letter took more -than three months to reach its destination, nor was -this the only thing that went wrong, as is shown by the -following portion of a letter, dated 8th November, from -Tourgénef to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">Apropos, 'one more last remark' about the unfortunate affair -with Tolstoy. Passing through Petersburg I learned from -certain 'reliable people' (Oh, those reliable people!) that -copies of Tolstoy's last letter to me (the letter in which he -'despises' me) are circulating in Moscow, and are said to have -been distributed by Tolstoy himself. That enraged me, and -I sent him a challenge to fight when I return to Russia. Tolstoy -has answered that the circulation of the copies is pure -invention, and he encloses another letter in which, recapitulating -that, and how, I insulted him, he asks my forgiveness -and declines my challenge. Of course the matter must -end there, and I will only ask you to tell him (for he writes -that he will consider any fresh communication from me to him -as an insult) that I myself repudiate any duel, etc., and hope -the whole matter is buried for ever. His letter (apologising) -I have destroyed. Another letter, which he says he sent me -through the bookseller Davídof, I never received. And now -as to the whole matter—<i>de profundis</i>.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy noted in his Diary one day in October:</p> - -<p class="i2">Yesterday I received a letter from Tourgénef in which he -accuses me of saying he is a coward and of circulating copies -of my letter. I have written him that it is nonsense, and -I have also sent him a letter: 'You call my action dishonourable -and you formerly wished to punch my head; but I consider -myself guilty, ask pardon, and refuse the challenge.'</p> - - -<h3>1862</h3> - -<p>Even then the matter was not at an end, for on -7th January [new style?] Tourgénef writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">And now a plain question: Have you seen Tolstoy? I have -only to-day received the letter he sent me in September -through Davídof's bookshop (how accurate are our Russian merchants!). -In this letter he speaks of his intention to insult me, -and apologises, etc. And almost at that very time, in con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>sequence -of some gossip about which I think I wrote you, -I sent him a challenge. From all this one must conclude that -our constellations move through space in definitely hostile conjunction, -and that therefore we had better, as he himself says, -avoid meeting. But you may write or tell him (if you see him) -that I (without phrase or joke) <i>from afar</i> love him very much, -respect him and watch his fate with sympathetic interest; but -that in proximity all takes a different turn. What's to be done? -We must live as though we inhabited different planets or -different centuries.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy evidently took umbrage at Tourgénef's message, -and visited his wrath on Fet's innocent head. To be profoundly -humble and forgiving at his own command, was -always, it seems, easier for Tolstoy than to let his opponent -have an opinion of his own. Tolstoy likes things to be -quite clear-cut and definite, and it complicates matters to -have to reckon with any one else's views. At any rate -Tourgénef writes:</p> - -<p class="p2 rightm"><span class="smcap">Paris</span>, <i>14 Jan. [o.s.?] 1862</i>.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dearest Afanásy Afanásyevitch!</span> [Fet's Christian name -and patronymic].—First of all I must ask your pardon for the -quite unexpected tile (<i>tuile</i>, as the French say) that tumbled -on your head as a result of my letter. The one thing which -somewhat consoles me is that I could not possibly have -expected such a freak on Tolstoy's part, and thought I was -arranging all for the best. It seems it is a wound of a kind -better not touched at all.</p> - -<p>To judge the relations between these two great writers -fairly, one must remember that Tourgénef was ten years -the elder and, until <i>War and Peace</i> appeared, ranked -higher in popular esteem; yet Tolstoy showed him no -deference, but on the contrary often attacked him and -his views with mordant irony. Tourgénef was neither ill-natured -nor quarrelsome. If Tolstoy had treated him with -consideration or had been willing to let him alone, there -would have been no question either of insult or of challenge. -But the younger man sought the elder's company, and then -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -made himself disagreeable; and this, not of malice prepense, -but because it is his nature to demand perfection -from great men, and vehemently to attack those who fail -to reach the standard he sets up. This conduct was no -doubt all the more trying for Tourgénef, because Tolstoy -neither co-operated with the Liberal movement then current, -nor lived more abstemiously with regard to food, wine, -women, and cards than others of his set whom he scolded; -or if he did so, he did it so spasmodically and with such -serious lapses, as to be little entitled to condemn others -with the fervour he frequently displayed. On the occasion -of the great quarrel Tourgénef was certainly the aggressor, -and his prompt apology was not addressed to Tolstoy, -whom he had chiefly offended, but to Mrs. Fet. It is, -however, plain that he acted, as he said, on the irritable -impulse of the moment. Tolstoy aggravated matters by -sending a challenge before receiving a reply to his first -letter, and also by suggesting that he despised Tourgénef -and pardoned him for reasons 'he may himself surmise.' -Again, in relation to Fet, who merely wished to pour oil on -the troubled waters, Tolstoy showed a strange irritability. -No one however can read the <i>Recollections</i> Fet wrote -thirty years later, without seeing that that poet—who not -only witnessed this affair, but had been the confidant of -both writers for years—respected Tolstoy far more than he -respected Tourgénef.</p> - -<p>In this whole story, one may detect traces of the qualities -which have made Tolstoy so interesting and so perplexing -a personality. He cares intensely about everything -with which he is occupied. Tourgénef, and Tourgénef's -opinions and conduct, were of tremendous importance to -him. So were his own views of how young ladies should -be brought up. So was the question whether he ought to -challenge his enemy; and, later on, the question whether he -ought to forgive him, and whether Fet should be allowed to -act as mediator. It is this fact—that he cares about things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -a hundred times more than other people care about them—that -makes Tolstoy a genius and a great writer. What -was admirable in his conduct was not that he acted well -(as a matter of fact he acted very badly) but that he <i>wished</i> -to act well.</p> - -<p>The same spirit which made him so intolerant with -Tourgénef: his strong feeling that 'To whom much is -given, of him much shall be required'—had something -to do, later in life, with his fierce attacks on Governments, -on Shakespear, on Wagner, and on other great -institutions and men. At the same time, the incident -throws light on that side of Tolstoy's character which has -brought it about that, despite the very real charm he -possesses, and despite the fact that many men and women -have been immensely attracted by his writings, he has had -very few intimate friends, and has constantly been misunderstood.</p> - -<p>V. P. Bótkin, who was in touch both with Tolstoy and -Tourgénef, wrote to Fet after hearing of the quarrel:</p> - -<p class="i2">The scene between him [Tourgénef] and Tolstoy at your -house, produced on me a sad impression. But do you know, -I believe that in reality Tolstoy has a passionately loving soul; -only he wants to love Tourgénef ardently, and unfortunately -his impulsive feeling encounters merely mild, good-natured indifference. -That is what he cannot reconcile himself to. And -then (again unfortunately) his mind is in a chaos, <i>i.e.</i> I wish to -say it has not yet reached any definite outlook on life and the -world's affairs. That is why his conviction changes so often, and -why he is so apt to run to extremes. His soul burns with unquenchable -thirst; I say 'unquenchable,' because what satisfied it -yesterday, is to-day broken up by his analysis. But that analysis -has no durable and firm reagents, and consequently its results -evaporate <i>ins blaue hinein</i>. Without some firm ground under -one's feet it is impossible to write. And that is why at present -he <i>cannot</i> write, and this will continue to be the case till his -soul finds something on which it can rest.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -To any one acquainted with the history of Russia at -that period, but not acquainted with Tolstoy's idiosyncrasies, -it must indeed seem strange that the story of his -life can be told with so little reference to the Emancipation -or the Reform movements of the years 1860-1864, to which -allusion has already been made. Two passages written -by him in 1904 state his relation to those movements -with the sincerity which is so prominent and valuable -a feature of his character:</p> - -<p class="i2">As to my attitude at that time to the excited condition -of our whole society, I must say (and this is a good and bad -trait always characteristic of me) that I always involuntarily -opposed any external, epidemic pressure; and that if I was -excited and happy at that time, this proceeded from my own -personal, inner motives: those which drew me to my school -work and into touch with the peasants.</p> - -<p class="i2">I recognise in myself now the same feeling of resistance -to the excitement at present prevailing; which resembles that -which, in a more timid form, was then current.</p> - -<p>When the Emancipation came, the peasants received -freedom, and an allotment of land, subject to a special -land-tax for sixty years; while their masters retained the -rest of the land and received State Bonds for the capitalised -value of the peasants' land-tax. An expedient resorted to -by many a proprietor was, to allot land to the peasants in -such a way that the latter were left without any pasture, -and (being surrounded by the owner's estate) found themselves -obliged to hire pasture land of him on his own terms. -There were, till the Emancipation, two ways of holding -serfs: (1) the primitive way of obliging them to work -so many days a week for their master, before they could, -on the other days, provide for their own wants; and (2) -another way, which left the serf free to work for himself, -provided that he paid <i>obrók</i>, <i>i.e.</i> a certain yearly tribute to -his owner. These explanations will render intelligible the -second passage referred to above and quoted below:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -Some three or four years before the Emancipation, I let my -serfs go on <i>obrók</i>. When complying with the Emancipation -Decree I arranged, as the law required, to leave the peasants -in possession of the land they were cultivating on their own -behalf, which amounted to rather less than eight acres per head, -and (to my shame be it said) I added nothing thereto. The -only thing I did—or the one evil I refrained from doing—was -that I abstained from obliging the peasants to exchange land -(as I was advised to do) and left them in possession of the -pasture they needed. In general, however, I did not show any -disinterested feeling in the affair.</p> - -<p>In the first edition of <i>Tolstoy and his Problems</i> I -erroneously stated that Tolstoy, before the Decree of -Emancipation, voluntarily freed his serfs; and though this -was corrected in the second edition, it is necessary to -repeat the correction here, as the same mistake occurs in -the article on Tolstoy in the <i>Encyclopćdia Britannica</i>. I -therefore quote the following passage from a letter he -wrote me on the subject:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have received your book and read it with pleasure. The -short biography is excellent, except the place where you, quoting -the words of Sophia Andréyevna, say that 'he liberated his -peasants before the Emancipation.' That is wrong: I placed -them on <i>obrók</i> instead of keeping them on <i>bárstchina</i> [<i>i.e.</i> the -state in which the peasants rendered labour dues]. It would -not have been possible to emancipate them....</p> - - -<h3>1861</h3> - -<p>Tolstoy's curious tendency to underrate the influence of -the Liberal reformers of that time, may be illustrated by -an incident that occurred at a dinner in Toúla. -The local elections had taken place, and a public -banquet was given in honour of those Arbiters of the -Peace who were visiting the town. Tolstoy was at this -dinner, and when the toast to the health of Alexander II, -the 'Tsar-Liberator,' was proposed, Tolstoy remarked to -his neighbour: 'I drink this toast with particular pleasure. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -No others are needed, for in reality we owe the Emancipation -to the Emperor alone.'</p> - -<p>A yet more curious instance of the same tendency occurs -in an article on <i>Progress, and the Definition of Education</i>, -which he published a year later, and in which, arguing that -printing has been of little use to the people, he says -that:</p> - -<p class="i2">Even taking as an example the abolition of serfdom, I do -not see that printing helped the solution of the problem in a -progressive sense. Had the Government not said its decisive -word in that affair, the press would, beyond a doubt, have -explained matters in quite a different way to what it did. We -saw that most of the periodicals would have demanded the -emancipation of the peasants without any land, and would have -produced arguments apparently just as reasonable, witty and -sarcastic [as they actually produced in favour of the more -Liberal solution ultimately adopted]....</p> - -<p>If, however, Tolstoy did not stand in the ranks of the -Reformers, he was much less of a partisan of his own class -than many of his fellow-nobles desired; and we find the -Marshal of the Nobility of Toúla writing to Valoúef, -Minister of Home Affairs, complaining of Tolstoy's appointment -as Arbiter of the Peace on the ground that he was -disliked by the neighbouring landowners. In consequence -of this complaint Valoúef made inquiries, and received a -'confidential' reply from the Governor of the Province, -stating that:</p> - -<p class="i2">Knowing Count Tolstoy personally, as an educated man -warmly sympathising with the matter in hand, and in view of -a wish expressed to me by some of the proprietors of the -district that he should be appointed Arbiter, I cannot replace -him by some one I do not know.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy tried his best to act fairly between peasants and -landowners; but from the start his unsuitability for duties -involving methodical care was obvious.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -The very first 'charter,' regulating the relations between -a landlord and his newly-liberated peasants, that he sent -up to the Government Board for Peasant Affairs, was -signed as follows: 'At the request of such-and-such -peasants, because of their illiteracy, the house-serf so-and-so -has signed this charter for them.' Not a single name did -the charter contain! As Tolstoy had dictated the words, -so his servant had written them down, and the charter had -been sealed and sent off without being read over.</p> - -<p>He could at times be wonderfully patient in dealing -with the peasants, though they were exasperatingly pertinacious -in demanding more than it was possible to grant. -An eye-witness tells how Tolstoy visited a neighbouring -estate on which differences had arisen between the peasants -and their former master, as to the land which should be -allotted to them. Tolstoy received a deputation, consisting -of three of the leading peasants of the village, and -asked them:</p> - -<p>'Well, lads, what do you want?'</p> - -<p>They explained what land they wished to have, and -Tolstoy replied, 'I am very sorry I can't do what you -wish. Were I to do so I should cause your landlord a -great loss'; and he proceeded to explain to them how the -matter stood.</p> - -<p>'But you'll manage it for us somehow, <i>bátushka</i>' -[literally, 'little-father'], said the peasants.</p> - -<p>'No, I can't do anything of the kind,' repeated Tolstoy.</p> - -<p>The peasants glanced at one another, scratched their -heads, and reiterated their 'But somehow, <i>bátushka</i>!' and -one of them added, 'If only you want to, <i>bátushka</i>, you'll -know how to find a way to do it!' at which the other -peasants nodded their heads approvingly.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy crossed himself, as orthodox Russians are wont -to do, and said: 'As God is holy, I swear that I can be of -no use at all to you.' But still the peasants repeated: -'You'll take pity on us, and do it somehow, <i>bátushka</i>!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -Tolstoy at last turned vehemently to the steward, who -was present, and said: 'One can sooner, like Amphion, -move the hills and woods, than convince peasants of anything!'</p> - -<p>The whole conversation, says the steward, lasted more -than an hour, and up to the last minute the Count retained -his patient and friendly manner towards the peasants. -Their obstinacy did not provoke him to utter a single -harsh word.</p> - -<p>With the landowners Tolstoy had even more trouble -than with the peasants. He received many threatening -letters, plans were formed to have him beaten, he was to -have been challenged to a duel; and denunciations against -him were sent to those in authority.</p> - -<p>After some three months of the work, in July 1861, he -jotted down in his Diary: 'Arbitration has given me but -little material [for literary work], has brought me into -conflict with all the landed-proprietors, and has upset my -health.'</p> - -<p>Here is a sample of the cases he had to deal with. A -Mrs. Artukóf complained that a certain Mark Grigóref -(who had been a house-serf, and was therefore not entitled -to land) had left her, considering himself to be 'perfectly -free.'</p> - -<p>Tolstoy, in his reply to the lady, said:</p> - -<p class="i2">Mark, by my order, is at liberty to go immediately, with his -wife, where he likes; and I beg you (1) to compensate him for -the three-and-a-half months he has been illegally kept at work -by you since the Decree was published, and (2) for the blows -still more illegally inflicted on his wife. If my decision displeases -you, you have a right of appeal to the Magistrates' -Sessions and to the Government Sessions. I shall not enter -into further explanations on this subject.—With entire respect -I have the honour to remain, your humble servant,</p> - -<p class="rightm">C<sup>t.</sup> L. <span class="smcap">Tolstoy.</span></p> - -<p class="p2">The lady appealed to the Magistrates' Sessions, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -Tolstoy's decision was annulled; but on the case being -carried to the Government Sessions, his view of the case -prevailed.</p> - -<p>Before he had been a year in office we find him writing -to the Government of the Toúla Board of Peasant Affairs -as follows:</p> - -<p class="i2">As the complaints [here follows a list of several cases] lodged -against my decisions have no legal justification, but yet in -these and many other cases my decisions have been and are -being repealed, so that almost every decision I give is subsequently -reversed; and as under such conditions—destructive -both of the peasants' and the landowners' confidence in the -Arbiter—the latter's activity becomes not merely useless but -impossible, I humbly request the Government Board to authorise -one of its members to hasten the examination of the above-mentioned -appeals, and I have to inform the Government -Board that until such investigations are completed I do not -consider it proper that I should exercise the duties of -my office, which I have, therefore, handed over to the senior -Candidate.</p> - -<p>The following month he resumed official work, but six -weeks later, on 30th April 1862, on the score of ill-health, -he handed the duties over to a substitute; and on 26th -May—about a year after he had first assumed the office—the -Senate informed the Governor of Toúla that it 'had -decided to discharge the Lieutenant of Artillery, Count -Leo Tolstoy, on the ground of ill-health' from the post -of Arbiter of the Peace.</p> - -<p>His unsatisfactory experience of administrative work no -doubt helps to account for the anti-Governmental bias -shown in his later works. Even at this time, he quite -shared the dislike of civil and criminal law expressed by -Rousseau when he wrote in his <i>Confession</i>:</p> - -<p class="i2">The justice and the inutility of my appeals left in my mind -a germ of indignation against our stupid civil institutions, in -which the true welfare of the public, and veritable justice, are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -always sacrificed to I know not what apparent order, really -destructive of all order, and which merely adds the sanction of -public authority to the oppression of the weak and the iniquity -of the strong.</p> - -<p>We may at any rate be sure that tiresome, petty administrative -work, never quite satisfactory, but at best consisting -of compromises and of decisions based on necessity -rather than on such principles of abstract justice as are -dear to Tolstoy's soul, could never be an occupation satisfactory -to him. He has not the plodding patience and -studious moderation that such work demands; nor could -his impulsive genius find scope in it. It has never been -easy for him to be checked by others, or to have to reckon -with their opinions and wishes. Like Rousseau, it suits -him better to reform the world on paper, or even to alter -his own personal habits of life, than to concern himself -with the slow social progress, the bit-by-bit amelioration, -which alone is possible to those harnessed to the car that -carries a whole society of men.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy used at this time to find recreation in hunting, -and often went out for days together with his friend and -relation Prince D. D. Obolénsky, who describes him as -having been a bold and active hunter, leaping all sorts of -obstacles, and a wonderful man to talk to.</p> - -<p>Concurrently with his duties as Arbiter, Tolstoy had -been carrying on an enterprise in which he had to deal -with people younger and more easy to mould than the -peasants and proprietors whose quarrels he found it so -hard to adjust; and during the winter of 1861-1862 he -devoted himself with especial fervour to the task of educating -the peasant children of Yásnaya and the surrounding -district.</p> - -<p>As we have already seen, a chief aim of his travels -abroad had been to study the theory and practice of education; -and not only did he now personally devote himself to -the school at Yásnaya, but in the surrounding neighbourhood -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -eleven similar schools were soon started, all more or less -inspired by his ideals and encouraged by his co-operation. -The monthly magazine, <i>Yásnaya Polyána</i> (now a bibliographical -rarity) which he produced and edited during -1862, aimed at propagating his theories of education and -making known the results attained in his school, and it also -contained an account of sums voluntarily contributed -for its support. From articles published in it (and republished -in his collected writings) we get a vivid description -of the work carried on in November and December -1861.<a name="FNanchor_45" id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> Like many Russian magazines, <i>Yásnaya Polyána</i> -always appeared late, and, to begin with, the January -number was several weeks behind time.</p> - -<p>In this educational work, Tolstoy showed the qualities -and limitations which in later years marked all his propagandist -activity. There was the same characteristic -selection of a task of great importance; the same readiness -to sweep aside and condemn nearly all that civilised -humanity had accomplished up to then; the same assurance -that he could untie the Gordian knot; and the same -power of devoted genius enabling him really to achieve -much more than one would have supposed possible, though -not a tithe of what he set himself to do.</p> - -<p>In later life Tolstoy laid no particular emphasis on what -he wrote in these educational articles: in fact, we shall -find him sometimes speaking very scornfully of them; but -they throw so much light on his then state of mind, and -often come so near to the views he strongly advocated -twenty or thirty years later, that it will be worth devoting -a good deal of attention to them.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy, then, defines Education as: <i>a human activity, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -aving for its basis a desire for equality, and the constant -tendency to advance in knowledge</i>. This he illustrates by -saying that the aim of a teacher of arithmetic should be to -enable his pupil to grasp all the laws of mathematical -reasoning he himself is master of; the aim of a teacher of -French, or chemistry, or philosophy, should be similar; and -as soon as that aim is attained, the activity will naturally -cease. Everywhere and always, teaching which makes the -pupil the master's equal, has been considered good. The -more nearly and rapidly this is accomplished, the better; the -less nearly and more slowly it is accomplished, the worse. -Similarly in literature (an indirect method of teaching) -those books are written best, in which the author succeeds -in transmitting his whole message most easily to the -reader.</p> - -<p>By 'the constant tendency to advance in knowledge,' -Tolstoy meant that the equality aimed at in education can -only be obtained on the higher, and not on the lower, -level: that is to say, not by the teacher forgetting -what he knows, but by the pupil acquiring the teacher's -knowledge. Much tuition however is based not on -the desire to equalise knowledge, but on quite false -foundations.</p> - -<p>These are: (1) First and commonest, the child learns in -order not to be punished; (2) the child learns in order to -earn a reward; (3) the child learns in order to be better -than others; (4) the child, or young man, learns in order -to obtain an advantageous position in the world....</p> - -<p>With reference to the practice of sending boys to school, -not for their natural development, but that they may be -moulded into a set form, Tolstoy declares that 'Education, -as a deliberate moulding of people into certain forms, is -<i>sterile, illegitimate, and impossible</i>.'</p> - -<p>Of examinations he strongly disapproves, as tending to -arbitrariness on the side of the examiners, and deception -on the side of the pupils.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -Under what circumstances, asks Tolstoy, can a pupil -acquire knowledge most rapidly? 'A child or a man is -receptive only when he is aroused; and therefore to regard -a merry spirit in school as an enemy or a hindrance, is the -crudest of blunders.</p> - -<p>The pupil's state of mind is the most important condition -of successful education; and to secure good results, -freedom is indispensable. No child should be forced to -learn what it does not want to, or when it does not -wish to.</p> - -<p class="i2">One need only glance at one and the same child at home or -in the street, and at school. Here you see a vivacious, inquisitive -being, with a smile in his eye and on his mouth, seeking -information everywhere as a pleasure, and clearly, and often -forcibly, expressing his thoughts in his own way; while there -you see a weary, shrinking creature repeating, merely with his -lips, some one else's thoughts in some one else's words, with an -air of fatigue, fear and listlessness: a creature whose soul has -retreated like a snail into its shell. One need but glance at -these two conditions to see which of them is the more conducive -to the child's development. That strange physiological -condition which I call the 'School state of mind,' and which -unfortunately we all know so well, consists in all the higher -capacities: imagination, creative power and reflection, yielding -place to a semi-animal capacity to pronounce words without -imagination or reflection.</p> - -<p>When the pupils have been reduced to this 'School state -of mind' we encounter those 'not accidental, but often-repeated -cases,' of the stupidest boy being at the top of -the class, and the cleverest boy at the bottom.</p> - -<p>In short, a child's mental capacities are really active -only when that child is free; and the teacher's chief task -lies 'in studying the free child' and discovering how to -supply him with knowledge. Therefore 'the only method -of education is experiment, and its only criterion is -<i>freedom</i>.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -The attempts to enforce obedience and quiet in school-rooms, -converts schools into places of torture which -have a stupefying effect, well called by the Germans -<i>Verdummen</i>.</p> - -<p class="i2">In Germany nine-tenths of those who pass through the -primary schools leave them possessed of an ability to read and -write mechanically, but imbued with so strong a loathing for -the experience they have had of the paths of knowledge, that -they subsequently never take a book in their hands. Let -those who doubt what I say, point out to me what books are -read by the labourers.... No one who will seriously consider -the education of the people, not only in Russia but also in the -rest of Europe, can help coming to the conclusion that the -people get their mental development quite independently of a -knowledge of reading and writing, and that usually, except in -a few cases of exceptional ability, these rudiments remain a -quite unapplied art—which is even harmful, since nothing in -life can remain indifferent....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="i2">Schools are not so arranged as to make it convenient for -children to learn, but so as to make it convenient for teachers -to teach. The voices, movements and mirth of the children, -which form a necessary condition of their studying successfully, -incommode the teachers, and therefore in the prison-like -schools of to-day, questions, conversation, and movement are -forbidden.</p> - -<p>Schools based on compulsion, supply 'not a shepherd for -the flock, but a flock for the shepherd.'</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="i2">To deal successfully with any object, it is necessary to study -it, and in education the object is a free child; yet the pedagogues -wish to teach in their own way—the way that seems -good in their own eyes; and when this does not act, they want -not to alter their way of teaching but the nature of the child. -...Not till experiment becomes the basis of the School, and -every school is, so to say, a pedagogic laboratory, will schools -cease to lag behind the general level of the world's progress.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> -For boarding-schools Tolstoy had scant respect:</p> - -<p class="i2">At home all the comforts of life—water, fires, good food, -a well-cooked dinner, the cleanliness and comfort of the rooms—all -depended on the work and care of the mother and of the -whole family. The more work and care, the greater the comfort; -the less work and care, the less comfort. A simple -matter this no doubt, but more educational I think, than the -French language or a knowledge of Alexander the Great. -In a boarding-school, this constant vital reward for labour is -so put out of sight, that not only is the dinner no better -or worse, the napkins no cleaner or dirtier, and the floors -no brighter or duller, because of the girl's exertion or non-exertion, -but she has not even a cell or corner of her own to -keep straight or leave untidy at her pleasure, and she has no -chance of making a costume for herself out of scraps and -ribbons.</p> - -<p>His general charge against day-schools, boarding-schools -and universities alike is that:</p> - -<p class="i2">At the base of them all lies one and the same principle: the -right of one man, or of a small group of men, to shape other -people as they like.</p> - -<p>He adds that:</p> - -<p class="i2">It is not enough for School to tear children away from real life -for six hours a day during the best years of their life: it wishes -to tear three-year-old children from their mother's influence. -Institutions have been contrived (<i>Kleinkinderbervahranstalten</i>, -infant schools, <i>salles d'asile</i>) about which we shall have to speak -more in detail later on. It only remains to invent a steam-engine -which will replace the nursing mother! All agree that -schools are imperfect; I, personally, am convinced that they -are noxious.</p> - -<p>He argues that no man or set of men has any right to -force any particular kind of education on any one else. -The teacher has no right to do more than offer such -knowledge as he possesses, and he should respect the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -child's right to reject it as indigestible, or as badly -served up:</p> - -<p class="i2">On what grounds does the School of to-day teach this and -not that, and in this and not that way?</p> - -<p class="i2">Where, in our day, can we get such faith in the indubitability -of our knowledge as would give us a right to educate -people compulsorily? Take any medieval school, before or -after Luther, take the whole scholastic literature of the Middle -Ages, what a strength of belief and what a firm, indubitable -knowledge of what was true and what was false, we see in -them! It was easy for them to know that a knowledge of -Greek was the one essential condition of education; for -Aristotle's works were in Greek, and no one doubted the -truth of his propositions till centuries later. How could the -monks help demanding the study of the Holy Scriptures, -which stood on an immovable foundation? It was well for -Luther to demand the compulsory study of Hebrew, being -sure, as he was, that in that language God himself has revealed -the truth to man. Evidently, as long as man's critical sense -was not aroused, the school had to be dogmatic; and it was -natural for pupils to learn by heart the truths revealed by God, -as well as Aristotle's science and the poetic beauties of Virgil -and Cicero. For centuries after, no one could imagine any -truer truth, or more beautiful beauty. But what is the position -of the schools of our time, which retain these same dogmatic -principles, while in the room next the class where the immortality -of the soul is taught, it is suggested to the pupils -that the nerves common to man and to the frog are what was -formerly called 'the soul'; and where after hearing the story -of Joshua the son of Nun read to him without explanations, -the pupil learns that the sun never did go round the earth; -and when after the beauties of Virgil have been explained to -him, he finds the beauties of Alexandre Dumas (whose novels -he can buy for sixpence) much greater; when the only belief -held by the teacher is that nothing is true, but that whatever -exists is reasonable; and that progress is good and backwardness -bad, though nobody knows in what this progress, that is so -generally believed in, consists?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -In another article he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">Luther insists on teaching the Holy Scriptures from the -originals, and not from the commentaries of the Fathers of the -Church. Bacon enjoins the study of Nature from Nature, and -not from the books of Aristotle. Rousseau wants to teach -life from life itself as he understands it, and not from previous -experiments. Each step forward in the philosophy of pedagogics -merely consists in freeing the schools from the idea -of teaching the younger generations what the elder generations -believed to be science, and in substituting studies that accord -with the needs of the younger generations.</p> - -<p>Again, he says</p> - -<p class="i2">It is very usual to read and hear it said that the home -conditions, the coarseness of parents, field labour, village -games and so forth, are the chief hindrances to school-work. -Possibly they really interfere with the kind of school-work -aimed at by the pedagogues; but it is time we understood -that those conditions are the chief bases of all education, and -far from being inimical to, or hindrances of the School, are its -first and chief motive power.... The wish to know anything -whatever, and the very questions to which it is the School's -business to reply, arise entirely from these home conditions. -All instruction should be simply a reply to questions put by -life. But School, far from evoking questions, fails even to -answer those which life suggests.... To such questions the -child receives no reply; more especially as the police regulations -of the School do not allow him to open his mouth, even when he -wants to be let out for a minute, but obliges him to make signs -in order not to break the silence or disturb the teacher.</p> - -<p>The great questions, Tolstoy says, are: (1) What must -I teach? and (2) How must I teach it? He remarks -that a couple of centuries ago, neither in Russia nor in -Western Europe could these questions have arisen. -Education was then bound up with religion, and to -become a scholar meant to learn the Scriptures. In -Mohammedan countries this union of religion with educa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>tion -still exists in full force. To learn, means to learn -the Koran, and therefore to learn Arabic. But as soon as -the criterion of what to learn ceased to be religion, and -the School became independent of the Church, the question -of what to teach was bound to arise. That it did not arise -suddenly, was due to the fact that the emancipation of -the School from the Church took place gradually. But -the day has at last come when the question must be faced; -and no clear guidance is given us either by philosophy -or by any definite consensus of opinion among those -concerned with education. In the higher schools some -advocate a classical, others a scientific, education; while -in the primary schools, if the education is controlled by -the priests it is carried on in one way, and if it is controlled -by the anti-clericals it is carried on in another. -Under these circumstances the only possible criterion must -be the wish of the pupils or of their parents. Tolstoy -then goes on to maintain that the demand of the mass of -the Russian people is for tuition in the Russian and -Ecclesiastico-Slavonic languages, and for mathematics.</p> - -<p>As to <i>how</i> to teach, he contends that this resolves -itself into the question, How to establish the best possible -relations between those who want to learn and those who -want to teach, and he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">No one, probably, will deny that the best relation between -a teacher and his pupils is a natural one, and that the opposite -to a natural one is a compulsory one. If that be so, then the -measure of all scholastic methods consists in the greater or -lesser naturalness, and consequently in the less or more -compulsion employed. The less the children are compelled, -the better is the method; the more they are compelled, the -worse is the method. I am glad that it is not necessary for -me to prove this obvious truth. All are agreed that it cannot -be good for health to employ foods, medicines, or exercises -which create disgust or pain; and so also in learning, there can -be no need to compel children to grind at anything dull or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -repugnant to them; and if it seems necessary to use compulsion, -that fact can merely prove the imperfection of the -methods employed. All who have taught children have -probably noticed that the worse the teacher knows the subject -he is dealing with and the less he likes it, the more he has to -be stern and the more compulsion he has to use; while on the -contrary, the better the teacher knows and loves his subject, -the more free and natural will be his tuition.</p> - -<p class="i2">If history be closely examined, it will be found that every -advance in pedagogics has consisted merely in a diminution of -compulsion, a facilitation of study, and a greater and greater approach -to naturalness in the relations between teacher and pupil.</p> - -<p class="i2">People have asked, How can we find the degree of freedom -to be allowed in school? To which I reply that the limit of -that freedom is naturally defined by the teacher, by his knowledge, -and by his capacity to manage the school. Such -freedom cannot be dictated; its measure is merely the result -of the greater or lesser knowledge and talent possessed by the -master. Freedom is not a rule, but it serves as a gauge when -comparing one school with another, or when judging of new -methods. The school in which there is less compulsion, is -better than the one in which there is more. That method -is good which, when introduced into a school, does not -necessitate any increase of discipline; while that is certainly -bad which necessitates greater severity.</p> - -<p>From his main subject of Education, Tolstoy digresses -in these articles into a discussion of other problems, in a -way which reminds one of those wonderful essays he began -to pour forth a quarter of a century later.</p> - -<p>That he had been somewhat influenced by the Slavophils -is indicated by his readiness to assume that Russia may -advance along a line of her own, entirely different to that -the Western nations have travelled. 'Progress,' in which -like almost all his contemporaries he had believed, he -now questions; and he indulges in a sharp attack on -Macaulay for the third chapter of his <i>History</i>, which he -says contains no proof that any real progress has been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -achieved. Buckle, similarly, is roughly handled for the -assumption of progress that underlies his <i>History of -Civilisation</i>; but most scathing of all is his onslaught -upon Hegel, who (till Darwin appeared) was the rock on -which many of the intellectual Liberals took their stand.</p> - -<p class="i2">From the time of Hegel and his famous aphorism: 'What -is historic is reasonable,' a very queer mental hocus-pocus has prevailed -in literary and in verbal disputes, especially among us, -under the name of 'the historic view.' You say, for instance, that -man has a right to freedom, or to be tried on the basis of laws of -which he himself approves; but the historic view replies that -history evolves a certain historic moment conditioning a certain -historic legislation and a people's historic relation thereto. -You say you believe in a God; and the historic view replies -that history evolves certain historic views and humanity's -relation to those views. You say the <i>Iliad</i> is the greatest of -epic works; and the historic view replies that the <i>Iliad</i> is -merely the expression of the historic consciousness of a people -at a certain historic moment. On this basis, the historic view -does not dispute with you as to whether man needs freedom, -or whether there is or is not a God, or whether the <i>Iliad</i> is good -or bad: it does nothing to establish the freedom you desire; -to persuade or dissuade you of the existence of a God or of the -beauty of the <i>Iliad</i>; it merely points out to you the place your -inner need or your love of truth or beauty, occupy in history. -It merely recognises—and recognises not by direct cognition, -but by historic ratiocination.</p> - -<p class="i2">Say that you love or believe anything, and the historic view -tells you: 'Love and believe, and your love and faith will find -their place in our historic view. Ages will pass and we shall -find the place you are to occupy in history. Know however in -advance, that what you love is not absolutely beautiful, and what -you believe in is not absolutely true; yet amuse yourselves, children: -your love and faith will find their place and application.'</p> - -<p class="i2">It is only necessary to add the word 'historic' to any conception -you like, and that conception loses its real vital -meaning, in an artificially-formed historic world-conception.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -Of the introduction of telegraphs and railways he -remarks that people attribute great importance to these -inventions, and boast of the progress that is being made, -declaring that:</p> - -<p class="i2">'Man is mastering the forces of Nature. Thought, with the -rapidity of lightning, flies from one end of the world to the -other. Time is vanquished.'</p> - -<p>This, says Tolstoy, is excellent and touching.</p> - -<p class="i2">But let us see who gains by it. We are speaking of the -progress of the electric telegraph. Evidently the advantage -and use of the telegraph is reserved for the upper, so-called -'educated' class; while the people, nine-tenths of the whole, -only hear the droning of the wires and are hampered by the -strict laws made for the protection of the telegraph.</p> - -<p class="i2">Along the wires flies the thought that the demand for such-and-such -an article has increased, and that the price must -therefore be raised; or the thought that I, a Russian landed -proprietress, living in Florence, have, thank God, recovered from -my nervous prostration, and that I embrace my adored husband -and beg him to send me 40,000 francs as quickly as possible.</p> - -<p class="i2">Without going into exact statistics of the messages sent, -one may be quite sure that they all belong to the kind of -correspondence of which the above are samples. No peasant -of Yásnaya Polyána in the Government of Toúla, or any other -Russian peasant (and let it not be forgotten that the peasants -form the mass of the people whose welfare 'progress' is -supposed to secure) ever has sent or received, or for a long -time to come will either send or receive, a single telegram. -All the messages that fly above his head add no jot to his -welfare, because all he needs he gets from his own fields and -his own woods, and he is equally indifferent to the cheapness -or dearness of sugar or cotton, to the dethronement of King -Otho, the speeches of Palmerston and Napoleon III, or the -feelings of the lady in Florence. All those thoughts that fly -with the rapidity of lightning round the world, do not increase -the fertility of his fields nor diminish the strictness of the -keepers in the squire's or the Crown's forests, nor do they add<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -to his or his family's working power, or supply him with -an extra labourer. All these great thoughts may impair his -welfare, but cannot secure or further it, and can have but a -negative interest for him. To the True-Believers in progress, -however, the telegraph wires have brought and are bringing -immense advantages. I do not deny those advantages: I only -wish to prove that one must not think, or persuade others, -that what is advantageous for me, is a great blessing to all the -world....</p> - -<p class="i2">In the opinion of the Russian people what increases their -welfare is an increase of the fertility of the soil, an increase in -the herds of cattle, an increase of the quantity of grain and its -consequently becoming cheaper, an increase of working power, -an increase in woods and pastures, and the absence of town -temptations. (I beg the reader to observe that no peasant -ever complains of the cheapness of bread; it is only the -political economists of Western Europe who soothe him with -the prospect that bread will become dearer and render it more -possible for him to purchase manufactured articles, in which he -is not interested.)</p> - -<p class="i2">Which of these benefits does the railway bring to the -peasant? It increases the temptations; it destroys the woods; -it draws away labourers; it raises the price of grain....</p> - -<p class="i2">The real people, that is to say those who themselves work -and live productively—nine-tenths of the whole nation—without -whom no progress is conceivable, are always hostile to the -railway. And so what it comes to is this: that the believers -in 'progress,' a small part of society, say that railways increase -the welfare of the people; while the larger part of the nation -say that the railways decrease it.</p> - -<p>Interesting, stimulating and suggestive as Tolstoy's -articles were, and valuable as was the experience gained in -his school, his magazine had very few subscribers and only -existed for one year: the twelfth number was the last.</p> - -<p>In an article written thirteen years later, he says of his -attempts in 1861-2:</p> - -<p class="i2">At that time I met with no sympathy in the educational -journals, nor even with any contradiction, but only with the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -completest indifference to the question I was raising. There -were, it is true, some attacks on a few insignificant details, but -the question itself evidently interested no one. I was young -at that time, and this indifference galled me. I did not understand -that I with my question: How do you know what and -how to teach? was like a man who, in an assembly of Turkish -Pachas discussing how to collect more taxes from the people, -should say to them: Gentlemen, before discussing how much -to take from each man, we must first consider what right we -have to collect taxes at all? Obviously, the Pachas would -continue to discuss the methods of collecting, and would ignore -the irrelevant question.</p> - -<p>Before passing on to tell of the actual working of the -Yásnaya Polyána school, there is one matter to be noted, -small indeed in itself, but characteristic, and helpful for the -understanding of Tolstoy's later development.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's personal honour has never been questioned, -and the reader will remember that at Sevastopol he flatly -refused to touch money which, according to the long-standing -regimental custom, was at his disposal. Well, in his -magazine he printed a story written by one of the boys -in the school, and appraised it with enthusiasm. The hero -of the story, who had been wretchedly poor, returns from -the army with money to spare, and explains the matter -to his wife by saying: 'I was a non-commissioned officer -and had Crown money to pay out to the soldiers, and -some remaining over, I kept it.'</p> - -<p>Commenting on this, Tolstoy says:</p> - -<p class="i2">It is revealed that the soldier has become rich, and has done -so in the simplest and most natural manner, just as almost -everybody does who becomes rich—that is, by other people's, -the Crown's, or somebody's, money remaining in his hands owing -to a fortunate accident. Some readers have remarked that this -incident is immoral, and that the people's conception of the -Crown as a milch cow should be eradicated and not confirmed. -But not to speak of its artistic truth, I particularly value that -trait in the story. Does not the Crown money always stop -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -somewhere? And why should it not, once in a way, stop with -a homeless soldier like Gordéy?</p> - -<p class="i2">In the views of honesty held by the peasants and the upper -class, a complete contrast is often noticeable. The peasants' -demands are specially serious and strict with regard to honesty -in the nearest relations of life; for instance, in respect to one's -family, one's village, or one's commune. In respect to outsiders: -the public, the Crown, or foreigners, or the Treasury -especially, the applicability of the rules of honesty seems to -them obscure. A peasant who would never tell a lie to his -brother peasant, and who would bear all possible hardships for -the sake of his family, and not take a farthing from a fellow-villager -or neighbour without having fully earned it—will be -ready to squeeze a foreigner or a townsman like an orange, and -at every second word will lie to a gentleman or an official. If -he is a soldier, he will without the slightest twinge of conscience -stab a French prisoner, and should Crown money come his way, -he would consider it a crime to his family not to take it. In the -upper class, on the contrary, it is quite the reverse.... I do not -say which is better, I only say what I believe to be the case....</p> - -<p class="i2">To return to the story. The mention of the Crown money, -which at first seems immoral, in our opinion has a most sweet -and touching character. How often a writer of our circle, -when wishing to show his hero as an ideal of honesty, naďvely -displays to us the dirty and depraved nature of his own imagination! -Here, on the contrary, the author has to make his hero -happy. His return to his family would suffice for that, but it -was also necessary to remove the poverty which for so many -years had weighed on the family. Where was he to take money -from? From the impersonal Crown! If the author is to -give him wealth, it has to be taken from some one, and it -could not have been found in a more legitimate or reasonable -way.</p> - -<p>No doubt Tolstoy's statement of peasant morality is -true enough; but Tolstoy's attitude towards the matter -is remarkable. He has always had a keen sense of personal -morality, but when public morality was in question, his -decisions seem to me often to have been at fault.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -Passing from the moral to the economic aspect of the -question, to Western ears it sounds strange to hear the -medieval or Oriental conception so boldly announced, that -property 'has to be taken from some one' before it can -be obtained. In our world, wealth has, during the last -five generations, been increased enormously by inventions, -by organisation, by division of labour, by the skilful utilisation -of the forces of Nature, as well as by co-operation and -the bringing together into one place of industries and -individuals mutually helpful; and it has become impossible -for us to believe that the <i>only</i> way to obtain -wealth is by depriving some one else of wealth they already -possess.</p> - - -<h3>AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VII</h3> - -<p>Birukof.</p> - -<p>Fet.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's letter to A. Maude.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's Educational Articles.</p> - -<p>Löwenfeld's <i>Leo N. Tolstoj</i>.</p> - -<p>P. A. Sergeyenko in <i>Niva</i>, No. 7, 1906.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="chap8">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -THE SCHOOL</h2> - -<p class="i2">Yásno-Polyána School. Freedom in class. Natural laws. -A fight. Theft and punishment. A walk and talk on art. -Peasants' opinion of the school. Gymnastics. Reading. -The Bible. Penmanship. Grammar. History. Geography. -Drawing. Singing. Composition. A literary genius. Art: -exclusive or universal? Reading useless for lack of what to -read. The value of freedom in education. A contrast.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">As</span> already mentioned, Tolstoy's magazine, besides its -theoretical articles, contained others describing the work -done at the Yásno-Polyána school, and from these we -learn in his own words, how Tolstoy and his pupils, and -the masters (including the young German, Keller, whom -he had brought back with him from abroad) were occupied -in November and December 1861. The following -passages are part of his description of the school:</p> - -<p class="i2">No one brings anything with him, neither books nor copy-books. -No homework is set them. Not only do they carry -nothing in their hands, they have nothing to carry even in -their heads. They are not obliged to remember any lesson, -nor any of yesterday's work. They are not tormented by the -thought of the impending lesson. They bring only themselves, -their receptive nature, and an assurance that it will be as jolly -in school to-day as it was yesterday. They do not think of -their classes till they have begun. No one is ever scolded for -being late, and they never are late, except perhaps some of the -older boys whose fathers occasionally keep them at home to do -some work. In such cases the boy comes to school running<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> -fast and panting. Until the teacher arrives, some gather at -the porch, pushing one another off the steps or sliding on the -ice-covered path, and some go into the rooms. When it is -cold, while waiting for the master, they read, write, or play -about. The girls do not mix with the boys. When the boys -take any notice of the girls, they never address any one of them -in particular, but always speak to them collectively: 'Hey, -girls, why don't you come and slide?' or, 'Look how frozen -the girls are,' or, 'Now girls, all of you against me!'</p> - -<p class="i2">Suppose that by the time-table the lesson for the youngest -class is elementary reading; for the second, advanced reading; -and for the third, mathematics. The teacher enters the room, -on the floor of which the boys are lying in a heap, shouting, 'The -heap is too small!' or, 'Boys, you're choking me!' or, 'Don't -pull my hair!' etc.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Peter Miháylovitch!' cries a voice from the bottom of the -heap, to the teacher as he enters: 'Tell them to stop!'—'Good -morning, Peter Miháylovitch!' cry others, continuing -their scrimmage. The teacher takes the books and gives them -to those who have followed him to the cupboard, while from -the heap of boys on the floor, those on top, still sprawling, -demand books. The heap gradually diminishes. As soon as -most of the boys have taken books, the rest run to the cupboard -crying, 'Me too! Me too!'—'Give me yesterday's -book!'—'Give me Kóltsof!' and so forth. If a couple of boys -excited by their struggle still remain on the floor, those who -have taken books and settled down, shout at them, 'What are -you up to? We can't hear anything! Stop it!' The excited -ones submit, and, panting, take to their books; and only just -at first swing their legs with unspent excitement as they sit -reading. The spirit of war flies away and the spirit of reading -reigns in the room. With the same ardour with which he -pulled Mítka's hair, he now reads Kóltsof's works: with -almost clenched teeth, with sparkling eyes, and oblivious of all -around him but his book. To tear him from his reading now -would need as much effort as formerly to tear him from his -wrestling.</p> - -<p class="i2">They sit where they like: on the benches, tables, window-sills, -floor, or in the arm-chair. The girls always sit together.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -Friends from the same village, especially the little ones (among -whom there is most comradeship) always sit together. As soon -as one of them decides that he will sit in a certain corner, all -his chums, pushing and diving under the forms, get there too, -and sit together looking about them with faces that express -as much happiness and satisfaction as though, having settled in -that place, they would certainly be happy for the rest of their -lives. The large arm-chair (which somehow found its way into -the room) is an object coveted by the more independent personalities.... -As soon as one of them decides to sit in it, -another discerns his intention from his looks, and they collide -and squeeze in. One dislodges the other, and curling up, -sprawls with his head far below the back, but reads like the -rest, quite absorbed in his work. During lessons I have never -seen them whispering, pinching, giggling, laughing behind -their hands, or complaining of one another to the teacher.</p> - -<p class="i2">The two lower classes sort themselves in one room, the upper -class in another. The teacher appears, and in the first class all -surround him at the blackboard, or lie on the forms, or sit on -the table, near him or near one of the boys who reads. If it is -a writing lesson, they place themselves in a more orderly way, -but keep getting up to look at one another's exercise books, -and to show their own to the teacher. According to the time-table -there should be four lessons before dinner; but sometimes -in practice these become three or two, and may be on quite -other subjects. The teacher may begin with arithmetic and pass -on to geometry; or may begin with Sacred History and end up -with grammar. Sometimes teacher and pupils are so carried -away, that a lesson lasts three hours instead of one. Sometimes -the pupils themselves cry: 'Go on, go on!' and shout contemptuously -to any who are tired: 'If you're tired, go to the -little ones!'</p> - -<p class="i2">In my opinion this external disorder is useful and necessary, -however strange and inconvenient it may seem to the teacher. -Of its advantages I shall have frequent occasion to speak; but -of its apparent disadvantages I will say:</p> - -<p class="i2">First, this disorder, or free order, only frightens us because -we ourselves were educated in, and are accustomed to, something -quite different. Secondly, in this as in many similar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -cases, coercion is used only from hastiness or from lack of -respect for human nature. We think the disorder is growing -greater and greater, and that it has no limit. We think there -is no way of stopping it except by force; but one need only -wait a little, and the disorder (or animation) calms down of -itself, and calms down into a far better and more durable order -than any we could devise.</p> - -<p>In another place he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">Our school evolved freely from the principles brought into -it by the teachers and pupils. In spite of the predominant -influence of the teacher, the pupil always had the right not to -go to school; and even when in school, not to listen to the -teacher. The teacher had the right not to admit a pupil....</p> - -<p class="i2">Submitting naturally only to laws derived from their own -nature, children revolt and rebel when subjected to your premature -interference. They do not believe in the validity of -your bells and time-tables and rules. How often have I seen -children fighting. The teacher rushes to separate them, and the -separated enemies look at one another askance, and even in the -stern teacher's presence cannot refrain from giving one another -a parting blow, yet more painful than its predecessors. How -often, any day, do I see some Kirúshka, clenching his teeth, fly -at Taráska, seize his hair, and throw him to the ground, -apparently—though it costs him his life—determined to maim his -foe; yet not a minute passes before Taráska is already laughing -under Kirúshka. One, and then the other, moderates his -blows, and before five minutes have passed they have made -friends, and off they go to sit together.</p> - -<p class="i2">The other day, between lessons, two boys were struggling in -a corner. The one, a remarkable mathematician about ten -years old, is in the second class; the other, a close-cropped lad, -the son of a servant, is a clever but vindictive, tiny, black-eyed -lad, nicknamed Pussy. Pussy seized the mathematician's long -hair and jammed his head against the wall; the mathematician -vainly clutched at Pussy's close-cropped bristles. Pussy's black -eyes gleamed triumphantly. The mathematician, hardly refraining -from tears, kept saying: 'Well, well, what of it?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -But though he tried to keep up appearances, it was plain he -was faring badly. This went on for some time, and I was in -doubt what to do. 'A fight, a fight!' shouted the boys, and -crowded towards the corner. The little ones laughed; but -the bigger ones, though they did not interfere, exchanged -serious glances, and their silence and these glances did not -escape Pussy's observation. He understood that he was doing -something wrong, and began to smile shamefacedly, and by -degrees let go of the mathematician's hair. The mathematician -shook himself free, and giving Pussy a push that -banged the back of the latter's head against the wall, went off -satisfied. Pussy began to cry, and rushed after his enemy, -hitting him as hard as he could on his sheepskin coat, but -without hurting him. The mathematician wished to pay him -back, but at that moment several disapproving voices were -raised. 'There now; he's fighting a little fellow!' cried the -onlookers, 'get away, Pussy!'—and therewith the affair ended -as though it had never occurred, except, I think, that both -combatants retained a dim consciousness that fighting is unpleasant, -because both get hurt.</p> - -<p class="i2">In this case I seemed to detect a feeling of fairness influencing -the crowd; but how often such affairs are settled so that -one does not know what law has decided them, and yet both -sides are satisfied! How arbitrary and unjust by comparison -are all School methods of dealing with such cases. 'You are -both to blame: kneel down!' says the teacher; and the -teacher is wrong, because one boy is in the wrong, and that one -triumphs while on his knees, and chews the cud of his unexpended -anger, while the innocent one is doubly punished....</p> - -<p class="i2">I am convinced that the School should not interfere with -that part of education which belongs to the family. The -School should not, and has no right to, reward or punish; and -the best police and administration of a School consist in giving -full freedom to the pupils to learn and get on among themselves -as they like. I am convinced of this; and yet the customary -School habits are still so strong in us that in the Yásno-Polyána -school we frequently break this rule....</p> - -<p class="i2">During last summer, while the school-house was being -repaired, a Leyden jar disappeared from the physical cabinet;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -pencils disappeared repeatedly, as well as books—and this at -a time when neither the carpenters nor the painters were -at work. We questioned the boys. The best pupils, those -who had been with us longest, old friends of ours, blushed and -were so uneasy that any Public Prosecutor would have thought -their confusion a sure proof of their guilt. But I knew them, -and could answer for them as for myself. I understood that -the very idea of being suspected offended them deeply and -painfully. A gifted and tender-hearted boy, whom I will call -Theodore, turned quite pale, trembled and wept. They promised -to tell me, if they found out; but they declined to -undertake a search. A few days later the thief was discovered. -He was the son of a servant from a distant village. He had -led astray, and made an accomplice of, a peasant boy from the -same village; and together they had hidden the stolen articles -in a box. This discovery produced a strange feeling in the -other pupils: a kind of relief and even joy, accompanied by -contempt and pity for the thief. We proposed that they should -allot the punishment themselves. Some demanded that the -thief should be flogged, but stipulated that they should do the -flogging; others said: 'Sew a card on him, with the word -<i>thief</i>.' This latter punishment, to our shame be it said, had -been used by us before, and it was the very boy who a year ago -had himself been labelled <i>liar</i>, who now most insistently -demanded a card for the thief. We consented, and when one -of the girls was sewing the card on, all the pupils watched and -teased the punished boys with malicious joy. They wanted the -punishment increased: 'Let them be led through the village; -and let them wear cards till the holidays,' said they. The -victims cried. The peasant boy who had been led astray by his -comrade, a gifted narrator and jester, a plump, white, chubby -little chap, wept without restraint and with all his childish -might. The other, the chief offender, a hump-nosed boy with -a thin-featured, clever face, became pale, his lips quivered, his -eyes looked wildly and angrily at his joyous comrades, and -occasionally his face was unnaturally distorted by a sob. His -cap, with a torn peak, was stuck on the very back of his head; -his hair was ruffled, his clothes soiled with chalk. All this now -struck me and everybody else as though we saw it for the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -time. The unkindly attention of all was directed to him, and -he felt it painfully. When, with bent head and without looking -round, he started homeward with (as it seemed to me) a -peculiar, criminal gait, and when the boys ran after him in -a crowd, teasing him in an unnatural and strangely cruel -way as though, against their will, they were moved by some -evil spirit, something told me that we were not doing right. -But things took their course, and the thief wore the card that -whole day. From this time he began, as it seemed to me, to -learn worse, and one did not see him playing and talking with -his fellows out of class.</p> - -<p class="i2">One day I came to a lesson, and the pupils informed me, with -a kind of horror, that the boy had again stolen. He had taken -twenty copecks (seven pence) in coppers from the teacher's room, -and had been caught hiding them under the stairs. We again -hung a card on him; and again the same revolting scene recommenced. -I began to admonish him, as all masters admonish; -and a big boy, fond of talking, who was present, also admonished -him—probably repeating words he had heard his -father, an innkeeper, use: 'You steal once, and you do it -again,' said he distinctly, glibly, and with dignity; 'it becomes -a habit, and leads to no good.' I began to get vexed. I -glanced at the face of the punished boy, which had become yet -paler, more suffering and harder than before; and somehow I -thought of convicts, and suddenly I felt so ashamed and -disgusted that I tore the stupid card off him, told him to go -where he liked, and became convinced—and convinced not by -reason, but by my whole nature—that I had no right to -torment that unfortunate boy, and that it was not in my power -to make of him what I and the innkeeper's son wanted to make -of him. I became convinced that there are secrets of the soul, -hidden from us, on which life may act, but which precepts and -punishments do not reach.</p> - -<p>It may be said that any department of life could be -treated in this way: we have merely to invert an established -order founded on the experience of men, and a -topsy-turvy millennium is born. It may also be said that -in the foregoing pages Tolstoy appears as the evangelist -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -of an educational system founded on the free play of -youthful instincts which, speaking merely the language of -natural animal life, call for sympathetic discipline. But -in his <i>Confession</i> Tolstoy has treated his educational writings -with such scant respect that criticism is disarmed; -more especially as the actual working of his school was -extremely interesting and much more successful than might -have been expected.</p> - -<p>N. V. Ouspénsky, the writer, narrates that he visited -Yásnaya Polyána in 1862, and Tolstoy, having to leave -him alone for awhile, asked him to glance at some of the -compositions the boys had written in school. Taking up -one of these, Ouspénsky read:</p> - -<p class="i2">One day, Lyóf Nikoláyevitch (Tolstoy) called Savóskin up to -the blackboard and ordered him to solve a problem in arithmetic. -'If I give you five rolls, and you eat one of them, how -many rolls will you have left?'... Savóskin could nohow solve -this problem, and the Count pulled his hair for it....</p> - -<p>When Tolstoy returned Ouspénsky pointed out to him -this essay, and Tolstoy, sighing heavily, crossed his hands -before him and merely said: 'Life in this world is a hard -task.'</p> - -<p>Ouspénsky considered that he had unearthed an extraordinary -contradiction between theory and practice; but -no one who realises the difficulty and novelty of Tolstoy's -attempt, and how far he is from claiming perfection for -himself or for his achievements, should agree with -Ouspénsky. On the contrary, the essay proves a freedom -of relation between teacher and pupil, which would -certainly not have existed had the hair-pulling been other -than impulsive and exceptional.</p> - -<p>The school was closed, or nearly so, during the summer, -as most of the pupils then helped their parents with field -work; obtaining, Tolstoy considers, more mental development -that way than they could have done in any school. To make -up for this, the hours of study in winter were long.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -The classes generally finish about eight or nine o'clock -(unless carpentering keeps the elder boys somewhat later), and -the whole band run shouting into the yard, and there, calling -to one another, begin to separate, making for different parts of -the village. Occasionally they arrange to coast down-hill to -the village in a large sledge that stands outside the gate. They -tie up the shafts, throw themselves into it, and squealing, disappear -from sight in a cloud of snow, leaving here and there on -their path black patches of children who have tumbled out. In -the open air, out of school (for all its freedom) new relations -are formed between pupil and teacher: freer, simpler and more -trustful—those very relations which seem to us the ideal which -School should aim at.</p> - -<p class="i2">Not long ago we read Gógol's story <i>Viy</i> [an Earth-Spirit] in -the highest class. The final scenes affected them strongly, and -excited their imagination. Some of them played the witch, -and kept alluding to the last chapters....</p> - -<p class="i2">Out of doors it was a moonless, winter night, with clouds in -the sky, not cold. We stopped at the crossroads. The elder -boys, in their third year, stopped near me, asking me to accompany -them further. The younger ones looked at us, and -rushed off down-hill. They had begun to learn with a new -master, and between them and me there is not the same confidence -as between the older boys and myself.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Well, let us go to the wood' (a small wood about 120 yards -from the house), said one of them. The most insistent was -Fédka, a boy of ten, with a tender, receptive, poetic yet daring -nature. Danger seems to form the chief condition of pleasure -for him. In summer it always frightened me to see how he, -with two other boys, would swim out into the very middle of -the pond, which is nearly 120 yards wide, and would now and -then disappear in the hot reflection of the summer sun, and -swim under water; and how he would then turn on his back, -causing fountains of water to rise, and calling with his high-pitched -voice to his comrades on the bank to see what a fine -fellow he was.</p> - -<p class="i2">He now knew there were wolves in the wood, and so he -wanted to go there. All agreed; and the four of us went to the -wood. Another boy, a lad of twelve, physically and morally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -strong, whom I will call Syómka, went on in front and kept -calling and 'ah-ou-ing' with his ringing voice, to some one at -a distance. Prónka, a sickly, mild and very gifted lad, from a -poor family (sickly probably chiefly from lack of food), walked -by my side. Fédka walked between me and Syómka, talking -all the time in a particularly gentle voice: now relating how -he had herded horses in summer, now saying there was nothing -to be afraid of, and now asking, 'Suppose one should jump -out?' and insisting on my giving some reply. We did not go -into the wood: that would have been too dreadful; but even -where we were, near the wood, it was darker, and the road was -scarcely visible, and the lights of the village were hidden from -view. Syómka stopped and listened: 'Stop, lads! What is -that?' said he suddenly.</p> - -<p class="i2">We were silent, and though we heard nothing, things seemed -to grow more gruesome.</p> - -<p class="i2">'What shall we do if it leaps out ... and comes at us?' -asked Fédka.</p> - -<p class="i2">We began to talk about Caucasian robbers. They remembered -a Caucasian tale I had told them long ago, and I again -told them of 'braves,' of Cossacks, and of Hádji Mourát.<a name="FNanchor_46" id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> -Syómka went on in front, treading boldly in his big boots, his -broad back swaying regularly. Prónka tried to walk by my side, -but Fédka pushed him off the path, and Prónka—who, probably -on account of his poverty, always submitted—only ran up alongside -at the most interesting passages, sinking in the snow up to -his knees.</p> - -<p class="i2">Every one who knows anything of Russian peasant children -knows that they are not accustomed to, and cannot bear, any -caresses, affectionate words, kisses, hand touchings, and so -forth. I have seen a lady in a peasant school, wishing to pet a -boy, say: 'Come, I will give you a kiss, dear!' and actually -kiss him; and the boy was ashamed and offended, and could -not understand why he had been so treated. Boys of five are -already above such caresses—they are no longer babies. I was -therefore particularly struck when Fédka, walking beside me, -at the most terrible part of the story suddenly touched me -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -lightly with his sleeve, and then clasped two of my fingers in -his hand, and kept hold of them. As soon as I stopped speaking, -Fédka demanded that I should go on, and did this in -such a beseeching and agitated voice that it was impossible not -to comply with his wish.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Now then, don't get in the way!' said he once angrily to -Prónka, who had run in front of us. He was so carried away -as even to be cruel; so agitated yet happy was he, holding on -to my fingers, that he could let no one dare to interrupt his -pleasure.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Some more! Some more! It is fine!' said he.</p> - -<p class="i2">We had passed the wood and were approaching the village -from the other end.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Let's go on,' said all the boys when the lights became -visible. 'Let us take another turn!'</p> - -<p class="i2">We went on in silence, sinking here and there in the rotten -snow, not hardened by much traffic. A white darkness seemed -to sway before our eyes; the clouds hung low, as though something -had heaped them upon us. There was no end to that -whiteness, amid which we alone crunched along the snow. -The wind sounded through the bare tops of the aspens, but -where we were, behind the woods, it was calm.</p> - -<p class="i2">I finished my story by telling how a 'brave,' surrounded by -his enemies, sang his death-song and threw himself on his -dagger. All were silent.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Why did he sing a song when he was surrounded?' asked -Syómka.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Weren't you told?—He was preparing for death!' replied -Fédka, aggrieved.</p> - -<p class="i2">'I think he sang a prayer,' added Prónka.</p> - -<p class="i2">All agreed. Fédka suddenly stopped.</p> - -<p class="i2">'How was it, you told us, your Aunt had her throat cut?' -asked he. (He had not yet had enough horrors.) 'Tell us! -Tell us!'</p> - -<p class="i2">I again told them that terrible story of the murder of the -Countess Tolstoy,<a name="FNanchor_47" id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> and they stood silently about me, watching -my face.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -'The fellow got caught!' said Syómka.</p> - -<p class="i2">'He was afraid to go away in the night, while she was lying -with her throat cut!' said Fédka; 'I should have run away!' -and he gathered my two fingers yet more closely in his hand.</p> - -<p class="i2">We stopped in the thicket, beyond the threshing-floor at the -very end of the village. Syómka picked up a dry stick from -the snow and began striking it against the frosty trunk of a lime -tree. Hoar frost fell from the branches on to one's cap, and -the noise of the blows resounded in the stillness of the wood.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Lyóf Nikoláyevitch,' said Fédka to me (I thought he was -going again to speak about the Countess), 'why does one learn -singing? I often think, why, really, does one?'</p> - -<p class="i2">What made him jump from the terror of the murder to this -question, heaven only knows; yet by the tone of his voice, -the seriousness with which he demanded an answer, and the -attentive silence of the other two, one felt that there was some -vital and legitimate connection between this question and our -preceding talk. Whether the connection lay in some response -to my suggestion that crime might be explained by lack of -education (I had spoken of that) or whether he was testing -himself—transferring himself into the mind of the murderer and -remembering his own favourite occupation (he has a wonderful -voice and immense musical talent) or whether the connection -lay in the fact that he felt that now was the time for -sincere conversation, and all the problems demanding solution -rose in his mind—at any rate his question surprised none of us.</p> - -<p class="i2">'And what is drawing for? And why write well?' said I, -not knowing at all how to explain to him what art is for.</p> - -<p class="i2">'What is drawing for?' repeated he thoughtfully. He really -was asking, What is Art for? And I neither dared nor could -explain.</p> - -<p class="i2">'What is drawing for?' said Syómka. 'Why, you draw anything, -and can then make it from the drawing.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'No, that is designing,' said Fédka. 'But why draw figures?'</p> - -<p class="i2">Syómka's matter-of-fact mind was not perplexed.</p> - -<p class="i2">'What is a stick for, and what is a lime tree for?' said he, -still striking the tree.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Yes, what is a lime tree for?' said I.</p> - -<p class="i2">'To make rafters of,' replied Syómka.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -'But what is it for in summer, when not yet cut down?'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Then, it's no use.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'No, really,' insisted Fédka; 'why does a lime tree grow?'</p> - -<p class="i2">And we began to speak of the fact that not everything exists -for use, but that there is also beauty, and that Art is beauty; -and we understood one another, and Fédka quite understood -why the lime tree grows and what singing is for.</p> - -<p class="i2">Prónka agreed with us, but he thought rather of moral -beauty: goodness.</p> - -<p class="i2">Syómka understood with his big brain, but did not acknowledge -beauty apart from usefulness. He was in doubt (as often -happens to men with great reasoning power): feeling Art to -be a force, but not feeling in his soul the need of that force. -He, like them, wished to get at Art by his reason, and tried to -kindle that fire in himself.</p> - -<p class="i2">'We'll sing <i>Who hath</i> to-morrow. I remember my part,' said -he. (He has a correct ear, but no taste or refinement in singing.) -Fédka, however, fully understood that the lime tree is good when -in leaf: good to look at in summer; and that that is enough.</p> - -<p class="i2">Prónka understood that it is a pity to cut it down, because -it, too, has life:</p> - -<p class="i2">'Why, when we take the sap of a lime, it's like taking blood.'</p> - -<p class="i2">Syómka, though he did not say so, evidently thought that -there was little use in a lime when it was sappy.</p> - -<p class="i2">It feels strange to repeat what we then said, but it seems to -me that we said all that can be said about utility, and plastic -and moral beauty.</p> - -<p class="i2">We went on to the village. Fédka still clung to my hand; -now, it seemed to me, from gratitude. We all were nearer one -another that night than we had been for a long time. Prónka -walked beside us along the broad village street.</p> - -<p class="i2">'See, there is still a light in Mazánof's house,' said he. 'As -I was going to school this morning, Gavrúka was coming from -the pub, as dru-u-nk as could be! His horse all in a lather -and he beating it! I am always sorry for such things. Really, -why should it be beaten?'</p> - -<p class="i2">'And the other day, coming from Toúla, my daddy gave his -horse the reins,' said Syómka; 'and it took him into a snow-drift -and there he slept—quite drunk.'</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -'And Gavrúka kept on beating his horse over the eyes, and I -felt so sorry,' repeated Prónka again. 'Why should he beat it? -He got down and just flogged it.'</p> - -<p class="i2">Syómka suddenly stopped.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Our folk are already asleep,' said he, looking in at the -window of his crooked, dirty hut. 'Won't you walk a little -longer?'</p> - -<p class="i2">'No.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Go-o-od-bye, Lyóf Nikoláyevitch!' shouted he suddenly, and -tearing himself away from us, as it were with an effort, he ran -to the house, lifted the latch and disappeared.</p> - -<p class="i2">'So you will take each of us home? First one and then the -other?' said Fédka.</p> - -<p class="i2">We went on. There was a light in Prónka's hut, and we -looked in at the window. His mother, a tall and handsome -but toil-worn woman, with black eyebrows and eyes, sat at the -table, peeling potatoes. In the middle of the hut hung a -cradle. Prónka's brother, the mathematician from our second -class, was standing at the table, eating potatoes with salt. It -was a black, tiny, and dirty hut.</p> - -<p class="i2">'What a plague you are!' shouted the mother at Prónka. -'Where have you been?'</p> - -<p class="i2">Prónka glanced at the window with a meek, sickly smile. -His mother guessed that he had not come alone, and her face -immediately assumed a feigned expression that was not nice.</p> - -<p class="i2">Only Fédka was left.</p> - -<p class="i2">'The travelling tailors are at our house, that is why there's -a light there,' said he in the softened voice that had come to -him that evening. 'Good-bye, Lyóf Nikoláyevitch!' added he, -softly and tenderly, and he began to knock with the ring -attached to the closed door. 'Let me in!' his high-pitched -voice rang out amid the winter stillness of the village. It was -long before they opened the door for him. I looked in at the -window. The hut was a large one. The father was playing -cards with a tailor, and some copper coins lay on the table. -The wife, Fédka's stepmother, was sitting near the torch-stand, -looking eagerly at the money. The young tailor, a cunning -drunkard, was holding his cards on the table, bending them, -and looking triumphantly at his opponent. Fédka's father, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -collar of his shirt unbuttoned, his brow wrinkled with mental -exertion and vexation, changed one card for another, and -waved his horny hand in perplexity above them.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Let me in!'</p> - -<p class="i2">The woman rose and went to the door.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Good-bye!' repeated Fédka, once again. 'Let us always -have such walks!'</p> - -<p>Thus Tolstoy for the second time found himself faced -by the question: What is Art? which had arisen when he -spoke to the Society of Lovers of Russian Literature. -This time it was put to him by a ten-year-old peasant -boy, and it seemed to him that: 'We said all that can be -said about utility, and plastic and moral beauty.' Twenty -years later, after achieving the highest fame as a literary -artist, he returned to the subject and tried to write an -essay on the connection between life and Art, thinking -that he would be able to accomplish it at a single effort. -It proved, however, as he tells us, 'that my views on the -matter were so far from clear, that I could not arrange -them in a way that satisfied me. From that time I did -not cease to think of the subject, and I recommenced -writing on it six or seven times; but each time, after -writing a considerable part of it, I found myself unable to -bring the work to a satisfactory conclusion, and had to -put it aside.' Only after another fifteen years' study and -reflection did he succeed, in 1898, in producing <i>What is -Art?</i> which raised such a storm in the esthetic dovecots, -and induced the editor of <i>Literature</i> to declare that 'There -was never any reason for inferring that Count Tolstoy's -opinions on the philosophy of art would be worth the -paper on which they were written'; while A. B. Walkley -was asserting that 'this calmly and cogently reasoned -effort to put art on a new basis is a literary event of the -first importance.'</p> - -<p>We have, however, as yet only reached the year 1862, -and must not anticipate.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> - -<p>At first the peasants were rather afraid of the school, -but before long they gained confidence and the report -became current among them that: 'At Yásno-Polyána -school they learn everything, including all the sciences, -and there are such clever masters that it is dreadful; it is -said that they even imitate thunder and lightning. Anyway, -the lads understand well, and have begun to read and -write.' Another very general opinion was that: 'They -teach the boys everything (like gentlemen's sons) much of -it is no use, but still, as they quickly learn to read, it is -worth sending the children there.'</p> - -<p>Naturally Tolstoy, himself in those days an ardent -gymnast, had parallel and horizontal bars put up, and -gave the children physical training. To the effects of -this on the stomach, the village mothers did not fail to -attribute any digestive troubles that befell their children -from time to time; especially when the long Lenten fast -was succeeded by a return to more appetising food, or -when, after such luxuries had long been lacking, fresh -vegetables again came into use in summer.</p> - -<p>In his account of the Yásno-Polyána school, Tolstoy -tells us there were about forty pupils enrolled, but more -than thirty were rarely present at a time; among them -were four or five girls, and sometimes three or four male -adults who came either for a month or for a whole winter. -Most of the boys were from seven to ten years old. -(Tolstoy says that children learn to read most rapidly, -easily and well, between the ages of six and eight.)</p> - -<p>There were four teachers, and generally from five to -seven lessons a day. The teachers kept diaries of their -work, and discussed matters together on Sundays, when -they drew up plans for the coming week. These plans -were, however, not strictly adhered to, but were constantly -modified to meet the demands of the pupils.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's sister told me of another Sunday occupation at -Yásnaya Polyána in those days. Tolstoy used to invite all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -the boys from the neighbouring schools within reach, and -used to play games with them; the favourite game being -<i>Barre</i>, which I assume to be a form of 'Storm the Castle.'</p> - -<p>Tolstoy came to the conclusion that teachers involuntarily -strive to find a method of teaching convenient for themselves, -and that the more convenient a method is for the -teacher, the less convenient it is for the pupil; and only -<i>that</i> method is good which satisfies the pupils.</p> - -<p>His theory of freedom as the basis of success in instruction, -was put to a rude test by the fact that for a considerable -time his pupils made little or no headway in learning -to read. He says:</p> - -<p class="i2">The simple thought that the time had not yet come for good -reading and that there was at present no need of it, but that -the pupils would themselves find the best method when the -need arose, only recently entered my head.</p> - -<p>After telling how the boys first met the difficulty of -mastering the mechanical process of reading, Tolstoy goes -on to tell how in the upper class progress was suddenly -made owing to what seemed an accident.</p> - -<p class="i2">In the class of advanced reading some one book is used, each -boy reading in turn, and then all telling its contents together. -They had been joined that autumn by an extremely talented -lad, T., who had studied for two years with a sacristan, and was -therefore ahead of them all in reading. He reads as we do, -and so the pupils only understand anything of the advanced -reading (and then not very much of it) when he reads; and yet -each of them wishes to read. But as soon as a bad reader -begins, the others express dissatisfaction, especially when the -story is interesting. They laugh, and get cross, and the bad -reader feels ashamed, and endless disputes arise. Last month -one of the boys announced that at any cost he would manage, -within a week, to read as well as T.; others made the same -announcement, and suddenly mechanical reading became their -favourite occupation. For an hour or an hour-and-a-half at a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -time, they would sit without tearing themselves away from the -books, which they did not understand; and they began taking -books home with them; and really, within three weeks, they -made such progress as could not have been expected.</p> - -<p class="i2">In their case the reverse had happened of what usually -occurs with those who learn the rudiments. Generally a man -learns to read, and finds nothing he cares to read or understand. -In this case the pupils were convinced that there is something -worth reading and understanding, but felt that they lacked -the capacity; and so they set to work to become proficient -readers.</p> - -<p>A difficulty of enormous importance was the absence of -books really suitable for simple folk to read.</p> - -<p class="i2">The insoluble problem was that for the education of the -people an ability and a desire to read good books is essential. -Good books are, however, written in a literary language the -people don't understand. In order to learn to understand it, -one would have to read a great deal; and people won't read -willingly unless they understand what they read.</p> - -<p>Connected with this difficulty of finding books suited to -the understanding of peasants and of peasant children, was -the parallel difficulty of finding literary subjects that interested -them. This was first met by reading the Old -Testament stories to them:</p> - -<p class="i2">A knowledge of Sacred History was demanded both by the -pupils themselves and by their parents. Of all the oral subjects -I tried during three years, nothing so suited the understanding -and mental condition of the boys as the Old Testament. -The same was the case in all the schools that came under my -observation. I tried the New Testament, I tried Russian History -and Geography, I tried explanations of natural phenomena (so -much advocated to-day), but it was all listened to unwillingly -and quickly forgotten. But the Old Testament was remembered -and narrated eagerly both in class and at home, and so -well remembered that after two months the children wrote -Scripture tales from memory with very slight omissions.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -It seems to me that the book of the childhood of the race -will always be the best book for the childhood of each man. -It seems to me impossible to replace that book. To alter or -to abbreviate the Bible, as is done in Sonntag's and other -school primers, appears to me bad. All—every word—in it is -right, both as revelation and as art. Read about the creation -of the world in the Bible, and then read it in an abbreviated -Sacred History, and the alteration of the Bible into the Sacred -History will appear to you quite unintelligible. The latter -can only be learnt by heart; while the Bible presents the -child with a vivid and majestic picture he will never forget. -The omissions made in the Sacred History are quite unintelligible, -and only impair the character and beauty of the -Scriptures. Why, for instance, is the statement omitted in all -the Sacred Histories, that when there was nothing, the Spirit of -God moved upon the face of the waters, and that after having -created, God looked at His creation and saw that it was good, -and that then it was the morning and evening of such and -such a day? Why do they omit that God breathed into -Adam's nostrils the breath of life, and that having taken one of -his ribs He with the flesh closed up the place thereof, and -so forth? One must read the Bible to unperverted children, -to understand how necessary and true it all is. Perhaps one -ought not to give the Bible to perverted young ladies; but -when reading it to peasant children I did not alter or omit a -single word. None of them giggled behind another's back; -but all listened eagerly and with natural reverence. The story -of Lot and his daughters, and the story of Judah's son, evoked -horror but not laughter....</p> - -<p class="i2">How intelligible and clear it all is, especially for a child, and -yet how stern and serious! I cannot imagine what instruction -would be possible, without that book. Yet when one has -learnt these stories only in childhood, and has afterwards partly -forgotten them, one thinks: What good do they do us? Would -it not be all the same if one did not know them at all? So it -seems till, on beginning to teach, you test on other children -the elements that helped to develop you. It seems as if one -could teach children to write and read and calculate, and -could give them an idea of history, geography, and natural -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -phenomena, without the Bible, and before the Bible; yet -nowhere is this done: everywhere the child first of all gets -to know the Bible, its stories, or extracts from it. The first -relations of the learner to the teacher are founded on that -book. Such a general fact is not an accident. My very free -relations with my pupils at the commencement of the Yásno-Polyána -school helped me to find the explanation of this -phenomenon.</p> - -<p class="i2">A child or a man on entering school (I make no distinction -between a ten-, thirty-, or seventy-year-old man) brings with -him the special view of things he has deduced from life and to -which he is attached. In order that a man of any age should -begin to learn, it is necessary that he should love learning. -That he should love learning, he must recognise the falseness -and insufficiency of his own view of things, and must scent afar -off that new view of life which learning is to reveal to him. -No man or boy would have the strength to learn, if the result -of learning presented itself to him merely as a capacity to -write, to read, and to reckon. No master could teach if he did -not command an outlook on life higher than his pupils possess. -That a pupil may surrender himself whole-heartedly to his -teacher, one corner must be lifted of the veil which hides from -him all the delight of that world of thought, knowledge, and -poetry to which learning will admit him. Only by being -constantly under the spell of that bright light shining ahead -of him, will the pupil be able to use his powers in the way we -require of him.</p> - -<p class="i2">What means have we of lifting this corner of the veil?... -As I have said, I thought as many think, that being myself in -the world to which I had to introduce my pupils, it would be -easy for me to do this; and I taught the rudiments, explained -natural phenomena, and told them, as the primers do, that the -fruits of learning are sweet; but the scholars did not believe -me, and kept aloof. Then I tried reading the Bible to -them, and quite took possession of them. The corner of the -veil was lifted, and they yielded themselves to me completely. -They fell in love with the book, and with learning, and with -me. It only remained for me to guide them on....</p> - -<p class="i2">To reveal to the pupil a new world, and to make him, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>out -possessing knowledge, love knowledge, there is no book but -the Bible. I speak even for those who do not regard the Bible -as a revelation. There are no other works—at least I know -none—which in so compressed and poetic a form contain all -those sides of human thought which the Bible unites in itself. -All the questions raised by natural phenomena are there dealt -with. Of all the primitive relations of men with one another: -the family, the State, and religion, we first become conscious -through that book. The generalisations of thought and wisdom, -with the charm given by their childlike simplicity of form, -seize the pupil's mind for the first time. Not only does the -lyricism of David's psalms act on the minds of the elder pupils; -but more than that, from this book every one becomes conscious -for the first time of the whole beauty of the epos in its -incomparable simplicity and strength. Who has not wept over -the story of Joseph and his meeting with his brethren? Who -has not, with bated breath, told the story of the bound and -shorn Samson, revenging himself on his enemies and perishing -under the ruins of the palace he destroys, or received a hundred -other impressions on which we were reared as on our -mothers' milk?</p> - -<p class="i2">Let those who deny the educative value of the Bible and say -it is out of date, invent a book and stories explaining the -phenomena of Nature, either from general history or from the -imagination, which will be accepted as the Bible stories are; -and then we will admit that the Bible is obsolete....</p> - -<p class="i2">Drawn though it may be from a one-sided experience, I -repeat my conviction. The development of a child or a man -in our society without the Bible, is as inconceivable as that of -an ancient Greek would have been without Homer. The Bible -is the only book to begin with, for a child's reading. The -Bible, both in its form and in its contents, should serve as -a model for all children's primers and all reading books. A -translation of the Bible into the language of the common folk, -would be the best book for the people.</p> - -<p>When pupils came from other schools where they had -had to learn Scripture by heart, or had been inoculated -with the abbreviated school-primer versions, Tolstoy found -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -that the Bible had nothing like as strong an effect as -it had on boys who came fresh to it.</p> - -<p class="i2">Such pupils do not experience what is felt by fresh pupils, -who listen to the Bible with beating heart, seizing every word, -thinking that now, now at last, all the wisdom of the world is -about to be revealed to them.</p> - -<p>In reading the above passages, it should be borne in -mind that in Russian usage 'The Bible' means the Old -Testament only.</p> - -<p>Besides the Bible, the only books the people understand -and like, says Tolstoy, are those written not for the people -but by the people; such as folk-tales and collections of -songs, legends, proverbs, verses, and riddles. There was -much in his experience which fits in with what Mr. Cecil -Sharp and Miss Neal of the Espérance Club, have lately -been demonstrating by their revivals of English Folk Songs -and Dances: namely, that there is an excellent literature -and art which children and common folk appreciate and -assimilate as eagerly and excellently as any one, and which -it is the height of folly for cultured people to despise; -and his keen perception of the gap that separates the art -and literature accessible to the people from the art that -by its artificiality is beyond their reach, led him subsequently -to undertake, first a series of school primers, and -then the re-telling of a number of folk-tales and legends, -which have reached more readers, and perhaps benefited -the world more, than anything else he has written.</p> - -<p>With penmanship it happened at Yásno-Polyána school, -as with reading:</p> - -<p class="i2">The pupils wrote very badly, and a new master introduced -writing from copies (another exercise very sedate and easy for -the master). The pupils became dull, and we were obliged to -abandon calligraphy, and did not know how to devise any way -of improving their handwriting. The eldest class discovered -the way for itself. Having finished writing the Bible stories, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -the elder pupils began to ask for their exercise-books to take -home [probably to read to their parents]. These were dirty, -crumpled, and badly written. The precise mathematician P. -asked for some paper, and set to work to rewrite his stories. -This idea pleased the others. 'Give me, too, some paper!'— -'Give me an exercise-book!' and a fashion for calligraphy set -in, which still prevails in the upper class. They took an -exercise-book, put before them a written alphabet copy from -which they imitated each letter, boasting to one another of -their performance, and in two weeks' time they had made -great progress.</p> - -<p>Grammar turned out to be an unsatisfactory subject, -and to have hardly any connection with correct writing -or speaking.</p> - -<p class="i2">In our youngest—the third—class, they write what they -like. Besides that, the youngest write out in the evening, -one at a time, sentences they have composed all together. -One writes, and the others whisper among themselves, noting -his mistakes, and only waiting till he has finished, in order to -denounce his misplaced e or his wrongly detached prefix, or sometimes -to perpetrate a blunder of their own. To write correctly -and to correct mistakes made by others, gives them great -pleasure. The elder boys seize every letter they can get hold -of, exercising themselves in the correction of mistakes, and -trying with all their might to write correctly; but they cannot -bear grammar or the analysis of sentences, and in spite of a -bias we had for analysis, they only tolerate it to a very limited -extent, falling asleep or evading the classes.</p> - -<p>History on the whole went badly, except such bits of -Russian history as, when told poetically, aroused patriotic -feelings. On one memorable occasion the whole class went -wild with excitement and eager interest. That was when -Tolstoy, with a poet's licence, told of the defeat of -Napoleon's invasion of Russia in 1812.</p> - -<p>Except in this legendary way, the teaching of history to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> -children is, in Tolstoy's opinion, useless. The historic -sense develops later than the artistic sense:</p> - -<p class="i2">In my experience and practice the first germ of interest in -history arises out of contemporary events, sometimes as a result -of participation in them, through political interest, political -opinions, debates, and the reading of newspapers. Consequently -the idea of beginning the teaching of history from -present times should suggest itself to every intelligent teacher.</p> - -<p>Of geography as a subject for the education of children, -Tolstoy has an even lower opinion:</p> - -<p class="i2">In Von Vizin's comedy <i>The Minor</i>, when Mitrofánoushka was -being persuaded to learn geography, his mother said: 'Why -teach him all the countries? The coachman will drive him -where he may have to go to.' Nothing more to the point has -ever been said against geography, and all the learned men in -the world put together cannot rebut such an irrefragable -argument. I am speaking quite seriously. What need was -there for me to know where the river and town of Barcelona -are situated, when for thirty-three years I have not once had -occasion to use the knowledge? Not even the most picturesque -description of Barcelona and its inhabitants could, I imagine, -conduce to the development of my mental faculties.</p> - -<p>In fact, the sweeping conclusion at which Tolstoy arrives -is that:</p> - -<p class="i2">I not only see no use, but I see great harm, in teaching -history or geography before the University is reached.</p> - -<p>And he leaves it an open question whether even the -University should concern itself with such subjects.</p> - -<p>Drawing was a favourite lesson with the boys; but I -must confine myself to a single extract on that subject:</p> - -<p class="i2">We drew figures from the blackboard in the following way: -I first drew a horizontal or a vertical line, dividing it into parts -by dots, and the pupils copied this line. Then I drew another -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -or several perpendicular or sloping lines, standing in a certain -relation to the first, and similarly divided up. Then we joined -the dots of these different lines by others (straight or curved), -and formed some symmetrical figure which, as it was gradually -evolved, was copied by the boys. It seemed to me that this -was a good plan: first, because the boy clearly saw the whole -process of the formation of the figure, and secondly, because -his perception of the co-relation of lines was developed by this -drawing from the board, much better than by copying drawings -or designs....</p> - -<p class="i2">It is nearly always useless to hang up a large complete -picture or figure, because a beginner is quite at a loss before -it, as he would be before an object from nature. But the -growth of the figure before his eyes has an important meaning. -In this case the pupil sees the backbone and skeleton of the -drawing on which the body is subsequently formed. The -pupils were always called on to criticise the lines and their -relation, as I drew them. I often purposely drew them wrong, -to find out in how far their judgment of the co-relation and -incorrectness of the lines had been developed. Then again, -when I was drawing my figure I asked the boys where they -thought the next line should be added; and I even made one -or other of them invent the shape of the figure himself.</p> - -<p class="i2">In this way I not only aroused a more lively interest, but -got the boys to participate freely in the formation and development -of the figures; and this prevented the question. Why? -which boys so naturally put when they are set to draw from -copies.</p> - -<p class="i2">The ease or difficulty with which it was understood, and the -more or less interest evoked, chiefly influenced the choice of -the method of instruction; and I often quite abandoned what -I had prepared for the lesson, merely because it was dull or -foreign to the boys.</p> - -<p>In the singing class, Tolstoy very soon found that notes -written on the staff were not easily grasped by the pupils, -and after using the staff for some ten lessons, he once -showed the boys the use of numbers instead, and from that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -day forward they always asked him to use numbers, and -they themselves always used numbers in writing music. -This method is much more convenient, Tolstoy considers, -for explaining both the intervals and the changes of key. -The pupils who were not musical soon dropped out of the -class, and the lessons with those who were, sometimes went -on for three or four hours at a stretch. He tried to teach -them musical time in the usual manner, but succeeded so -badly that he had to take that and melody separately. -First he took the sounds without reference to time, and then -beat the time without considering the sounds, and finally -joined the two processes together. After several lessons -he found that the method he had drifted into, combined the -chief features (though not some of the minor peculiarities) -of Chevet's method, which, as already mentioned, he had -seen in successful operation in Paris. After a very few -lessons, two of the boys used to write down the melodies of -the songs they knew, and were almost able to read music -at sight.</p> - -<p>From the limited experience he had in teaching music, -Tolstoy—to quote his own words almost textually—became -convinced that: (1) To write sounds by means of figures -is the most profitable method; (2) To teach time separately -from sound is the most profitable method; (3) For the -teaching of music to be willingly and fruitfully received, -one must from the start teach the <i>art</i> and not aim merely -at dexterity in singing or playing. Spoilt young ladies -may be taught to play Burgmüller's exercises; but it is -better not to teach the children of the people at all, than -to teach them mechanically; (4) Nothing so harms musical -instruction as what looks like a knowledge of music: -namely the performance of choirs, and performances at -examinations, speech-days, or in church; and (5) In teaching -music to the people, the thing to be aimed at is to impart -our knowledge of the general laws of music, but not the -false taste we have developed among us.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> - -<p>In one of the most remarkable of his articles, Tolstoy -tells how he discovered that Fédka and Syómka possessed -literary ability of the highest order. Composition lessons -had not gone well, until one day Tolstoy proposed that the -children should write a story of peasant life to illustrate a -popular proverb. Most of them felt this to be beyond -their powers, and went on with their other occupations. -One of them, however, bade Tolstoy write it himself in -competition with them, and he set to work to do so, till -Fédka, climbing on the back of his chair, interrupted him -by reading over his shoulder. Tolstoy then began reading -out what he had composed, and explaining how he thought -of continuing the story. Several of the boys became interested, -not approving of Tolstoy's work, but criticising -and amending it, offering suggestions and supplying -details. Syómka and Fédka particularly distinguished -themselves, and showed extraordinary imagination, and -such judgment, sense of proportion, restraint, and power -of clothing their thoughts in words, that Tolstoy was -carried away by the interest of the work and wrote as -hard as he could to their dictation, having constantly to -ask them to wait and not forget the details they had -suggested. Fédka—of whom Tolstoy says that 'The chief -quality in every art, the sense of proportion, was in him -extraordinarily developed: he writhed at every superfluous -detail suggested by any of the other boys,'—gradually took -control of the work, and ruled so despotically and with -such evident right, that the others dropped off and went -home, except Syómka, who along his own more matter-of-fact -line continued to co-operate.</p> - -<p class="i2">We worked from seven in the evening till eleven. They -felt neither hunger nor weariness and were even angry with -me when I stopped writing; and they set to work to do it -themselves turn and turn about, but did not get on well and -soon gave it up....</p> - -<p class="i2">I left the lesson because I was too excited.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> -'What is the matter with you? Why are you so pale: are -you ill?' asked my colleague. Indeed, only two or three times -in my life have I experienced such strong emotion as during -that evening....</p> - -<p>Next day Tolstoy could hardly believe the experience of -the night before. It seemed incredible that a peasant boy, -hardly able to read, should suddenly display such marvellous -command of artistic creative power.</p> - -<p class="i2">It seemed to me strange and offensive that I, the author -of <i>Childhood</i>, who had achieved a certain success and was -recognised by the educated Russian public as possessing artistic -talent, should in artistic matters not merely be unable to -instruct or help eleven-year-old Syómka and Fédka, but should -hardly be able, except at a happy moment of excitement, to -keep up with them and understand them.</p> - -<p class="i2">Next day we set to work to continue the story. When I -asked Fédka if he had thought of a continuation, he only -waved his hand and remarked: 'I know, I know!... Who -will do the writing?'... We resumed the work, and again -the boys showed the same enthusiasm, and the same sense of -artistic truth and proportion.</p> - -<p class="i2">Half-way through the lesson I had to leave them. They -wrote two pages without me, as just in feeling and as true to -life as the preceding ones. These two pages were rather -poorer in detail, some of the details were not quite happily -placed, and there were also a couple of repetitions. All this -had evidently occurred because the actual writing was a -difficulty for them. On the third day we had similar success.... -There could no longer be any doubt or thought of its -being a mere accident. We had obviously succeeded in finding -a more natural and inspiring method than any we had -previously tried.</p> - -<p>This unfinished story was accidentally destroyed. Tolstoy -was greatly annoyed, and Fédka and Syómka, though they -did not understand his vexation, offered to stay the night -at his house and reproduce it. After eight o'clock, when -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -school was over, they came, and (to Tolstoy's great pleasure) -locked themselves into his study, where at first they were -heard laughing but then became very quiet. On listening -at the door Tolstoy heard their subdued voices discussing -the story, and heard also the scratching of a pen. At -midnight he knocked and was admitted. Syómka was -standing at the large table, writing busily; his lines -running crookedly across the paper and his pen constantly -seeking the inkstand. Fédka told Tolstoy to 'wait a bit,' -and insisted on Syómka's adding something more, to his -dictation. At last Tolstoy took the exercise-book; and -the lads, after enjoying a merry supper of potatoes and -<i>kvás</i>, divested themselves of their sheepskin coats and lay -down to sleep under the writing table; their 'charming, -healthy, childish, peasant laughter' still ringing through -the room.</p> - -<p>The story just mentioned, and other stories written by -the children, were published in the magazine; and Tolstoy -declares them to be, in their way, superior to anything else -in Russian literature. It was largely on the model of -these peasant children's stories that, years later, he wrote -his own famous stories for the people.</p> - -<p>The rules for encouraging composition which he deduces -from his experience are these:</p> - -<p class="i2">(1) To offer as large and varied a choice of themes as possible; -not inventing them specially for the children, but -offering such as most interest the teacher and seem to him -most important.</p> - -<p class="i2">(2) To give children stories written by children to read, -and to offer only children's compositions as models; because -these are juster, finer and more moral than those written by -adults.</p> - -<p class="i2">(3) (Specially important.) Never, when looking through the -compositions, make any remarks to the children about the -neatness of the exercise-books, the handwriting, or the spelling; -nor, above all, about the construction of the sentences, -or about logic.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -(4) Since the difficulty of composition lies not in size nor in -subject, nor in correctness of language, but in the mechanism -of the work, which consists: (<i>a</i>) in choosing one out of the large -number of thoughts and images that offer themselves; (<i>b</i>) in -choosing words wherewith to clothe it; (<i>c</i>) in remembering it -and finding a fitting place for it; (<i>d</i>) in remembering what has -already been written, so as not to repeat anything or omit anything, -and in finding a way of joining up what has preceded -to what succeeds; (<i>e</i>) and finally in so managing that while -thinking and writing at one and the same time, the one operation -shall not hamper the other,—I, having these things in -view, proceeded as follows.</p> - -<p class="i2">At first I took upon myself some of these sides of the work, -transferring them gradually to the pupils. At first, out of the -thoughts and images suggested, I chose for them those which -seemed to me best, and I kept these in mind and indicated -suitable places to insert them, and I looked over what had -been written to avoid repetitions, and I did the writing myself, -letting them merely clothe the thoughts and images in -words. Afterwards I let them select, and then let them look -over what had been written, and finally they took on themselves -the actual writing....</p> - -<p>One of the profoundest convictions impressed on Tolstoy's -mind by his educational experiments was that the peasants -and their children have a large share of artistic capacity, -and that art is immensely important because of its humanising -effect on them, and because it arouses and trains -their faculties. Unfortunately the works: literary, poetic, -dramatic, pictorial and plastic, now produced, are being -produced expressly for people possessed of leisure, wealth, -and a special, artificial training, and are therefore useless -to the people. This deflection of art from the service of -the masses of whom there are millions, to the delectation -of the classes of whom there are but thousands, appears to -him to be a very great evil.</p> - -<p>He says with reference to two realms of art which he had -loved passionately, and with which he was specially familiar:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -music and poetry, that he noticed that the demands of the -masses were more legitimate than the demands of the classes.</p> - -<p class="i2">Terrible to say, I came to the conviction that all that we -have done in those two departments has been done along -a false and exceptional path, which lacks importance, has no -future, and is insignificant in comparison with the demands -upon, and even with the samples of, those same arts which we -find put forward by the people. I became convinced that such -lyrical compositions as, for example, Poúshkin's 'I remember -the marvellous moment,' and such musical productions as Beethoven's -Last Symphony, are not so absolutely and universally -good as the song of 'Willy the Steward' or the melody of 'Floating -down the river, Mother Vólga'; and that Poúshkin and -Beethoven please us, not because they are absolutely beautiful, -but because we are as spoiled as they, and because they -flatter our abnormal irritability and weakness. How common -it is to hear the empty and stale paradox, that to understand -the beautiful, a preparation is necessary! Who said so? Why? -What proves it? It is only a shift, a loophole, to escape from -the hopeless position to which the false direction of our art, -produced for one class alone, has led us. Why are the beauty of -the sun and of the human face, and the beauty of the sounds of -a folk-song, and of deeds of love and self-sacrifice, accessible to -every one, and why do <i>they</i> demand no preparation?</p> - -<p class="i2">For years I vainly strove to make my pupils feel the poetic -beauties of Poúshkin and of our whole literature, and a similar -attempt is being made by innumerable teachers not in Russia -alone; and if these teachers notice the results of their efforts, -and will be frank about the matter, they will admit that the chief -result of this attempt to develop poetic feeling, is to kill it; and -that it is just those pupils whose natures are most poetic who -show most aversion to such commentaries....</p> - -<p class="i2">I will try to sum up all that I have said above. In reply to -the question: Do people need the <i>beaux arts</i>? pedagogues -usually grow timid and confused (only Plato decided the matter -boldly in the negative). They say: 'Art is needed, but with -certain limitations; and to make it possible for all to become -artists would be bad for the social structure. Certain arts and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -certain degrees of art can only exist in a certain class of society. -The arts must have their special servants, entirely devoted to -them,' They say: 'It should be possible for those who are -greatly gifted to escape from among the people and devote -themselves completely to the service of art.' That is the -greatest concession pedagogy makes to the right of each -individual to become what he likes.</p> - -<p class="i2">But I consider that to be all wrong. I think that a need to -enjoy art and to serve art, is inherent in every human being, -to whatever race or class he may belong; and that this need -has its right and should be satisfied. Taking that position -as an axiom, I say that if the enjoyment and production of -art by every one, presents inconveniences and inconsistencies, -the reason lies in the character and direction art has taken: -about which we must be on our guard, lest we foist anything -false on the rising generation, and lest we prevent it from -producing something new, both as to form and as to matter.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy goes so far as to doubt whether, so long as no -suitable literature is produced for the people, it is even -worth their while to learn to read.</p> - -<p class="i2">Looking closer at the results of the rudiments in the form in -which they are supplied to the masses, I think most people will -decide that the rudiments do more harm than good, taking into -account the prolonged compulsion, the disproportionate development -of memory, the false conception of the completeness of -science, the aversion to further education, the false vanity, and -the habit of meaningless reading acquired in these schools....</p> - -<p class="i2">'Let us print good books for the people!'... How simple -and easy that seems—like all great thoughts! There is only -one obstacle, namely that there exist no good books for the -people, either here or in Europe. To print such books, they -must first be produced; and none of our philanthropists think -of undertaking <i>that</i> work!</p> - -<p>Before closing this rapid summary of Tolstoy's educational -writings, let me quote a few more sentences which -sum up his essential position:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> -In my articles on Education I have given my theoretic reasons -for considering that only freedom on the part of the pupils to -select what they will learn and how they will learn it, can -furnish a sound basis for any instruction. In practice I constantly -applied those rules to the schools under my guidance -...and the results were always very good both for the teachers -and the pupils, as well as for the evolution of new methods; -and this I assert boldly, for hundreds of visitors came to the -Yásno-Polyána school and know how it worked.</p> - -<p class="i2">For the masters, the result of such relations with the pupils -was that they did not consider any methods they happened to -know, to be the best, but they tried to discover new methods -and made acquaintance with other teachers whose ways they -could learn. They tested fresh methods, and above all, they -themselves were always learning. A master never allowed -himself, in cases of failure, to think that it was the pupils' fault: -their laziness, naughtiness, stupidity, deafness or stuttering; -but he was convinced that the fault was his own, and for every -defect on the side of the pupil or pupils, he tried to discover a -remedy.</p> - -<p class="i2">For the pupils the results were that they learnt eagerly, -always begged to have additional lessons on winter evenings, -and were quite free in class—which, in my conviction and -experience, is the chief condition of successful teaching. Between -the teachers and the pupils friendly and natural relations -always arose, without which it is not possible for a teacher to -know his pupils fully....</p> - -<p class="i2">With reference to the methods of instruction, the results -were that no method was adopted or rejected because it pleased -or did not please the teacher, but only because the pupil, without -compulsion, accepted or did not accept it. But besides the -good results which unfailingly followed the adoption of my -method both by myself and by all—more than twenty—other -teachers (I say 'unfailingly' because we never had a single -pupil who did not master the rudiments)—besides these results, -the adoption of the principles of which I have spoken produced -this effect, that during fifteen years all the different modifications -to which my method has been subjected, have not only -not removed it from the demands of the people, but have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -brought it closer and closer to them.... In my school... -every teacher, while bringing his pupils forward, himself feels -the need of learning; and this was constantly the case with all -the teachers I had.</p> - -<p class="i2">Moreover, the very methods of instruction themselves—since -they are not fixed once for all but aim at finding the easiest -and simplest paths—change and improve according to what -the teacher learns from the pupils' relation to his teaching.</p> - -<p>The children had not to pay anything for attending the -school, and the relations between them and Tolstoy are -illustrated by the account a visitor has given of seeing -Tolstoy rush through a gate followed by a crowd of merry -youngsters who were snow-balling him. Tolstoy was -intent on making his escape, but on seeing the visitor he -changed his mind, acknowledged his defeat, and surrendered -to his triumphant pursuers.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy does not stand before the world to-day primarily -as a school-master, and even were I competent to deal -with the subject, it would exceed the limits of this -biography to attempt a detailed criticism of his precepts -and practice; but he evidently possessed, as he claims in -one of his articles, 'a certain pedagogic tact'; and he is -clearly right in his belief that the rigid discipline of schools, -the lack of freedom and initiative, the continual demand -for silence and obedience, and the refusal to allow pupils to -criticise the lessons they receive, have a constantly stupefying -effect.</p> - -<p>All that he allowed at Yásnaya Polyána was denied to -us when I was at Christ's Hospital, in 1868-1874; and -I look back on those six years of mental stultification as -the most wretched of my life. At the preparatory school -in Hertford, so stupefied were the little boys by terror -and discipline, that when the head-master (traditionally -an incarnation of all the virtues) became grossly harsh -and unfair, they could not see what was happening until -his insanity was so pronounced that the doctors had to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -take him in hand: an event that occurred soon after I had -left for the upper school in London.</p> - -<p>There, one of the masters (who evidently did not believe -that 'history is experience teaching by example') in intervals -between whacking the boys on their backs or hands -with a long cane, used, I remember, emphatically to -announce that 'dates and names are the most important parts -of history.' A Latin master, a barrister, who was usually -busy at some sort of law work when he should have been -teaching us, used to set us to learn by rote rules and illustrations -which we did not in the least understand. On one -occasion the example given in the grammar was:</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>Opes irritamenta malorum effodiuntur.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">Riches the incentives of crime are dug out of the earth.</p> - -<p>The top boy had learnt the rule and illustration by heart -(which I never could do); but, departing from his usual -routine, the master unexpectedly asked which Latin word -corresponded to which English. Each of the first twenty-four -boys in the class in turn got caned and sent to the -bottom; so that by the time I, who had been last, had -come to the top, and it was my turn to reply, only one -possible combination remained untried, and I was able -to announce that <i>effodiuntur</i> meant 'are dug out of the -earth.' Unluckily there was another rule that day, and -over this I, in turn, came to grief, and was caned and sent -to the bottom.</p> - -<p>In the drawing class I remember doing the outline of -a cube to the master's satisfaction, and being promoted -to the shading class. I had no idea how to shade, and -the attempt I made was certainly a very bad one; but instead -of receiving advice or assistance, my ears were boxed -so violently that I should be tempted to attribute to that -assault the slight deafness from which I have since suffered, -were it not that such treatment was so common at Christ's -Hospital, that none of the victims whose hearing may have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -been impaired, could be sure to which of the masters they -owed that part of their preparation for the battle of life.</p> - -<p>I feel sure the stultifying effects of such cruel and senseless -treatment would have been even more serious, had not -the school authorities, by some strange oversight, allowed -<i>one</i> really readable and interesting periodical to find a place -among the Sunday magazines and other sterilised literature -obtainable in the School Library. This one publication, -which I read ardently during my school years, was <i>Chambers's -Journal</i>. It contained novels by James Payn, and other -matter suited to my powers of mental digestion. From -smuggled copies of Captain Marryat's novels I also got -a good deal of culture: far more, I am sure, than from any -of the lessons we endured.</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VIII</h3> - -<p>Tolstoy's Educational articles, and -N. V. Ouspensky, <i>Iz Proshlago</i>.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap9">CHAPTER IX<br /> -MARRIAGE</h2> - -<p class="i2">The Behrs visit Yásnaya. Proposal by thought-reading. -The Diary. Marriage. Ministers on magazine. The school -closed and the magazine stopped. Family happiness. -Health. Fet's visit. Sergius born. Children. <i>The Cossacks</i> -and <i>Polikoúshka</i>. Bees. Plays. <i>Confession.</i> Saving the -hay. <i>Decembrists.</i> Samára. Preparations for <i>War and -Peace</i>. Collected edition. Translations. Dislocates arm. -Tatiána born. Fears of famine. Sergius (brother) and -Tánya Behrs. Nikólsky. Visits Borodinó. Tolstoy at -home and with the children. Relations with servants. -Masquerade. Moscow. Drawing school. Sculpture. Ilyá -born. Pleads at court-martial. Dr. Zahárin. <i>Smoke.</i> -Fet's Literary Evening. <i>War and Peace.</i> Schopenhauer. -Pénza. Death of V. P. Bótkin. The Countess and the children's -education. English nurse. Tolstoy's habits. Visitors. -Fet. Tolstoy's ardour. Property. Untidiness. Respect for -sleep. Newspapers. Characteristics. Studies the drama.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">To</span> one who admires Tolstoy's educational work, it is -somewhat disconcerting to see how scornfully he spoke of it -sixteen years later in his <i>Confession</i>. But that is always -his way: the old is useless and worthless and bad; only the -new, the unachieved, the fresh ideal, is admirable. For it, -he decries all that the past has produced—including himself -and his former work. He makes his points broadly -and powerfully, but to understand, we must discriminate, -and allow for an artistic temperament tempting him to -exaggerate. Let him however speak for himself, that the -reader may judge:</p> - -<p class="i2">On returning from abroad I settled in the country, and happened -to occupy myself with peasant schools. This work was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> -particularly to my taste, because in it I had not to face the falsity -which had become obvious to me and stared me in the face when -I tried to teach people by literary means. Here, also, I acted -in the name of Progress, but I already regarded Progress itself -critically. I said to myself: 'In some of its developments -Progress has proceeded wrongly; and with primitive peasant -children one must deal in a spirit of perfect freedom, letting -them choose what path of Progress they please.' In reality I -was ever revolving round one and the same insoluble problem, -which was: How to teach without knowing what? In the -higher spheres of literary activity I had realised that one could -not teach without knowing what; for I saw that people all -taught differently, and by quarrelling among themselves succeeded -only in hiding their ignorance from one another. But -here, with peasant children, I thought to evade this difficulty -by letting them learn what they liked. It amuses me now, when -I remember how I shuffled in trying to fulfil my desire to teach, -while in the depth of my soul I knew very well that I could not -teach anything needful, for I did not know what was needful.</p> - -<p class="i2">After spending a year at school work, I went abroad a second -time, to discover how to teach others while myself knowing -nothing.</p> - -<p class="i2">And it seemed to me that I had learnt this abroad, and in -the year of the peasants' Emancipation I returned to Russia -armed with all this wisdom; and having become an Arbiter, I -began to teach both the uneducated peasants in schools, and -the educated classes through a magazine I published. Things -appeared to be going well, but I felt I was not quite sound -mentally, and that matters could not long continue in that way. -And I should perhaps then have come to the state of despair -at which I arrived fifteen years later, had there not been one -side of life still unexplored by me, and which promised me -happiness: that was marriage.</p> - -<p class="i2">For a year I busied myself with Arbitration work, the schools, -and the magazine; and I became so worn-out—as a result -especially of my mental confusion—and so hard was my struggle -as Arbiter, so obscure the results of my activity in the schools, -so repulsive my shuffling in the magazine (which always -amounted to one and the same thing: a desire to teach every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>body, -and to hide the fact that I did not know what to -teach) that I fell ill, mentally rather than physically, and threw -up everything, and went away to the Bashkírs in the steppes, -to breathe fresh air, drink <i>koumýs</i>, and live an animal life.</p> - - -<h3>1862</h3> - -<p>Tired of and dissatisfied with his work, and thinking -he detected in himself signs of the malady that had -carried off two of his brothers, he set off in May -1862 (accompanied by his servant Alexis and -two of his pupils) to undergo a koumýs (soured and -fermented mares' milk) cure in the Samára steppes east of -the Vólga.</p> - -<p>He went first to Moscow, and his friend Raévsky has told -how Tolstoy came up to him in the Club there, and mentioned -with great indignation and vexation that his brother -was playing cards and had lost Rs. 7000 in a few hours. -'How can men do such things?' said Tolstoy. Half-an-hour -later Raévsky saw Leo Tolstoy himself playing Chinese -billiards (a game something like bagatelle, played on a -board with wire impediments) and learnt that he had lost -Rs. 1000 to the stranger with whom he was playing! -This was, I believe, the last occasion on which Tolstoy played -any game for stakes he found it difficult to pay. The -occurrence led to the premature publication of his novel -<i>The Cossacks</i>, which he had had in hand for several years, -but to which he still intended to add a second part. Not -having Rs. 1000 (then about Ł150) available, he let -Katkóf, the well-known publicist, editor of the <i>Moscow -Gazette</i> and of the monthly <i>Russian Messenger</i>, have the -story for that sum paid in advance. This 'Tale of the -Year 1852,' as the sub-title runs, is based on Tolstoy's -Caucasian experiences. The circumstances which led to -its premature publication made the work repugnant to him, -and he never completed it.</p> - -<p>Among those to whom he mentioned the occurrence were -the Behrs, of whom Miss Sophie was already so interested -in him that she wept at the news. At their home he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -always a welcome and intimate guest, and as time went on -he saw more and more of that family.</p> - -<p>From Moscow he proceeded to Tvér by rail, and thence -by steamer down the Vólga to Samára.</p> - -<p>At Kazán he stopped to visit his relation V. I. Úshkof: -and from Samára he wrote to Aunt Tatiána:</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>27 May 1862.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">To-day I shall start to drive ninety miles from Samára to -Karalýk....</p> - -<p class="i2">I have had a beautiful journey; the country pleases me very -much; my health is better, <i>i.e.</i> I cough less. Alexis and the -boys are alive and well, as you may tell their relations. Please -write me about Sergéy, or let him do so. Greet all my dear -comrades [probably the masters in the schools] for me, and -request them to write me of what goes on, and of how they are -getting on....</p> - -<p>In another letter, dated 28th June 1862, he wrote:</p> - -<p class="i2">It is now a month since I had any news of you or from home; -please write me about everybody: first, our family; secondly, -the (University) students [who acted as masters in the schools] -etc. Alexis and I have grown fatter, he especially, but we still -cough a little, and again he especially. We are living in a -Tartar tent; the weather is beautiful. I have found my friend -Stolýpin—now Atamán in Ourálsk—and have driven over to -see him; and have brought back from there a secretary; but I -dictate and write little. Idleness overcomes one when drinking -koumýs. In two weeks' time I intend to leave here, and I -expect to be home by St. Elijah's day [20 July, old style]. I am -tormented in this out-of-the-way place by not knowing what is -going on, and also by the thought that I am horribly behind-hand -with the publication of the magazine. I kiss your -hand....</p> - -<p>Just when Tolstoy was leaving Karalýk a most unexpected -event was occurring at Yásnaya, where his sister -Mary was staying with Aunt Tatiána. Owing to the -denunciation of a police spy who, among other lies, pretended -to have discovered a secret door in Tolstoy's house,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -the police authorities decided to search his estate; and one -morning—to the immense astonishment of the neighbouring -peasants—police, watchmen, officials, and gendarmes, -under the command of a Colonel, appeared upon the -scene! In the school-house a photographic apparatus -was found: a thing sufficiently rare in a Russian -village in those days to evoke the suspicious inquiries -of the gendarme officer, to whom one of the student-teachers -chaffingly volunteered the information that it -was kept to photograph Herzen (the celebrated exile, -then living in London); but nowhere were any secret doors -found.</p> - -<p>The floors of the stables were broken up with crowbars -to see if anything was hidden there. The pond was dragged, -but nothing more incriminating than crayfish and carp was -found. All the cupboards, drawers, boxes and desks in -the house were opened and searched, and the ladies were -frightened almost to death. A police-officer from Toúla -would not even allow Tolstoy's sister to leave the library -till he had finished reading aloud in her presence and -in that of two gendarmes, Tolstoy's Diary and letters, -which contained the most intimate secrets of his life and -which he had kept private since he was sixteen years -old.</p> - -<p>Finding nothing incriminating at Yásnaya, the representatives -of law and order next betook themselves to the -other schools working in conjunction with Tolstoy, and -there also they turned tables and cupboards upside down, -seized exercise-books and primers, arrested the teachers, -and spread the wildest suspicions abroad among the peasants, -to whom school education was still a novelty held somewhat -in suspicion.</p> - -<p>On receiving news of this event Tolstoy at once wrote -to his aunt, the Countess A. A. Tolstoy, asking her to speak -to those who knew him well and had influence, and on -whose aid he could rely. Said he:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -I cannot and will not let this affair pass. All the activity in -which I found solace and happiness, has been spoilt. Aunty is so -ill from fright that she will probably not recover. The peasants -no longer regard me as an honest man—an opinion I had earned in -the course of years—but as a criminal, an incendiary, or a coiner, -whose cunning alone has enabled him to escape punishment.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Eh, man, you've been found out! Don't talk to us any -more about honesty and justice—you've hardly escaped handcuffs -yourself!'</p> - -<p class="i2">From the landed proprietors I need not say what a cry of -rapture went up. Please write to me as soon as possible, after -consulting Peróvsky [Count V. A. P.] and Alexéy Tolstoy -[Count A. T., the dramatist and poet] and any one else you -like, as to how I am to write to the Emperor and how best -to present my letter. It is too late to prevent the injury -the thing has done, or to extricate myself, and there is no -way out except by receiving satisfaction as public as the -insult has been; and this I have firmly resolved on. I shall -not join Herzen; he has his way, I have mine. Neither will -I hide.... But I will loudly announce that I am selling my -estate and mean to leave Russia, where one cannot know from -moment to moment what awaits one....</p> - -<p>At the end of an eight-page letter he mentions that the -Colonel of gendarmes, on leaving, threatened to renew his -search till he discovered 'if anything is hidden'; and -Tolstoy adds, 'I have loaded pistols in my room, and am -waiting to see how this matter will end.'</p> - -<p>He also remarked: 'I often say to myself, How exceedingly -fortunate it was that I was not at home at the time! -Had I been there, I should certainly now be awaiting my -trial for murder!'</p> - -<p>Soon after this, Alexander II spent some time at Petróvsky -Park, near Moscow. There Tolstoy presented a letter -claiming reparation, which an aide-de-camp undertook to -give to the Emperor; and some weeks later the Governor -of Toúla transmitted to Tolstoy the Emperor's expression -of regret for what had occurred.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -It is easy to imagine the effect such an outrage as this -police-search would have on a man of Tolstoy's acute self-esteem, -and how it would intensify his hatred of Government.</p> - -<p>After his return from Samára, he saw more of the Behrs -than ever. Fet, whom he introduced to them, thus records -his impressions of the family:</p> - -<p class="i2">I found the doctor to be an amiable old gentleman of polite -manners, and his wife a handsome, majestic brunette who -evidently ruled the house. I refrain from describing the three -young ladies, of whom the youngest had an admirable contralto -voice. They all, notwithstanding the watchful supervision of -their mother and their irreproachable modesty, possessed that -attractive quality which the French designate by the words -<i>du chien</i> [lively, full of go]. The service and the dinner were -admirable.</p> - -<p>Madame Behrs was on very friendly terms with Tolstoy's -sister, the Countess Mary; and before he went abroad -Tolstoy had frequently, at the house of the latter, played -with the children of both families. In 1862 he often visited -the Behrs at Pokróvskoe-Glébovo, where they lived in a -<i>dátcha</i> (country house) they occupied every summer. He -nearly always walked the eight miles from Moscow, and -often took long rambles with the family besides. The girls -had been educated at home, but Sophia Andréyevna, the -second daughter, had passed a University examination -entitling her to the diploma qualifying to teach both in -private and in State schools.</p> - -<p>We may judge of Tolstoy's state of mind at this time by -an entry in his Diary, dated 23rd August: 'I am afraid of -myself. What if this be only a <i>desire</i> for love and not real -love? I try to notice only her weak points, but yet I love.' -And again, 'I rose in good health, with a particularly clear -head, and wrote easily, though the matter was feeble. Then -I felt more sad than I have done for a long time. I have -no friends at all. I am alone. I had friends when I served -Mammon, but have none when I serve truth.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> -On 26th August he notes that Sónya (Miss Sophia Behrs) -gave him a story to read, written by herself, and her description -of the hero as a man of 'unusually unattractive -appearance, and changeable convictions' hit him hard; -but he was relieved to find that it was not meant for him.</p> - -<p>On his thirty-fourth birthday, 28th August 1862 (old style) -he jotted down in his Diary the words: 'Ugly mug! Do not -think of marriage; your calling is of another kind.'</p> - -<p>About this time the Behrs paid a two weeks' visit to -Madame Behrs' father's estate of Ívitsa, some thirty miles -from Yásnaya, and <i>en route</i> they stopped a couple of -days at Yásnaya to visit the Countess Mary. The day -after their arrival a picnic party was arranged with some -neighbours. It was haymaking time, and there was much -haystack climbing by the picknickers. The general impression -was that Tolstoy was in love with Lisa, the eldest -Miss Behrs: this opinion being fostered by the idea, then -common in Russia, that an elder daughter should be disposed -of before a younger daughter may be courted.</p> - -<p>A few days later Tolstoy followed the Behrs to Ívitsa; -and here the scene occurred which he has utilised in <i>Anna -Karénina</i> when describing Lévin's proposal to Kitty—a scene -in which something approaching thought-reading takes place.</p> - -<p>Sitting at a card-table with Miss Sophia Behrs, Tolstoy -wrote the initial letters of the sentence:</p> - -<p>'In your family a false opinion exists about me and your -sister Lisa; you and Tánitchka should destroy it.'</p> - -<p>Miss Sophia read the letters, understood what words they -stood for, and nodded her head.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy then wrote the initial letters of another sentence:</p> - -<p>'Your youth and need of happiness, to-day remind me -too strongly of my age and the impossibility of happiness.'</p> - -<p>The nature of the Russian language (with its inflections -instead of particles, and the absence of articles) somewhat -diminishes the miracle; but the test was a very severe one, -and again the girl guessed the words aright. The two -understood one another, and their fate was practically sealed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> -The Behrs returned to Pokróvskoe-Glébovo in September. -Tolstoy accompanied them on the carriage-journey back to -Moscow and visited them every day, bringing music for the -young ladies, playing the piano for them, and accompanying -the youngest—whom he nicknamed 'Madame Viardot' -after the famous singer.</p> - -<p>On the 17th of that month (the name's day of Sophia) -Tolstoy handed his future wife a letter containing a proposal -of marriage, which she gladly accepted. Her father, -displeased that the second daughter should be preferred to -the eldest, at first refused his assent. But Tolstoy was -strenuously insistent—I have even heard that he threatened -to shoot himself—and the doctor soon yielded to the united -persuasion of daughter and suitor.</p> - -<p>The bridegroom's sense of honour led him to hand his -future wife the Diary, in which, mingled with hopes, prayers, -self-castigations and self-denunciations, the sins and excesses -of his bachelorhood were recorded. To the girl, who had -looked upon him as a personification of the virtues, this -revelation came as a great shock; but after a sleepless night -passed in weeping bitterly over it, she returned the Diary -and forgave the past.</p> - -<p>To get married it was necessary first to confess and -receive the eucharist. Tolstoy's own experiences in this -matter are narrated in Chapter I of Part V of <i>Anna -Karénina</i>, where they are attributed to Lévin.</p> - -<p>The marriage took place within a week of the proposal, -namely on 23rd September 1862, in the Court church of the -Krémlin, the bridegroom being thirty-four and the bride -eighteen years of age. When the ceremony was over the -couple left Moscow in a <i>dormeuse</i> (sleeping carriage), and -drove to Yásnaya Polyána, where Tolstoy's brother Sergéy -and Aunt Tatiána were awaiting them.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="p290"><img src="images/p290.jpg" width="350" -height="470" alt="" title="" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -Tolstoy in 1862, the year of his marriage. -</div></div> - -<p>Fet records the letter in which Tolstoy informed him of -his marriage:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -<span class="smcap">Fétoushka</span> [an endearing diminutive of Fet] <span class="smcap">Uncle</span>, or simply -<span class="smcap">Dear Friend Afanásy Afanásyevitch</span>!—I have been married -two weeks and am happy, and am a new, quite a new man. I -want to visit you, but cannot manage it. When shall I see you? -Having come to myself, I feel that I value you very, very -much. We have so many unforgettable things in common: -Nikólenka, and much besides. Do drive over and make my -acquaintance. I kiss Márya Petróvna's hand. Farewell, dear -friend. I embrace you with all my heart.</p> - -<p>In another letter belonging to the same period he writes:</p> - -<p class="i2">I am writing from the country, and while I write, from upstairs -where she is talking to my brother, I hear the voice of -my wife, whom I love more than the whole world. I have -lived to the age of thirty-four without knowing that it was -possible to love, and to be so happy. When I am more tranquil -I will write you a long letter. I should not say 'more tranquil,' -for I am now more tranquil and clear than I have ever been, -but I should say, 'when I am accustomed to it.' At present I -have a constant feeling of having stolen an undeserved, illicit, -and not-for-me-intended happiness. There ... she is coming! -I hear her, and it is so good!... And why do such good people as -you, and, most wonderful of all, such a being as my wife, love me?</p> - -<p>It did not much disturb his happiness, when, before -Tolstoy had been married a fortnight, an event occurred which -might easily have led to very disagreeable consequences. On -3rd October the Minister of the Interior called the attention -of the Minister of Education to the harmful nature of the -<i>Yásnaya Polyána</i> magazine. This is what he wrote:</p> - -<p class="i2">A careful perusal of the educational magazine, <i>Yásnaya -Polyána</i>, edited by Count Tolstoy, leads to the conviction that -that magazine ... frequently propagates ideas which apart -from their incorrectness are by their very tendency harmful.... -I consider it necessary to direct your Excellency's attention -to the general tendency and spirit of that magazine, which -often infringes the fundamental rules of religion and morality.... -I have the honour to inform you, Sir, of this, in the expectation -that you may be inclined to consider it desirable to -direct the special attention of the Censor to this publication.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -Fortunately the decision of the matter did not lie with -the Minister of the Interior, but with the Minister of -Education, who on receiving this communication had the -magazine in question carefully examined, and, on 24th -October, replied that he found nothing harmful or contrary -to religion in its tendency. It contained extreme opinions -on educational matters, no doubt, but these, he said, should -be criticised in educational periodicals rather than prohibited -by the Censor. 'In general,' added the Minister:</p> - -<p class="i2">I must say that Count Tolstoy's educational activity deserves -full respect, and the Ministry of Education is bound to assist -and co-operate with him, though it cannot share all his views, -some of which after full consideration he will himself probably -reject.</p> - -<p>Other things besides the suspicion in which he was held -by the Minister of the Interior, tended to discourage Tolstoy. -His magazine had few subscribers and attracted but little -attention. The year's issue was causing him a loss of something -like Rs. 3000 (say about Ł450)—a larger sum than -he could well afford to throw away. So he decided to discontinue -it after the twelfth number. The month after -his marriage he also closed the school, which was too great -a tax on his time and attention.</p> - -<p>It has often been said that the obstacles placed in his -way by the Government turned him aside from educational -work, but in speaking to me about it Tolstoy remarked -that really the main factor was his marriage, and his preoccupation -with family life.</p> - -<p>Both he and his wife were absorbed by their personal -happiness, though from time to time small quarrels and -misunderstandings arose between them. So impulsive and -strenuous a nature as Tolstoy's was sure to have its fluctuations -of feeling, but on the whole the ties binding the -couple together grew stronger and closer as the months -passed into years.</p> - -<p>The Countess's parents used to say: 'We could not have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -wished for greater happiness for our daughter.' The Countess -not only loved Tolstoy dearly as a husband, but had the -deepest admiration for him as a writer. He on his side -often said that he found in family life the completest happiness, -and in Sophia Andréyevna not only a loving wife -and an excellent mother for his children, but an admirable -assistant in his literary work, in which, owing to his careless -and unmethodical habits, an intelligent and devoted amanuensis -was invaluable. The Countess acquired remarkable -skill in deciphering his often extremely illegible handwriting, -and was sometimes able to guess in a quite extraordinary -way the meaning of his hasty jottings and incomplete -sentences.</p> - -<p>One drawback to their almost complete happiness lay in -the fact that though active and possessed of great physical -strength, Tolstoy seldom enjoyed any long periods of uninterrupted -good health. In his correspondence we find -frequent references to indisposition. In early manhood, he -seems to have distended his stomach, and, especially after -the hardships he endured during the war of 1854-5, he was -subject to digestive troubles for the rest of his days.</p> - -<p>Town life did not attract him. He had never felt at ease -in what is called high society; nor were his means large -enough to enable him to support a wife and family in a -good position in town. Still, towards the close of the year -of his marriage, he and the Countess spent some weeks in -Moscow.</p> - - -<h3>1863</h3> - -<p>They were however soon back at Yásnaya. In February -Fet visited them there, and found them overflowing -with life and happiness.</p> - -<p>On 15th May, after the Tolstoys and Fet had by some -chance just missed meeting at the house of a neighbouring -proprietor, Tolstoy wrote to his friend:</p> - -<p class="i2">We just missed seeing you, and how sorry I am that we did! -How much I want to talk over with you. Not a day passes -without our mentioning you several times. My wife is not at -all 'playing with dolls.' Don't you insult her. She is my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> -serious helpmate, though now bearing a burden from which she -hopes to be free early in July. What won't she do afterwards? -We are <i>ufanizing</i><a name="FNanchor_48" id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> little by little. I have made an important -discovery, which I hasten to impart to you. Clerks and overseers -are only a hindrance to the management of an estate. -Try the experiment of dismissing them all; then sleep ten hours -a day, and be assured that everything will get along <i>not worse</i>. -I have made the experiment and am quite satisfied with its -success.</p> - -<p class="i2">How, oh how, are we to see one another? If you go to -Moscow with Márya Petróvna and do not come to visit us, it -will be dreadful offensive. (My wife, who was reading this -letter, prompted that sentence.) I wanted to write much, but -time lacks. I embrace you with all my heart; my wife bows -profoundly to you, and I to your wife.</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>Business</i>: When you are in Orél, buy me 20 poods [720 lbs.] -of various kinds of twine, reins, and shaft-traces, if they cost -less than Rs. 2.30 per pood including carriage, and send them -me by a carter. The money shall be paid at once.</p> - -<p>Fet soon availed himself of the invitation, and after driving -past the low towers which mark the entrance to the -birch alley leading to the house, he came upon Tolstoy -eagerly directing the dragging of a lake and taking all -possible care that the carp should not escape. The Countess, -in a white dress, came running down the alley, with a huge -bundle of barn-door keys hanging at her waist. After -cordially greeting the visitor, she, notwithstanding her -'exceedingly interesting condition,' leapt over the low railing -between the alley and the pond. It will however be -better to quote Fet's own account of his visit:</p> - -<p class="i2">'Sónya, tell Nestérka to fetch a sack from the barn, and let -us go back to the house,' said Tolstoy—who had already -greeted me warmly, without losing sight of the carp-capturing -operations the while.</p> - -<p class="i2">The Countess immediately detached a huge key from her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -belt and gave it to a boy, who started at a run to fulfil -the order.</p> - -<p class="i2">'There,' remarked the Count, 'you have an example of our -method. We keep the keys ourselves; and all the estate -business is carried on by boys.'</p> - -<p class="i2">At the animated dinner table, the carp we had seen captured -made their appearance. We all seemed equally at ease and -happy....</p> - -<p class="i2">That evening was one truly 'filled with hope.' It was a -sight to see with what pride and bright hope Tatiána Alexándrovna, -the kindest of aunts, regarded the young people she so -loved; and how, turning to me, she said frankly, 'You see, -with <i>mon cher Léon</i> of course things could not be otherwise.'</p> - -<p class="i2">As to the Countess, life to one who in her condition leapt -over fences, could not but be lit up with the brightest of hopes. -The Count himself, who had passed his whole life in an ardent -search for novelties, evidently at this period entered a world -till then unknown, in the mighty future of which he believed -with all the enthusiasm of a young artist. I myself, during -that evening, was carried away by the general tone of careless -happiness, and did not feel the stone of Sisyphus oppressing -me.</p> - -<p>Soon after this visit, on 28th June 1863, a son, Sergius, -was born. During the first eleven years of marriage, the -Countess bore her husband eight children, and another five -during the next fifteen years: making in all, thirteen -children in twenty-six years.</p> - -<p>But we must turn back a few months to mention the -stories by Tolstoy which appeared during this year.</p> - -<p>In the January number of the <i>Russian Messenger</i>, Katkóf -had published <i>The Cossacks</i>, which Tolstoy had kept back -to revise, and had only delivered in December.</p> - -<p>In the February number of the same magazine appeared -<i>Polikoúshka</i>, the story of a serf who, having lost some -money belonging to his mistress, hangs himself.</p> - -<p>These stories are referred to in the following letter from -Tolstoy to Fet, undated, but written in 1863:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -Both your letters were equally important, significant, and -agreeable to me, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch. I am living in a -world so remote from literature and its critics, that on receiving -such a letter as yours, my first feeling is one of astonishment. -Whoever was it wrote <i>The Cossacks</i> and <i>Polikoúshka</i>? And -what's the use of talking about them? Paper endures anything, -and editors pay for and print anything. But that is -merely a first impression; afterwards one enters into the meaning -of what you say, rummages about in one's head, and finds -in some corner of it, among old, forgotten rubbish, something -indefinite, labelled <i>Art</i>; and pondering on what you say, -agrees that you are right, and even finds it pleasant to rummage -about in that old rubbish, amid the smell one once loved. One -even feels a desire to write. Of course, you are right. But -then there are few readers of your sort. <i>Polikoúshka</i> is the -chatter of a man who 'wields a pen,' on the first theme that -comes to hand; but <i>The Cossacks</i> has some matter in it, though -poor. I am now writing the story of a pied gelding, which I -expect to print in autumn. [It did not appear till 1888!] But -how can one write now? Invisible efforts—and even visible -ones—are now going on; and, moreover, I am again up to my -ears in farming. So is Sónya. We have no steward; we have -assistants for field-work and building; but she, single-handed, -attends to the office and the cash. I have the bees, the sheep, -a new orchard, and the distillery. It all progresses, little by -little, though of course badly compared with our ideal.</p> - -<p class="i2">What do you think of the Polish business? [the insurrection -of 1863, then breaking out]. It looks bad! Shall we—you -and I and Borísof—not have to take our swords down from -their rusty nails?...</p> - -<p>The bees, which Tolstoy here places first among his out-door -duties, occupied much of his time, and he often spent -hours studying the habits of these interesting creatures.</p> - -<p>Tourgénef, writing to Fet, commented on <i>The Cossacks</i> -as follows:</p> - -<p class="i2">I read <i>The Cossacks</i> and went into ecstasies over it; so did -Bótkin. Only the personality of Olénin spoils the generally -splendid impression. To contrast civilisation with fresh, primeval -Nature, there was no need again to produce that dull,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> -unhealthy fellow always preoccupied with himself. Why does -Tolstoy not get rid of that nightmare?</p> - -<p>Several months later he wrote:</p> - - -<p class="i2">After you left, I read Tolstoy's <i>Polikoúshka</i> and marvelled -at the strength of his huge talent. But he has used up too -much material, and it is a pity he drowned the son. It makes -it too terrible. But there are pages that are truly wonderful! -It made a cold shudder run down even my back, though you -know my back has become thick and coarse. He is a master, -a master!</p> - -<p>Tolstoy was now fairly launched on the life he was -destined to lead for sixteen years: a quiet, country life, -occupied with family joys and cares. These years followed -one another with so little change that the story of a decade -and a half can almost be compressed into a sentence. -Children came in quick succession, two great novels and an -<i>ABC</i> Book were produced, a large orchard was planted with -apple-trees, the Yásnaya Polyána property was improved, -and new estates were purchased east of the Vólga.</p> - -<p>During the year 1863 Tolstoy wrote two plays, which -have never been published. One, a farcical comedy called -<i>The Nihilist</i>, was privately performed at home with great -success. The second, also a comedy, written on a topic of -the day, was called <i>The Infected Family</i>. Hoping to have -it staged, Tolstoy took it to Moscow early in 1864; but -the theatrical season, which in Russia ends at the commencement -of Lent, was already too far advanced; and -he never subsequently appears to have troubled himself to -have it either published or acted.</p> - -<p>The Countess Tolstoy's brother, S. A. Behrs (who from -1866 when he was a boy of eleven, till 1878, spent every -summer with the Tolstoys) in his book, <i>Recollections of -Count Tolstoy</i>, gives much interesting information about -the life at Yásnaya. He mentions that it was a proverb -about the hard fate of penniless noblemen, that prompted -Tolstoy to take all possible care to provide for the future<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> -of his children; and the passage in the letter quoted above, -about the bees, sheep, new orchard and distillery with which -he was occupied, shows how this care was applied.</p> - -<p>In his <i>Confession</i>, Tolstoy says of the years now under -review:</p> - -<p class="i2">Returning from abroad I married. The new conditions of -happy family life completely diverted me from all search for -the general meaning of life. My whole life was centred at -that time in my family, wife and children, and in care to -increase our means of livelihood. My striving after self-perfection -and progress, was now again replaced by the effort -simply to secure the best possible conditions for myself and my -family.</p> - -<p class="i2">So another fifteen years passed.</p> - -<p class="i2">In spite of the fact that I regarded authorship as of no -importance, I yet, during those fifteen years, continued to -write. I had already tasted the temptation of authorship: the -temptation of immense monetary rewards and applause for my -insignificant work; and I devoted myself to it as a means of -improving my material position, and of stifling in my soul all -questions as to the meaning of my own life, or of life in -general.</p> - -<p>Again, writing in 1903 of this middle period of his life, -Tolstoy says:</p> - -<p class="i2">Then came a third, an eighteen-year period which may be -the least interesting of all (from my marriage to my spiritual -re-birth) and which from a worldly point of view may be called -moral: that is to say, that during those eighteen years I lived -a correct, honest, family life, not indulging myself in any -vices condemned by public opinion, but with interests wholly -limited to selfish cares for my family, for the increase of our -property, the acquisition of literary success, and all kinds of -pleasure.</p> - -<p>(In the one place he speaks of 'fifteen years,' and in the -other of 'eighteen years'; but that is his way, and chronological -exactitude is not the important matter here.)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> -After the Emancipation, in many parts of Russia the -landlords had more or less serious difficulty with the -peasants, among whom stories were rife to the effect that -the Tsar intended to give them all the land, but had been -deceived by the officials into only giving half; and, for a -time, riots were not infrequent. There was no serious -trouble of this sort on Tolstoy's estate; but his sister -(whom I met at Yásnaya in 1902, long after her husband's -death and when she, a nun, had been allowed out of her -convent to visit her brother, after his very serious illness) -told me that on one occasion the peasants refused to make -the hay; and to save it from being lost, Tolstoy, his wife, -the members of the family, and the masters from eleven -neighbouring schools, all set to work with a will, and by -their own strenuous exertions saved the crop before the -weather changed.</p> - -<p>On settling down to married life, Tolstoy formed the plan -of writing a great novel, and the epoch he at first intended -to deal with was that of the Constitutional conspiracy -which came to a head on the accession of Nicholas I to -the throne in December 1825. That quite premature -military plot was quickly snuffed out. So little were -things ripe for it, that many even of the soldiers who shouted -for a 'Constitution' (<i>Konstitútsia</i>) thought they were -demanding allegiance to Nicholas's elder brother Constantine, -who having married a Polish lady of the Roman Catholic -faith had renounced his right to the throne. While considering -the plan of his work, Tolstoy found himself carried -back to the scenes amid which his characters had grown up: -to the time of the Napoleonic wars and the invasion of -Russia by the French in 1812. Here was a splendid background -for a novel, and putting aside <i>The Decembrists</i> he -commenced <i>War and Peace</i>, a work conceived on a gigantic -scale, and that resulted in a splendid success.</p> - - -<h3>1864</h3> - -<p>His attention, as we have already seen, was however not -wholly absorbed by literature, but was divided between that -and the management of his property. He had during his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> -stay among the Kirghiz in the Province of Samára, noticed -how extremely cheap and how fertile was the land in those -parts. He therefore wished to purchase an estate there, -and visited the district in the autumn of 1864, probably -with that end in view. How long he stayed there I do not -know, but from a letter he wrote to Fet on 7th October, -saying, 'We start for home to-day and do not know how -we shall make our way to happy Yásnaya,' we -know when he returned. In November he again -wrote to Fet, and mentioned the laborious preparations -he was at that time making for <i>War and Peace</i>:</p> - -<p class="i2">I am in the dumps and am writing nothing, but work painfully. -You cannot imagine how hard I find the preliminary -work of ploughing deep the field in which I must sow. To -consider and reconsider all that may happen to all the future -characters in the very large work I am preparing, and to weigh -millions of possible combinations in order to select from among -them a millionth part, is terribly difficult. And that is what I -am doing....</p> - -<p>Late in that month he wrote again to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">This autumn I have written a good deal of my novel. <i>Ars -longa, vita brevis</i> comes to my mind every day. If one could but -make time to accomplish a hundredth part of what one understands—but -only a thousandth part gets done! Nevertheless -the consciousness that <i>I can</i> is what brings happiness to men -of our sort. You know that feeling, and I experience it with -particular force this year.</p> - -<p>The year 1864 saw the publication of the first collected -edition of Tolstoy's works, and though they have been -already mentioned, it may be as well to give a complete -list of those twenty 'trials of the pen' which preceded the -appearance of <i>War and Peace</i>, and had already sufficed to -place Tolstoy in the front rank of Russian writers. The -following are their titles, with the years in which they -were first published. They suffice to fill four very substantial -volumes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="publications"> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1852</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Childhood.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1853</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Raid: A Volunteer's Story.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1854</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Boyhood.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1855</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Memoirs of a Billiard-Marker.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1855</td> - <td class="tdl">*<i>Sevastopol in December.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl">*<i>Sevastopol in May.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl">*<i>The Wood-Felling.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1856</td> - <td class="tdl">*<i>Sevastopol in August.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Snow Storm.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl">*<i>Two Hussars.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl">*<i>Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>A Squire's Morning.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1857</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Youth.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Lucerne.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1858</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Albert.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1859</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Three Deaths.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Family Happiness.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1862</td> - <td class="tdl">Educational articles in <i>Yásnaya Polyána</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1863</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Cossacks.</i></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdll">"</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Polikoúshka.</i></td> -</tr> - -</table> - -<p>As I am sometimes asked where satisfactory versions of these -stories can be found, I may say that I think the best version -of <i>Childhood</i>, <i>Boyhood</i> and <i>Youth</i><a name="FNanchor_49" id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> is Miss Isabel Hapgood's, -and I make no apology for quoting a letter Tolstoy wrote -me on 23rd December 1901, concerning the volume, <i>Sevastopol</i>,<a name="FNanchor_50" id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> -translated by my wife and myself, and containing -the six stories marked * in the above list. I do this with -less hesitation, because his letter illustrates the cordial way -in which he encourages those who do any work he can -approve of, in connection with his own activity:</p> - -<p class="i2">I think I already wrote you how unusually the volume -pleases me. All in it is excellent: the edition and the footnotes, -and chiefly the translation, and yet more the conscientiousness -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -with which all this has been done. I happened to -open it at <i>Two Hussars</i> and read on to the end just as if it -were something new that had been written in English.</p> - -<p>One day in October Tolstoy went out for a ride on his -favourite horse, an English thoroughbred named Máshka. -His borzoi dogs Lúbka and Krylát accompanied him. After -he had ridden some way, a hare suddenly started up and -the dogs rushed after it. Tolstoy had not come out with the -idea of hunting, but on seeing the dogs chasing the hare he -could not restrain himself, and galloped after them, uttering -the hunting cry, 'Atoú!' The weather was bad, the ground -slippery, and the horse stumbled at a narrow ravine and fell, -dislocating and breaking its rider's arm. The horse ran -away, and Tolstoy, who was quite alone and several miles -from home, fainted. When he came to, he managed to -drag himself a distance of more than half a mile to the highroad, -where he lay in great pain. Some peasant carts passed -by, but at first he could not attract any one's attention. -When at last he was noticed, in order not to alarm his wife, -he asked to be taken to the hut of an old wife, Akoulína, -famed as a bone-setter. In spite of all that she and her -son Iván could do—soaping, pulling, twisting and bandaging -the arm—they could not set it, and Tolstoy continued to -suffer the greatest pain.</p> - -<p>The Countess, who had meanwhile heard of the accident, -reached the hut late at night. She at once arranged to have -her husband taken home, and sent to Toúla for a doctor. -The latter arrived about 3 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, and after administering -chloroform, succeeded, with the aid of two labourers who -were called in to assist, in setting the arm. On coming to, -Tolstoy's profound disbelief in the efficiency of doctors, -prompted him to send for another surgeon. After a consultation -the two physicians decided that everything had -been done properly, and that Tolstoy must lie up for six -weeks to allow the arm to recover. When that time was -up, Tolstoy asked for his gun and fired it off to test his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -arm. No sooner had he done so than he again felt great -pain. He thereupon wrote to his father-in-law, Dr. -Behrs, and on his advice went to Moscow to consult the -specialists. These differed among themselves, but after a -week's hesitation a fresh operation was decided upon, -and was carried out by two competent surgeons. This -time it was quite successful, and in due course the patient -completely recovered the use of his arm.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the Countess (now nursing her second child, a -daughter named Tatiána, who had been born on 4th October) -remained at Yásnaya, where her eldest child, Sergius, was -taken dangerously ill with smallpox and diarrhœa. This -was the first occasion on which Tolstoy and his wife had -been separated.</p> - -<p>While in Moscow he concluded an arrangement with -Katkóf by which he received Rs. 500 (Ł75) per printed sheet -of sixteen pages for the serial rights in <i>War and Peace</i>, -which appeared in the <i>Russian Messenger</i>. This was just -ten times the amount which, when he wrote his first stories, -Nekrásof had mentioned as the highest rate paid to any one -for the magazine rights in a story.</p> - - -<h3>1865</h3> - -<p>On 23rd January 1865, when Tolstoy had got over his accident, -he wrote Fet another of those jocular letters -which sometimes contain more of the real truth than -will bear saying seriously:</p> - -<p class="i2">Shall I tell you something surprising about myself? When -the horse threw me and broke my arm, and when I came to -after fainting, I said to myself: 'I am an author.' And I am -an author, but a solitary, on-the-quiet kind of author.... In -a few days the first part of 'The Year 1805' [so the first part of -<i>War and Peace</i> was originally called] will appear. Please write -me your opinion of it in detail. I value your opinion and that -of a man whom I dislike the more, the more I grow up—Tourgénef. -He will understand. All I have printed hitherto -I consider but a trial of my pen; what I am now printing, -though it pleases me better than my former work, still seems -weak—as an Introduction must be. But what follows will -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> -be—tremendous!!!... Write what is said about it in the -different places you know, and especially how it goes with the -general public. No doubt it will pass unnoticed. I expect and -wish it to do so; if only they don't abuse me, for abuse upsets -one....</p> - -<p class="i2">I am glad you like my wife; though I love her less than my -novel, still, you know, she is my wife. Be sure you come to -visit us; for if you and Márya Petróvna do not stay here -on your return from Moscow it will really, without a joke, be -too stupid!</p> - -<p>In May 1865 one sees by a letter of Tolstoy's to Fet that -one of the children had been ill and he himself had been -in bed for three days and barely escaped a fever. His -wife's younger sister, Tánya, she of the contralto voice -who (with some admixture of his wife) served Tolstoy -as model for Natásha in <i>War and Peace</i>, was spending the -summer at Yásnaya, as she had done each year since her -sister's marriage. The Countess Mary and her children -were also there. The children, he says, were well, and out -all day in the open air. He adds:</p> - -<p class="i2">I continue to write little by little, and am content with my -work. The woodcock still attract me, and every evening I -shoot <i>at them</i>, that is, generally, past them. My farming goes -on well, that is to say, it does not disturb me much—which is -all I demand of it....</p> - -<p>In reply to a suggestion from Fet, he goes on to say that -he will not write more about the Yásno-Polyána school, -but hopes some day to express the conclusions to which -his three years' ardent passion for that work had brought -him. Then comes a reference to the state of agricultural -affairs after the Emancipation, and a passing allusion -to the question of famine—a subject destined to make -great demands on Tolstoy's attention in later years:</p> - -<p class="i2">Our affairs as agriculturists are now like those of a share-holder -whose shares have lost value and are unsaleable on -'Change. The case is a bad one. Personally I only ask that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> -it should not demand of me so much attention and participation -as to deprive me of my tranquillity. Latterly I have been -content with my private affairs; but the general trend—with -the impending misery of famine—torments me more and more -every day. It is so strange, and even good and terrible. We -have rosy radishes on our table, and yellow butter, and well-baked, -soft bread on a clean tablecloth; the garden is green, -and our young ladies in muslin dresses are glad it is hot and -shady; while <i>there</i> that evil hunger-devil is already at work, -covering the fields with goose-weed, chafing the hard heels of -the peasants and their wives, and cracking the hoofs of the -cattle. Our weather, the corn, and the meadows, are really -terrible. How are they with you?</p> - -<p>The letter closes with advice to Fet to transfer his chief -attention from the land to literature, and a statement that -Tolstoy himself has done so, and is finding life less difficult.</p> - -<p>When Tolstoy went out hunting hares and foxes with -borzoi dogs, Miss Tatiána Behrs (the Tánya alluded to -above) used often to accompany him.</p> - -<p>Between this lady and Count Sergius Tolstoy (Leo's -elder brother) an attachment had grown up which caused -great distress to them both, for, besides being twenty-two -years older than the lady, Sergius was living with, and had a -family by, the gipsy mentioned in a previous chapter, though -he was not legally married. His affection for his family prevented -his yielding completely to his love for Tánya and -asking her to be his wife. The Behrs were quite willing -that he should do so, and the young lady would have -accepted him, and was much pained by the vacillation that -resulted from the battle between his love for her and his -affection for his family. Ultimately he resolved to be faithful -to the union he had formed, and, in order to legitimise -his children, went through the form of marriage with their -mother in 1867. Almost at the same time, Tánya, having recovered -from her disappointment, married a Mr. Kouzmínsky.</p> - -<p>Here again one gets a slight glimpse of the experience of -life which has led Tolstoy, contrary to the opinion general<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> -among the Russian 'intelligents,' to advocate faithfulness -at all costs to the woman with whom one has once formed a -union.</p> - -<p>A knowledge of Tánya's story adds to the interest with -which, in Tolstoy's great novel, one reads of Natásha -Róstof's troubles and ultimate happiness.</p> - -<p>Towards the end of May, Tolstoy visited the estate of -Nikólsky (which after the death of his brother Nicholas -had become his), and had the house there repaired. In -June the whole family moved to Nikólsky, where they -lived very quietly; Tolstoy continuing to write <i>War and -Peace</i>. His friend D. A. Dyákof's estate was only ten -miles away, and Tolstoy saw much of him at this time, -besides having him at other times as a frequent visitor -at Yásnaya. Dyákof was his chief adviser in agricultural -matters, as well as in his efforts to improve the stock -of his cattle, pigs and poultry. Almost the only other -visitors at Nikólsky were the Fets; and the poet records -meeting there the Countess's 'charming sister,' Tánya, and -experiencing violent antipathy for the sour koumýs, about -which Tolstoy was enthusiastic, and a large tub of which -stood near the front door.</p> - -<p>While living at Nikólsky Tolstoy was invited for a fortnight -by a neighbouring landlord, Kiréyevsky, to a grand -hunt, in which the huntsmen wore special costumes, and -luxurious dinners were served in the woods. What interested -Tolstoy most in all this was not the hunt, but the -opportunity it afforded him of studying types of the old -and new aristocracy.</p> - -<p>At this period of his life one hears of his playing the -guitar and singing passionate love-songs.</p> - -<p>During the autumn of 1865 Tolstoy, accompanied by his -eleven-year-old brother-in-law, visited the battlefield of -Borodinó. They left Moscow in Dr. Behrs' carriage, with -post-horses. When the time came for them to have something -to eat, they found that the lunch basket had been -left behind, and they had only a small basket of grapes. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -Thereupon Tolstoy remarked to his companion, 'I am sorry, -not that we have left the basket of food behind, but because -your father will be upset and will be angry with his -man.' The journey took only one day, and they stayed -at the monastery erected in memory of those who fell in -the great fight. For two days Tolstoy investigated the -scene of the conflict which he was about to describe in -his novel, and he then drew the plan of the fight which -appears in that work. Even in 1865 there were but few -survivors of the campaign of 1812 to be found in the neighbourhood.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy used at this time to spend whole days in the -Roumyántsef Museum in Moscow, studying books and manuscripts -relating to the times of Alexander I, and especially -to the reformatory and Masonic movements which then -sprang up in Russia, but were subsequently suppressed on -political grounds.</p> - -<p>S. A. Behrs tells us that Tolstoy</p> - -<p class="i2">was always fond of children, and liked to have them about -him. He easily won their confidence, and seemed to have -found the key to their hearts. He appeared to have no -difficulty in suiting himself to a strange child, and with a single -question set it completely at ease, so that it began at once to -chat away with perfect freedom. Independently of this, he -could divine a child's thought with the skill of a trained -educationalist. I remember his children sometimes running up -to him, and telling him they had a great secret; and when they -persisted in refusing to divulge it, he would quietly whisper -in their ears what it was. 'Ah, what a papa ours is! How did -he find it out?' they would cry, in astonishment.</p> - -<p>He also says:</p> - -<p class="i2">Gifted by nature with rare tact and delicacy, he is extremely -gentle in his bearing and conduct to others. I never heard him -scold a servant. Yet they all had the greatest respect for him, -were fond of him, and seemed even to fear him. Nor, with all -his zeal for sport, have I ever seen him whip a dog or beat -his horse.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> -A servant who lived with him more than twenty years -has said: 'Living in the Count's house from my childhood, I -loved Leo Nikoláyevitch as though he were my father'; and -in another place he remarks:</p> - -<p class="i2">The Count had a stern appearance, but treated the servants -excellently, and made things easy for all strangers whom he -met. He has a very good heart, and when he was cross with -me for anything, I, knowing his character, used at once to -leave the room, and when next he called me, it was as though -nothing unpleasant had happened.</p> - -<p>Speaking of Tolstoy's later years the same servant says:</p> - -<p class="i2">Leo Nikoláyevitch has now become quite a different man. -From 1865 to 1870 he was active in managing the estate, and -was fond of cows, bred sheep, looked after the property, and, -in a word, attended to everything. At that time he was hot-tempered -and impulsive. He would order the trap to be -brought when he wanted to go hunting. His man, Alexis, -would bring him his hunting-boots, and the Count would shout -at him, 'Why have you not dried them? You are not worth -your salt!' Alexis, knowing the Count's character, would -take the boots away, and bring them back almost directly. -'There! now they're all right,' the Count would say, and -would brighten up instantly.</p> - -<p>His love of the country and his dislike of towns sprang -partly from his keen appreciation of the charm and loveliness -of Nature. He saw fresh beauty every day, and often -exclaimed: 'What wealth God has! He gives each day -something to distinguish it from all the rest.'</p> - -<p>Sportsman and agriculturist himself, he maintains that -sportsmen and agriculturists alone know Nature. To quote -Behrs again:</p> - -<p class="i2">No bad weather was allowed to interfere with his daily walk. -He could put up with loss of appetite, from which he occasionally -suffered, but he could never go a day without a sharp -walk in the open air. In general, he was fond of active movement, -riding, gymnastics, but particularly walking. If his -literary work chanced to go badly, or if he wished to throw off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> -the effects of any unpleasantness, a long walk was his sovereign -remedy. He could walk the whole day without fatigue; and -we have frequently ridden together for ten or twelve hours. In -his study he kept a pair of dumb-bells, and sometimes had -gymnastic apparatus erected there.</p> - -<p>All luxury was distasteful to him; and much that ordinary -people regard as common comforts, seemed to him -harmful indulgences, bad for the souls and bodies of men. -Nothing could well be more simple than the arrangement -of his house at Yásnaya, substantial and solidly built as it -was, with its double windows, and the Dutch stoves so -necessary to warm a Russian house.</p> - -<p>He was not at all particular about what he ate, but -objected to a soft bed or spring mattress, and at one time -he used to sleep on a leather-covered sofa.</p> - -<p>He dressed very simply, and when at home never wore -starched shirts or tailor-made clothes, but adapted to his -own requirements the ordinary Russian blouse, having it -made of woollen stuff for winter, and of linen for summer. -His out-door winter dress was also an adaptation of the -sheepskin <i>shoúba</i> and peasants' <i>caftán</i>, made of the plainest -material; and these afforded such good protection from the -weather that they were often borrowed by members of the -household as well as by visitors.</p> - -<p>During the writing of <i>War and Peace</i> Tolstoy generally -enjoyed good spirits, and on days when his work had gone -well, he would gleefully announce that he had left 'a bit of -my life in the inkstand.' One of his chief recreations was -to go out hare-hunting with borzoi dogs, and this he often -did in company with a neighbouring landed proprietor, -Bíbikof.</p> - -<p>From October 1865 he ceased to keep his Diary, and did -not renew it during the period covered by this volume.</p> - - -<h3>1866</h3> - -<p>On Twelfth Night a grand masquerade was held at -Yásnaya, and the festivities were kept up till past -two in the morning, and were followed by a troika -drive next day.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> - -<p>That same January the family moved to Moscow, where -they hired a six-roomed apartment for Rs. 155 a month -(say about Ł23); and there they remained for six weeks -while the second part of <i>War and Peace</i> was being printed -for the <i>Russian Messenger</i>.</p> - -<p>Among the friends Tolstoy saw most of at this time were -Aksákof and Prince Obolénsky. He also attended the -Moscow drawing school, and he tried his hand at sculpture—modelling -a bust of his wife. It does not appear, however, -that he continued this occupation long.</p> - -<p>In May 1866 a second son, Ilyá, was born, and an -English nurse introduced into the family.</p> - -<p>During this summer an infantry regiment was stationed -near Yásnaya, in which a young Sub-Lieutenant named -Kolokóltsef was serving, whom the Countess Tolstoy had -known in Moscow. He visited the Tolstoys, and introduced -to them his Colonel Únosha, and his fellow-officer -Ensign Stasulévitch (brother of the Liberal editor of the -monthly magazine, <i>The Messenger of Europe</i>), who had -been degraded to the ranks because, while he was on prison-duty, -a prisoner had escaped. Ensign Stasulévitch was -middle-aged, but he had only recently regained his rank as -officer and joined the regiment commanded by his former -comrade, Colonel Únosha.</p> - -<p>One day Stasulévitch and Kolokóltsef called on Tolstoy -and told him that a soldier, serving as secretary in one of -the companies of the regiment, had struck his Company -Commander, and was to be tried by court-martial. They -asked Tolstoy to undertake the man's defence, and he, -having always regarded capital punishment with abhorrence, -readily agreed to do so.</p> - -<p>The circumstances of the case were these. The soldier, -Shiboúnin, was a man of very limited intelligence, whose -chief occupation was writing out reports. When he had -any money he spent it on solitary drinking. The Captain -in command of his company, a Pole, apparently disliked -him, and frequently found fault with his reports and made -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> -him rewrite them. This treatment Shiboúnin bitterly -resented; and one day, when he had been drinking, on -being told to rewrite a document he had prepared, he -insulted and struck the Captain. By law the penalty for -a private who strikes his officer is death. Tolstoy nevertheless -hoped to save the man's life, and obtained permission -to plead on his behalf. The trial took place on 6th June, -and the members of the court-martial were Colonel Únosha, -Stasulévitch, and Kolokóltsef; the latter being merely a -light-headed youngster.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy, when telling me of the incident, remarked that -of the four occasions on which he has spoken in public, -this was the time that he did so with most assurance and -satisfaction to himself. He had written out his speech; the -main point of which was that Shiboúnin was not responsible -for his actions, being abnormal, and having from the combined -effect of intemperance and the monotony of his -occupation, become idiotic and obsessed by an idea that -his Company Commander did not understand report writing, -and unfairly rejected work faultlessly done. The law decrees -a mitigation of sentence for crimes committed by -those who are not in the full possession of their senses; and -as this contradicts the paragraph allotting death as the sole -punishment for a soldier who strikes his officer, Tolstoy -argued that mercy should be extended to the prisoner.</p> - -<p>The Court adjourned to consider its verdict, and (as -Tolstoy subsequently learnt) Stasulévitch was in favour of -mercy. The Colonel, who was more of a military machine -than a human being, demanded the death sentence, and the -decision therefore rested with the boyish Sub-Lieutenant, -who (submitting to his Colonel) voted for death.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy wished to appeal (through his aunt, the Countess -A. A. Tolstoy) to Alexander II for a pardon; but with -characteristic disregard of details, he omitted to mention the -name of the regiment in which the affair had occurred, and -this enabled the Minister of War, Milútin, to delay the -presentation of the petition until Shiboúnin had been shot;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> -which occurred on 9th August. Tolstoy's appeal never, -therefore, reached the Emperor.</p> - -<p>In contrast with the action of the Colonel and the -Minister, was that of the peasants of the district, who -flocked in crowds to see the prisoner; bringing him milk, -eggs, home-made linen and all the gifts their poverty could -afford. When the day of execution arrived, Shiboúnin went -quite impassively to his death; to all appearance incapable -of understanding what was happening. The people thronged -around the post to which he was to be tied—the women -weeping and some of them fainting. They fetched a priest -to perform Masses at his grave, and paid for the service to be -repeated all day. At night contributions of copper money, -linen, and candles such as are burnt in Russian churches, -were laid upon his grave. Next day the Masses were -recommenced, and were continued until the local police forbade -any more religious services, and levelled the grave that -the people might not continue to visit it.</p> - -<p>The knowledge of such a difference between the spirit of -the governors and the governed, helps us once again to understand -Tolstoy's ultimate conviction that Government and -the administration of law are essentially evil things, always -tending to make the world worse and not better. In later -life we may be sure he would not have been content to -base his plea for mercy on merely legal grounds.</p> - -<p>From time to time he continued to be troubled with ill-health; -for instance, in July 1866 he writes that he is -confined to the house with pains in the stomach which make -it impossible for him to turn quickly.</p> - -<p>In November—contrary to what he had often said in the -past and was to return to in later life—he expresses his -sense of the importance of authorship. Fet, criticising -something in <i>War and Peace</i>, had quoted the words, <i>irritabilis -poetarum gens</i>, and Tolstoy, replying 'Not I,' welcomes -the criticism, begs for more, and goes on to say:</p> - -<p class="i2">What have you been doing? Not on the Zémstvo [County -Council] or in farming (all that is compulsory activity such as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> -we do elementally and with as little will of our own as the ants -who make an ant-hill; in that sphere there is nothing good or -bad), but what are you doing in thought, with the mainspring -of your being, which alone has been, and is, and will endure -in the world? Is that spring still alive? Does it wish to -manifest itself? How does it express its wish? Or has it -forgotten how to express itself? That is the chief thing.</p> - -<p>By the autumn of this year the railway southwards from -Moscow to Koursk had been constructed as far as Toúla, -making it easier to get from Yásnaya to Moscow, and to -the rest of Europe. Yet Tolstoy comparatively seldom -felt tempted to leave his much-loved, tranquil, busy, -country life, in which alone he found himself able to work -with the maximum of efficiency.</p> - -<p>About this time he undertook the planting of a birch -wood, which has since grown up and become valuable.</p> - - -<h3>1867</h3> - -<p>During the summer of 1867 Tolstoy, despite the dislike -and distrust of doctors—which he shares with Rousseau, -and which he has again and again expressed in his -works—was induced by the state of his health and -by his wife's persuasion, to consult the most famous Moscow -doctor of the time, Professor Zahárin, on whose advice he -drank mineral water during several weeks.</p> - -<p>Writing to Fet he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">If I wrote to you, dear friend, every time I think of you, you -would receive two letters a day from me. But one cannot get -everything said, and sometimes one is lazy and sometimes too -busy, as is the case at present. I have recently returned from -Moscow and have begun a strict cure under the direction of -Zahárin; and most important of all, I am printing my novel at -Ris's, and have to prepare and send off MSS. and proofs every -day under threat of a fine and of delayed publication. That is -both pleasant and also hard, as you know.</p> - -<p>He goes on to criticise Tourgénef's novel, <i>Dym</i> (<i>Smoke</i>), -which had appeared that year:</p> - -<p class="i2">About <i>Smoke</i> I meant to write long ago, and, of course, just -what you have now written. That is why we love one another—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>because -we think alike with the 'wisdom of the heart' as you -call it. (Thank you very much for that letter also: 'the -wisdom of the heart' and 'the wisdom of the mind' explain -much to me.) About <i>Smoke</i>, I think that the strength of poetry -lies in love; and the direction of that strength depends on -character. Without strength of love there is no poetry; but -strength falsely directed—the result of the poet's having an -unpleasant, weak character—creates dislike. In <i>Smoke</i> there is -hardly any love of anything, and very little poetry. There is -only love of light and playful adultery, and therefore the -poetry of that novel is repulsive. That, as you see, is just what -you write about it. Only I fear to express this opinion because -I cannot look soberly at the author, whose personality I do not -like; but I fancy my impression is the general one. One more -writer played out!</p> - -<p>In November 1867 we find the whole family again -established for a while in a lodging in Moscow, where they -seem to have remained for a large part of the winter.</p> - -<p>Here Fet visited Tolstoy and announced to him that he -had decided to arrange a Literary Evening for the benefit -of the famine-stricken peasants of Mtsensk, the district in -which Fet's estate lay. Tolstoy met the suggestion with -irony, maintaining that Fet had invented the famine; and -in reply to a request that he would ensure the success of -the evening by reading something, flatly refused to do so, -declaring that he never had and never could do such a thing -as read in public. Still, he lent Fet the chapter of <i>War and -Peace</i> containing the wonderful description of the retreat -of the Russian army from Smolénsk in fearful drought. -This as yet existed only in proof, not having been published. -(It forms Chapter V of Part X of Volume II in Mrs. -Constance Garnett's version: the best English rendering -of that novel.) Read by Prince Kougoúshef, the poet and -dramatist, it evoked thunders of applause.</p> - - -<h3>1868</h3> - -<p>On 12th April 1868 Tourgénef, writing to Fet, -said:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> -I have just finished the fourth volume of <i>War and Peace</i>. -There are things in it that are unbearable, and things that are -wonderful; and the wonderful things (they predominate) are so -magnificently good that we have never had anything better -written by anybody; and it is doubtful whether anything as -good has been written.</p> - -<p>About the same time V. P. Bótkin wrote from Petersburg: -'Tolstoy's novel is having a really remarkable success; -every one here is reading it, and they not merely read it -but become enthusiastic about it.'</p> - - -<h3>1869</h3> - -<p>The Epilogue was not completed till late in 1869. On -30th August Tolstoy writes: 'Part VI [<i>i.e.</i> Part II -of the Epilogue] which I expected to have -finished a month ago, is not ready'; and then in the next -sentence, he goes into ecstasies over Schopenhauer:</p> - -<p class="i2">Do you know what this summer has been for me? An unceasing -ecstasy over Schopenhauer, and a series of mental -enjoyments such as I never experienced before. I have bought -all his works, and have read and am reading them (as well as -Kant's). And assuredly no student in his course has learnt so -much and discovered so much as I have during this summer. I -do not know whether I shall ever change my opinion, but at -present I am confident that Schopenhauer is the greatest genius -among men. You said he had written something or other on -philosophic subjects. What do you mean by 'something or -other'? It is the whole world in an extraordinarily vivid and -beautiful reflection. I have begun translating him. Won't you -take up that work? We would publish it together. After -reading him I cannot conceive how his name can remain -unknown. The only explanation is the one he so often -repeats, that except idiots there is scarcely any one else in the -world....</p> - -<p>He goes on to say that he was starting next day for the -Government of Pénza to look at an estate he meant to buy -'in those out-of-the-way parts.' The servant who accompanied -Tolstoy has told how they travelled third class from -Moscow to Nízhni, and how Tolstoy chatted with his fellow-travellers, -so that many of them took him 'for a common<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> -man.' The idea of buying the estate in Pénza was -ultimately abandoned.</p> - -<p>He had by then completed the last part of <i>War and -Peace</i>, which was to appear complete in book form in -November. Two volumes had been published in 1866, -three more in 1868, and the sixth was not ready till this -year, 1869. (In subsequent editions the book was rearranged, -first into five and then into four volumes.)</p> - -<p>Though he had so completely conquered the laziness of -which he accused himself in early manhood as to have -become a regular, indefatigable and extremely hard worker, -yet after the completion of so gigantic a task he felt -the need of recuperation and in summer wrote to Fet: 'It -is now my deadest time: I neither write nor think, but feel -happily stupid,' and he adds that he goes out shooting -woodcock and has killed eight at an outing.</p> - -<p>That at this time he already felt something of the -strong repugnance he so strenuously expressed in later -years for luxury and profuse expenditure, is indicated -by his comment on the death of his acquaintance, the -author V. P. Bótkin, which took place in 1869. The -latter, a member of a wealthy family of tea-merchants, having -lived with economy till he knew his death was approaching, -then hired a splendid lodging in Petersburg, fitted it up -with all possible comfort and luxury, engaged a <i>chef</i> from -the kitchen of the Tsarévitch, paid daily attention to the -dinner <i>menu</i>, and engaged famous musicians to perform -quartets at his lodgings. To the magnificent feasts he gave -every day (at which, owing to the state of his health, he himself -participated chiefly as a spectator) he gathered a select -circle of those friends whose conversation interested him. -He told his brother that these arrangements for the close of -his life gave him the keenest pleasure, and that 'birds of -Paradise are singing in my soul.' On 4th October a quartet -and a banquet had been arranged as usual, and many guests -were expected—but V. P. Bótkin lay dead in his bed.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy, hearing of this, wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> -I was terribly shocked by the character of V. P. Bótkin's -death. If what is told of it is true, it is terrible. How is it -that among his friends not one was found to give to that -supreme moment of life the character suitable to it?</p> - -<p>Before <i>War and Peace</i> was finished, the Countess had -borne four children, the fourth being a boy, born on 20th -May 1869, and christened Leo—nursing them all herself, as -she did her subsequent children, with two exceptions mentioned -later on. Her willingness to do her duty in this -respect was exceptional among women of her class, for the -employment of wet-nurses was extremely common in Russia.</p> - -<p>Up to the age of ten, the children were taught Russian -and music by the Countess, and she even found time to make -their clothes herself till they reached that age. Besides -managing the household, her brother tells us that during the -composition of <i>War and Peace</i> she found time to copy it -out no less than seven times, a statement not to be taken -literally: for greatly as Tolstoy believes in the proverb that -'Gold is got by sifting,' and indefatigably as he revises his -work, not all the chapters of <i>War and Peace</i> will have been -altered that number of times. With Tolstoy the children -learnt arithmetic; and they learnt to read French out of -illustrated volumes of Jules Verne.</p> - -<p>In all that concerned the education of the children, his -wife at this time willingly constituted herself the executant -of her husband's decisions, which were based largely on J. J. -Rousseau's <i>Émile</i>, and were relaxed only in so far as the -Countess was unable to carry them out, and as Tolstoy found -himself too much occupied with other affairs to attempt to -do so. Later on there was less accord between the parents.</p> - -<p>With the first child they tried to do without a nurse, but -the attempt was unsuccessful, and subsequently Russian -nurses and foreign <i>bonnes</i> were employed.</p> - -<p>Toys were not allowed in the nursery, but much liberty -was given to the children. No violent or severe punishments -were inflicted on them, and none but their parents -might award the punishments that were administered. They -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> -aimed at gaining their children's confidence by timely -petting and kindly treatment.</p> - -<p>If one of the children told a falsehood, this was treated as -a serious matter, and the punishment usually consisted in -the parents treating the child coldly. As soon, however, as -it showed that it was really sorry, the punishment ceased; -but a child was never persuaded to say it was sorry or to -promise not to repeat its fault.</p> - -<p>All the grown-up people in the house were expected to -remember that children are apt to copy and imitate all that -they see and hear; and the children were not kept away -from the adults, except at lesson time. Consequently when -eight o'clock came and the children went to bed, Tolstoy -would often remark: 'Now, we are freer!'</p> - -<p>Partly that they might learn English, partly because -Tolstoy believed that education was freer in England than -elsewhere, young English governesses were engaged to take -charge of his children from the age of three to nine. He -was extremely fortunate in his first choice, for the young -lady remained with the Tolstoys for six years, and after her -marriage continued in most friendly relations with the -whole family.</p> - -<p>He aimed at acquainting the children with Nature, and -developing their love of it, of animals, and of insects. He -liked to let them realise their impotence and their complete -dependence on their elders, but he always did this with -kindly consideration.</p> - -<p>The children were not allowed to order the servants -about, but had to <i>ask</i> them for anything they wanted; -and that a good example might be set, every one in the -house was expected to do the same. This was the more -important, because the peasant servants in Russia, even -after the Emancipation, were scarcely regarded as belonging -to the same race of human beings as their masters, and a -famous Russian author could say without any exaggeration, -'The balcony was rotten. Only servants went there; the -family did not go there.' But, to avoid giving a wrong impression, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> -I must here make a reservation. Just because -there was no idea of the two classes overlapping, and because -so wide a gap existed between them that they dressed quite -differently (the peasants having their own costume and style -of garments) very cordial and sincere good feeling often grew -up between master and man, or between proprietress and -servant, and real human interest, such as is shown in Tolstoy's -descriptions of the servants in <i>Childhood</i>, and in his other -stories. It was, and is, not at all unusual for Russian -servants to intervene in the conversation of the family or -visitors; and the whole relation between employers and -employed was quite different to what it is in England, -where on Sundays the maid might be mistaken for her -mistress, except that she often looks more attractive than -the latter.</p> - -<p>The plan adopted in the Yásno-Polyána school, where -no child was obliged to learn anything it did not care to -learn, had to be abandoned in the family; but some scope -was allowed to the children to reject what they had no -capacity for, and they were never punished for neglecting -to prepare lessons, though they were rewarded when they -learnt well.</p> - -<p>To illustrate Tolstoy's way of developing the minds of -those about him, Behrs tells of his own case when, as a -youth, he stayed at Yásnaya:</p> - -<p class="i2">Regardless of my youth at the time, I remember that Tolstoy -discussed quite seriously with me all the scientific and philosophic -questions it came into my head to put to him. He -always answered simply and clearly, and never hesitated to -admit the fact if he himself did not understand this or that -matter. Often my talk with him took the form of a dispute, -on which I embarked in spite of my consciousness of his -immense superiority.</p> - -<p>The children were always eager to go for walks with their -father, to answer his call to practise Swedish gymnastics, and -to be on his side in any game he taught them. In winter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> -they skated a good deal; but clearing the snow off the -pond under his leadership was an even greater pleasure than -the skating itself.</p> - -<p>Before breakfast he would go for a walk with his brother-in-law, -or they would ride down to bathe in the river that -flows by one side of the estate. At morning coffee the -whole family assembled, and it was generally a very merry -meal, Tolstoy being up to all sorts of jokes, till he rose with -the words, 'One must get to work,' and went off to his study, -taking with him a tumbler full of tea. While at work in -his room not even his wife was allowed to disturb him; -though at one time his second child and eldest daughter, -Tatiána, while still quite a little girl, was privileged to -break this rule. The rare days (generally in summer) -when he relaxed, were very welcome to the children, for -their father's presence always brought life and animation -with it. Generally after dinner, before resuming work, -he would read a book not directly connected with the task -he had in hand. It was often an English novel; and -we hear of his reading Anthony Trollope with approval, -Mrs. Henry Wood, who, he says, made a great impression -on him, and Miss Braddon. His dislike of George Sand -remained unshaken, and he considered <i>Consuelo</i> to be a -mixture of the pretentious and the spurious. Goethe -(especially <i>Faust</i>) he admired; while Moličre's plays and -Hugo's <i>Les Misérables</i> appealed to him very strongly -indeed. In the evening he was fond of playing duets with -his sister. He used to find it hard to keep up with her in -playing long pieces with which he was not quite familiar, -and when in difficulties he would say something to make -her laugh, and cause her to play slower. If he did not -succeed by means of this ruse, he would sometimes stop and -solemnly take off one of his boots, as though that must -infallibly help him out of the difficulty; and he would then -recommence, with the remark, 'Now, it will go all right!'</p> - -<p>During the early years of his married life few visitors -came to Yásnaya, except the numerous members of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> -Tolstoy-Behrs families, who stayed there chiefly in summer. -The poet A. A. Fet, D. A. Dyákof, whom he had known -from boyhood and had described in <i>Youth</i>, N. N. Stráhof, -the philosopher and critic, for whose judgment he had -great respect and whom he frequently consulted throughout -his literary career, and Prince L. D. Ouroúsof, a cousin of -the Prince Ouroúsof he had known during the siege of -Sevastopol, seem to have been almost the only friends who -visited him in the years first following his marriage; and -this suited Tolstoy very well, for to entertain many visitors -would have seriously interrupted the absorbing work in -which he was continually engaged.</p> - -<p>Fet has so often been mentioned in this volume that it is -time to devote a few lines to describing a man who has -come in for much abuse on account of the anti-Emancipationist -sympathies expressed in some of his writings. Like -Tolstoy, he had grown up with no idea that it is incumbent -on men of education and capacity to organise the society of -which they are members, or by political action to remedy -such abuses as inevitably arise among human beings who -do not keep the task of systematic social organisation constantly -in view. Of the impression Fet's political opinions -made on the Liberals, one may judge by a remark Tourgénef -addressed to him in a letter written in 1874: 'Twenty years -ago, at the height of Nicholas I's <i>régime</i>, you dumbfounded -me by announcing your opinion that the mind of man -could devise nothing superior to the position of the Russian -aristocracy of that day, nor anything nobler or more -admirable.' The Liberals saw in Fet a political reactionary—and -so he was; but any one who reads his <i>Recollections</i> -may also see how large a measure of personal worth can be -combined with political indifferentism—a quality many -Russians of his generation were brought up to regard as a -virtue. In private life he was a really worthy man, and -Tolstoy once very truly remarked to him:</p> - -<p class="i2">There are some people whose talk is far above their actual -morality; but there are also some whose talk is below that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> -level. You are one who is so afraid of his sermon being above -his practice, that you intentionally talk far below your actual -practice.</p> - -<p>While still a young cavalry officer Fet began to write -poetry, for which he had real talent; and after leaving -the army he continued his literary career as an Art-for-Art's-sake-ist, -producing verse translations of Virgil, -Horace, Ovid, Juvenal, Catullus, Tibullus, Propertius, and -Persius, besides original works of his own in prose and -verse, and (after Tolstoy's suggestion, already recorded) -translations from the German of Schopenhauer's <i>The World -as Will and Idea</i>, and Goethe's <i>Faust</i>.</p> - -<p>In his dislike, or perhaps one should say ignorance, of -politics, commerce, and that great industrial revolution of -the Western world that has been the most conspicuous -achievement of the last one hundred and fifty years, as well -as in his love of pure art, chiefly literary, he had much in -common with Tolstoy. They could talk with profound -sympathy of all that related to art, and they were alike -in their love of country life and in their relation to agriculture, -as well as in the fact that the great problems of life -centred for them round their own personality rather than -around the community to which they belonged. Patriotic -by instinct, it was no part of their philosophy to be so; at -least they never dreamed of that newer patriotism which -seeks to manage the production and distribution of the -national wealth so that every member of the community -may have an opportunity to live in decent conditions. -They had therefore at this period much in common; and -one sees by Tolstoy's letters how greatly they enjoyed each -other's society, though a time was coming when their -friendship would wane.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy had a strong dislike of leaving home even for -a few days. When it was absolutely necessary for him to -go to Moscow he would grumble at his hard fate, and -Behrs, when he accompanied him, noticed how town life -depressed Tolstoy, making him fidgety and even irritable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> -When returning from a journey, or a hunting expedition, -he would express his anxiety by exclaiming, 'If only all's -well at home!' After he had been away from Yásnaya, -Tolstoy never failed to give the home party full and amusing -accounts of what he had seen and heard.</p> - -<p>A distinguishing feature of Tolstoy, already remarked -upon, but so strongly marked that it can hardly be insisted -on too much, was the ardent and whole-hearted way in which -he threw himself into whatever occupation he took up. On -this point Prince D. D. Obolénsky says: 'I have seen -Count L. N. Tolstoy in all phases of his creative activity.... -Whatever his occupation, he did it with conviction, -firmly believing in the value of what he was doing, and -always fully absorbed by it. I remember him as a man -of the world, and have met him at balls, and I remember -a remark he once made, "See what poetry there is in -women's ball-dresses, what elegance, how much thought, -how much charm even in the flowers pinned to the dresses!" -I remember him as an ardent sportsman, as a beekeeper, as -a gardener; I remember his enthusiasm for farming, for -tree planting, fruit culture, horse breeding, and much else.'</p> - -<p>A housekeeper who was with him for nine years, said of him:</p> - -<p class="i2">The Count himself looked after everything, and demanded -extreme cleanliness in the cowhouse and in the pig-styes and -in the sheep-cot. In particular he delighted in his pigs, of -which he had as many as 300, paired off in separate styes.... -There the Count would not allow the least dirt. Every day I -and my assistants had to wash them all, and wipe the floor and -walls of the styes; then the Count, on passing through the -piggery of a morning, would be very pleased, and would -remark aloud: 'What management!... What good management!' -But God have mercy on us if he noticed the least -dirt! That at once made him shout out angrily.... The -Count was very hasty, and a doctor who used to come to -Yásnaya said to him more than once in my presence: 'You -must not get so angry, Count, it is very bad for your -health....' 'I can't help it,' he would reply. 'I want to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> -restrain myself, but can't do it. That, it seems, is the way I -am made!'... His farming gave the Count a good revenue -in those days. Besides the pigs and their litters, he had 80 -cows, 500 good sheep, and very many fowls. We used to make -excellent butter, which we sold in Moscow at 60 copecks -[about 19 pence] a lb.</p> - -<p>His management of property was characteristically personal. -He never took shares in any joint-stock company, -but he bought land, bred cattle and horses of good quality, -planted a large apple-orchard, as well as a quantity of other -trees, and in general he acquired property he could manage -himself, or (for he entrusted the management of his Samára -estates to stewards) over which he had full control. He has -always been more alive to the dangers and evils of commercial -companies and large engineering and industrial -undertakings, than to the good they have achieved by -irrigating arid lands, uniting distant realms, and lightening -man's toil by making iron bear some of his burdens for him.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy furnishes an example of the well-known fact that -men of artistic temperament are often untidy. Though he -acknowledges the advantages of neatness in general, he often -remarked that it is a quality most frequently found in -shallow natures. He himself simply could not, and therefore -did not try to, keep his things in order. When he -undressed he let his clothes or boots drop where he stood; -and if he happened to be moving from place to place, his -garments remained strewn about the room, and sometimes -on the floor. Behrs remarks.</p> - -<p class="i2">I noticed that to pack his things for a journey cost him great -effort, and when I accompanied him I used very willingly to do -it for him, and thereby pleased him very much. I remember -that once, for some reason, I did not at all wish to pack for -him. He noticed this, and with characteristic delicacy did not -ask me to, but put his things into his portmanteau himself; and -I can assert positively that no one else, were they to try, could -have got them into such fearful disorder as they were in, in that -portmanteau.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> -It was a peculiarity of Tolstoy's that he not only liked to -have his own sleep out without being disturbed, but that he -never could or would wake any one from sleep, and in cases -of absolute necessity would ask some one else to relieve him -of that disagreeable task.</p> - -<p>Behrs recounts that when they sat up late, the man-servant -sometimes fell asleep in his chair and omitted to serve up -the cold supper. Tolstoy would never allow him to be disturbed -on these occasions, but would himself go to the -pantry to fetch the supper, and would do this stealthily, -and with the greatest caution, so that it became a kind of -amusing game. He would get quite cross with Behrs if the -latter accidentally let the plates clatter or made any other -noise.</p> - -<p>Many years later, alluding in my presence to this peculiarity -of his, Tolstoy remarked, 'While a man is asleep he -is at any rate not sinning.'</p> - - -<h3>1870</h3> - -<p>On 4th February 1870 Tolstoy wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I received your letter, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch, on 1st -February, but even had I received it somewhat sooner I could -not have come. You write, 'I am <i>alone, alone</i>!' And when I -read it I thought, What a lucky fellow—<i>alone</i>! I have a wife, -three children, and a fourth at the breast, two old aunts, a nurse, -and two housemaids. And they are all ill together: fever, high -temperature, weakness, headaches, and coughs. In that state -your letter found me. They are now beginning to get better, -but out of ten people, I and my old aunt alone turn up at the -dinner table. And since yesterday I myself am ill with my -chest and side. There is much, very much, I want to tell you -about. I have been reading a lot of Shakespear, Goethe, -Poúshkin, Gógol, and Moličre, and about all of them there -is much I want to say to you. I do not take in a single -magazine or newspaper this year, and I consider it very useful -not to.</p> - -<p>S. A. Behrs tells us that Tolstoy 'never read newspapers, -and considered them useless, and when they contain false -news, even harmful. In his humorous way he would some -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>times -parody a newspaper style when speaking of domestic -affairs.' His attitude towards journalists and critics (except -his friend Stráhof) was rather scornful, and he was indignant -when any one classed them even with third-rate authors. -He considered that it is a misuse of the printing-press to -publish so much that is unnecessary, uninteresting, and -worst of all, inartistic. He seldom read criticisms of his -own work. 'His feeling towards periodicals in general had -its source in his intense dislike of the exploitation of works -of art. He would smile contemptuously at hearing it suggested -that a real artist produces his works for the sake of -money.'</p> - -<p>Having said this much about his characteristics and -peculiarities, let us note the extent to which his life and -mode of thought at this time approximated to his later -teaching. His humane relations towards the peasants, his -condemnation of many of the manifestations of modern -civilisation, his simplicity in household matters and dress, -his exemplary family life, humane educational ideals, deep -love of sincerity and of industry (including physical labour), -his ardent search for truth and for self-improvement, his -gradually increasing accessibility to and regard for others, -his undoubted love of family and his hatred of violence—indicate -that the ideals of his later life were not very far -from him, even before the commencement of the conversion -told of in his <i>Confession</i>.</p> - -<p>On 17th February Tolstoy writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I hoped to visit you the night of the 14th, but could not do -so. As I wrote you, we were all ill,—I last. I went out -yesterday for the first time. What stopped me was pain in the -eyes, which is increased by wind and sleeplessness. I now, to -my great regret, have to postpone my visit to you till Lent. I -must go to Moscow to take my aunt to my sister's, and to see -an oculist about my eyes.</p> - -<p class="i2">It is a pity that one can only get to your place after passing -a sleepless, cigarette-smoky, stuffy, railway-carriage, conversational -night. You want to read me a story of cavalry life....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> -And I don't want to read you anything, because I am not -writing anything; but I very much want to talk about Shakespear -and Goethe and the drama in general. This whole winter -I am occupied only with the drama; and it happens to me, as -it usually happens to people who till they are forty have not -thought of a certain subject or formed any conception of it, -and then suddenly with forty-year-old clearness turn their -attention to this new untasted subject—it seems to them that -they discern in it much that is new. All winter I have enjoyed -myself lying down, drowsing, playing bézique, going on snowshoes, -skating, and most of all lying in bed (ill) while characters -from a drama or comedy have performed for me. And they -perform very well. It is about that I want to talk to you. In -that, as in everything, you are a classic, and understand the -essence of the matter very deeply. I should like also to read -Sophocles and Euripides.</p> - -<p>There we see Tolstoy, as always, ardently devoting his -attention to some great subject—which happens, this time, -to be dramatic art. So keen is he, that his mind is full -of it whatever else he may be doing; and so vivid is his -imagination that the characters of the plays perform -for him whether he is standing up or lying down. How -real a grip he obtained of the subject with very little -theatre-going, was shown seventeen years later, when he -wrote one of the most powerful dramas ever produced, -and followed it up by an excellent comedy: both pieces -being so good that they are constantly revived in -Russian theatres, besides having achieved success in other -countries.</p> - -<p>At the point we have reached there was no break in the -manner of Tolstoy's life. He continued to live quietly at -Yásnaya, and to concern himself chiefly with literature, -and also with the management of his estates and the welfare -of his family. Children continued to be born in rapid -succession, and with the increasing family his means also -increased. But we have come to the middle of that tranquil -period of sixteen years which succeeded his marriage, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> -here, while—as one would say of another man—he was -indefatigably studying the drama; or while—as one is -inclined to say of him—he was resting and recuperating -before undertaking his next great work, it is convenient to -close this chapter.</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER IX</h3> - -<p>Birukof.</p> - -<p>Fet.</p> - -<p>Behrs.</p> - -<p>Bitovt.</p> - -<p><i>Yasnaya Polyana</i>, P. A. Sergeyenko: <i>Niva</i>, No. 34, 1908.</p> - -<p><i>L. N. Tolstoy</i>; <i>Monografiya Andreevitcha</i>: Petersburg, 1905.</p> - -<p>For much information in this chapter as well as elsewhere I -am indebted to Tolstoy himself, to the Countess S. A. Tolstoy, to -his sister, and particularly to his daughter, Mary Lvovna, Princess -Obolensky.</p> - -<p>Information concerning the execution of the soldier is given in -<i>Pravo</i> for 1903.</p> - -<p>Prince D. D. Obolensky's <i>Vospominaniya</i> appeared in <i>Roussky -Arhiv</i>, 1896.</p> - -<p>See also, <i>Graf L. N. Tolstoy</i>, <i>Vospominaniya S. P. Arbouzova</i>: -Moscow, 1908.</p> - -<p>Arbouzof was in Tolstoy's service twenty-two years. He gives his -master an excellent character; and though very inaccurate, his naive -chatter is readable, and throws light on Tolstoy's character.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap10">CHAPTER X<br /> -NEARING THE CRISIS</h2> - -<p class="i2">Fet's poem. Franco-Prussian war. Studies Greek. Effect -on health. Railways. Koumýs cure in Samára. Mouhamet-Dzhan. -An expedition. 'Milk-loving Scythians.' Buys -estate. Molokáns. Tourgénef's interest. <i>ABC</i> Book. -House enlarged. On future life. Re-starts school. Preparation -of <i>ABC</i> Book. Astronomy. <i>A Prisoner in the -Caucasus.</i> <i>God Sees the Truth.</i> Ceremonial rites. Stráhof -and the <i>ABC</i> Book. Samára. Bull kills keeper. Teachers' -Congress at Yásnaya. A letter in verse. Peter the Great. -A suicide. <i>Anna Karénina.</i> Mouhamed Shah. Samára -famine. Kramskóy's portrait. Death of son, Peter. -Addresses Moscow Society of Literacy. A practical -demonstration. Test schools. <i>The Fatherland Journal: On -the Education of the People.</i> Mihaylóvsky. 'A University -in bark shoes.' Toúla Zémstvo Education Committee. -Tourgénef translates Tolstoy. Birth of a son. Death of -Aunt Tatiána. <i>ABC</i> Book approved. Wife's health. <i>Anna -Karénina.</i> Death of a son. Tourgénef on Tolstoy's writings. -Samára. Primitive agriculture. Fęte and horse races. -Bashkír life. Education of his children. Exercises and -playfulness. Croquet. 'Numidian cavalry.' Birth and -death of a daughter. Aunt P. I. Úshkof dies. Letters to -Fet. Nirvana and Sansara. <i>Anna Karénina.</i> 'Summer -condition.' Horse-breeding. Loss of Gouneba. Music. -P. I. Tschaikóvsky. At the Conservatoire. Folk-songs. -Beethoven. Tolstoy on art. Approach of war. Rupture -with Katkóf. The Evangelicals. An epitaph. Professor -Boutleróf. The Deity. Óptin Monastery. A folk-story -teller. Turkish prisoners. Son, Andrew, born. Ill-health. -<i>The Decembrists.</i> 'Martha is troubled.' Reconciliation with -Tourgénef. Samára. Tourgénef at Yásnaya. Their relations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> -still not cordial. Pilgrims. N. Tchaykóvsky. Mihaylóvsky's -forecast. V. I. Alexéyef.</p> - - -<h3>1870</h3> - -<p>As he grew older Tolstoy's love of outdoor exercise tended -more towards activity serving a useful productive -purpose, and one finds a hint of this in the following -letter to Fet, dated 11th May 1870:</p> - -<p class="i2">I received your letter, dear friend, when returning perspiring -home from work, with axe and spade, and when therefore -I was a thousand miles from things artistic in general, -and from our business in particular. On opening the letter -I first read the poem and felt a sensation in my nose. On -coming home to my wife I tried to read it to her, but could not -do so for tears of emotion. The poem is one of those rare ones -in which not a word could be added or subtracted or altered: -it is a live thing, and admirable....</p> - -<p class="i2">I have just served for a week as juryman, and found it very -interesting and instructive.</p> - -<p>The next letter refers to the fact that Tolstoy did his -best literary work in winter, when he often spent almost -the whole day, and sometimes part of the night, at it; that -was the time when his 'sap flowed':</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>2 Oct. 1870.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">It is long since we met, and in my winter condition, which -I am now entering, I am specially glad to see you. I have been -shooting; but the sap is beginning to flow, and I am collecting -it as it drips. Whether it be good or bad sap, it is pleasant to -let it flow in these long wonderful autumn evenings.... A -grief has befallen me; the mare is ill. The veterinary says her -wind has been broken, but I cannot have broken it.</p> - -<p>The Franco-Prussian war, which commenced at this time, -interested Tolstoy keenly. He had come into contact with -the French, in the Crimea, before the Napoleonic autocracy -had long held sway; and he had visited France in 1857 -and 1860, before the effect of that putrescent influence had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> -become fully apparent. Neither the idea of German national -unity, nor Bismarck's and Moltke's ideal of efficient organisation -and discipline, were things that much appealed to -Tolstoy. So it happened that not only were all his sympathies -on the side of the French, but he also felt assured -of their triumph. His friend Prince Ouroúsof used to -write letters to Katkóf's <i>Moscow Gazette</i> demonstrating -by analogies with games of chess, that the French were -continually drawing the German armies into more and -more desperate positions in which they must soon be quite -destroyed. When, on the contrary, the French were utterly -defeated, it came to him as a complete surprise; which all -tends to illustrate the fact that men of great intellectual -power, living isolated on their country estates, may at times -go very considerably wrong in their estimate of the trend -of some of the forces that influence the world.</p> - -<p>On 12 February 1871 a daughter was born, who was -christened Mary. In later life she, of all his children, was -the one most deeply influenced by her father's teaching. -The Countess, who, as already mentioned, made a point of -nursing her own children, owing to the neglect of an -attendant, became unable to do so in this instance before -the child was many weeks old, and a wet-nurse was engaged; -but as soon as the mother saw her child at a stranger's -breast she burst into a flood of jealous tears, dismissed the -nurse on the spot, and ordered the child to be fed with -a bottle. Tolstoy, when he heard what had happened, -declared that his wife had only shown the jealous affection -natural to a true mother.</p> - - -<h3>1870-71</h3> - -<p>During that winter Tolstoy devoted himself strenuously -to the study of Greek. On hearing of this, Fet felt so -sure that Tolstoy would not succeed, that he -announced his readiness to devote his own skin -for parchment for Tolstoy's diploma of proficiency when -the latter should have qualified himself to receive it. -Accordingly, in December, Tolstoy wrote him as follows:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> -I received your letter a week ago, but have not answered -because from morning to night I am learning Greek. I am -writing nothing, only learning; and to judge by information -reaching me through Borísof, your skin (to be used as parchment -for my diploma in Greek) is in some danger. Improbable -and astounding as it may seem, I have read Xenophon, and can -now read him at sight. For Homer, a dictionary and some -effort is still necessary. I eagerly await a chance of showing -this new trick to some one. But how glad I am that God sent -this folly upon me! In the first place I enjoy it; and secondly, -I have become convinced that of all that human language has -produced truly beautiful and simply beautiful, I knew nothing -(like all the others who know but do not understand); and -thirdly, because I have ceased to write, and never more will -write, wordy rubbish. I am guilty of having done so; but by -God I won't do it any more! Explain to me, for Heaven's -sake, why no one knows Esop's fables, or even delightful -Xenophon, not to mention Plato and Homer, whom I still have -before me? In so far as I can as yet judge, our translations, -made on German models, only spoil Homer. To use a banal -but involuntary comparison: they are like boiled and distilled -water, while he is like water fresh from the spring, striking the -teeth with its sun-lit sparkle: even its specks only making it -seem still clearer and fresher.... You may triumph: without -a knowledge of Greek, there is no education. But what kind -of knowledge? How is it to be got? What is the use of it? -To this I have replies clear as daylight.</p> - - -<h3>1871</h3> - -<p>S. A. Behrs tells us, 'I know for a fact that he learnt -the language and read Herodotus in three months.' While -in Moscow that winter, he visited Leóntief, then -Professor of Greek at the Katkóf Lyceum, to talk -about Greek literature. Leóntief did not wish to believe -in the possibility of his having learnt Greek so rapidly, -and proposed that they should read something at sight. -It happened that they differed as to the meaning of -three passages; but after a little discussion the Professor -admitted that the Count's interpretations were right.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy felt the charm of the literary art of the ancient -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> -world, and so keen was his power of entering into the minds -of those of whom he read, and so different to his own was -the Greek outlook upon life, that the contradiction produced -in him a feeling of melancholy and apathy profound -enough to affect his health.</p> - -<p>What clash of ideals it was that produced this result we -may guess when we consider how from his earliest years -he had been attracted by the Christian ideal of meekness, -humility, and self-sacrifice, and how little this accords -with the outlook on life of the ancient Greeks. In a book -written nearly forty years later, Tolstoy tells us that 'If, as -was the case among the Greeks, religion places the meaning -of life in earthly happiness, in beauty and in strength, then -art successfully transmitting the joy and energy of life, -would be considered good art' [good, that is, in its subject-matter -of feeling conveyed] but art transmitting the opposite -feelings would be bad art.<a name="FNanchor_51" id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> Again in the same work he -says that the esthetic theory he is combating, seeks to make -it appear 'that the very best that can be done by the art -of nations after 1900 years of Christian teaching, is to -choose as the ideal of life the ideal held by a small, semi-savage, -slave-holding people who lived 2000 years ago, -imitated the nude human body extremely well, and erected -buildings pleasant to look at.'<a name="FNanchor_52" id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a></p> - -<p>To wean him from his absorption in Greek literature, his -wife at first urged him to take up some fresh literary work; -and finally, becoming seriously alarmed for his health, induced -him to go eastward for a koumýs cure. He wrote to -Fet at this time:</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>10 June 1871.</i></p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>,—I have long not written to you, nor been to -see you, because I was, and still am, ill. I don't myself know -what is the matter with me, but it seems like something bad or -good, according to the name we give to our exit. Loss of -strength, and a feeling that one needs nothing and wants<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> -nothing but quiet, which one has not got. My wife is sending -me to Samára or Sarátof for two months for a koumýs cure. -I leave for Moscow to-day, and shall there learn where I am to -go to.</p> - -<p>In Moscow it was decided that he should go to the part -of Samára he had visited before.</p> - -<p>Railways have always been an affliction to Tolstoy. -Civilisation has forced them on him without his wish, and, -as he argued in his educational articles, to the detriment of -the peasant population. Personally, he complained of disagreeable -sensations he experienced when travelling by rail, -and compared these discomforts with the pleasure of riding -on horseback. He objected both to the officious politeness of -the conductors and to the way in which the passengers suspiciously -shun one another. (This latter complaint is not one -a Westerner would bring against Russians, for they appear -to us the most friendly and sociable of fellow-travellers.) -He used to insist on his wife always travelling first class. -He himself went either first or third, but seldom second. -To travel third is a more serious matter in Russia than in -England; and he used purposely to choose a car in which -there were peasants, and talked to all whom he met.</p> - -<p>On this outward journey he went third class, by rail to -Nízhni Nóvgorod and by steamer down the Vólga to the -town of Samára. On the boat he took the opportunity to -study the manners and customs of his fellow-passengers, -natives of the Vólga district, and displayed his remarkable -gift of making friends with people of all kinds. Before -he had been two days on the boat he was on the friendliest -terms with everybody, including the sailors, among whom -he slept each night in the fore part of the vessel. Even -when he met reserved or surly characters, it was not long -before he drew them out of their shells, and set them -chatting at their ease. One secret of this success was the -unaffected interest he took in learning about other people's -lives and affairs.</p> - -<p>From Samára Tolstoy went eastward for eighty miles on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> -horseback, following the banks of the river Karalýk till he -reached the village of that name. He had lived there -in 1862, and was welcomed as an old acquaintance and -friend by the Bashkírs, who always spoke of him as 'The -Count.' The reader will remember that at the University -Tolstoy had studied oriental languages. His knowledge of -Tartar no doubt increased his popularity with the Bashkírs. -He had with him a man-servant, and his brother-in-law, -Stepán Andréyevitch Behrs, then a lad of about sixteen, -who subsequently in his <i>Recollections</i> gave many particulars -about this outing. They lived, not in the 'winter -village' of Karalýk, but about one-and-a-half miles away, in -a <i>kotchévka</i> on the open steppe. A <i>kotchévka</i> is a conical -tent, made of a collapsible wooden frame covered with -large sheets of felt. It has a small painted door, and is -usually carpeted with soft feather grass. The one in which -Tolstoy's party lived, was a very large one which he hired -from the Mullah (priest). It had formerly been used as a -mosque, but had the practical disadvantage of not being -rain-proof. There were four <i>kotchévki</i> in the neighbourhood, -one of which was occupied by the Mullah.</p> - -<p>On first arriving at Karalýk, Tolstoy for some days felt -very depressed and unwell. He complained that he lacked -capacity to feel either mental or physical pleasure, and -looked at everything 'as though he were a corpse': a characteristic -usually most foreign to him, and which in other -people always evoked his dislike. It was, however, not long -before he recovered his spirits and energy.</p> - -<p>There were other visitors at Karalýk, who had also come -to benefit by a koumýs cure. They neither associated with -the Bashkír nomads, nor adopted their customs; but Tolstoy -was extremely fond of the Bashkírs, associated much with -them, and strictly followed their diet: avoiding all vegetable -foods and restricting himself to meat and animal products. -Dinner every day consisted chiefly of mutton eaten with -the fingers out of wooden bowls.</p> - -<p>Some of the Russian visitors lived in one of the <i>kotchévki</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> -but most of them lodged in the 'winter village.' Tolstoy -soon made friends with them all, and thanks to his genial -influence the whole place grew gay and lively. A professor of -Greek from a Seminary for the education of priests might be -seen trying a skipping-rope match with him; a procureur's -assistant discussed legal and other questions, and there was -a young Samára farmer who became his devoted follower.</p> - -<p>Among those who specially interested Tolstoy was -Mouhamet-Dzhan, the Bashkír Elder, whom the Russian -peasants called Michael Ivánovitch. This man was very -nimble and active, full of humour, fond of a joke, and a -very strong player at draughts.</p> - -<p>Accompanied by Behrs and two of their new acquaintances, -and taking a supply of guns and presents, Tolstoy -went for a four days' drive through the neighbouring villages. -The party had splendid duck-shooting by the lakes they -passed; and they were entertained and treated to koumýs -by the Bashkírs at the <i>kotchévkas</i> in which they rested. As -opportunity presented itself, they made suitable acknowledgment -for their entertainment by giving presents to -their hosts. One serious drawback to the hospitality they -enjoyed was the fact that their hosts insisted on feeding -them with mutton and fat with their own hands, without -the intermediacy of fork or spoon, and it was out of the -question to insult them by refusing such well-meant though -quite undesired attentions.</p> - -<p>On one occasion Tolstoy happened to admire a horse that -had separated from its herd, and remarked to Behrs, 'See -what a beautiful specimen of milking mare that is.' When, -an hour later, they were taking leave, their host tied this -animal to their conveyance, thus presenting it to his visitor. -Of course, on the return journey, Tolstoy had to make an -equivalent present in return.</p> - -<p>Another incident of this stay in the Government of -Samára, was a visit to the Petróvsky Fair, which is held once -a year at Bouzouloúk, a small town some fifty miles from -Karalýk. Here Russians, Bashkírs, Oural Cossacks, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> -Kirghiz mingled with one another; and Tolstoy was soon on -a friendly footing with them all. He would chat and laugh -with them even when they were drunk; but when one in -that condition took it into his head to embrace the Count, -Tolstoy's look was so stern and impressive that the fellow -drew back his hands and let them fall, saying, 'No, never -mind, it's all right!'</p> - -<p>The following letter of 18th July 1871, to Fet, relates to -Tolstoy's experience of the nomadic Bashkírs:</p> - -<p class="i2">Thank you for your letter, dear friend! It seems that my -wife gave a false alarm when she packed me off for a koumýs -cure and persuaded me that I was ill. At any rate now, after -four weeks, I seem to have quite recovered. And as is proper -when one is taking a koumýs cure, I am drunk and sweat from -morn to night, and find pleasure in it. It is very good here, -and were it not for family home-sickness, I should be quite -happy. Were I to begin describing, I should fill a hundred -pages with this country and my own occupations. I am reading -Herodotus, who describes in detail and with great accuracy -these same galactophagous [gluttonous-for-milk] Scythians -among whom I am living.</p> - -<p class="i2">I began this letter yesterday, and wrote that I was well. -To-day my side aches again. I do not myself know in how far -I am ill, but it is bad that I am obliged to think—and cannot -help thinking—about my side and my chest. This is the third -day that the heat has been terrible. In the <i>kibítka</i> [tent] it is as -hot as on the shelf of a Russian bath, but I like it. The country -here is beautiful—in its age just emerging from virginity, in its -richness, its health, and especially in its simplicity and its unperverted -population. Here as everywhere I am looking round -for an estate to buy. This affords me an occupation, and is the -best excuse for getting to know the real condition of the district.</p> - -<p>After a six weeks' stay Tolstoy returned to Yásnaya, -travelling first class on the return journey.</p> - -<p>His search for an estate had been successful, and after -persuading his wife that the investment was a sound one, -he purchased two thousand acres on his return to Moscow.</p> - -<p>The change of scene, or some other influence, weakened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> -Tolstoy's absorption in Greek literature; and a huge dictionary -he had taken with him, was used by his brother-in-law -to press a collection of local wildflowers.</p> - -<p>During his wanderings on the steppe, Tolstoy met many -Molokáns, members of a kind of Bible-Christian peasant -sect. They base their faith on the Bible, reject the Greek -Church with its traditions, priesthood, dogmas, ritual, -sacraments, and icons. The name Molokán, or Milk-Drinker, -probably arose from the fact that, not observing -the Russian fasts, these people do not scruple to drink milk -in Lent. They are said to be distinguished by an honesty -and industry not found among their Orthodox neighbours; -and they abstain from all intoxicants.</p> - -<p>It interested Tolstoy to mix with these people, and he -liked to discuss their beliefs, especially with a venerable -leader of theirs, named Aggéy. It so happened that in -the neighbouring village of Pátrovka there was a very -worthy young Russian priest, who was eager to convert the -Molokáns, and occasionally arranged debates with them -on religious subjects. Tolstoy sometimes attended these -debates: his object being not so much to convert the -Molokáns, as to understand the points on which they -differed from the Russo-Greek Church. He also took an -interest in the Mohammedan faith of his Bashkír friends, -and on his return to Yásnaya read through a French translation -of the Koran.</p> - -<p>A few years later Tolstoy associated much with the -representatives of various sects and faiths, being then -profoundly interested in their beliefs; but at this time, -his interest in such matters was only beginning to make -itself felt.</p> - -<p>A letter of Tourgénef's written at this period, indicates -how little he allowed his quarrel with Tolstoy the man, to -warp his appreciation of Tolstoy the artist. Writing to -Fet on 2nd July 1871, he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">Your letter again grieves me—I refer to what you write -about L. Tolstoy. I have great fears on his account, for two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> -of his brothers died of consumption, and I am very glad he is -taking a koumýs cure, in the reality and efficacy of which I -have faith. L. Tolstoy is the only hope of our orphaned literature; -he cannot and must not vanish from the face of the earth -as prematurely as his predecessors: Poúshkin, Lérmontof and -Gógol.</p> - -<p>Again in November, writing from Paris, he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">I am very glad that Tolstoy's health is now satisfactory and -that he is at work. Whatever he does will be good, if only he -does not himself mutilate his own handiwork. Philosophy, -which he hates, has revenged herself on him in a strange way: -she has infected him, and the enemy of rationalising has -plunged head over ears into rationalisation! But perhaps all -<i>that</i> has fallen away from him by now, and left only the pure -and powerful artist.</p> - -<p>On returning home from Samára improved in health, -Tolstoy turned his thoughts once more to matters educational: -especially to the crying want of good primers for -those beginning to read. We have seen how strongly, in -1862, he had felt the need of well-written books simple -enough for beginners and peasant readers, and how he -resented the monopolisation of knowledge by the cultured -classes entrenched behind barriers of pedantry. We have -seen, too, how under the influence of Homer he swore he -would no more write 'wordy rubbish'; and the time had -now come for this feeling to bear fruit. The task to which -he devoted his powers at their zenith, was the production -of an <i>ABC</i> Book for beginners, which was to be as -simple, sincere and perfect in form and in subject-matter -as possible.</p> - -<p>We know from the writings of the American Consul, Mr. -Eugene Schuyler, who visited Tolstoy in 1868, and at his -request obtained for him a collection of American school -primers, that Tolstoy was even then meditating a work of -the kind to which he now devoted himself ardently for -a whole year. By September he was hard at work, the -Countess as usual acting as his amanuensis.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> -Of her we hear that in an impulsive, kind-hearted way, she -often rendered assistance to the poor, not merely among the -Yásnaya Polyána peasants, but to others from a distance as -well; and that the neighbouring peasants thought well of -her.</p> - -<p>The increase in the Tolstoy family was met this year by -a considerable enlargement of their domicile. By way of a -house-warming to celebrate the completion of the building, -a masquerade was arranged at Christmas, at which Tolstoy -evoked great enthusiasm by appearing as a goat.</p> - -<p>About this time, at the age of sixteen, Behrs and a school -friend of his became sorely troubled as to the state of their -souls, and thought of entering a monastery. This is what -he tells us of Tolstoy's relation to the matter:</p> - -<p class="i2">His attitude towards my inclination was a most cautious one. -I often went to him with my doubts and questions, but he -always managed to avoid expressing his opinion, knowing how -very great an influence it would have with me. He left it to -me to work out my own convictions. Once, however, he spoke -out with sufficient plainness. We were riding past the village -church where his parents lie buried. Two horses were grazing -in the churchyard. We had been talking over the only subject -that then interested me.</p> - -<p class="i2">'How can a man live in peace,' I asked, 'so long as he has -not solved the question of a future life?'</p> - -<p class="i2">'You see those two horses grazing there,' he answered; 'are -they not laying up for a future life?'</p> - -<p class="i2">'But I am speaking of our spiritual, not our earthly life.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Indeed? Well, about that, I neither know nor can know -anything.'</p> - - -<h3>1872</h3> - -<p>Immediately after New Year he re-started his school; and -the children (who often numbered thirty to thirty-five) met, -not as formerly in another building, but in the hall -of the Tolstoys' enlarged house. In the mornings the -Countess taught her own children, and in the afternoon she, -her husband, and even seven-year-old Tánya and eight-year-old -Sergius, taught the peasant children, who came only -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> -then, but yet made satisfactory progress, being stimulated -by the personal interest the Tolstoys took in them, by the -pedagogic genius of the Count, and by a perception that -education is a rare and valuable luxury, which seldom comes -within the reach of Russian peasants.</p> - -<p>In the <i>ABC</i> Book Tolstoy gives several autobiographical -stories of how he learned to ride, and of his dogs Milton -and Boúlka. Easy as these are, they are admirably written, -and combine brevity and simplicity with sincerity; though -their sincerity lies not in telling the facts just as they -occurred, but in the truth of the feeling conveyed to the -reader. Besides these and other stories, popular historical -sketches, and a number of translations and adaptations -from <i>Esop's Fables</i> and from Indian, Hebrew and Arabic -sources, the work contains some popular ballads or folk-stories -in verse. To get these poems as perfect as possible, -he studied and collated all the versions of them he could -collect.</p> - -<p>The section on Arithmetic gave him an immense amount -of work, for he would not content himself with the usual -explanations of the various operations, but devised explanations -of his own.</p> - -<p>The book contains some elementary natural science, and -for the preparation of this, Tolstoy, besides examining all -sorts of text-books, consulted specialists on the various -subjects, and himself carefully performed most of the -experiments he described.</p> - -<p>To select the readings in the Church-Slavonic language, -he perused the monkish chronicles and the Lives of the -Saints.</p> - -<p>Intending to include some readings on astronomy, he -took up that study himself, and became so interested in it -that he sometimes sat up all night examining the stars.</p> - -<p>When the news spread that Tolstoy was writing stories -for his <i>ABC</i> Book, the magazine editors besieged him with -demands, and the first bits of the book to see the light were -<i>A Prisoner in the Caucasus</i>, which appeared in one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> -monthlies in February, and <i>God Sees the Truth</i>, which came -out in another monthly in March.</p> - -<p>Owing to some mismanagement, Tolstoy received nothing -for the periodical rights of either of these stories, which in -<i>What is Art?</i> he names as the best of all his works. They -(as well as <i>The Bear Hunt</i>, also from the <i>ABC</i> Book) are -given in English in <i>Twenty-three Tales</i>, previously referred -to. In rendering them, I did my best to retain the brief -simplicity of the originals; but where Russian customs were -alluded to, some of that simplicity was inevitably lost.</p> - -<p>With what pleasure Tolstoy looks back to this part of his -life's work, was indicated by a remark he made to me in 1902. -Speaking of the popularity of <i>A Prisoner in the Caucasus</i> -for public readings to the peasants, he added with evident -satisfaction, that when <i>A Prisoner in the Caucasus</i> is now -mentioned, it is always taken for granted that it is his little -story, and not Poúshkin's famous poem of the same name, -that is referred to.</p> - -<p>Since their first appearance, these two stories have sold -by hundreds of thousands in separate editions at three to -ten copecks (about a penny or twopence) each, besides -appearing in the <i>Readers</i> and among Tolstoy's collected -works.</p> - -<p>In the following letter to Fet we get a vivid glimpse of -the thoughts on life's deepest problems, which were before -long to fill Tolstoy's mind completely.</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>30 Jan. 1872.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">It is some days since I received your kind but sad letter, and -not till to-day do I settle down to answer it.</p> - -<p class="i2">It is a sad letter, for you write that Tútchef is dying, and -that there is a rumour that Tourgénef is dead; and about yourself -you say the machine is wearing out and you want quietly -to think of Nirvana. Please let me know quickly whether this -is a false alarm. I hope it is, and that, in the absence of Márya -Petróvna, you have taken slight symptoms for a return of your -terrible illness.</p> - -<p class="i2">In Nirvana there is nothing to laugh at; still less is there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> -cause for anger. We all (I, at least) feel that it is much more -interesting than life; but I agree that however much I may -think about it, I can think of nothing else than that Nirvana is -nothingness. I only stand up for one thing: religious reverence—awe -of that Nirvana.</p> - -<p class="i2">There is, at any rate, nothing more important than it.</p> - -<p class="i2">What do I mean by religious reverence? I mean this: I -lately went to see my brother, and a child of his had died and -was being buried. The priests were there, and a small pink -coffin, and everything as it should be. My brother and I involuntarily -confessed to one another that we felt something -like repulsion towards ceremonial rites. But afterwards I -thought, 'Well, but what should my brother do to remove the -putrefying body of the child from the house? How is one to -finish the matter decently?' There is no better way (at least, I -could devise none) than to do it with a requiem and incense. -How is it to be when we grow weak and die? Is nature to -take her course, are we to ... and nothing else? That would -not be well. One wishes fully to express the gravity and importance, -the solemnity and religious awe of that occurrence, -the most important in every man's life. And I also can devise -nothing more seemly for people of all ages and all degrees of -development, than a religious observance. For me at least -those Slavonic words evoke quite the same metaphysical ecstasy -as one experiences when one thinks of Nirvana. Religion is -wonderful, in that she has for so many ages rendered to so -many millions of people these same services—the greatest anything -human can render in this matter. With such a task, how -can she be logical? Yes—there is something in her. Only to -you do I allow myself to write such letters; but I wished to -write, and I feel sad, especially after your letter. -Please write soon about your health.—Your</p> - -<p class="rightm smcap">Leo Tolstoy.</p> - -<p class="i2">I am terribly dispirited. The work I have begun is fearfully -hard, there is no end to the preparatory study necessary. The -plan of the work is ever increasing, and my strength, I feel, -grows less and less. One day I am well, and three days I -am ill.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> -The work here referred to as 'fearfully hard' was a study -of the reign of Peter the Great, in preparation for a novel -treating of that period.</p> - -<p>On 20th February he again wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I may not correspond with my friends for years at a time, -but when my friend is in trouble, it is terribly shameful and -painful not to know of it.... Now, being in Moscow, I -wished to call on the Bótkins to hear about you, but I fell ill -myself, took to my bed, and it was all I could do to get home. -Now I am better. At home all is well; but you will not -recognise our house: we have been using the new extension -all winter. Another novelty is that I have again started a -school. My wife and children and I all teach and are all -contented. I have finished my <i>ABC</i> Book and am printing -it....</p> - -<p>The next letter shows that his hope that he had finished -the <i>ABC</i> Book was premature:</p> - -<p class="p2 rightm"><i>16 March 1872.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">How I wish to see you; but I cannot come, I am still ill.... -My <i>ABC</i> Book gives me no peace for any other occupation. -The printing advances on the feet of a tortoise, and the -deuce knows when it will be finished, and I am still adding and -omitting and altering. What will come of it I know not; -but I have put my whole soul into it.</p> - -<p>In May 1872 the Countess gave birth to another boy, -who was christened Peter.</p> - -<p>The Moscow firm who were printing the book for Tolstoy -were not able to give him satisfaction. Not only was the -printing a matter of difficulty owing to the variety of type -required for a school-book of this kind, but Tolstoy, in -accord with his invariable practice, revised the work time -after time while it was going through the press. At last, in -May, he wrote to his trusty friend and admirer, N. Stráhof, -saying that after four months' labour the printing was -'not only not finished, but had not even begun,' and begging -Stráhof to have the book printed in Petersburg, and to take -on himself for ample payment the whole task of revising the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> -proofs. After some correspondence matters were arranged, -though Stráhof declined to accept any payment for the help -he rendered.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy explained to his friend that he wanted to make a -profit on the book if possible. As a rule, all Tolstoy's later -teaching seems to grow out of his experience of life; but -it would be hard for any one to work more conscientiously -than Tolstoy laboured over this book, and yet in later life -he speaks as though any admixture of mercenary motives is -sure to be fatal to good literary work. We here seem, therefore, -to come upon an exception to that rule.</p> - -<p>Stráhof's assistance enabled Tolstoy (though he continued -to give most careful instructions with regard to the treatment -of the various sections of the book) to get a much -needed change; and after having as usual worked during -the winter and spring up to the very limit of his strength, -he went for a short visit to his Samára estate, where -he arranged about building, and about breaking up the -virgin soil. A peasant from Yásnaya village was appointed -steward of the new estate, and was instructed to see to the -building of the house there. Being far away from home -Tolstoy was anxious about his <i>ABC</i> Book; so he cut -short his stay, and returned to Yásnaya before the end of -July. There he learned that a fine young bull of his had -gored its keeper to death. The unpleasantness of such an -occurrence and of the legal investigation consequent on the -man's death, was greatly increased by the fact that the -Investigating Magistrate, an incompetent and arrogant young -official, wrongly held Tolstoy responsible for 'careless holding -of cattle,' and, besides commencing criminal proceedings -against him, obliged him to give a written undertaking -not to leave Yásnaya. Prince D. D. Obolénsky tells how -Tolstoy arrived one day at a meet at the Prince's estate of -Schahovskóy (some thirty miles from Yásnaya) late and -much upset, and told of an examination he had that morning -undergone at the hands of the Investigating Magistrate, -whose duties included those of Coroner. 'Being an excit -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span>able -man,' says Obolénsky, 'Tolstoy was extremely indignant -at the Magistrate's conduct, and told how the latter had kept -a Yásno-Polyána peasant in prison for a year-and-a-half on -suspicion of having stolen a cow, which then turned out to -have been stolen by some one else. "He will confine me -for a year," added Tolstoy. "It is absurd, and shows how -utterly arbitrary these gentlemen are. I shall sell all I -have in Russia and go to England, where every man's -person is respected. Here every police-officer, if one does -not grovel at his feet, can play one the dirtiest tricks!"'</p> - -<p>P. F. Samárin, who had also come to the hunt, opposed -Tolstoy with animation, arguing that the death or even -the mutilation of a man, was so serious a matter that it -could not be left without judicial investigation. After long -argument Samárin more or less convinced Tolstoy, and the -latter before retiring to rest remarked to Obolénsky, 'What -a wonderful power of calming people Samárin has!'</p> - -<p>The judicial proceedings dragged on for more than a -month, and it was not till late in September that Tolstoy -was again free to take a journey to Moscow. The proceedings, -first against him and then against his steward, -were abandoned; but not before the newspapers had taken -the matter up and made a fuss about it.</p> - -<p>At last, in November, the <i>ABC</i> Book was published. It -sold slowly, and was attacked by some of the papers. Tolstoy -however was not discouraged, but held to his belief that -(as he expressed it to Stráhof) he had 'erected a monument'—a -conviction amply justified by the ultimate success of the -work. He had indeed produced a reading-book far superior -to anything that had previously existed in Russia, and that -is probably unmatched in any language. With certain -modifications to be mentioned later on, it continues to -circulate throughout Russia to the present day.</p> - -<p>In connection with his other efforts to popularise his -system of instruction, Tolstoy, in October 1872, invited -a dozen teachers from neighbouring schools to visit him for -a week at Yásnaya. They were accommodated in his second -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> -house (called, as is customary in Russian when speaking -of a subsidiary residence, 'the wing'); and a number of -illiterate boys were collected from villages within reach, -to be taught on Tolstoy's lines. He also formed a project -of establishing a 'University in bark shoes' [the country -peasants wear bark shoes] or in other words, a training college -in which peasants could become teachers without ceasing -to be peasants. This plan occupied his attention, off -and on, for some years; but (owing to causes which will be -related later) never came to fruition.</p> - -<p>In December Tourgénef writes from Paris, to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I got a copy of L. Tolstoy's ABC, but except the beautiful -story, <i>A Prisoner in the Caucasus</i>, I did not find anything interesting -in it. And the price is absurdly dear for a work of -that kind.</p> - -<p>The price of the first edition of 3000 copies of the <i>ABC</i> -was Rs. 2 (about 5s. 6d.). Tourgénef probably had no idea -of the immense labour, or of the typographical difficulties, -involved in its production. The subsequent editions were -much cheaper.</p> - -<p>About this time Fet sent Tolstoy a letter in rhyme, to -which the latter replied as follows:</p> - -<p class="p2 rightm"><i>12 November 1872.</i></p> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">The causeless shame felt by the onion</div> -<div class="line i2">Before the sweetly-scented rose,</div> -<div class="line">My dearest Fet, I should be feeling,</div> -<div class="line i2">Were I to answer you in prose.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">And yet in maiden verse replying,</div> -<div class="line i2">By sad misgivings I'm beset:</div> -<div class="line">The when and where, yourself please settle—</div> -<div class="line i2">But come and visit us, dear Fet.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Tho' drought may parch the rye and barley.</div> -<div class="line i2">Yet still I shall not feel upset</div> -<div class="line">If I but spend a day enjoying</div> -<div class="line i2">Your conversation, dearest Fet!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span>Too apt we often are to worry;</div> -<div class="line i2">O'er future ills let us not fret:</div> -<div class="line">Sufficient for the day, its evil—</div> -<div class="line i2">It's best to think so, dearest Fet!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="i2">Joking apart, write quickly and let me know when to send -horses to the station to meet you. I want to see you terribly.</p> - -<p class="p2">Having at last got his <i>ABC</i> off his hands, Tolstoy resumed -his preliminary labours for a large novel, which was -to deal with the period of Peter the Great. On 19th November -1872 the Countess wrote to her brother:</p> - -<p class="i2">Our life just now is very, very serious. All day we are -occupied. Leo sits surrounded by a pile of portraits, pictures -and books, engrossed in reading, marking passages and taking -notes. In the evening, when the children have gone to bed, -he tells me his plans, and what he means to write. At times -he is quite discouraged, falls into despair, and thinks nothing -will ever come of it. At other times he is on the point of -setting ardently to work; but as yet I cannot say he has actually -written anything, he is still preparing.</p> - -<p>A month later she wrote:</p> - -<p class="i2">As usual we are all of us very busy. The winter is the working -time for us proprietors, just as much as summer is for the -peasants. Leo is still reading historical books of the time of -Peter the Great, and is much interested in them. He notes -down the characters of various people, their traits, as well as the -way of life of the boyars and the peasants, and Peter's activity. -He does not yet know what will come of it all, but it seems -to me we shall have another prose poem like <i>War and Peace</i>; -but of the time of Peter the Great.</p> - - -<h3>1873</h3> - -<p>A few months later he definitely abandoned the project. -His opinion of Peter the Great ran directly counter to -the popular one, and he felt out of sympathy with the whole -epoch. He declared there was nothing great about -the personality or activity of Peter, whose qualities -were all bad. His so-called reforms, far from aiming at the -welfare of the people, aimed simply at his own personal -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> -advantage. He founded Petersburg because the boyars, -who were influential and consequently dangerous to him, -disapproved of the changes he made, and because he wished -to be free to follow an immoral mode of life. The changes -and reforms he introduced were borrowed from Saxony, -where the laws were most cruel, and the morals most -dissolute—all of which particularly pleased him. This, -Tolstoy holds, explains Peter's friendship with the Elector -of Saxony, who was among the most immoral of rulers. -He also considers that Peter's intimacy with the pieman -Ménshikof and with the Swiss deserter Lefort, is explained -by the contempt in which Peter was held by -all the boyars, among whom he could not find men willing -to share his dissolute life. Most of all, Tolstoy was -revolted by the murder of Peter's son Alexis, in which -crime Tolstoy's own ancestor had played a very prominent -part.</p> - -<p>Almost simultaneously with the abandonment of the project -to which he had devoted so much time and attention, -Tolstoy, without any special preparation, began to write his -second great novel, <i>Anna Karénina</i>.</p> - -<p>The year before, a lady named Anna who lived with -Bíbikof, a neighbouring squire mentioned on a previous -page, had committed suicide by throwing herself under -a train, out of jealousy of Bíbikof's attentions to their -governess. Tolstoy knew all the details of the affair, and -had been present at the post-mortem. This supplied him -with a theme; but it was not till March 1873, and then as -it were by accident, that he actually began to write the -book. One day a volume of Poúshkin happened to be lying -open at the commencement of <i>A Fragment</i>, which begins -with the words, 'The guests had arrived at the country -house.' Tolstoy, noticing this, remarked to those present -that these words, plunging at once into the midst of things, -are a model of how a story should begin. Some one then -laughingly suggested that he should begin a novel in that -way; and Tolstoy at once started on <i>Anna Karénina</i>, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> -second sentence, and first narrative sentence, of which is, -'All was in confusion in the Oblónskys' house.'</p> - -<p>In May Tolstoy and his whole family went for a three -months' visit to Samára, where he had recently purchased -some more land.</p> - -<p>This summer he hired a Bashkír named Mouhamed Shah, -who owned and brought with him a herd of milking mares. -This Mouhamed Shah, or Románovitch as he was called in -Russian, was polite, punctual, and dignified. He had a -workman to drive the herd, and a wife (who retired behind -a curtain in his <i>kotchévka</i> when visitors came to see him) to -wait upon him. In subsequent years this worthy man -repeatedly resumed his engagement with the Tolstoys.</p> - -<p>This was the first year the whole estate had been ploughed -up and sown. It was fortunate for the district that some -one who had the ear of the public, happened to be there; -for the crops in the whole neighbourhood failed utterly, and -a famine ensued. So out-of-the-world were the people and -so cut off from civilisation, that they might have suffered -and died without the rest of Russia hearing anything about -it, had not Tolstoy been at hand to make their plight known -in good time by an appeal for help, which the Countess -prompted him to draw up, and which appeared on 17th -August, in Katkóf's paper, the <i>Moscow Gazette</i>.</p> - -<p>In this article on the Samára Famine, Tolstoy describes -how the complete failure of the harvest, following as it did -on two previous poor harvests, had brought nearly nine-tenths -of the population to destitution and hunger.</p> - -<p>To ascertain the real state of things Tolstoy took an -inventory at every tenth house in the village of Gavrílovka—the -one nearest his estate; and of the twenty-three -families so examined, all but one were found to be in -debt, and none of them knew how they were to get -through the winter. Most of the men had left home to -look for work, but the harvest being bad everywhere, and -so many people being in search of work, the price of labour -had fallen to one-eighth of what it had previously been.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> -Tolstoy visited several villages and found a similar -state of things everywhere. Together with his article, -he sent Rs. 100 (then equal to about Ł14) as a first subscription -to a Famine Fund. This was only a small part -of what he spent in relief of the impoverished peasants, -for when Prougávin (well known for his valuable descriptions -of Russian sects) visited the district in 1881, many -of the inhabitants spoke to him of Tolstoy's personal -kindness to the afflicted, and of his gifts of corn and money -during the famine.</p> - -<p>The subscription proved a success. Tolstoy's aunt, the -Countess A. A. Tolstoy (who had charge of the education of -Marie Alexándrovna, subsequently Duchess of Edinburgh), -mentioned the matter to the Empress, who was one of the first -to contribute. Her example was largely followed, and altogether, -in money and in kind, something like Rs. 2,000,000, -or about Ł270,000, was contributed during 1873-4. Within -a year or two, good harvests again completely changed the -whole appearance of the district.</p> - -<p>This was the first, but neither the last nor the worst, of -the famines in which Tolstoy rendered help.</p> - -<p>Before the end of August 1873 he was back at Yásnaya, -and wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">On the 22nd we arrived safely from Samára.... In spite of -the drought, the losses and the inconvenience, we all, even my -wife, are satisfied with our visit, and yet more satisfied to be -back in the old frame of our life; and we are now taking up -our respective labours....</p> - -<p>A month later he writes again, referring to Kramskóy's -portrait of himself, a photogravure of which forms the -frontispiece of this volume, and shows the blouse which even -in those days, before his Conversion, he wore when at home, -instead of a tailor-made coat:</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>25 September 1873.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">I am beginning to write.... The children are learning; my -wife is busy and teaches. Every day for a week Kramskóy has -been painting my portrait for Tretyakóf's Gallery, and I sit and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> -chat with him, and try to convert him from the Petersburg -faith to the faith of the baptized. I agreed to this, because -Kramskóy came personally, and offered to paint a second -portrait for us very cheaply, and because my wife persuaded -me.</p> - -<p>Up to this time Tolstoy, sensitive about his personal -appearance, and instinctively disliking any personal advertisement, -had always had an objection to having his portrait -painted; and if he ever allowed himself to be photographed, -was careful to have the negative destroyed that copies might -not be multiplied. This prejudice he abandoned in later -life; and after Kramskóy had broken the ice, portraits and -photographs of Tolstoy became more and more common.</p> - -<p>Kramskóy's acquaintance with the Tolstoys came about -in this way. He was commissioned to paint a portrait of -the great novelist, for the collection of famous Russians in -Tretyakóf's picture gallery in Moscow; but sought in vain -in that town for his photograph, and was too modest to ask -Tolstoy (who, he knew, was living a secluded life at Yásnaya) -to give him sittings. He therefore hired a <i>dátcha</i>, -some three miles from Yásnaya, with the intention of -painting Tolstoy, who often rode past on horseback. His -intention, however, became known, and the Tolstoys at -once sent him a friendly invitation to visit them. Of the -two very similar portraits of Tolstoy which Kramskóy -painted, one has remained at Yásnaya.</p> - -<p>Before Tolstoy's next letter to Fet, the angel of death -had crossed the threshold of his house for the first time in -his married life. On 11th November he wrote:</p> - -<p class="i2">We are in trouble: Peter, our youngest, fell ill with croup -and died in two days. It is the first death in our family in -eleven years, and my wife feels it very deeply. One may -console oneself by saying that if one had to choose one of our -eight, this loss is lighter than any other would have been; but -the heart, especially the mother's heart—that wonderful and -highest manifestation of Divinity on earth—does not reason, -and my wife grieves.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>1874</h3> - -<p>During the whole of 1874 Tolstoy made strenuous efforts -to get his system of education more generally adopted. On -15th January, overcoming his dislike of speaking in -public, he addressed the Moscow Society of Literacy -on the subject of the best way to teach children to read. -The details of his argument need not here detain us, as it -will fall to the lot of few of my readers to teach Russian -children to read Russian; but briefly, the German <i>Lautiermethode</i> -had been adopted by Russian pedagogues in a -way that Tolstoy considered arbitrary and pedantic, and his -appeal, which in the main has not carried conviction to the -educationalists, was against that method.</p> - -<p>The large hall in which the meeting took place was -crowded. The President of the Society, Mr. Shatílof, -invited Tolstoy to open the debate, but Tolstoy preferred -to reply to what questions and remarks the other speakers -might put. In the course of the animated proceedings, -in which several men well known in the Russian educational -world took part, the discussion widened out till it -covered the question of the whole direction of elementary -education; and Tolstoy, from the standpoint of his belief -that it is harmful to force upon the people a culture they -do not demand and are not prepared for—and much of -which, though considered by us to be science, may yet turn -out to be no better than the alchemy and astrology of the -Middle Ages—denounced the education forced upon the -children in elementary schools, and declared that this should -be confined in the first place to teaching the Russian language -and arithmetic, leaving natural science and history -alone. To prove the advantage of his way of teaching -reading, Tolstoy offered to give a practical demonstration -in one of the schools attached to some of the Moscow mills. -Accordingly it was arranged that this should take place -the next day and the day after, at the mills owned by Mr. -Ganéshin, on the Devítche Pólye just outside Moscow. On -the morrow Tolstoy was unwell, and did not appear; but he -gave his demonstration on the evening of the following day,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> -with the result that, on the suggestion of Mr. Shatílof, the -Society of Literacy decided to start two temporary schools -for the express purpose of testing the rival methods during -a period of seven weeks. The one school was taught by -Mr. M. E. Protopópof, an expert in the <i>Lautiermethode</i>, -while in the other school Tolstoy's method was taught by -Mr. P. V. Morózof. After seven weeks the children were -examined by a Committee, which had to report to the -Society at a meeting held on 13th April. The members of -the Committee however could not agree, and handed in -separate and contradictory reports. At the meeting of the -Society there was again a great divergence of opinion; and -Tolstoy, who considered that the test had not been made -under proper conditions (most of the pupils being too young, -and the continual presence of visitors preventing the teacher -from holding the children's attention), but that nevertheless -his method had shown its superiority, decided to appeal to -a wider public, and did so in the form of a letter addressed -to Mr. Shatílof.</p> - -<p>A full account of what happened from the time the -dispute passed into the press, has been given by that powerful -and popular critic and essayest, N. K. Mihaylóvsky, -who was at this time a colleague of Nekrásof. In 1866 the -<i>Contemporary</i> had been prohibited, as a punishment for its -too Liberal tendencies. In 1868 Nekrásof and Saltykóf -(Stchedrín) had taken over the management of the <i>Fatherland -Journal</i>. Tolstoy, who had long dropped out of touch -with Nekrásof, now addressed to him a request that the -<i>Fatherland Journal</i> should take a hand in his fight with the -pedagogic specialists, and should interest a wider public in -his educational reforms. As an inducement, he held out a -prospect (never fulfilled) that he would contribute some of -his works of fiction to their magazine. The outcome of his -correspondence with Nekrásof was, that though the whole -question of elementary education was somewhat foreign to -a literary magazine such as the <i>Fatherland Journal</i>, a long -article by Tolstoy (his letter to Shatílof) appeared in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> -September number, under the title of <i>On the Education of -the People</i>.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's educational articles in 1862, when he issued -them in his own magazine, had fallen quite flat and -attracted no attention, but this article, by the author of -<i>War and Peace</i>, in a leading Petersburg magazine, though -expressing very similar views, received very much attention, -and was criticised, favourably or adversely, in a large number -of other publications. Though his views were only adopted -to a small extent, yet the severe shock which he administered -to the professional pedagogues who looked on school-children -as 'a flock existing for the sake of its shepherds,' had -a most healthy influence, and that it did not pass without -some immediate practical effect is indicated by the rejection -from the Moscow Teachers' Seminary of one of the text-books -Tolstoy attacked most fiercely.</p> - -<p>Following on the storm raised in the press by Tolstoy's -article, Mihaylóvsky, in the <i>Fatherland Journal</i> for January -1875, published a long article entitled <i>An Outsider's Notes</i>, -in which he took Tolstoy's part against the pedagogues, -and said: 'Though I am one of the profane in philosophy -and pedagogics, and am writing simply a <i>feuilleton</i>, I nevertheless -advise my readers to peruse this <i>feuilleton</i> with great -attention, not for my sake, but for Tolstoy's, and for the -sake of those fine shades of thought on which I do but -comment.'</p> - -<p>Before this, however, Tolstoy had made another attempt -to improve the state of elementary education, by promoting -the establishment of that 'University in bark shoes' to -which I have already alluded.</p> - -<p>He had found some of the boys in the Yásno-Polyána -school anxious to continue their studies after finishing the -school course; and an experiment in teaching these lads -algebra had been highly successful.</p> - -<p>In his last article on Education, Tolstoy had pointed out -that a great obstacle to the spread of efficient elementary -instruction lay in the fact that the peasants could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> -afford the salaries (extremely modest as these sound to -Western ears) demanded by Russian teachers of the non-peasant -classes. It was therefore quite natural that he -should now devise a scheme for preparing teachers from -among the peasants themselves; and he drew up a project -for a training college to be established at Yásnaya, under -his own direction and control.</p> - -<p>In the summer of this year Tolstoy paid a brief visit to -his Samára estate to look after its management; and he -took his son Sergius with him.</p> - -<p>On 20th November 1874 the Countess wrote to her -brother:</p> - -<p class="i2">Our usual serious winter work is now in full swing. Leo -is quite taken up with popular education, schools, and colleges -for teachers, where teachers for the peasants' schools are to be -trained. All this keeps him busy from morning till night. -I have my doubts about all this. I am sorry his strength should -be spent on these things instead of on writing a novel; and I -don't know in how far it will be of use, since all this activity -will extend only to one small corner of Russia.</p> - -<p>P. F. Samárin, the Marshal of the Nobility of Toúla -Government, backed Tolstoy cordially, and pointed out that -the Zémstvo (County Council) had a sum of Rs. 30,000 -available for educational purposes, and that this might be -devoted to starting a teachers' Training College. To attain -this end Tolstoy, who heretofore had always refused to -stand for election, consented to enter the Zémstvo, and after -being returned to that body, was unanimously chosen to -serve on its Education Committee.</p> - -<p>He presented a report in the sense indicated above, which -was at first favourably discussed; but unfortunately one of -the oldest members rose, and alluding to the fact that a -collection was being made all over Russia for a monument -to Catherine the Great, and that it was the centenary of the -decree by which she had created the Government of Toúla, -proposed that the money should be devoted to the monument -of their Benefactress. This loyal sentiment met with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> -approval, and though Tolstoy did not at once abandon his -plan, the means to carry it out were never forthcoming, and -we do not hear much more of it.</p> - -<p>If one did not know how stupidly reactionary the governing -classes of Russia were at this period, it would seem -extraordinary that the central and the local authorities -alike should have so constantly balked and hindered Tolstoy's -disinterested projects: forbidding the publication of his -newspaper for soldiers, mutilating his stories, sending -gendarmes to search his schools, looking askance at his -school magazine, and defeating his project for a Training -College. Can it be wondered at, that he came more and -more to identify Government with all that is most opposed -to enlightenment? We know that similar causes were, at -that very time, driving men and women of a younger generation -to undertake dangerous propaganda work, in more -or less definite opposition to the existing order of society, -among factory workmen and country peasants.</p> - -<p>His devotion to educational matters did not entirely -supersede, though no doubt it delayed, his activity as a -novelist. In the spring of 1874 he had taken the commencement -of <i>Anna Karénina</i> to Moscow, but for some -reason none of it appeared that year.</p> - -<p>Tourgénef, in collaboration with Madame Viardot, was at -this time translating some of Tolstoy's best stories into -French. Writing to Fet in March 1874, he says:</p> - -<p class="i2">The season is now almost over, but all the same I will try to -place his [Tolstoy's] <i>Three Deaths</i> in the <i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i> -or in the <i>Temps</i>, and in autumn I will without fail get out -<i>The Cossacks</i>. The more often I read that story, the more -convinced I am that it is the <i>chef d'œuvre</i> of Tolstoy and of all -Russian narrative literature.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile life and death pursued their course. In April -a son was born and christened Nicholas; and before long, -death, having a few months previously taken the youngest, -returned to claim the oldest members of the household.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> -The first of them to go was his dearly-loved Aunty Tatiána -Alexándrovna, to whose good influence through life he owed -so much. She died on 20th June, and next year his other -aunt followed her.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy never refers to his aunt Tatiána without letting -us see how he cherishes her memory. Here for instance are -one or two of his notes relating to her:</p> - -<p class="i2">When already beginning to grow feeble, having waited her -opportunity, one day when I was in her room she said to us, -turning away (I saw that she was ready to cry), 'Look here, -<i>mes chers amis</i>, my room is a good one and you will want it. If -I die in it,' and her voice trembled, 'the recollection will be -unpleasant to you; so move me somewhere else, that I may -not die here.' Such she always was, from my earliest childhood, -before I was able to understand her goodness.</p> - -<p>Again referring to her death, and to the love for his -father which had played so large a part in her life, he adds:</p> - -<p class="i2">She died peacefully, gradually falling asleep; and died as -she desired, not in the room that had been hers, lest it should -be spoilt for us.</p> - -<p class="i2">She died recognising hardly any one. But me she always -recognised, smiling and brightening up as an electric lamp does -when one touches the knob, and sometimes she moved her lips -trying to pronounce the name Nicholas: thus in death completely -and inseparably uniting me with him she had loved all -her life.</p> - -<p>The opinion the peasants had of her, was shown by the -fact that when her coffin was carried through the village, -there was not one hut out of the sixty in Yásnaya Polyána, -from which the people did not come out asking to have the -procession stopped and a requiem sung for her soul. 'She -was a kind lady and did nobody any harm,' said they. -Tolstoy adds:</p> - -<p class="i2">On that account they loved her, and loved her very much. -Lao-Tsze says things are valuable for what is not in them. So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> -it is with a life. It is most valuable if there is nothing bad in -it; and in the life of Tatiána Alexándrovna there was nothing -bad.</p> - -<p>Except in the case of his brother Nicholas, Tolstoy has -usually not been greatly upset even by the deaths of those -near and dear to him. The following letter to Fet shows -how he took Tatiána's death:</p> - -<p class="p2 rightm"><i>24 June 1874.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">Two days ago we buried Aunt Tatiána Alexándrovna. She -died slowly and gradually, and I had grown accustomed to the -process; yet her death was, as the death of a near and dear -one always is, a quite new, isolated and unexpectedly-stirring -event. The others are well, and our house is full. The -delightful heat, the bathing and the fruit have brought me to -the state of mental laziness I love, with only enough mental -life remaining to enable me to remember my friends and think -of them.</p> - -<p>The next letter, dated the 22nd October, tells its own tale:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch</span>,—I have planned to buy, and -must buy, some land at Nikólsky, and for that purpose must -borrow Rs. 10,000 for one year on mortgage. It may be that -you have money you want to place. If so, write to Iván -Ivánovitch Orlóf, Nikólsky village, and he will arrange the -affair with you independently of our relations to one another.... -How gladly would I come to see you, were I not so overwhelmed -with the school, family and estate business, that I -have not even time to go out shooting.... I hope to be free -when winter comes.</p> - - -<h3>1875</h3> - -<p>A small second edition of Tolstoy's <i>ABC</i> Book, in twelve -paper-bound parts, was printed this year; but he did not -yet feel quite satisfied with that work, and towards the close -of the year he revised it, abbreviating, omitting the arithmetic, -and introducing graduated reading exercises. As soon as -the pupil has mastered a few of the most necessary letters -and can put these together, Tolstoy contrives out of the -very simplest syllables to construct sentences that have a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span> -meaning and an interest. The <i>New ABC</i> Book, apart from -the more advanced <i>Readers</i>, and consisting of ninety-two pages -of elementary matter, was issued in 1875, at the low -price of 14 copecks (about 4d.). Since Tolstoy's -efforts have seldom been favoured by the Government, it is -worth noting that this edition was 'Approved and recommended -by the Scholarly Committee of the Ministry of -Popular Education.' Between one and two million copies -of it have since been sold. The reading matter from his -first <i>ABC</i> Book was subsequently graded into four cheap -<i>Readers</i> costing 3d. to 4d. each, and though not honoured -by the Ministry of Education, they have from that time to -this circulated in increasing quantities, being printed of late -years in edition after edition of 50,000 at a time.</p> - -<p>The Countess has in general enjoyed good health and -worn her years and the cares of her large family very lightly; -but during the winter of 1874-5 her condition gave her -husband much concern. In January he was able to write -to Fet: 'I have ceased to fear for my wife's health'; but -in fact for some time longer she continued to be ailing.</p> - -<p>The commencement of <i>Anna Karénina</i>, appeared in the -first four monthly numbers of the <i>Russian Messenger</i> for -1875.</p> - -<p>By far the best English version of that novel (as also of -<i>War and Peace</i>) is Mrs. Constance Garnett's, though I do -not like her alteration of the title of the book to <i>Anna -Karénin</i>, nor am I quite satisfied with her treatment of -some of the conversations in it; but unquestionably we have -much to thank her for.</p> - -<p>In February the baby, Nicholas, died of inflammation of -the brain, and on 4th March 1875<a name="FNanchor_53" id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> Tolstoy wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">We have one grief after another; you and Márya Petróvna -will certainly be sorry for us, especially for Sónya. Our -youngest son, ten months old, fell ill three weeks ago with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> -the dreadful illness called 'water on the brain,' and after three -weeks' terrible torture died three days ago, and we have buried -him to-day. I feel it hard through my wife; but for her, who -was nursing him herself, it is very hard.</p> - -<p>In the same letter he mentions <i>Anna Karénina</i>, and immediately -afterwards he makes an allusion to the first idea -of his <i>Confession</i>, which was not actually written till 1879:</p> - -<p class="i2">It pleases me very much that you praise <i>Karénina</i> and I hear -that she gets praised; but assuredly never was writer so indifferent -to his success as I am!</p> - -<p class="i2">On the one hand what preoccupies me are the school affairs, -and on the other, strange to say, the subject of a new work, -which took possession of me just at the worst time of the boy's -illness,—and that illness itself and death....</p> - -<p class="i2">From Tourgénef I have received the translation, printed in -the <i>Temps</i>, of my <i>Two Hussars</i>, and a letter written in the -third person asking to be informed that I have received it, and -saying that other stories are being translated by Madame Viardot -and Tourgénef,—both of which were unnecessary. [Tolstoy -means that they need neither have sent him the translation, -nor informed him of what they were doing.]</p> - -<p>The commencement of <i>Anna Karénina</i> did not find favour -with Tourgénef, who on 14th March wrote from Paris to -A. S. Souvórin, the novelist and proprietor of the <i>Nóvoye -Vrémya</i> (<i>New Times</i>):</p> - -<p class="i2">His [Tolstoy's] talent is quite extraordinary, but in <i>Anna -Karénina</i> he, as one says here, <i>a fait fausse route</i>; one feels the -influence of Moscow, Slavophil nobility, Orthodox old maids, -his own isolation, and the absence of real artistic freedom. -Part II is simply dull and shallow—that's what's the matter.</p> - -<p>And writing in similar strains to Polónsky the poet, -Tourgénef said:</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>Anna Karénina</i> does not please me, though there are some -truly splendid pages (the steeplechase, the mowing, and the -hunt). But it is all sour: smells of Moscow, holy oil, -old maidishness, Slavophilism, and the aristocracy, etc.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> -The cordiality of Tourgénef's appreciation of Tolstoy's -writings in general, is sufficient guarantee that it was no -personal prejudice that led him to speak in this way of a -book which is one of Tolstoy's three most important novels, -and which many people hold to be the best of them all. -What really caused his harsh judgment, is a matter I will -deal with later on.</p> - -<p>This summer the whole Tolstoy family went to the -Samára estates, which had already been considerably increased -by the last purchase, and which ultimately exceeded -16,000 acres. Mouhamed Shah with his herd of mares and -his <i>kotchévka</i>—which Tolstoy called 'our saloon'—again -appeared on the scene. A second <i>kotchévka</i> was set up -for the use of the Tolstoys themselves, and was so much in -favour that all the members of the family were eager to -occupy it.</p> - -<p>The novelty and the peculiarities of steppe farming -interested Tolstoy, and he, as well as other members of his -household, took an active part in harvesting and winnowing. -How primitive were the Samára methods of agriculture may -be shown by mentioning their manner of threshing. A ring -of horses was formed, tied head to tail. In the centre of -the ring stood a driver with a long lash, and the horses -were set trotting round a corresponding circle of sheaves, out -of which they trod the grain.</p> - -<p>The virgin soil was ploughed up by five or even six pair -of oxen, wearing round their necks deep-toned bells, sounding -in a minor key. These things, together with the pipes -of the boys who watched the herds, the sultry days, and the -marvellously clear moonlit nights, had a wonderful charm -for the whole party, and this charm was increased by Tolstoy's -capacity to notice and direct attention to whatever -was interesting or beautiful.</p> - -<p>The whole family became interested, Behrs tells us, in -their new farming, and some of them went with Tolstoy -as far afield as Orenbourg to purchase cattle and horses.</p> - -<p>He bought about a hundred Bashkír mares and crossed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> -them with an English trotter and with horses of other breeds, -hoping to obtain a good new type.</p> - -<p>One evening his whole herd, and Mouhamed Shah's as -well, were very nearly driven off by some Kirghiz nomads -who were passing. The invaders were, however, pursued -and driven off by two mounted Bashkír labourers.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy declared farming in Samára to be a game of -chance. It cost nearly three times as much to plough up -the land, sow it, and gather in a harvest, as it did to purchase -the freehold of the estate; and if during May and -June there was not at least one good fall of rain, everything -perished; whereas if it rained several times, the -harvest yielded thirty to forty-fold.</p> - -<p>One day, at harvest time, a poor wandering Tartar, drawing -two little children in a tiny cart, came up to the balcony -on which the Tolstoys were sitting, and asked to be hired -as a labourer. He was allowed to set up his wigwam in a -field close by, and the Tolstoy children used to go there -every day to feed the little Tartars.</p> - -<p>In the neighbouring village lived several well-to-do -Russian peasants with whom Tolstoy was on very good -terms. Either because they were economically independent -and lived in a province where serfdom had not prevailed, -or as a result of Tolstoy's tact and ability to set people -at their ease, these peasants always behaved with dignity -and self-respect. They shook hands when they said 'How -do you do?' and seemed quite at home with the Count.</p> - -<p>He used to notice with pleasure the good relations and -complete religious toleration that existed in those parts -between the Orthodox peasants and their Mohammedan -neighbours; and he was also delighted that the priest at -Pátrovka was on friendly terms with the Molokáns he was -trying to convert.</p> - -<p>One rainy night, after staying late at this priest's house, -Tolstoy and his brother-in-law completely lost their way. -It was so dark that they could not see their horses' heads. -Behrs was riding an old working horse, which kept pulling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> -to the left. Tolstoy, on hearing this, told him to let the -horse follow its bent. Behrs therefore tied his reins so -that they hung loose, and wrapping himself in his cloak -from the drenching rain, allowed the horse to go where -it liked. Carefully avoiding the ploughed land, it soon -brought them out on to the road, and, curiously enough, to -just the one part of it which was distinguishable from the -extraordinary sameness of the rest, so that the riders knew -just where they were.</p> - -<p>The most striking event of this year's stay in Samára was -a horse race, arranged by Tolstoy. Mouhamed Shah was -authorised to announce to the peasants and neighbours that -races would be held on the Count's estate; and invitations -were sent to all likely to take part. Bashkírs and Kirghiz -assembled, bringing with them tents, portable copper boilers, -plenty of koumýs, and even sheep. Oural Cossacks and -Russian peasants also came from the whole surrounding -neighbourhood. In preparation for the race, says Behrs:</p> - -<p class="i2">We ourselves chose a level place, measured out a huge circle -three miles in circumference, marked it by running a plough -round, and set up posts. Sheep and even one horse were -prepared with which to regale visitors. By the appointed day -some thousands of people had collected. On the wild steppe, -covered with feather grass, a row of tents appeared, and soon -a motley crowd enlivened it. On the conical hillocks (locally -called 'cones') felt and other carpets were spread, on which -the Bashkírs sat in circles, their legs tucked under them. In -the centre of the circle, out of a large <i>toursouk</i> [a leather bottle -made of an animal's leg] a young Bashkír poured koumýs, -handing the cup to each of the company in turn. Their songs, -and the tunes played on their pipes and reeds, sounded somewhat -dreary to a European ear. Wrestling, at which the -Bashkírs are particularly skilful, could be seen here and there. -Thirty trained horses were entered for the chief race. The -riders were boys of about ten years, who rode without saddles.</p> - -<p>This race was for thirty-three miles, and it took exactly -an hour and forty minutes; consequently it was run at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span> -rate of three minutes a mile. Of the thirty horses, ten ran -the whole distance, the others giving up. The principal -prizes were a horse, an ox, a gun, a clock, and a dressing-gown. -The festival lasted two days, and passed off in -perfect order and very gaily. To Tolstoy's delight no -police were present. The guests all politely thanked their -host and departed highly satisfied. 'Even in the crowd,' -says Behrs, 'it seemed to me that Leo Nikoláyevitch -knew how to evoke <i>entrain</i> combined with respect for good -order.'</p> - -<p>Tolstoy visited the Petróvsky Fair, as was his yearly -custom, and stayed at the Bouzouloúk Monastery, where a -hermit resided who was 'saving his soul' by a solitary and -ascetic life. This man lived in an underground catacomb. -When he came out he walked about the garden and showed -his visitors an apple-tree he had planted forty years before, -under which it was his custom to sit when receiving pilgrims. -He spoke to Tolstoy about the Scriptures, and showed him -his catacomb-home, the coffin in which he slept, and the -large crucifix before which he prayed.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy considered that the respect paid to this man by -pilgrims and other visitors, was the outcome of genuine -religious feeling, and proved that the hermit, by giving the -example of a pure, unworldly life, supplied a real want.</p> - -<p>Readers of Tolstoy's short stories will be aware of the use -to which he subsequently put his knowledge of the Bashkírs -and of the hermit.</p> - -<p>On 26th August, after reaching Yásnaya, he wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">Two days ago we arrived home safely....</p> - -<p class="i2">We have had an average harvest, but the price of labour has -been enormous, so that finally ends only just meet. For two -months I have not soiled my hands with ink nor my heart -with thoughts. Now I am settling down again to dull, common-place -<i>Anna Karénina</i> with the sole desire to clear a space -quickly, and obtain leisure for other occupations—only not for -the educational work I love but wish to abandon. It takes too -much time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> -His Samára experiences confirmed in him the feeling that -not the civilisation and progress and political struggles of -the Western world and of the small Westernised section of -Russians, were really important, but the great primitive -struggle of plain people to obtain a subsistence in healthy -natural conditions; and he adds in the same letter:</p> - -<p class="i2">Why fate took me there [to Samára] I do not know; but I -know that I have listened to speeches in the English Parliament, -which is considered very important, and it seemed to me -dull and insignificant; but there, are flies, dirt, and Bashkír -peasants, and I, watching them with intense respect and -anxiety, became absorbed in listening to them and watching -them, and felt it all to be very important.</p> - -<p class="i2">One must live as we lived, in a healthy out-of-the-way part -of Samára, and see the struggle going on before one's eyes of -the nomadic life (of millions of people on an immense territory) -with the primitive agricultural life, in order to realise all the -importance of that struggle.</p> - -<p>After their return from the Government of Samára, all -the children got hooping-cough. The Countess caught it -from them, and, being in the sixth month of pregnancy, was -very ill. This resulted in the premature birth of a girl, -Varvára, who lived less than two hours.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's eldest son, Sergius, had now reached the age of -twelve. Besides their English governess and a Swiss lady, the -children had at different times a Swiss, a Frenchman, and -a German as tutors for modern languages. Tutors and -students who acted as tutors, also lodged at Yásnaya and -taught other subjects. A music master came over from -Toúla. The eldest boy had considerable musical talent, -and the family as a whole were musical. As soon as they -had mastered their finger exercises, the Count insisted on -their at once being allowed to learn serious pieces.</p> - -<p>Every effort was made to awaken and foster the talent -for drawing and painting which some of the children, and -especially the eldest daughter, Tatiána, possessed; but lessons<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span> -in these subjects were only given to those who showed real -capacity for them.</p> - -<p>Much as Tolstoy disliked the curriculum of the Grammar -Schools ('Gymnasiums,' as they are called in Russia), he did, -not wish to make it impossible for his sons to enter the -University, and they followed the usual classical course. -Sergius passed his examinations each year in Toúla -Gymnasium, being carefully coached at home.</p> - -<p>In his <i>Recollections</i> Behrs tells us of Tolstoy's enlivening -influence in the family:</p> - -<p class="i2">I cannot sufficiently describe the joyous and happy frame -of mind that usually reigned at Yásnaya Polyána. Its source -was always Leo Nikoláyevitch. In conversation about abstract -questions, about the education of children, about outside -matters—his opinion was always most interesting. When playing -croquet, or during our walks, he enlivened us all by his -humour and his participation, taking a real part in the game -or the walk.</p> - -<p class="i2">With me, he liked to mow, or use the rake; to do gymnastics, -to race, and occasionally to play leap-frog or <i>gorodkí</i> [a -game in which a stick is thrown at some other shorter sticks -placed in a pattern], etc. Though far inferior to him in strength, -for he could lift 180 lbs. with one hand, I could easily match -him in a race, but seldom passed him, for I was always laughing. -That mood accompanied all our exercises. Whenever we -happened to pass where mowers were at work, he would go up -to them and borrow a scythe from the one who seemed most -tired. I of course imitated his example. He would then ask -me, Why we, with well-developed muscles, cannot mow six -days on end, though a peasant does it on rye-bread, and -sleeping on damp earth? 'You just try to do it under such -conditions,' he would add in conclusion. When leaving the -meadow, he would take a handful of hay from the haycock and -sniff it, keenly enjoying its smell.</p> - -<p>Children and grown-ups alike played croquet at Yásnaya. -The game generally began after dinner in the evening, and -only finished by candlelight. Behrs says that, having -played it with Tolstoy, he considers croquet to be a game of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> -chance. Tolstoy's commendation of a good shot always -pleased the player and aroused the emulation of his opponents. -The kindly irony of his comments on a miss, also -acted as a spur. A simple word from him, uttered just -at the right moment and in the right tone, produced that -<i>entrain</i> which makes any occupation interesting and infects -all who come under its influence.</p> - -<p>The sincerity of Tolstoy's nature showed itself in the -frank expression of his passing mood. If, when driving to -the station, he saw that they had missed the train, he would -exclaim, 'Ach! we've missed it!' with such intensity that -every one within earshot would first feel as though a calamity -had occurred, and would then join in the hearty laughter -which his own vehement exclamation evoked in Tolstoy. -It was the same when he made a bad miss at croquet; and -also if, when sitting at home, he suddenly remembered some -engagement he had forgotten to keep. If, as sometimes -happened, his exclamation alarmed his wife, he would half-jokingly -add, like a scolded child, 'I'll never do it again!'</p> - -<p>His laughter, which began on a high note, had something -wonderfully infectious about it. His head would hang over -on one side, and his whole body would shake.</p> - -<p>His good-natured irony constantly acted as a stimulant to -those about him. If, for instance, some one was in the -dumps about the weather, Tolstoy would say: 'Is your -weather behaving badly?' Or when Behrs was sitting -comfortably listening to a conversation, he would say to -him: 'As you are on the move, you might please bring -me so-and-so.'</p> - -<p>When he felt it wise to reject an extra cigar or a second -helping of some favourite dish, he would remark to those -present: 'Wait till I am grown up, and then I will have -two helpings,' or 'two cigars,' as the case might be.</p> - -<p>If, says Behrs, 'he noticed any of the children making a -wry or affected face, he generally called out, "Now then, no -grimacing; you'll only spoil your phiz."'</p> - -<p>Behrs also tells us that.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> -What he called 'the Numidian cavalry' evoked our noisiest -applause. He would unexpectedly spring up from his place -and, raising one arm in the air with its hand hanging quite loose -from the wrist, he would run lightly through the rooms. All -the children, and sometimes the grown-ups also, would follow -his example with the same suddenness.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy read aloud very well, and would often read to -the family or to visitors.</p> - -<p>His contempt for doctors and medicine is plainly indicated -both in <i>War and Peace</i> and <i>Anna Karénina</i>. Like -Rousseau he considered that the practice of medicine should -be general and not confined to one profession; and this -opinion inclined him to approve of the folk-remedies used -by the peasants. But he did not go the length of refusing -to call in a doctor when one of the family was seriously ill.</p> - -<p>Before the year closed, Tolstoy's aunt, Pelagéya Ilýnishna -Úshkof, with whom he had lived in his young days in Kazán, -also passed away. She had been separated from her husband -before his death in 1869, and had long not even seen him, -though they remained quite friendly towards one another. -She was very religious in an Orthodox Church way, and after -her husband's death retired to the Óptin nunnery. Subsequently -she moved to the Toúla nunnery, but arranged to -spend much of her time at Yásnaya; where in her eightieth -year she fell ill and died. She was in general a good-tempered -though not clever woman, and all her life long -strictly observed the ceremonies of the Church and thought -that she firmly believed its teaching about redemption and -resurrection; yet she was so afraid of death that on her -death-bed she was reluctant to receive the eucharist, because -it brought home to her mind the fact that she was dying; -and as a consequence of the sufferings caused by the fear -of death, she became irritable with all about her.</p> - -<p>A servant who lived in the house at the time, tells that -while at Yásnaya she used, on the first of each month, to -send for a priest. As soon as he arrived, and began the -usual ceremony of blessing with holy water, Tolstoy would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span> -escape and hide himself. Not till the gardener, Semyón—whom -he used to send into the conservatory to reconnoitre—brought -him word that the priest had gone, would -Tolstoy reappear in the house.</p> - -<p>About that time, however, his attitude towards Church -ceremonies altered. His man-servant Sergéy Arboúzof (who -saw only the external signs of the complex inner struggle -going on in Tolstoy) tells us:</p> - -<p class="i2">Suddenly a wonderful change came over him, of which I was -a witness. In 1875 a priest, Vasíly Ivánovitch, from the Toúla -Seminary, used to come to teach theology to Tolstoy's children. -At first, Leo Nikoláyevitch hardly ever talked to him, but it -once happened that a snow-storm obliged Vasíly Ivánovitch to -stop the night at our house. The Count began a conversation -with him, and they did not go to bed till daylight. They talked -the whole night.</p> - -<p class="i2">From that day Leo Nikoláyevitch became very thoughtful, -and always talked with Vasíly Ivánovitch. When Lent came -round, the Count got up one morning and said, 'I am going to -do my devotions, and prepare to receive communion. You can -go back to bed, but first tell the coachman not to get up. -I will saddle Kalmýk (his favourite horse at that time) myself. -Forgive me, Sergéy, if I have ever offended you!' and he went -off to church.</p> - -<p class="i2">From that day for a couple of years he always went to church, -seldom missing a Sunday. The whole village was surprised, -and asked, 'What has the priest told the Count, that has -suddenly made him so fond of church-going?'</p> - -<p class="i2">It used to happen that the Count would come into my hut -when I was teaching my little boy religion.</p> - -<p class="i2">'What are you teaching him?' he would ask.</p> - -<p class="i2">And I used to say, 'To pray.'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Ah!' said he, 'that is right. A man who does not pray to -God is not a real man.'</p> - - -<h3>1876</h3> - -<p>The publication of <i>Anna Karénina</i> was renewed in the first -four numbers of the <i>Russian Messenger</i> for 1876.</p> - -<p>On 1st March Tolstoy writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span> -Things are still not all right with us. My wife does not get -over her last illness, coughs, gets thin, and has first fever and -then headaches. And therefore the house lacks well-being, -and I lack mental tranquillity, which I now particularly need -for my work. The end of winter and beginning of spring is -always my chief time for work, and I must finish my novel, -which now wearies me.... I always hope a tooth will come -loose in your jaw, or in your thrashing machine, and cause you -to go to Moscow. Then I shall spin a cobweb at Kozlóvka [the -nearest station to Yásnaya] and catch you.</p> - -<p>In April Fet wrote to Tolstoy to say that he had been -seriously ill, had thought he was dying, and 'wished to call -you to see how I departed.' On 29th April Tolstoy replies -in a letter notable because it gives us a glimpse of the progress -he had made in the fierce five-year inner struggle with -doubt which preceded the production of his <i>Confession</i>:</p> - -<p class="i2">I am grateful to you for thinking of calling me to see your -departure, when you supposed it was near. I will do the same -when I get ready to go <i>thither</i>, if I am able to think. No one -will be so necessary to me at that moment as you and my -brother. When death draws near, intercourse with people who -in this life look beyond its bounds, is precious and cheering; -and you and those rare <i>real</i> people I have met in life, always -stand on the very verge and see clearly, just because they look -now at Nirvana—the illimitable, the unknown—and now at -Sansara; and that glance at Nirvana strengthens their sight. -But worldly people, however much they may talk about God, -are unpleasant to you and me, and must be a torment when -one is dying, for they do not see what we see, namely the God -who 'is more indefinite and distant, but loftier and more -indubitable,' as was said in that article.</p> - -<p class="i2">You are ill and think of death, and I am alive and do not -cease thinking of and preparing for the same thing.... Much -that I have thought, I have tried to express in the last chapter -of the April number of the <i>Russian Messenger</i> [<i>Anna Karénina</i>, -Part I, Chap. XX].</p> - -<p>The passage referred to, telling of the death of Lévin's -brother, is evidently based on the death of Tolstoy's own -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> -brother Demetrius; and it may here be mentioned that -many characters in <i>Anna Karénina</i> are drawn more or less -closely from life. For instance, Agáfya Miháylovna, the -servant, was a real person, and that was her real name. She -died at Yásnaya only a few years ago. Yásnaya Polyána -itself, in many of its details, is also described in the novel.</p> - -<p>On 12th May Tolstoy again writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">It is already five days since I received the horse, and every -day I prepare but never make time to write to you. Here the -spring and summer life has begun, and our house is full of -guests and of bustle. This summer life seems to me like a -dream: it contains some slight remains of my real, winter life, -but consists chiefly of visions, now pleasant and now unpleasant, -from some absurd world not ruled by sane sense. Among -these visions came your beautiful stallion. I am very much -obliged to you for it. Where am I to send the money to?...</p> - -<p class="i2">An event which occupies me very much at present is -Sergey's examinations, which begin on the 27th.... What -a terrible summer! Here it is dreadful and mournful to look at -the wood, especially at the young trees. They have all perished.</p> - -<p>On 18th May he wrote again:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have been slow in answering your long and cordial letter -because I have been unwell and dispirited, as I still am, but I -will write at least a few lines. Our house is full of people: my -niece Nagórnaya with two children, the Kouzmínskys with four -children; and Sónya [the Countess] is still poorly, and I dejected -and dull-minded. Our one hope was for good weather, and -that we have not got. As you and I resemble one another, -you must know the condition in which one feels oneself to be, -now a God from whom nothing is hid, and now stupider than -a horse. In that state I am at present. So do not be exacting. -Till next letter, yours,</p> - -<p class="rightm smcap">L. Tolstoy.</p> - -<p class="p2">The Kouzmínskys referred to above were Tánya, her -husband, and their family. They spent every summer at -Yásnaya, in the 'wing' house. When discussing any -excursion or other undertaking with Mr. Kouzmínsky, -Tolstoy would often say, 'But we must hear what the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span> -Authorities have to say about it,' the Authorities being -their wives.</p> - -<p>Passing into his 'summer condition,' Tolstoy's attention -to <i>Anna Karénina</i> slackened; but before the end of the -year he set energetically to work to finish it. The interest -aroused by the book was extreme, and the story goes that -Moscow ladies used to send to the establishment where the -novel was being printed, to try to find out what the continuation -would be.</p> - -<p>On 21st July Tolstoy writes inviting Fet's brother, Peter -Afánasyevitch, a great lover of horses, to accompany him to -Samára; and in the same letter he makes an allusion to the -troubles of the Slavs in Turkey, where fighting had already -been going on for a twelvemonth with the Herzegovinians. -Peter Afanásyevitch had gone as a volunteer, and had returned -after the failure of the insurrection.</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>21 July 1876.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">I am very much to blame, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch, for -having been so slow in writing to you. I prepare to write -every day, but cannot find time because I am doing nothing.... -Stráhof was here a week ago, and we philosophised to the -point of weariness....</p> - -<p class="i2">I press the hand of Peter Afanásyevitch. I should like to -hear his stories about Herzegovina, in the existence of which I -do not believe!</p> - -<p class="i2">I am arranging to go to Samára in September. If Peter -Afanásyevitch has no plans for September, will not he go -with me to see the Kirghiz and their horses? How jolly it -would be!</p> - -<p>Mention has already been made of the fact that Tolstoy, -who understood horses very well, was at this time interested -in horse-breeding as a source of revenue. To buy them he -visited Orenbourg, where he met General Kryzhanóvsky, -a friend who had been one of his superior officers in -Sevastopol and was now Governor-General of this northern -Province. They spent the time together very pleasantly -recalling their past experiences.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span></p> - -<p>To his wife, who had found it hard to consent to his -absence, he wrote in September:</p> - -<p class="i2">I know that it is hard for you, and that you are afraid; but -I saw the effort you made to control yourself and not to hinder -me and, were it possible, I loved you yet more on that account. -If only God grants you to spend the time well, healthily, -energetically and usefully!... Lord have mercy on me and -on thee!</p> - -<p>In a letter of 13th November Tolstoy writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">Pity me for two things: (1) a good-for-nothing coachman -took the stallions to Samára and, wishing to take a short cut, -drowned Gouneba in a bog within ten miles of the estate; (2) -I sleep and cannot write; I despise myself for laziness and do -not allow myself to take up any other work.</p> - -<p>Twenty-eight years after the loss of Gouneba, the -Countess, in speaking to me of her husband's qualities as a -man of affairs, remarked that his schemes were very good, -but that he generally spoilt them by lack of care in details. -'For instance,' she remarked, 'it was quite a good idea of -his to send a very fine stallion which cost Rs. 2000 [about -Ł260] to our estate in Samára. There were no such -horses in the district; but he must needs entrust it to a -drunken Tartar who made away with it and said he had -lost it.'</p> - -<p>On 7th December 1876 Tolstoy wrote to Fet acknowledging -a poem, 'Among the Stars,' which the latter had -sent him:</p> - -<p class="i2">That poem is not only worthy of you, but is specially, -specially good, with that philosophic-poetic character which I -expect from you. It is excellent that it is said by the stars.... -It is also good, as my wife remarked, that on the same sheet on -which the poem is written, you pour out your grief that the -price of kerosene has risen to 12 copecks. That is an indirect -but sure sign of a poet.</p> - -<p>The reader is by this time well aware of Tolstoy's devotion -to music. Though it was at times crowded out of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> -life by other interests, he always returned to it with ardour -when opportunity offered. Behrs tells us that Tolstoy -generally, when playing, chose serious music.</p> - -<p class="i2">He often sat down to the piano before beginning to work.... -He always accompanied my youngest sister [Tánya] and enjoyed -her singing very much. I noticed that the sensation -music evoked in him expressed itself by a slight pallor and a -scarcely perceptible grimace, suggestive of something like -terror. Hardly a day passed in summer without my sister singing -and without the piano being played. Occasionally we all -sang together, and he always played the accompaniments.</p> - -<p>As Tolstoy's spiritual crisis approached, the attraction of -music for him seemed to increase, and it was about this -period, that is to say in December 1876, that he made -acquaintance with the composer P. I. Tschaikóvsky, who had -held the post of Director of the Moscow Conservatoire, the -first seeds of which Tolstoy had helped to plant nearly -twenty years before.</p> - -<p>Tschaikóvsky had from his youth up been a devoted -admirer of Tolstoy, whose skill in reading the human heart -appeared to him almost superhuman. He was therefore -highly gratified when Tolstoy of his own accord sought his -acquaintance. At first their personal intercourse did not -appear to lessen the composer's reverence for the author, -for on 23rd December 1876 he wrote to a friend:</p> - -<p class="i2">Count L. N. Tolstoy spent some time here recently. He -visited me several times and spent two whole evenings with me. -I am tremendously flattered, and proud of the interest I have -inspired in him, and for my part am completely enchanted by -his ideal personality.</p> - -<p>Tschaikóvsky induced Nicholas Rubinstein, then Director -of the Moscow Conservatoire, to arrange a musical -evening solely for Tolstoy, and at this concert, Rubinstein, -Fitzenhagen, and Adolph Bródsky, who is now Principal -of the Manchester College of Music, were among the chief -performers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span> -One of the pieces performed by a quartet was Tschaikóvsky's -'Andante in D Major,' which so affected Tolstoy that -he wept. 'Never, perhaps, in my life,' says Tschaikóvsky, -'was I so flattered, or my vanity as a composer so touched, -as when Leo Nikoláyevitch, sitting next to me and listening -to the quartet performing my Andante, burst into tears.'</p> - -<p>After Tolstoy had returned to Yásnaya he wrote to -Tschaikóvsky, sending him a collection of folk-songs, and -saying:</p> - -<p class="i2">I send you the songs, dear Peter Ilyítch. I have again looked -them through. They will be a wonderful treasure in your -hands. But for God's sake work them up and use them in a -Mozart-Haydn style, and not in a Beethoven-Schumann-Berlioz, -artificial way, seeking the unexpected. How much I left unsaid -to you. I really said nothing of what I wanted to say. -There was no time. I was enjoying myself. This last stay of -mine in Moscow will remain one of the best of my reminiscences. -Never have I received so precious a reward for my -literary labours as on that wonderful evening.</p> - -<p>Tschaikóvsky replied:</p> - -<p class="i2">Count, I am sincerely grateful to you for sending the songs. -I must tell you candidly that they have been taken down by an -unskilful hand, and bear only traces of their pristine beauty. -The chief defect is that they have been artificially squeezed -and forced into a regular, measured form. Only Russian dance -music has a rhythm and a regular and equally accentuated -beat; but folk-ballads have of course nothing in common with -dance songs. Moreover, most of these songs are, arbitrarily -it seems, written in a solemn D Major, which again does not -suit a real Russian song, which almost always has an indefinite -tonality approximating nearest of all to ancient Church music. -In general, the songs you have sent me cannot be worked up -in a regular and systematic way: that is to say, one cannot -make a collection of them, because for that they would have to be -taken down as nearly as possible in the way in which the people -perform them. That is an extremely difficult matter, demanding -fine musical feeling and great historico-musical erudition. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> -Except Balakíref, and to some extent Prokoúnin, I do not know -any one competent for the task. But as material for symphonic -treatment, your songs can be of use, and are even very good -material, which I certainly will avail myself of in one way -or other.</p> - -<p>It is rather disappointing to find that the intercourse between -these two men, each so great in his own way, and each -such an admirer of the other's genius, was not continued.</p> - -<p>Tschaikóvsky's expectations had been pitched too high, -and he felt a certain disappointment that his 'demigod' -was, after all, but human. He had dreaded to meet the -novelist lest the latter should penetrate the secret recesses -of his soul; but, says Tschaikóvsky:</p> - -<p class="i2">He who in his writings was the deepest of heart-seers, -proved in personal contact to be a man of simple, whole, and -frank nature, showing very little of the omniscience I had -feared.... It was plain he did not at all regard me as a -subject for his observation, but simply wanted to chat about -music, in which he was then interested. He took a pleasure -in denying Beethoven, and plainly expressed doubts of his -genius. This was a trait not at all worthy of a great man. -To pull down a universally acknowledged genius to the level -of one's own intelligence, is characteristic of small people.</p> - -<p>Feeling thus, Tschaikóvsky purposely avoided meeting -Tolstoy again, and even took a temporary aversion to <i>Anna -Karénina</i>, though eventually he returned to his former -admiration of Tolstoy's novels.</p> - -<p>Tschaikóvsky was not aware of the reasons Tolstoy had -for the unorthodox position he held on art generally and -music in particular: reasons which it will be more in place -to deal with later on, and which I have in fact already -treated of at some length in a previous work, <i>Tolstoy and -his Problems</i>. Here let it suffice to say that there is plenty -of evidence to show that Tolstoy can enjoy Beethoven, and -enjoy even the works of Beethoven's last period, which are -the ones he criticises. There is, for instance, the episode<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span> -with Mlle. Oberlender, which will be recounted later on, -and we have his own statement in <i>What is Art?</i>:</p> - -<p class="i2">I should mention that whatever other people understand of -the productions of Beethoven's later period, I, being very susceptible -to music, equally understand. For a long time I used -to attune myself so as to delight in those shapeless improvisations -which form the subject-matter of the works of Beethoven's -later period; but I had only to consider the question of art -seriously, and to compare the impression I received from -Beethoven's later works with those pleasant, clear, and strong -musical impressions which are transmitted, for instance, by the -melodies of Bach (his arias), Haydn, Mozart, Chopin (when his -melodies are not overloaded with complications and ornamentation), -and of Beethoven himself in his earlier period, and above -all, with the impressions produced by folk-songs,—Italian, -Norwegian, or Russian,—by the Hungarian <i>tzardas</i>, and other -such simple, clear, and powerful music, and the obscure, almost -unhealthy excitement from Beethoven's later pieces that I had -artificially evoked in myself was destroyed.</p> - -<p>His work among peasant children has convinced him -that the normal human being possesses capacities for the -enjoyment of art; and that in most unexpected places the -capacity to produce admirable art is now lying latent. -That is why he sets up Brevity, Simplicity, and Sincerity as -the criterions of art, and why he believes that folk-tales -and folk-songs and folk-dances, the Gospel parables, such Old -Testament stories as the history of Joseph, the Arabian -Nights and the Christmas Carol; and music such as the -<i>tzardas</i>, the <i>Swanee River</i>, the <i>Old Hundredth</i>, and Bach's -arias, are infinitely more important to the life and well-being -of humanity than <i>King Lear</i> or the <i>Ninth Symphony</i>.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy—who had boasted of not reading newspapers, and -who had lived so detached from politics and the events of -contemporary history—began at this time to feel keenly -interested in a question closely connected with Russia's -foreign policy.</p> - -<p>Following the insurrection in Herzegovina, another had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span> -broken out in Bulgaria in May 1876, but had been quickly -suppressed by the Turks, who burnt some sixty-five villages; -the Bashi-Bazouks committing unspeakable atrocities on -the defenceless inhabitants. At the commencement of July, -Servia and Montenegro declared war against Turkey; but, -in spite of help rendered by numerous Russian volunteers, -they were soon crushed by the Turks, and would have been -completely at their mercy had not Russia, on 31st October, -issued an ultimatum demanding an armistice, which Turkey -conceded. On 10th November Alexander II made a speech -in the Moscow Krémlin, in which he declared that he would -act independently of the other powers unless satisfactory -guarantees of reform were obtained forthwith from the -Sultan. These events gradually led to the war which broke -out between Russia and Turkey in April 1877.</p> - -<p>Before this, however, in the letter of 13th November -1876, already quoted, Tolstoy wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I went to Moscow to hear about the war. This whole affair -agitates me greatly. It is well for those to whom it is clear; -but I am frightened when I begin to reflect on all the complexity -of the conditions amid which history is made, and how -some Madame A.—with her vanity—becomes an indispensable -cog in the whole machine!</p> - -<p>The Russo-Turkish imbroglio led, early in 1877, to -a split between Tolstoy and Katkóf. Tolstoy, at bottom -and in his own original way, was certainly a reformer; and -his alliance with Katkóf, who was quite reactionary, had -always been rather like the yoking of an ox with an ass. -At this time Katkóf was ardent for the liberation of the -Slavs from Turkish tyranny, laudatory of those who volunteered -for the war, and eager for the aggrandisement of -Russia. Tolstoy, with his knowledge of the realities of war -and his insight into the motives that actuate the men who -fight, had his doubts about the heroic and self-sacrificing -character of the volunteers and the purity of the patriotism -of the press; and he expressed these doubts very plainly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span> -in some of the concluding chapters of <i>Anna Karénina</i>: as, -for instance, where he makes Lévin say of 'the unanimity -of the press':</p> - -<p class="i2">'That's been explained to me: as soon as there's a war -their incomes are doubled. So how can they help believing in -the destinies of the people and the Slavonic races ... and -all the rest of it?'</p> - -<p>The result was that when the final chapters of the -novel were appearing in the <i>Russian Messenger</i> during the -first months of 1877, Katkóf returned some of the MS. -to Tolstoy with numerous corrections and a letter saying -that he could not print it unless his corrections were -accepted.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy was furious that a journalist should dare to -alter a single word in his book, and in reply sent a sharp -letter to Katkóf, which resulted in a rupture. Tolstoy -issued the last part of <i>Anna Karénina</i> separately in book -form and not in the magazine, besides, of course, issuing -the whole work in book form, as usual; and, in the May -number of his <i>Russian Messenger</i>, Katkóf had to wind up -the story as best he could, by giving a brief summary of -the concluding part.</p> - -<p>These events throw light on the following letter to -Fet:</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>23 March 1877.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">You can't imagine how glad I am to have your approval of -my writings, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch, and in general to -receive your letter. You write that the <i>Russian Messenger</i> has -printed some one else's poem, while your <i>Temptation</i> lies waiting. -It is the dullest and deadest editorial office in existence. -They have become terribly repulsive to me, not on my own -account, but for the sake of others....</p> - -<p class="i2">My head is now better, but as it gets better it has to work -that much harder. March and the beginning of April are the -months when I work most, and I still continue to be under the -delusion that what I am writing is very important, though I -know that in a month's time I shall be ashamed to remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span> -that I thought so. Have you noticed that a new line has now -been started, and that everybody is writing poetry: very -bad poetry, but they all do it. Some five new poets have -introduced themselves to me lately.</p> - -<p>The dislike Tolstoy felt of the artificially stimulated war -fever (though, to do Katkóf and his friends justice, one must -admit that no European Power during the last fifty years -has had more justification for war than Russia had for -intervening in defence of the Slav population of Turkey) -was connected with the religious impulse that was beginning -to reshape his whole life; but it does not appear that he -actually disapproved of the war after Russia had officially -commenced it. What he primarily objected to was, that -private individuals should push the Government into a war.</p> - -<p>An influence which has left its traces in the latter part of -<i>Anna Karénina</i> (particularly Part VII, Chap. 21) was -Tolstoy's intercourse, about this time, with some of the -most prominent followers of Lord Radstock, who frequently -visited Russia and obtained considerable influence with a -number of people in certain aristocratic Petersburg circles. -One of these people, Count A. P. Bóbrinsky, who had been -Minister of Ways of Communication, made Tolstoy's -acquaintance and had animated religious discussions with -him. Both Bóbrinsky and Colonel Páshkof (another very -prominent Radstockite) for a while cherished hopes of -winning Tolstoy over to Evangelical Christianity, and -making him the spokesman of their cause. Tolstoy, as the -event proved, was quite capable of throwing himself whole-heartedly -into a religious movement; but he needed a faith -much more clear-cut than the scheme of Redemption by the -blood of Jesus: one that faced the facts of life, dealt -explicitly with the bread-and-butter problem, and told men -how to regard the fact that some people have to overtax -their strength without ever reaching an assured maintenance, -while others have a superabundance provided for them -from their birth without ever needing to do a stroke of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span> -work. His profound contempt for Evangelical doctrines -flashed out twenty years later, in the 17th Chapter of -Book II of <i>Resurrection</i>.</p> - -<p>It was a little before this that Fet told Tolstoy the -following story. Sauntering in a churchyard, he had come -upon an inscription which touched him more than any -epitaph he had ever read. The tombstone was in the form -of an obelisk of plain grey sandstone. On one of its four -sides were deeply cut the words:</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>Here is buried the body of the peasant girl Mary</i>;</p> - - -<p>on another side:</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>Here also is buried an infant of the female sex</i>.</p> - -<p>On the side opposite the name of the deceased stood these -words ill-spelt:</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>This, my dear, is the last adornment I can give thee</i>;</p> - -<p>and below stood the name of</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>Retired non-commissioned officer So-and-so</i>.</p> - -<p class="p2">In his next letter Tolstoy writes:</p> - -<p class="p2 rightm"><i>18 October 1876.</i></p> - -<p class="i2"><i>This, my dear, is the last adornment I can give thee</i> is -charming! I have told it twice, and each time my voice -has broken with tears.</p> - - -<h3>1877</h3> - -<p>In Tolstoy's next letter to Fet, dated 11th January, we -get a glimpse of one of the reasons that led this -strenuous worker to prefer a country life:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch</span>,—One does not strike or cut -off the head that owns its fault! I confess that I am quite at -fault towards you. But truly, in Moscow I am in a condition of -irresponsibility; my nerves are out of order, the hours turn to -minutes, and as though on purpose, the people I do not want -turn up and prevent my seeing those whom I do want.</p> - -<p>Among the people whom in his search for truth Tolstoy -did want to know, were some of the leading scientists of -that day—a day when many men thought that Darwin had -opened the gateway to a knowledge which would gradually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span> -solve the mysteries of life and death, the here and the -hereafter. The great literary fame Tolstoy now enjoyed -made it an easy matter to make such acquaintances.</p> - -<p>One of the scientists he got to know, was a celebrated -professor of Chemistry, A. M. Boutleróf, whom to his amazement -he found to be much concerned with table-turning and -spiritualism; occupations Tolstoy held in contempt.</p> - -<p>A letter to Fet, dated 14th April, gives some inkling of -what was going on in Tolstoy's mind at this time:</p> - -<p class="i2">I value every letter of yours, especially such as this last! -You would hardly believe how pleased I am at what you write -'On the existence of the Deity.' I agree with it all, and -should like to say much about it, but cannot in a letter, and am -too busy. It is the first time you have spoken to me about the -Deity—God. And I have long been thinking unceasingly about -that chief problem. Do not say that one cannot think about -it! One not only can, but must! In all ages the best, the -real people, have thought about it. And if we cannot think of -it as they did, we must find out <i>how</i>. Have you read <i>Pensées -de Pascal</i>—<i>i.e.</i> have you read it recently with a mature head-piece? -When (which God grant) you come to see me, we will -talk of many things, and I will give you that book. Were I -free from my novel—of which the end is already in type and I -am correcting the proofs—I would at once on receipt of your -letter have come to you.</p> - -<p>In the middle of this summer Tolstoy, bringing with him -N. Stráhof, paid Fet an unexpected visit. The latter -had at this time engaged as governess a Mlle. Oberlender, -an excellent pianist, and in his <i>Recollections</i> he tells us that -on this visit:</p> - -<p class="i2">The Count, a sensitive esthete by nature, was greatly taken -by the piano playing of Mlle. Oberlender. He sat down to play -duets with her, and they played through almost the whole of -Beethoven.</p> - -<p>Fet quotes Tolstoy's comment on the lady's performance:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span> -'When we were young, such pianists travelled across Europe -giving concerts. She reads any piece of music as you read -poetry, finding just the suitable expression for each note.'</p> - -<p>Towards the end of July, Tolstoy, accompanied by -N. Stráhof, visited for the first time the Monastery of -Óptin, which is situated in the Kaloúga Government, and is -about 135 miles to the west of Yásnaya. A very prominent -figure in the monastic world at that time was the <i>Staretz</i> -Father Ambrose, with whom Tolstoy had some long conversations. -Among others whose acquaintance Tolstoy made -there, was a monk who had formerly been an officer in -the Horse Guards. One of the most important of the -works Tolstoy left for publication after his death, is a remarkable -novel called <i>Father Sergius</i>, the hero of which is a -man of the world who becomes a monk, acquires a reputation -for sanctity, and then yields to temptation and ends as -an outcast. His visits to the Óptin Monastery, which -were repeated three times, supplied Tolstoy with material -which many years later he utilised in that work.</p> - -<p>At Óptin, Tolstoy had met his friend Prince Obolénsky, -to whom on his return journey he paid a visit at the latter's -estate of Beryósino. Here he renewed acquaintance with -N. Rubinstein, who was staying with Obolénsky, and whose -pianoforte playing he enjoyed intensely.</p> - -<p>A visit which much interested Tolstoy was paid him -about this time by an itinerant story-teller, expert in -folk-lore, wielding beautifully the simple language of -the people, such as Tolstoy loves and has utilised in his -stories. He took down in writing some of this traveller's -tales, and from them subsequently worked up into literary -form <i>What Men Live By</i>, <i>The Three Hermits</i> (included -in <i>Twenty-three Tales</i>), and some others. The root idea -of <i>What Men Live By</i> is that of an angel sent by God -to do penance on earth for a well-intentioned act of disobedience. -It seems that it is one of the most widely disseminated -of the world's legends, appearing and reappearing -in the literature of many countries through many centuries.</p> - -<p>In the latter part of 1877 a number of Turkish prisoners -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span> -of war were located in an abandoned sugar-factory between -Toúla and Yásnaya. Tolstoy visited them there, and found -that they were fairly well treated. Being himself greatly -concerned about religion, he naturally talked to them on -that subject, and was much impressed when he found that -each of them had a copy of the Koran in his kit.</p> - -<p>On 6th December another son, Andrew (Andréy), was born.</p> - -<p>All through this year, amid bustle and activity of various -kinds, spiritual problems continued to torment Tolstoy, and -his physical health began to show signs of the strain. Here -is a note to Fet, dated 2nd September:</p> - -<p class="i2">Just now I am constantly out hunting and am busy arranging -how to place our educational staff for the winter. I have been -to Moscow looking for a teacher and a tutor. To-day I feel -quite ill.</p> - - -<h3>1878</h3> - -<p>Nor did matters improve as the months went on, -for on 27th January he again writes:</p> - -<p class="i2">Most unfortunately your suppositions, dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch, -are wrong. Not only am I not at work, but the reason I -failed to answer you was because I have been ill all this time. -Lately I have even been in bed for some days. A chill in -various forms: teeth and side, and the result is that time goes -by—my best time—and I do no work.</p> - -<p>Then follows a touch showing how, in many matters, his -wife's mind was still attuned to his own, though she was not -sharing his spiritual struggles, and in the matter of the -education of the children there was already some disagreement -between them:</p> - -<p class="i2">On reading it I said to my wife, 'Fet's poem is charming, but -there is one word that is wrong.' She was nursing and bustling -about at the time; but at tea, having quieted down, she took up -the poem to read, and at once pointed out the words 'as the -Gods'—which I considered bad.</p> - -<p>On 25th March 1878 he writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">Last week, after seventeen years' absence, I went to Petersburg -to purchase some land in Samára from General B....</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span> -There I met a pair of Orlóf Generals who made me shudder: -it was just as though one were standing between two sets of -rails with goods trains passing. To enter into the minds of -these Generals, I had to recall the rare days of drunkenness -I have experienced, or the days of my very earliest childhood.</p> - -<p>After completing <i>Anna Karénina</i> Tolstoy again took up -<i>The Decembrists</i>, which he had put aside in favour of <i>War -and Peace</i> fourteen years before. As already mentioned, a -second cousin of Tolstoy's mother, Prince S. G. Volkónsky, -had been a prominent Decembrist; and Tolstoy had at his -disposal a number of family diaries and journals throwing -much light on the subject of that conspiracy. While in -Petersburg he made personal acquaintance with some of the -survivors of the movement, and also applied to the Commandant -of the Petropávlof Fortress—who happened to -be an officer under whom he had served in the Crimea—for -permission to see the Alexis dungeons, in which the Decembrists -had been confined. The Commandant received him -very politely, allowed him to see over other parts of the -fortress, but told him that, though any one could enter the -dungeons, only three persons in the whole Empire—the -Emperor, the Commandant, and the Chief of the Gendarmes—having -once entered them, could again leave them.</p> - -<p>Finally, after writing three fragments of it, Tolstoy -abandoned this novel, to which he had devoted much -time. The subject was one he could hardly have dealt -with frankly without getting into trouble with the Censor; -and he had been refused permission to study the State -Archives; but in the following passage Behrs gives another, -and a curiously characteristic, reason for Tolstoy's decision:</p> - -<p class="i2">He affirmed that the Decembrist insurrection was a result -of the influence of French nobles, a large number of whom had -emigrated to Russia after the French Revolution. As tutors -in aristocratic families, they educated the whole Russian -nobility, which explains the fact that many of the Decembrists -were Catholics. The belief that the movement was due to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span> -foreign influence, and was not a purely national one, sufficed to -prevent Tolstoy from sympathising with it.</p> - -<p>Another letter to Fet again shows the direction in which -Tolstoy's mind was working:</p> - -<p class="p2 rightm"><i>6 April 1878.</i></p> - -<p class="i2">I have received your delightful and long letter, dear Afanásy -Afanásyevitch. Do not praise me. Really you see in me too -much good, and in others too much bad. One thing in me is -good: that I understand you and therefore love you. But -though I love you as you are, I am always angry with you for -this, that 'Martha is anxious about many things; but one thing -is needful.' And in you that one thing is very strong, but -somehow you disdain it and are more concerned about arranging -a billiard room. Don't suppose that I refer to poems: though -I expect them to come too! But it is not of them I speak; -they will come in spite of the billiards; I am speaking of a conception -of the world which would make it unnecessary to be -angry at the stupidity of mortals. Were you and I to be pounded -together in a mortar and moulded into two people, we should -make a capital pair. But at present you are so attached to -the things of this life, that should they some day fail you, it -will go hard with you; while I am so indifferent to them, that -life becomes uninteresting, and I depress others by an eternal -pouring 'from void into vacuum'! Do not suppose that I have -gone mad; I am merely out of sorts, but hope you will love me -though I be black.</p> - -<p>The prolonged mental struggle through which Tolstoy -passed with great suffering during the years 1874-78, was -quite evident to those about him, at least from 1876 onward. -Not merely did he go regularly to church, and shut himself -up in his study morning and evening to pray, but his -former high spirits subsided, and his desire to become meek -and humble was plainly noticeable. One result of his -altered attitude was, that he felt keenly that it was wrong -to have an enemy. Accordingly he wrote Tourgénef to -that effect, and held out to him the right hand of friendship.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span>To this Tourgénef replied:</p> - -<p class="p2 rightm"><span class="smcap">Paris</span>, <i>8 May 1878</i>.</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dear Leo Nikoláyevitch</span>,—I only to-day received your letter, -addressed <i>poste-restante</i>. It gladdened and touched me very -much. With the greatest readiness will I renew our former -friendship, and I warmly press the hand you hold out to me. -You are quite right in supposing me to have no hostile -feelings towards you. If ever they existed they have long -since disappeared, and the recollection of you only remains as -of a man to whom I am sincerely attached, and of a writer -whose first steps it was my good fortune to be the first to hail, -and each new work from whom has always aroused in me the -liveliest interest. I am heartily glad of the cessation of the -misunderstandings that arose between us.</p> - -<p class="i2">I hope this summer to be in the Government of Orlóf, and in -that case we shall of course see one another. Till then, I wish -you all that is good, and once more press your hand in friendship.</p> - -<p>On 13th June, on the point of starting for Samára with -the elder children and their tutor, Tolstoy writes to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I have seldom so enjoyed a summer as this year, but a week -ago I caught cold and fell ill, and only to-day have I come to -life again.</p> - -<p>Somewhat later in the summer the Countess, with the -younger children, joined her husband in Samára.</p> - -<p>Hardly were the Tolstoys back from Samára before -Tourgénef wrote from Moscow that he would be in Toúla -on the following Monday, 7th August. Tolstoy, accompanied -by his brother-in-law, drove thither to meet him, and -brought him to Yásnaya, where he passed a couple of days. -Both writers were delighted to feel that their seventeen-year -disagreement was ended; and the Countess, who when -a girl had known Tourgénef well, was equally pleased to -welcome him to the house.</p> - -<p>A lady who was there at the time, tells us that the two -writers spent much of their time in philosophic and religious -conversation in Tolstoy's study, but:</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span> -When they came out into the sitting-room their conversation -became general and took a different turn. Tourgénef told -with pleasure of the villa Bougival which he had just bought -near Paris, and of its comfort and arrangements, saying, 'We -have built a charming conservatory, costing ten thousand -francs,' and 'we' did so-and-so and so-and-so, meaning by 'we,' -the Viardot family and himself.</p> - -<p class="i2">'Of an evening we often play <i>vint</i> [a game similar to bridge]—do -you?' he asked Tolstoy.</p> - -<p class="i2">'No, we never play cards,' replied the Count, and turned the -conversation to another topic.</p> - -<p class="i2">Knowing that he was fond of chess, the Countess Tolstoy -asked him to play a game with her eldest son, a lad of fifteen, -saying, 'He will all his life remember having played with -Tourgénef.'</p> - -<p class="i2">Tourgénef condescendingly agreed, and began a game, while -continuing to talk to us.</p> - -<p class="i2">'In Paris I often used to play chess and was considered a -good player. They called me <i>le chevalier de pion</i>. I am fond -of pawns.... Do you know the new phrase now in fashion -among the French—<i>vieux jeu</i>? Whatever you say, a Frenchman -replies, "<i>Vieux jeu!</i>"'</p> - -<p class="i2">'Eh! but one must not joke with you,' he exclaimed suddenly, -turning to his youthful opponent. 'You have all but done for me.'</p> - -<p class="i2">And he began to play carefully, and only won the game with -difficulty, for young Tolstoy really played chess excellently.</p> - -<p class="i2">At evening tea Tourgénef told how he had played the part -of a satyr at M<sup>me</sup> Viardot's private theatricals, and how some -of the audience had gazed at him with amazement. We knew -that he had himself written the piece (a sort of operetta) -for those theatricals, and knew also that Russians, both -abroad and at home, disapproved of his playing the fool for -M<sup>me</sup> Viardot's amusement; and we all felt uncomfortable. In -telling it he seemed to be trying to justify himself, but he soon -passed on to another theme, and we breathed more freely.</p> - -<p class="i2">He had the gift of words and spoke readily and smoothly, -but seemed to prefer narrating to conversing. He told us -of his confinement in the Hauptwerk of the Spássky Police-station -in Petersburg, for his article on the death of Gógol, -and he described how dull it was....</p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span> -Tolstoy also narrated, and I liked his stories better: they -were more strongly sketched, often humorous, and always -original. In them much was simple, unexpected and touching.... -I. S. Aksákof used to say, with reference to Tolstoy's -gigantic power, that he had 'a bear-like talent,' but I will add -that his soul is as meek 'as a dove,' and as enthusiastic as a -youth; and that the union of those two qualities explains the -new direction he has since taken, a direction which so distressed -Tourgénef.</p> - -<p class="i2">An hour before midnight Tourgénef rose.</p> - -<p class="i2">'It is time for me to go to the station,' said he.</p> - -<p class="i2">We all rose. The railway station was one-and-a-half miles -away, and Count Leo Nikoláyevitch drove with him, to see him -off.</p> - -<p>Behrs also writes of the same visit:</p> - -<p class="i2">At dinner Tourgénef told many stories, and to the delight of -the younger folk mimicked not only persons, but animals also. -Thus, placing one hand under the other, he depicted a fowl -waddling in the soup, and then imitated a hunting dog at a -loss. As I listened to him and watched his tricks I couldn't -help thinking that he evidently inherited something of the -talent for which one of his ancestors under Peter the Great -enjoyed no little fame.</p> - -<p>This was the last summer Behrs, now a young man of -twenty-three, passed with Tolstoy before taking up official -work in the Caucasus. His evidence fully supports that -of others who have seen Tolstoy in contact with children, -peasants or native races: to all of these Tolstoy extends -his charm of comprehension, consideration, and sympathy.</p> - -<p>Whenever Tolstoy went out with his gun and his dogs, -Behrs used to accompany him; and together they would -ride twenty-four miles from Yásnaya to visit Count Sergius -Tolstoy at Pirogóvo. Leo Tolstoy took his brother-in-law -on these visits, Behrs says, 'for my sake, if not for -his own, since he knew what pleasure it gave me to be -with him.' The remark he made when he heard that -Behrs had obtained an official appointment in the Caucasus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span> -is characteristic: 'You are too late for the Caucasus. The -whole country already stinks of officials.' Characteristic -too of the feeling Tolstoy inspires among those who know -him most intimately, is Behrs's concluding remark: 'I at -least am aware of nothing in his life that needs to be concealed.'</p> - -<p>At the beginning of September Tourgénef, on his return -from his estate, again visited Yásnaya, but he arrived at an -unfortunate time, when there was illness in the house, and -he paid but a short visit.</p> - -<p>One sees by a letter to Fet on 5th September that Tolstoy -still found himself unable to be quite intimate with his -fellow novelist:</p> - -<p class="i2">Tourgénef on his return journey came to see us and was -glad to receive your letter. He is still the same, and we know -the degree of nearness possible between us.</p> - -<p class="i2">I have a terrible desire to write something, but feel a depressing -doubt whether this is a false or a true appetite.</p> - -<p>The last sentence must refer to the <i>Confession</i>, most of -which was not written till the next year.</p> - -<p>In October he again wrote to Fet:</p> - -<p class="i2">I do not know how or in what spirit to begin to write to you, -dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch; any way, there are no words for -it but, 'I am to blame, I am to blame, and I am altogether to -blame!' Though it is always superfluous for apologisers to -explain their reasons, I will yet write mine because they are -true and explain my condition. For a month past, if not -more, I have been living amid the fumes not of external occurrences -(on the contrary we are by ourselves, living quietly) but -of what is going on inside: something I know not how to name. -I go out shooting, read, reply to questions put to me, eat, and -sleep, but can do nothing, not even write a letter, a score of -which have collected.</p> - -<p>Apparently while in bad spirits, he wrote to Tourgénef -asking him not to refer to his (Tolstoy's) writings—for the -latter replies on 15th October, saying: 'I am glad you are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span> -all physically well, and hope the "mental sickness" of which -you write has now passed.' He then continues:</p> - -<p class="i2">Although you ask me not to speak of your writings, I must -still remark that it has never happened to me to laugh at you -'even a little.' Some of your things pleased me very much; -others did not please me at all; while others again, such as -<i>The Cossacks</i> for instance, afforded me great pleasure and -excited my wonder. But what ground was there for laughter? -I thought you had long since got rid of such 'reflexive' -feelings. Why are they current only among authors, and not -among musicians, painters, and other artists? Probably because -in literary work more of that part of the soul is exposed, which -it is not quite convenient to show. But at our (already mature) -age as authors, it is time we were accustomed to it.</p> - -<p>This displeased Tolstoy, who in his next letter to Fet -expressed his vexation with Tourgénef who, I imagine, had -not intended to give offence:</p> - -<p class="rightm p2"><i>22 November 1878.</i></p> - -<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Dear Afanásy Afanásyevitch</span>,—I will go to Moscow and -have 'I am to blame' printed on my notepaper. But I don't -think I am to blame for not replying to the letter in which you -promised to come and see us. I remember my joy at that news, -and that I replied immediately. If not, still please don't punish -me, but come....</p> - -<p class="i2">Yesterday I received a letter from Tourgénef; and do you -know, I have decided that it will be better to 'keep further -away from him and from sin' [A common Russian saying]. He -is an unpleasant sort of quarrel-maker.</p> - -<p class="i2">My congratulations to you on your birthday. I will not in -future omit to congratulate you on the 23rd, and hope not to -forget it for the next dozen times. That will be enough for -either of us. <i>Au revoir!</i></p> - -<p>Fet was destined to live four years beyond the span -Tolstoy allotted him, and Tolstoy himself is still with us, -though more than thirty years have passed since that letter -was written; and what strenuous years they have been! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span> -How he has wrestled with life's greatest problems one after -another, and how he has flung down before the world his -opinions (right, wrong, or motley) on dogmatic theology, -Christ's Christianity, religion in general, economic and social -problems, famine, the employment of violence, war, conscription, -Government, patriotism, the sex problem, art, -science, food-reform and the use of stimulants and narcotics, -besides producing a series of simple stories for the people, -as well as more complex ones for the rest of society, three -plays, one great novel, and a stream of weighty and interesting -essays and letters which have poured forth from Yásnaya -in an increasing stream as the years went by; not to mention -works kept back for posthumous publication, at the mention -of which the literary world pricks up its ears!</p> - -<p>On 1st October 1878 Tourgénef wrote to Fet from -Bougival, again saying that he intended to translate <i>The -Cossacks</i> into French, and adding, 'It will give me great -pleasure to assist in acquainting the French public with the -best story that has been written in our language.'</p> - -<p>In another letter from Bougival in December, he -remarked:</p> - -<p class="i2">I was very glad to come together with Tolstoy, and I spent -three pleasant days with him; his whole family are very -sympathetic, and his wife is charming. He has grown very -quiet and has matured. His name begins to gain European -celebrity: we Russians have long known that he has no -rivals.</p> - -<p>The course of the story has swept me a little past -Tolstoy's fiftieth birthday—the point at which I intended -to close this first part of my work. Besides giving some -brief survey of his writings during his first twenty-five years -of authorship, all that now remains is to give a summary -of that remarkable work, his <i>Confession</i>, which shows us -vividly, though with some amount of involuntary artistic -heightening, what had been going on in his mind and soul -from 1874 to 1879, the year in which it was written.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> -By way of brief preface to his <i>Confession</i>, it will be in -place to say a few words about two different tendencies -which, each in its own way, influenced Tolstoy. On the -one hand there was the religious life of the people, with all -its Medieval traditions. Tolstoy had only to go a short -walk from his house to reach the highroad, on which pilgrims -going afoot to the shrines of the Saints could always -be met; and he had many a conversation with these pilgrims -at the rest-house they frequented. Among them there -were many to whom the things of this world were certainly -less precious than obedience to the will of God as they -understood it; and Tolstoy's stories show us how closely he -observed these people, and how near some of them came to -his soul. On the other hand he was influenced by the -quite modern and very remarkable movement that was at -this time beginning to make itself felt in Russia; a movement -having its roots in conditions of life which greatly -disturbed Tolstoy's own mind, and which took as one of -its watchwords the motto 'Towards the People'—a sentiment -quite in harmony with his own attitude.</p> - -<p>In 1875 public attention was aroused by the trial of the -Dolgoúshin group of propagandists; and the trial of 'The -Moscow 50,' in March 1877, revealed the fact that a number -of girls of wealthy families were voluntarily leading the life -of factory hands working fourteen hours a day in over-crowded -factories, that they might come into touch with -working people, to teach them, and to carry on a social -and political propaganda among them. Then followed the -historic trial of 'The 193' in 1878.</p> - -<p>These and many other indications showed that in spite of -the repressive measures of the Government, a steadily increasing -number of Russians felt (what Tolstoy also felt -strongly) that the existing order of society results in the -mass of the people having to live in conditions of blighting -ignorance and grinding poverty; while the parasitic minority -who live in plenty and sometimes in extravagant superfluity, -render no service at all equivalent to the cost of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span> -maintenance. The mere statement that those who had -received an education thanks to the work of the masses, -owe service to the masses in return, sufficed to rouse to -action some of the young men and women of that day. -They left their wealthy homes, lived the simplest lives, ran -fearful risks, and according to their lights—sometimes not -very clear ones—devoted themselves to the service of the -people.</p> - -<p>While this was going on around him, a man with such -a temperament as Tolstoy's, could not be at rest.</p> - -<p>Already in 1875 Mihaylóvsky had published a remarkable -series of articles on <i>The Right and Left Hand of Count -Tolstoy</i>, in which he pointed out that that author's works -reveal the clash of contrary ideals and tendencies in the -writer's soul, and that especially his educational articles -contain ideas quite in conflict with certain tendencies -noticeable in <i>War and Peace</i>. With remarkable prevision -Mihaylóvsky predicted an inevitable crisis in Tolstoy's life, -and added:</p> - -<p class="i2">One asks oneself what such a man is to do, and how he is to -live?... I think an ordinary man in such a position would end -by suicide or drunkenness; but a man of worth will seek for -other issues—and of these there are several.</p> - -<p>One of these he suggested would be, to write for the people -(Tolstoy's <i>Readers</i> had already been published) or to write so -as to remind 'Society' that its pleasures and amusements -are not those of the mass of mankind, and thus to arouse -the latent feelings of justice in some who now forget the -debt they owe to their fellows.</p> - -<p>In fact, the trial of 'The 193' or the movement from -which it arose, had a vital, though indirect, influence on -Tolstoy, who at this time had engaged V. I. Alexéyef, -a graduate of Petersburg University, as mathematical -master for his son. Alexéyef had been a member of the -Tchaykóvsky group which carried on an educational propaganda -in elementary Socialism in the early '70's. The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span> -activities of this group were so restricted, and they were so -hampered by the police, that some of its members, feeling -a need of freer activity, migrated to Kansas, where for two -years they carried on an agricultural colony. Dissensions -arose among them, and their experiment failed. Alexéyef -returned to Russia; Tchaykóvsky settled in England, -where he spent many years, and only returned to Russia -after the amnesty of 1905, to be again arrested and to -spend more than a year in prison awaiting a trial which -ended in his acquittal. Tolstoy noticed that Alexéyef -was a man who shaped his life in accord with his beliefs, -and he respected him accordingly, and through him made -acquaintance with some of the best representatives of -the immature Socialist movement then brewing in Russia. -We have here a remarkable example of the indirect -way in which thoughts influence the world. Auguste -Comte wrote a philosophy. Having filtered through the -minds of G. H. Lewes and J. S. Mill, it reached Nicholas -Tchaykóvsky when he was a schoolboy of fourteen in the -Seventh Gymnasium in Petersburg. 'It fascinated me to -such an extent,' says he in the reminiscences contributed to -G. H. Perris's interesting book, <i>Russia in Revolution</i>, 'that, -while sitting in school, I longed to get back to our lodgings -and to my chosen reading. The more I progressed, the more -I was absorbed. This study powerfully affected my mind -and systematised my ideas.' A few years later Tchaykóvsky, -having read much meanwhile, formed his group, which -sowed the seeds of changes yet to come. Progress, however, -was very slow, and he felt 'the ineffectiveness of ordinary -political and socialistic propaganda among a deeply religious -peasantry, still hopeful of benefits from above.' This -forced him to reconsider the whole situation. 'I met,' -adds he, 'some friends with whom I began to work upon -the rather Utopian idea of formulating a new religion, -and, for the sake of more effective experiment, we were -soon compelled to transfer ourselves with this stupendous -mission, to the steppes of Kansas.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span> -Wishing to transform society, Tchaykóvsky had seen the -need of some systematic outlook on life—'a new religion,' in -fact. Dissatisfied with his own outlook on life, Tolstoy -was seeking a new religion, and when he found it, it led -him to demand great changes in society. The mature -novelist and the young propagandist, who have never met in -the flesh, had therefore much in common; though Tolstoy -dislikes the works of Comte and Mill, which had done so -much for Tchaykóvsky, and can hardly speak of them with -tolerance (except Mill's <i>Autobiography</i>, which interests him). -Detesting the methods of violence to which those who -succeeded Tchaykóvsky felt themselves driven, Tolstoy could -still not doubt the sincerity of the faith that actuated most -of them; for they had all to lose and nothing to gain by -joining the revolutionary movement. Sophie Peróvsky, -one of 'the 193' (subsequently hanged in Petersburg for -taking part in the assassination of Alexander II), was the -daughter of the Governor-General of that city, and -was a niece of the Minister of Education. Demetrius -Lisogoúb, a landowner, devoted his whole fortune of -some Ł40,000 to the movement; and was hanged in -Odessa. Prince Peter Kropótkin risked his all to give -lessons to workmen; and escaped abroad, having lost -position, fortune, and the right to live in his native land. -Tolstoy, an older man, with a strong character and -definite views of his own on many points, could not join -the Socialist movement, but that he was influenced by it -is beyond doubt.</p> - -<p>The state of Russian life was indeed such that men of sensitive -consciences could not be at rest (as, indeed, when and -where in the wide world can they?), and the work Tolstoy -had already done, marked him out as one in whose soul the -struggle which was moving others, would assuredly be -fought out strenuously. No one however, and certainly not -he himself, as yet knew what effect that crisis would have -upon him, or what his course of life would be in the years -that were to come.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER X</h3> - -<p>Besides books mentioned in last chapter, information relating to -this period is contained in a number of magazines and newspaper -articles, of which the following are the most important.</p> - -<p>On the Education dispute see:</p> - -<p><i>Moskov. Eparhial. Ved.</i>, October 1874.</p> - -<p><i>Rousskiya Vedomosti</i>, 1894, No. 31.</p> - -<p>N. K. Mihaylovsky's <i>Zapiski Profana</i>, and -E. Schuyler in <i>Rousskaya Starina</i>, October 1870, and in <i>Scribner's -Magazine</i>, May and June, 1889.</p> - -<p>About Samara Famine, etc., see: -A. S. Prougavin in <i>Obrazovaniye</i>, Nov. 1902.</p> - -<p>On Tourgenef's visit to Yasnaya see: -<i>Tobolskiya Goubern. Vedomosti</i>, 1893, No. 26.</p> - -<p>The <i>Rousskoye Obozreniye</i>, 1896, contains a letter from Tolstoy to -Fet.</p> - -<p>The <i>Vestnik Evropy</i>, June 1904, contains M. Zaharina's <i>Vospominaniya -gr. A. A. Tolstaya</i>.</p> - -<p><i>Zhisn P. I. Tschaikovskavo.</i></p> - -<p><i>Pervoe Sobranie pisem Tourgeneva, 1840-1883</i>; Petersburg, 1884.</p> - -<p>P. A. Sergeyenko in <i>Niva</i>, No. 8, 1906.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap11">CHAPTER XI<br /> -CONFESSION</h2> - -<p class="i2">What is the meaning of life? Thoughts of suicide. The -traveller in the well. Schopenhauer and Solomon. Four -ways of meeting the problem. The peasants' answer. The -finite linked to the infinite. Faith essential. Faiths that -obscure. Why life seemed meaningless. The search for -God. The infallibility of the Church. Rites and prayers. -Communion. The lives of the Saints. The Orthodox and the -Sectarians. War. The need to unravel truth from error.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">This</span> chapter is a summary of Tolstoy's <i>Confession</i>,<a name="FNanchor_54" id="FNanchor_54" href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> or -'Introduction to a Criticism of Dogmatic Theology and to -an Investigation of the Christian Teachings,' as the Russian -title ran, from the first pages of which I have already quoted -freely in the preceding chapters. I have kept as much to -Tolstoy's words as possible, but having to condense, I have -not only omitted much, but have also paraphrased some -passages to avoid repetition. The plan I have adopted, -since this is a <i>Life</i> and not a theological treatise, has been -to cut down to a mere skeleton the abstract argument of -Tolstoy's <i>Confession</i>, while giving almost in full what he -says about his own experience.</p> - -<p>Many men, at the age of puberty, or at any rate while -their minds were still maturing, have experienced the change -known as 'Conversion.' That is to say, they have more or -less suddenly turned round and looked at life from a fresh -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span> -point of view: what in their nature had been latent or -secondary has become dominant and primary, and things -temporal and material have become subordinate to things -spiritual and eternal.</p> - -<p>What is unusual about the story of Tolstoy's conversion -is that it came so late in life and so gradually, and that -the intellect played so large a part in it.</p> - -<p>Some men take to religion at the prompting of the heart, -others at the prompting of the brain; and Tolstoy belongs to -the latter category, not from lack of heart, but because strong -as are his emotions, his intellectual power is stronger still.</p> - -<p>His <i>Confession</i> was written in 1879, and in it he says:</p> - -<p>Five years ago something very strange began to happen -to me: At first I experienced moments of perplexity and -arrest of life, as though I did not know how to live or what -to do; and I felt lost and became dejected. But this passed, -and I went on living as before. Then these moments of -perplexity began to recur oftener and oftener, and always -in the same form. They were always expressed by the -questions: What's it for? What does it lead to?</p> - -<p>At first it seemed to me that these were aimless and -irrelevant questions. I thought that it was all well known, -and that if I should ever wish to deal with the solution, it -would not cost me much effort; just at present I had no -time for it, but when I wanted to I should be able to find -the answer. The questions, however, began to repeat themselves -frequently, and more and more insistently to demand -replies; and like drops of ink always falling on one place, -they ran together into one black blot.</p> - -<p>That occurred which happens to every one sickening with -a mortal internal disease. At first trivial signs of indisposition -appear, to which the sick man pays no attention; -then these signs reappear more and more often, and merge -into one uninterrupted period of suffering. The suffering -increases, and before the sick man can look round, what he -took for a mere indisposition has already become more important -to him than anything else in the world—it is death!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span> -That was what happened to me. I understood that it -was no casual indisposition, but something very important, -and that if these questions constantly repeated themselves, -it would be necessary to answer them. And I tried to do -so. The questions seemed such stupid simple childish -questions; but as soon as I touched them and tried to solve -them, I at once became convinced (1) that they are not -childish and stupid, but the most important and the deepest -of life's questions; and (2) that, try as I would, I could not -solve them. Before occupying myself with my Samára -estate, the education of my son, or the writing of a book, -I had to know <i>why</i> I was doing it. As long as I did not -know why, I could do nothing, and could not live. Amid -the thoughts of estate management which greatly occupied -me at that time, the question would suddenly occur to me: -'Well, you will have 16,000 acres of land in Samára Government -and 300 horses, and what next?'... And I was -quite disconcerted, and did not know what to think. Or, -when considering my plans for the education of my children, -I would say to myself: What for? Or when considering -how the peasants might be prosperous, I suddenly said to -myself, 'But what business is it of mine?' Or when thinking -of the fame my works would bring me, I said to myself, -'Very well: you will be more famous than Gógol or -Poúshkin or Shakespear or Moličre, or than all the writers -in the world—and what will it lead to?' And I could -find no reply at all. The questions would not wait, they -had to be answered at once, and if I did not answer them, it -was impossible to live. But there was no answer.</p> - -<p>I felt that what I had been standing on had broken down, -and that I had nothing left under my feet. What I had -lived on, no longer existed; and I had nothing left to live on.</p> - -<p>My life came to a standstill. I could breathe, eat, drink -and sleep, and I could not help doing these things; but -there was no life, for there were no wishes the fulfilment of -which I could consider reasonable.... Had a fairy come -and offered to fulfil my desires, I should not have known -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span> -what to ask.... If in moments of intoxication I felt -something which I cannot call a wish, but a habit left by -former wishes, in sober moments I knew this to be a -delusion, and that there is really nothing to wish for. I -could not even wish to know the truth, for I guessed in -what it consisted. The truth was that life is meaningless. -I had, as it were, lived, lived, and walked, walked, till I had -come to a precipice and saw clearly that there was nothing -ahead of me but destruction. It was impossible to stop, -impossible to go back, and impossible to close my eyes or -avoid seeing that there was nothing ahead but suffering and -real death—complete annihilation.</p> - -<p>It had come to this, that I, a healthy, fortunate man, felt I -could no longer live: some irresistible power impelled me to -rid myself one way or other of life. I cannot say I <i>wished</i> to -kill myself. The power which drew me away from life was -stronger, fuller, and more widespread than any mere wish.</p> - -<p>The thought of self-destruction now came to me as -naturally as thoughts of how to improve my life had come -formerly. And it was so seductive that I had to be wily -with myself, lest I should carry it out too hastily: 'If I -cannot unravel matters, there will always be time.' And it -was then that I, a man favoured by fortune, hid a cord -from myself, lest I should hang myself from the crosspiece -of the partition in my room, where I undressed alone every -evening; and I ceased to go out shooting with a gun, lest -I should be tempted by so easy a way of ending my life. -I did not myself know what I wanted: I feared life, desired -to escape from it; yet still hoped something of it.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="p402"><img src="images/p402.jpg" width="525" -height="732" alt="" title="" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<span class="smcap">Tolstoy's Library.</span><br /> -<span class="small">(FORMERLY HIS STUDY AND DRESSING-ROOM.) SHOWING THE WOODEN CROSS-PIECE -FROM WHICH HE WISHED TO HANG HIMSELF.</span> -</div></div> - -<p>And all this befell me at a time when all around me I -had what is considered complete good fortune. I was not -yet fifty; I had a good wife who loved me and whom I -loved; good children, and a large estate which without much -effort on my part improved and increased. I was respected -by my relations and acquaintances more than at any previous -time. I was praised by others, and without much self-deception -could consider that my name was famous. And -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span> -far from being insane or mentally unwell,—on the contrary -I enjoyed a strength of mind and body such as I have -seldom met with among men of my kind: physically I -could keep up with the peasants at mowing, and mentally -I could work for eight to ten hours at a stretch without -experiencing any ill results from such exertion....</p> - -<p>My mental condition presented itself to me in this way: -my life is a stupid and spiteful joke some one has played -on me. Though I did not acknowledge a 'some one' who -created me, yet that form of representation—that some one -had played an evil and stupid joke on me by placing me -in the world—was the form of expression that suggested -itself most naturally to me.</p> - -<p>Involuntarily it appeared to me that there, somewhere, -is some one who amuses himself by watching how I live for -thirty or forty years: learning, developing, maturing in -body and mind, and how—having now with matured mental -powers reached the summit of life, from which it all lies -before me, I stand on that summit—like an arch-fool—seeing -clearly that there is nothing in life, and that there -has been and will be nothing. And he is amused....</p> - -<p>But whether that 'some one' laughing at me existed or not, -I was none the better off. I could give no reasonable meaning -to any single action, or to my whole life. I was only -surprised that I could have avoided understanding this from -the very beginning—it has been so long known to all. To-day -or to-morrow sickness and death will come (they have -come already) to those I love or to me; nothing will remain -but stench and worms. Sooner or later my deeds, whatever -they may have been, will be forgotten, and I shall not exist. -Then why go on making any effort?... How can man -fail to see this? And how go on living? That is what is -surprising! One can only live when one is intoxicated with -life; as soon as one is sober it is impossible not to see that -it is all a mere fraud and a stupid fraud! That is precisely -what it is: there is nothing either amusing or witty about -it; it is simply cruel and stupid.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> -There is an Eastern fable, told long ago, of a traveller -overtaken on a plain by an enraged beast. Escaping from -the beast he leaps into a dry well, but sees at the bottom of -the well a dragon that has opened its jaws to swallow him. -And the unfortunate man, not daring to climb out lest he -should be destroyed by the enraged beast, and not daring -to leap to the bottom of the well lest he should be eaten by -the dragon, seizes a twig growing in a crack in the well and -clings to it. His hands are growing weaker, and he feels he -will soon have to resign himself to the destruction that -awaits him above or below; but still he clings on; and he -sees that two mice, a black and a white one, go regularly -round and round the stem of the twig to which he is -clinging, and gnaw at it. And soon the twig itself will -snap and he will fall into the dragon's jaws. The traveller -sees this and knows that he will inevitably perish; but -while still hanging he looks around and finds some drops -of honey on the leaves of the twig and reaches them with -his tongue and licks them. So I too clung to the twig of -life, knowing that the dragon of death was inevitably awaiting -me, ready to tear me to pieces; and I could not understand -why I had fallen into such torment. I tried to -lick the honey which formerly consoled me; but the honey -no longer gave me pleasure, and the white and black mice -of day and night gnawed at the branch by which I hung. -I saw the dragon clearly, and the honey no longer tasted -sweet. And this is not a fable, but the real unanswerable -truth intelligible to all.</p> - -<p>The deception of the joys of life which formerly allayed -my terror of the dragon, now no longer deceives me. No -matter how much I may be told: 'You cannot understand -the meaning of life, so do not think about it, but live,' -I can no longer do it: I have already done it too long. -I cannot now help seeing day and night going round and -bringing me to death. That is all I see, for that alone -is true. All else is false.</p> - -<p>The two drops of honey which diverted my eyes from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span> -the cruel truth longer than the rest: my love of family, and -of writing—art as I called it—were no longer sweet to me.</p> - -<p>Family ... said I to myself. But my family: wife and -children—are also human. They too are placed as I am: -they must either live in a lie, or see the terrible truth. -Why should they live? Why should I love them, guard -them, bring them up, or watch them? That they may come -to the despair that I feel, or else be stupid? Loving them, -I cannot hide the truth from them: each step in knowledge -leads them to that truth. And the truth is death.</p> - -<p>'Art, poetry?'... Under the influence of success and -the praise of men, I had long assured myself that this was -a thing one could do though death was drawing near—death -which destroys all things, including my work and its -remembrance; but I soon saw that that too was a fraud. -It was plain to me that art is an adornment to life, an -allurement to life. But life had lost its attraction for me; -so how could I attract others? As long as I was not living -my own life, but was borne on the waves of some other life—as -long as I believed that life had a meaning, though one -I could not express—the reflection of life in poetry and art -of all kinds, afforded me pleasure: it was pleasant to look -at life in the mirror of art. But when I began to seek the -meaning of life, and felt the necessity of living on my own -account, that mirror became for me unnecessary, superfluous, -ridiculous, or painful. I could no longer soothe myself with -what I saw in the mirror, for what I saw was, that my -position was stupid and desperate. It was all very well to -enjoy the sight when in the depth of my soul I believed -that my life had a meaning. Then the play of lights—comic, -tragic, touching, beautiful and terrible—in life, -amused me. But when I knew life to be meaningless and -terrible, the play in the mirror could no longer amuse me. -No sweetness of honey could be sweet to me when I saw -the dragon, and saw the mice gnawing away my support.</p> - -<p>Nor was that all. Had I simply understood that life has -no meaning, I could have borne it quietly, knowing that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span> -that was my lot. But I could not satisfy myself with that. -Had I been like a man living in a wood from which he -knows there is no exit, I could have lived; but I was like -one lost in a wood who, horrified at having lost his way, -rushes about, wishing to find the road, yet knows that each -step he takes confuses him more and more; and still cannot -help rushing about.</p> - -<p>It was indeed terrible. And to rid myself of the terror, I -wished to kill myself. I experienced terror at what awaited -me—knew that that terror was even worse than the position -I was in; but still I could not patiently await the end. -However convincing the argument might be that, in any -case, some vessel in my heart would give way, or something -would burst and all would be over, I could not patiently -await that end. The horror of darkness was too great, and -I wished to free myself from it as quickly as possible by -noose or bullet. That was the feeling which drew me most -strongly towards suicide.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>'But perhaps I have overlooked something, or misunderstood -something? It cannot be that this condition of despair -is natural to man!' thought I, and as a perishing man -seeks safety, I sought some way of escape.</p> - -<p>I sought everywhere; and thanks to a life spent in learning, -and thanks also to the relations I had with the scholarly -world, I had access to scientists and scholars in all branches -of knowledge, and they readily showed me all their knowledge, -not only in books, but also in conversation, so that -I had at my disposal all that knowledge has to say on this -question of life....</p> - -<p>The question which at the age of fifty brought me to the -verge of suicide, was the simplest of questions lying in the -soul of every man, from the foolish child to the wisest elder: -it was a question without answering which one cannot live, as -I had found by experience. It was, What will come of what -I am doing to-day or shall do to-morrow—What will come -of my whole life?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span></p> - -<p>Differently expressed, the question is: Why should I live, -why wish for anything, or do anything? It can also be expressed -thus: Is there any meaning in life, that the inevitable -death awaiting one, does not destroy? All human -knowledge I found divided into two kinds. One kind, such -as chemistry and mathematics and the exact sciences, did -not deal with my question. They were interesting, attractive, -and wonderfully definite, but made no attempt to -solve the question; while on the other hand the speculative -sciences, culminating in metaphysics, dealt with the question, -but supplied no satisfactory answer.</p> - -<p>Where philosophy does not lose sight of the essential -question, its answer is always one and the same: an answer -given by Socrates, Schopenhauer, Solomon and Buddha.</p> - -<p>'We approach truth only inasmuch as we depart from -life,' said Socrates when preparing for death. 'For what do -we who love truth, strive after in life? To free ourselves -from the body, and from all the evil that is caused by the -body! If so, then how can we fail to be glad when death -comes to us?'</p> - -<p>'The wise man seeks death all his life, and therefore does -not fear death.'</p> - -<p>And Schopenhauer also says that life is an evil; and -Solomon (or whoever wrote the works attributed to him) -says:</p> - -<p>'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. What profit hath man -of all his labour under the sun?... There is no remembrance -of former things, neither shall there be any remembrance -of things that are to come, with those that shall -come after....</p> - -<p>'Therefore I hated life, because the work that is wrought -under the sun is grievous to me; for all is vanity and vexation -of spirit.'</p> - -<p>And Sakya Muni when he learnt what age and sickness -and death are, could find no consolation in life, and decided -that life is the greatest of evils; and he devoted all the -strength of his soul to free himself from it, and to free<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span> -others; and to do this so that even after death life shall not -be renewed any more, but be completely destroyed at its -very roots. So speaks all the wisdom of India.</p> - -<p>These then are the direct replies that human wisdom -gives, when it replies to the question of life:</p> - -<p>'The life of the body is an evil and a lie. Therefore the -destruction of the life of the body is a blessing, and we -should desire it,' says Socrates.</p> - -<p>'Life is that which should not be—an evil; and the -passage into Nothingness is the only good in life,' says -Schopenhauer.</p> - -<p>'All that is in the world: folly and wisdom and riches -and poverty and mirth and grief—are vanity and emptiness. -Man dies and nothing is left of him. And that is stupid,' -says Solomon.</p> - -<p>'To live in the consciousness of the inevitability of suffering, -of becoming enfeebled, of old age and of death, is -impossible—we must free ourselves from life, from all possible -life,' says Buddha.</p> - -<p>And what these strong minds said, has been said and -thought and felt by millions upon millions of people like -them. And I have thought it and felt it.</p> - -<p>One cannot deceive oneself. It is all—vanity! Happy is -he who has not been born: death is better than life, and one -must free oneself from life.</p> - -<p>Then I began to consider the lives of the men of my own -kind; and I found that they met the problem in one or -other of four ways.</p> - -<p>The first way was that of ignorance. Some people—mostly -women, or very young or very dull people—have not -yet understood the question of life; but I, having understood -it, could not again shut my eyes.</p> - -<p>The second way was that of the Epicureans, expressed by -Solomon when he said: 'Then I commended mirth, because -a man hath no better thing under the sun, than to eat, and -to drink, and to be merry.'</p> - -<p>That is the way in which the majority of people of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span> -our circle make life possible for themselves. Their circumstances -furnish them with more of welfare than of hardship, -and their moral dullness makes it possible for them to -forget that the advantage of their position is an accidental -advantage, and that not every one can have a thousand -wives and a thousand palaces like Solomon, and that for -every man with a thousand wives there are a thousand without -wives, and that for each palace there are a thousand -people who have to build it in the sweat of their brows; and -that the accident that has to-day made me a Solomon, may -to-morrow make me Solomon's slave. The dullness of these -people's imaginations enables them to forget what gave -no peace to Buddha—the inevitability of sickness, age and -death, which to-day or to-morrow will destroy all these -pleasures. I could not imitate these people: I had not -their dullness of imagination, and I could not artificially -produce it in myself.</p> - -<p>The third escape is that of strength and energy. It consists -in understanding that life is an evil and an absurdity, -and in destroying it. It is a way adopted by a few exceptionally -strong and consistent people. I saw that it was -the worthiest way of escape, and I wished to adopt it.</p> - -<p>The fourth escape is that of weakness. It consists in -seeing the truth of the situation, and yet clinging to life -as though one still hoped something from it; and I found -myself in that category.</p> - -<p>To live like Solomon and Schopenhauer, knowing that life -is a stupid joke played upon us, and still to go on living: -washing oneself, dressing, dining, talking and even writing -books, was to me repulsive and tormenting, but I remained -in that position.</p> - -<p>I now see that if I did not kill myself, it was due to some -dim consciousness of the invalidity of my thoughts. And -I began to feel, rather than argue, in this way: 'I, my -reason, has acknowledged life to be unreasonable. If there -be no higher reason (and there is not: nothing can prove -that there is) then reason is the creator of life for me. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span> -reason did not exist, there would be for me no life. How -can reason deny life, when it is the creator of life? Or to -put it the other way: were there no life, my reason would -not exist; therefore reason is life's son. Life is all. Reason -is its fruit, yet reason denies life itself!' I felt that there -was something wrong here.</p> - -<p>Nothing prevents our denying life by suicide. Well then, -kill yourself, and cease discussing. If life displeases you, -kill yourself! You live, and cannot understand the meaning -of life—then finish it; and do not fool about in life, saying -and writing that you do not understand it. You have come -into good company, where people are contented and like -what they are doing: if you find it dull and repulsive—go -away!</p> - -<p>Indeed, what are we who are convinced of the necessity of -suicide yet do not decide to commit it, but the weakest, -most inconsistent, and to put it plainly, the stupidest of -men, fussing about with our own stupidity as a fool fusses -about with a painted hussy?</p> - -<p>'There is something wrong,' said I to myself; but what -was wrong, I could in no way make out. It was long before -the fog began to clear, and I began to be able to restate my -position.</p> - -<p>It had seemed to me that the narrow circle of rich learned -and leisured people to whom I belonged, formed the whole -of humanity, and that the milliards of others who have lived -and are living, were cattle of some sort—not real people.... -And it was long before it dawned upon me to ask: 'But -what meaning is, and has been, given to their lives by all the -milliards of common folk who live and have lived in the -world?'</p> - -<p>I long lived in this state of lunacy, which in fact if not in -words is particularly characteristic of us Liberal and learned -people. But whether the strange physical affection I have -for the real labouring people compelled me to understand -them and to see that they are not so stupid as we suppose; -or whether it was due to the sincerity of my conviction that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span> -I could know nothing beyond the fact that the best I could -do was to hang myself, at any rate I instinctively felt that -if I wished to live and understand the meaning of life, -I must seek this meaning not among those who have lost -it and wish to kill themselves, but among those milliards of -the past and the present who know it, and who support -the burden of their own lives and of ours also.</p> - -<p>And on examining the matter I saw that the milliards of -mankind always have had and still have a knowledge of the -meaning of life, but <i>that</i> knowledge is their faith, which -I could not but reject. 'It is God, one and three, the -creation in six days, the devils and angels, and all the rest -that I cannot accept as long as I retain my reason,' said I to -myself.</p> - -<p>My position was terrible. I knew I could find nothing -along the path of reasonable knowledge, except a denial of -life; and in faith I could find nothing but a denial of reason, -still more impossible to me than a denial of life.</p> - -<p>Finally I saw that my mistake lay in ever expecting an -examination of finite things to supply a meaning to life. -The finite has no ultimate meaning apart from the infinite. -The two must be linked together before an answer to life's -problems can be reached.</p> - -<p>It had only appeared to me that knowledge gave a definite -answer—Schopenhauer's answer: that life has no meaning, -and is an evil. On examining the matter further, I understood -that the reply is not positive: it was only my feeling -that made it seem so. The reply, strictly expressed as the -Brahmins and Solomon and Schopenhauer express it, amounts -only to an indefinite answer, like the reply given in mathematics -when instead of solving an equation we find we -have solved an identity: X = X, or 0 = 0. The answer is, -that life is nothing. So that philosophic knowledge merely -asserts that it cannot solve the question, and the solution -remains, as far as it is concerned, indefinite. And I understood, -further, that however unreasonable and monstrous -might be the replies given by faith, they had this advantage,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span> -that they introduce into each reply a relation between the -finite and the infinite, without which relation no reply is -possible.</p> - -<p>Whichever way I put the question, that relation appeared -in the answer. How am I to live?—According to the law of -God. What real result will come of my life?—Eternal -torment or eternal bliss. What meaning has life, that -death does not destroy?—Union with the eternal God: -heaven.</p> - -<p>Faith still remained to me as irrational as it was before, -but I could not but admit that it alone gives mankind a -reply to the questions of life; and that consequently it makes -life possible.</p> - -<p>Where there is life, there, since man began, faith has -made life possible for him; and the chief outline of that -faith is everywhere and always one and the same. Faith -does not consist in agreeing with what some one has said, as -is usually supposed; faith is a knowledge of the meaning of -human life in consequence of which man does not destroy -himself, but lives. Faith is the strength of life. If a man -lives he believes in something. If he does not see and -recognise the visionary nature of the finite, then he -believes in the finite; if he understands the visionary nature -of the finite, he must believe in the infinite. Without faith -he cannot live.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>What am I?—A part of the infinite. In those few words -lies the whole problem.</p> - -<p>I began dimly to understand that in the replies given by -faith, is stored up the deepest human wisdom.</p> - -<p>I understood this; but it made matters no better for me.</p> - -<p>I was now ready to accept any faith, if only it did not -demand of me a direct denial of reason—which would be a -falsehood. And I studied Buddhism and Mohammedanism -from books, and most of all, I studied Christianity both from -books and from living people.</p> - -<p>Naturally I first of all turned to the Orthodox of my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span> -circle, to people who were learned: to Church theologians, -the monks, to the theologians of the newest shade, and even -to the Evangelicals<a name="FNanchor_55" id="FNanchor_55" href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> who profess salvation by belief in the -Redemption. And I seized on these believers and questioned -them as to their beliefs, and their understanding of the -meaning of life.</p> - -<p>But in spite of my readiness to make all possible concessions, -I saw that what they gave out as their faith did -not explain the meaning of life, but obscured it.</p> - -<p>I remember the painful feeling of fear of being thrown -back into my former state of despair, after the hope I often -and often experienced in my intercourse with these people.</p> - -<p>The more fully they explained to me their doctrines, the -more clearly did I see their error.... It was not that in -their doctrines they mixed many unnecessary and unreasonable -things with the Christian truths that had always -been near to me: that was not what repelled me. I was -repelled by the fact that these people's lives were like my -own, with only this difference—that such a life did not -correspond to the principles they expounded in their -teachings.</p> - -<p>No arguments could convince me of the truth of their -faith. Only deeds which showed that they saw a meaning -in life, which made what was so dreadful to me—poverty -sickness and death—not dreadful to them, could convince -me. And such deeds I did not see among the various -bodies of believers in our circle. On the contrary, I saw -such deeds done by people of our circle who were the -most unbelieving, but never by the so-called believers of our -circle.<a name="FNanchor_56" id="FNanchor_56" href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span></p> - -<p>And I understood that the belief of these people was not -the faith I sought, and that their faith is not a real faith, -but an Epicurean consolation in life.</p> - -<p>And I began to draw near to the believers among the -poor simple unlettered folk: pilgrims, monks, sectarians and -peasants. Among them, too, I found a great deal of superstition -mixed with the Christian truths; but their superstitions -seemed a necessary and natural part of their lives.... -And I began to look well into the life and faith of -these people, and the more I considered it, the more I -became convinced that they have a real faith, which is a -necessity to them and alone gives their life a meaning and -makes it possible for them to live.... In contrast with what -I had seen in our circle, where the whole of life is passed in -idleness and amusements and dissatisfaction, I saw that the -whole life of these people was passed in heavy labour, and -that they were content with life.... While we think it -terrible that we have to suffer and die, these folk live and -suffer, and approach death with tranquillity, and in most -cases gladly.</p> - -<p>And I learnt to love these people. The more I came to -know their life the more I loved them, and the easier it -became for me to live. So I went on for about two years, -and a change took place in me which had long been preparing, -and the promise of which had always been in me. The -life of our circle, the rich and learned, not merely became -distasteful to me but lost all meaning for me; while the -life of the whole labouring people, the whole of mankind -who produce life, appeared to me in its true light. I -understood that <i>that</i> is life itself, and that the meaning -given to that life is true; and I accepted it.</p> - -<p>I then understood that my answer to the question, 'What -is life?' when I said that life is 'evil,' was quite correct.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span> -The only mistake was, that that answer referred to <i>my</i> life, -but not to life in general. My life, a life of indulgence and -desires, was meaningless and evil.... And I understood -the truth, which I afterwards found in the Gospels, that -men love darkness rather than the light because their deeds -are evil; and that to see things as they are, one must think -and speak of the life of humanity, and not of the life of the -minority who are parasites on life.</p> - -<p>And indeed, the bird lives so that it must fly, collect food -and build its nest; and when I see the bird doing that, I -joy in its joy. The goat, hare and wolf live so that they -must feed themselves, and propagate and feed their families, -and when they do so, I feel firmly assured that they are -happy and that their life is a reasonable one. And what -does man do? He should earn a living as the beasts do, -but with this difference—that he would perish if he did it -alone; he has to procure it not for himself but for all. -When he does <i>that</i>, I have a firm assurance that he is happy -and that his life is reasonable. And what had I done -during the whole thirty years of my conscious life? I had -not only not been earning a living for all, I had not even -earned my own living. I had lived as a parasite, and when -I asked myself what use my life was, I found that my life -was useless. If the meaning of human life lies in supporting -it, how could I, who for thirty years had occupied -myself not with supporting life but with destroying it in -myself and in others—how could I obtain any other reply -than that my life was senseless and an evil? It was both -senseless and evil.</p> - -<p>The conviction that a knowledge of life can only be found -by living, led me to doubt the goodness of my own life.... -During that whole year, when I was asking myself almost -every moment, whether I should not end matters with a -noose or a bullet—all that time, alongside the course of -thought and observation about which I have spoken, my -heart was oppressed with a painful feeling which I can only -describe as a search for God.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span></p> - -<p>I went over in my mind the arguments of Kant and -Schopenhauer showing the impossibility of proving the -existence of a God, and I began to refute them. Cause, -said I to myself, is not a category such as are Time and -Space. If I exist, there must be some cause for it, and a -cause of causes. And that first cause of all, is what men -have called 'God.' And as soon as I acknowledged that -there is a force in whose power I am, I at once felt that I -could live. But I asked myself: What is that cause, that -force? How am I to think of it? What are my relations -to that which I call 'God'? And only the familiar replies -occurred to me: 'He is the Creator and Preserver.' This -reply did not satisfy me, and I felt I was losing within me -what I needed for my life. I became terrified and began to -pray to him whom I sought, that he should help me. But -the more I prayed the more apparent it became to me that -he did not hear me, and that there was no one to whom to -address myself. And with despair in my heart that there -is no God at all, I said: 'Lord, have mercy, save me! -Lord, teach me!' But no one had mercy on me, and I felt -that my life was coming to a standstill.</p> - -<p>But again and again I returned to the same admission -that I could not have come into the world without any cause -or reason or meaning; I could not be such a fledgling fallen -from its nest as I felt myself to be. Or, granting that I be -such, lying on my back in the high grass, even then I cry -because I know that a mother has borne me within her, has -hatched me, warmed me, fed me and loved me. Where is -she—that mother? If she has deserted me, who is it that -has done so? I cannot hide from myself that some one -bore me, loving me. Who was that some one? Again -'God'?</p> - -<p>'He exists,' said I to myself. And I had only for an -instant to admit that, and at once life rose within me, and -I felt the possibility and joy of being. But again, from the -admission of the existence of a God I went on to seek my -relations with him; and again I imagined <i>that</i> God—our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span> -creator in three persons who sent his son, the Saviour—and -again <i>that</i> God, detached from the world and from me, -melts like a block of ice, melts before my eyes, and again -nothing remains, and again the spring of life dries up -within me, and I despair, and feel that I have nothing to -do but to kill myself. And the worst of all is, that I feel -I cannot do it.</p> - -<p>Not twice or three times, but tens and hundreds of times, -I reached those conditions first of joy and animation, -and then of despair and consciousness of the impossibility -of living.</p> - -<p>I remember that it was in early spring: I was alone in -the wood listening to its sounds. I listened and thought -ever of the same thing, as I had constantly done during -those last three years. I was again seeking God.</p> - -<p>'Very well, there is no God,' said I to myself; 'there is -no one who is not my imagination but a reality like my -whole life. He does not exist, and no miracles can prove -his existence, because the miracles would be my perceptions, -besides being irrational.'</p> - -<p>'But my <i>perception</i> of God, of him whom I seek,' asked I -of myself, 'where has that perception come from?' And -again at this thought the glad waves of life rose within me. -All that was around me came to life, and received a meaning. -But my joy did not last long. My mind continued -its work.</p> - -<p>'The conception of God, is not God,' said I to myself. -'The conception, is what takes place within me. The conception -of God, is something I can evoke or can refrain from -evoking in myself. That is not what I seek. I seek that, -without which there can be no life.' And again all around -me and within me began to die, and again I wished to kill -myself.</p> - -<p>But then I turned my gaze upon myself, on what went on -within me, and I remembered that I only lived at those -times when I believed in God. As it was before, so it was -now; I need only be aware of God to live; I need only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span> -forget him, or disbelieve in him, and I die.... 'What -more do you seek?' exclaimed a voice within me. 'This is -he. He is that without which one cannot live. To know -God and to live is one and the same thing. God is life. -Live seeking God, and then you will not live without God.' -And more than ever before, all within me and around me -lit up, and the light did not again abandon me.</p> - -<p>And I was saved from suicide.... And strange to say, the -strength of life which returned to me was not new, but quite -old—the same that had borne me along in my earliest days.</p> - -<p>I quite returned to what belonged to my earliest childhood -and youth. I returned to the belief in that Will -which produced me, and desires something of me. I -returned to the belief that the chief and only aim of my life -is to be better, <i>i.e.</i> to live in accord with that Will. And -I returned to the belief that I can find the expression of -that Will, in what humanity, in the distant past hidden -from me, has produced for its guidance: that is to say, I -returned to a belief in God, in moral perfecting, and in a -tradition transmitting the meaning of life....</p> - -<p>I turned from the life of our circle: acknowledging that -theirs is not life but only a simulacrum of life, and that the -conditions of superfluity in which we live deprive us of the -possibility of understanding life.... The simple labouring -people around me were the Russian people, and I turned to -them and to the meaning which they give to life. That -meaning, if one can put it into words, was the following. -Every man has come into this world by the will of God. -And God has so made man that every man can destroy his -soul or save it. The aim of man in life is to save his soul; -and to save his soul he must live 'godly,' and to live 'godly' -he must renounce all the pleasures of life, must labour, -humble himself, suffer and be merciful.... The meaning -of this was clear and near to my heart. But together with -this meaning of the popular faith of our non-sectarian folk -among whom I live, much was inseparably bound up that -revolted me and seemed to me inexplicable: sacraments,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span> -Church services, fasts, and the adoration of relics and icons. -The people cannot separate the one from the other, nor -could I. And strange as much of it was to me, I accepted -everything; and attended the services, knelt morning and -evening in prayer, fasted, and prepared to receive the -eucharist; and at first my reason did not resist anything. -What had formerly seemed to me impossible, did not now -evoke in me any resistance....</p> - -<p>I told myself that the essence of every faith consists in -its giving life a meaning which death does not destroy. -Naturally, for a faith to be able to reply to the questions -of a king dying in luxury, of an old slave tormented by -overwork, and of all sorts of people, young and old, wise -and foolish,—its answers must be expressed in all sorts of -different ways.... But this argument, justifying in my -eyes the queerness of much on the ritual side of religion, -did not suffice to allow me, in the one great affair of life—religion—to -do things which seemed to me questionable. -With all my soul I wished to be in a position to mingle -with the people, fulfilling the ritual side of their religion; -but I could not do it. I felt that I should lie to myself, -and mock at what was sacred to me, were I to do so. At -this point, however, our new Russian theological writers -came to my rescue.</p> - -<p>According to the explanation these theologians gave, the -fundamental dogma of our faith is the infallibility of the -Church. From the admission of that dogma follows inevitably -the truth of all that is professed by the Church. -The Church as an assembly of true-believers united by love, -and therefore possessed of true knowledge, became the basis -of my belief. I told myself that divine truth cannot be -accessible to a separate individual; it is revealed only to -the whole assembly of people united by love. To attain -truth one must not separate; and not to separate, one must -love and must endure things one may not agree with.</p> - -<p>Truth reveals itself to love, and if you do not submit to -the rites of the Church, you transgress against love; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span> -by transgressing against love you deprive yourself of the -possibility of recognising the truth. I did not then see the -sophistry contained in this argument. I did not see that -union in love may give the greatest love, but certainly -cannot give us divine truth expressed in the definite words -of the Nicene Creed. I also did not perceive that love -cannot make a certain expression of truth an obligatory -condition of union. I did not then see these mistakes in -the argument, and thanks to it, was able to accept and perform -all the rites of the Orthodox Church without understanding -most of them.</p> - -<p>When fulfilling the rites of the Church I humbled my -reason, submitted to tradition, united myself with my forefathers: -the father, mother and grandparents I loved, and -with all those millions of the common people whom I -respected. When rising before dawn for the early Church -services, I knew I was doing well, if only because I was -sacrificing my bodily ease to humble my mental pride, and -for the sake of finding the meaning of life. However insignificant -these sacrifices might be, I made them for the sake -of something good. I fasted, prepared for communion, and -observed the fixed hours of prayer at home and in church. -During Church service I attended to every word, and gave -them a meaning whenever I could.</p> - -<p>But this reading of meanings into the rites had its -limits.... If I explained to myself the frequent repetition -of prayers for the Tsar and his relatives, by the fact -that they are more exposed to temptation than other -people and therefore more in need of being prayed for, -the prayers about subduing enemies and foes under his -feet (even though one tried to say that sin was the foe -prayed against) and many other unintelligible prayers—nearly -two-thirds of the whole service—either remained -quite incomprehensible or, when I forced an explanation -into them, made me feel that I was lying, and thereby -quite destroying my relation to God and losing all possibility -of believing....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span></p> - -<p>Never shall I forget the painful feeling I experienced the -day I received the eucharist for the first time after many -years. The service, confession and prayers were quite -intelligible and produced in me a glad consciousness that -the meaning of life was being revealed to me. The communion -itself I explained as an act performed in remembrance -of Christ, and indicating a purification from sin and -the full acceptance of Christ's teaching. If that explanation -was artificial I did not notice its artificiality: so happy was -I at humbling and abasing myself before the priest—a -simple timid country clergyman—turning all the dirt out -of my soul and confessing my vices, so glad was I to merge -in thought with the humility of the Fathers who wrote the -prayers of the Office, so glad was I of union with all who -have believed and now believe, that I did not notice the -artificiality of my explanation. But when I approached the -altar gates, and the priest made me say that I believed that -what I was about to swallow was truly flesh and blood, I felt -a pain in my heart: it was not merely a false note, it was a -cruel demand made by some one or other who evidently had -never known what faith is.</p> - -<p>I now permit myself to say that it was a cruel demand, -but I did not then think so: only it was indescribably -painful to me. At the time, I found in my soul a feeling -which helped me to endure it. This was the feeling of -self-abasement and humility. I humbled myself, swallowed -that flesh and blood without any blasphemous feelings, -and with a wish to believe. But the blow had been struck, -and knowing what awaited me, I could not go a second -time.</p> - -<p>I continued to fulfil the rites of the Church and still -believed that the doctrine I was following contained the -truth, when something happened to me which I now -understand but which then seemed strange.</p> - -<p>I was listening to the conversation of an illiterate peasant, -a pilgrim, about God, faith, life and salvation, when a -knowledge of faith revealed itself to me. I drew near to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span> -the people, listening to their opinions on life and faith, and -I understood the truth. So also was it when I read the Lives -of the Saints, which became my favourite books. Putting -aside the miracles, and regarding them as fables illustrating -thoughts, this reading revealed to me life's meaning. There -were the lives of Makarius the Great, of the Tsarévitch -Joasafa (the story of Buddha) and there were the stories -of the traveller in the well, and the monk who found some -gold. There were stories of the martyrs, all announcing -that death does not exclude life; and there were -the stories of ignorant, stupid men, and such as knew -nothing of the teaching of the Church, but who yet were -saved.</p> - -<p>But as soon as I met learned believers, or took up their -books, doubt of myself, dissatisfaction, and exasperated -disputation, were roused within me, and I felt that the more -I entered into the meaning of these men's speech, the more -I went astray from truth and approached an abyss. How -often I envied the peasants their illiteracy and lack of -learning! Those statements in the creeds, which to me -were evident absurdities, for them contained nothing false. -Only to me, unhappy man, was it clear that with truth -falsehood was interwoven by finest threads, and that I could -not accept it in that form.</p> - -<p>So I lived for about three years. At first, when I did -not understand something, I said, 'It is my fault, I am -sinful'; but the more I fathomed the truth, the clearer -became the line between what I do not understand because -I am not able to understand it, and what cannot be understood -except by lying to oneself.</p> - -<p>In spite of my doubts and sufferings, I still clung to the -Orthodox Church. But questions of life arose which had -to be decided; and the decision of these questions by the -Church, contrary to the very bases of the belief by which I -lived, obliged me at last to own that communion with -Orthodoxy is impossible. These questions were: first the -relation of the Orthodox Eastern Church to other Churches—to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span> -the Catholics and to the so-called sectarians. At that -time, in consequence of my interest in religion, I came into -touch with believers of various faiths: Catholics, Protestants, -Old-Believers, Molokáns and others. And I met -many men of lofty morals who were truly religious. I -wished to be a brother to them. And what happened? -That teaching which promised to unite all in one faith and -love—that very teaching, in the person of its best representatives, -told me that these men were all living a lie; -that what gave them their power of life, is a temptation of -the devil; and that we alone possess the only possible truth. -And I saw that all who do not profess an identical faith with -themselves, are considered by the Orthodox to be heretics; -just as the Catholics and others consider the Orthodox to -be heretics. And I saw that the Orthodox (though they -try to hide this) regard with hostility all who do not express -their faith by the same external symbols and words as themselves; -and this is naturally so: first, because the assertion -that you are in falsehood and I am in truth, is the most -cruel thing one man can say to another; and secondly, -because a man loving his children and brothers cannot help -being hostile to those who wish to pervert his children and -brothers to a false belief.... And to me, who considered -that truth lay in union by love, it became self-evident -that the faith was itself destroying what it ought to -produce.</p> - -<p>As people of many different religions behave to one -another in this same contemptuous, self-assured manner—the -error of such conduct was obvious; and I thought -on the matter and read all I could about it, and consulted -all whom I could. And no one gave me any explanation -except the one which causes the Soúmsky Hussars to consider -the Soúmsky Hussars the best regiment in the world, -and the Yellow Uhlans to consider that the best regiment -in the world is the Yellow Uhlans.... I went to Archimandrites, -archbishops, elders, monks of the strictest Orders, -and asked them; but none of them made any attempt to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span> -explain the matter to me, except one man, who explained -it all, and explained it so that I never asked any one any -more about it.</p> - -<p>I asked him why we should not unite on those main -points on which we could agree, and leave the rest for each -to decide as he pleases. My collocutor agreed with my -thoughts, but told me that such concessions would bring -reproach on the spiritual authorities for deserting the faith -of our forefathers, and this would produce a split; and the -vocation of the spiritual authorities is to safeguard in all -its purity the Greco-Russian Orthodox faith inherited from -our forefathers.</p> - -<p>And I understood it all. I am seeking a faith, the power -of life; and they are seeking the best way to fulfil before -men certain human obligations.... And I noticed what is -done in the name of religion, and was horrified; and I almost -entirely abjured Orthodoxy.</p> - -<p>The second relation of the Church to a question of life, -was with regard to war and executions.</p> - -<p>At that time Russia was at war. And Russians, in the -name of Christian love, began to kill their fellow-men. -It was impossible not to think about this, and not to see -that killing is an evil, repugnant to the first principles of -any faith. Yet they prayed in the churches for the success -of our arms, and the teachers of the faith acknowledged -killing to be an act resulting from the faith. And besides -the murders during the war, I saw during the disturbances -which followed the war, Church dignitaries and teachers and -monks of the lesser and stricter Orders, who approved the -killing of helpless erring youths. And I took note of all -that is done by men who profess Christianity, and I was -horrified.</p> - -<p>And I ceased to doubt, and became fully convinced that -not all was true in the religion I had joined. Formerly I -should have said that it was all false; but I could not say -so now, for I had felt its truth and had lived by it. But I -no longer doubted that there is in it much that is false.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span> -And though among the peasants there was less admixture -of what repelled me, still I saw that in their belief also, -falsehood was mixed with the truth.</p> - -<p>But where did the truth and where did the falsehood -come from? Both the falsehood and the truth were contained -in the so-called holy tradition and Scriptures. Both -the falsehood and the truth had been handed down by what -is called the Church.</p> - -<p>And whether I liked to or not, I was brought to the -study and investigation of these writings and traditions—which -till now I had been so afraid to investigate.</p> - -<p>And I turned to the examination of that same theology -which I had once rejected with such contempt.... On it -religious doctrine rests, or at least with it the only knowledge -of the meaning of life that I have found, is inseparably -connected.... I shall not seek the explanation of -everything. I know that the explanation of everything, -like the commencement of everything, must be concealed -in infinity. But I wish to understand in a way which -will bring me to what is inevitably inexplicable. I wish -to recognise anything that is inexplicable, as being so, not -because the demands of my reason are wrong (they are -right, and apart from them I can understand nothing), but -because I recognise the limits of my intellect. I wish to -understand in such a way that everything that is inexplicable -shall present itself to me as being necessarily inexplicable, -and not as being something I am under an arbitrary -obligation to believe. I must find what is true and what -is false, and must disentangle the one from the other. I -am setting to work upon this task. What of falsehood I -find in the teaching, and what I find of truth, and to what -conclusions I come, will form the following parts of this -work, which if it be worth it, and if any one wants it, will -probably some day be printed somewhere.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>These closing words in which Tolstoy expresses the hope -that his work 'will probably some day be printed some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[426]</a></span>where,' -are a reminder of the difficulties and dangers that -had to be encountered in Russia by any man who set out to -challenge the authority of the Orthodox Church, whose -affairs were managed by the Holy Synod, presided over by a -Procurator able to call on the secular powers to enforce his -decisions.</p> - - -<h3>AUTHORITY FOR CHAPTER XI</h3> - -<p>Tolstoy's <i>Ispoved</i>: Christchurch, 1901.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's <i>Confession</i> being prohibited in Russia, had to be printed -abroad. The edition mentioned above is a reliable one.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[427]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="chap12">CHAPTER XII<br /> -WORKS: 1852-1878</h2> - -<p class="i2">Tolstoy's first nineteen stories. Stands in a line of succession. -Quality as writer. <i>War and Peace.</i> 'Great' men. -Napoleon. The battles of Schöngraben and Borodinó. -Tolstoy's influence on war-correspondence. Serfdom. The -organisation of society. Characters in <i>War and Peace</i>. Its -range. <i>Anna Karénina</i>: Matthew Arnold's essay. Translations. -The tendency of the book. Kropótkin's criticism. -The volunteers. Tolstoy's attitude towards Government. -W. D. Howells's appreciation. Tolstoy's Last Three Decades -of work: the magnitude and nature of his effort.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Tolstoy's</span> writings during the first twenty-five years of his -literary career divide up into six sections.</p> - -<p>First came a series of seventeen stories and sketches, -beginning with <i>Childhood</i> and ending with <i>Family Happiness</i>. -Next came his series of educational articles in the -<i>Yásnaya Polyána</i> magazine. Third came <i>The Cossacks</i> -(the finest story he had yet written) and <i>Polikoúshka</i>. -Fourth, came <i>War and Peace</i>. Fifth, came the <i>ABC</i> Book, -the <i>Readers</i>, and another article on Education; and sixth, -came <i>Anna Karénina</i>.</p> - -<p>Leaving the educational works out of account, the list -can be reduced to nineteen stories and sketches, followed by -two great novels.</p> - -<p>The nineteen sketches and stories, 'trials of the pen,' as -Tolstoy called them, covered a wide range of subjects, from -charmingly realistic sketches of childhood to vigorous depictions -of Cossack life, and showed their writer to be an -amazingly accurate observer of physical facts and qualities, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span> -manners, tones and gestures, besides being possessed of a -yet more wonderful knowledge of the hearts and minds of -all sorts and conditions of men, from the shame-faced child -to the officer dying on the field of battle. He is so concerned -with the interest and importance of life, that he can -hold his reader's attention without having to tell his stories -so that they must be guessed like riddles, and he never -makes use of elaborate plots. He needs no tricks of that -sort. Nor does he strive after effect by the use of pornographic -details, the introduction of extraordinary events, or -the piling up of many horrible details. His stories are as -straightforward as everyday life.</p> - -<p>His great novels bear out all the promise of his short -stories, with the added power of maturity.</p> - -<p>Though highly original and of strong individuality, he -stands none the less in the line of succession of great writers -which began with Poúshkin, whose genius for simple sincere -and direct narrative gave an invaluable direction to Russian -literature, was continued by Gógol whose biting irony and -remorseless exposure of shams and hypocrisies completed -the emancipation from romanticism, and was carried on by -Tourgénef, whose art, conscious of and not indifferent to the -trend of thought and feeling in the society it describes, -reached an extraordinary pitch of artistic perfection.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's works have from the first interested Russia, and -now interest the world, because in greater measure than any -of his predecessors he possesses the capacity to feel intensely, -note accurately, and think deeply. The combination which -makes Tolstoy the most interesting of writers, is the scientific -accuracy of his observation (which never allows him to take -liberties with his characters or events in order to make out -a case for the side he sympathises with) and the fact that he -is mightily in earnest. Life to him is important, and art is -the handmaid of life. He wants to know what is good and -what is bad; to help the former and to resist the latter. His -work tends to evolve order out of life's chaos; and as that is -the most important thing a man can do, his books are among -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[429]</a></span> -the most interesting and important books of our time. He -makes no pretence of standing aloof, cutting off his art from -his life, or concealing his desire that kindness should prevail -over cruelty. Life interests him, and therefore the reflection -of life interests him, and the problems of art are the -problems of life: love and passion and death and the desire -to do right.</p> - -<p>The chief subject reappearing again and again throughout -the stories he wrote before <i>War and Peace</i>, is the mental -striving of a young Russian nobleman to free himself from -the artificial futilities of the society in which he was born, -and to see and do what is right. The search is only partially -successful. The indictment of society is often convincing, -but the heroes' failures and perplexities are frankly -admitted. Sometimes there is no hero. In <i>Sevastopol</i>, for -instance, he exclaims: 'Where in this tale is the evil shown -that should be avoided? Where is the good that should -be imitated? Who is the villain, who the hero of the story? -All are good and all are bad'; and in <i>Lucerne</i> he says: -'Who will define for me what is freedom, what despotism, -what civilisation and what barbarism? Or tell me where -are the limits of the one or the other? Who has in his -soul so immovable a <i>standard of good and evil</i> that by it he -can measure the passing facts of life?'</p> - -<p>This searching for what is good and rejecting what is false—resulting -in a strong distrust and dislike of the predatory -masterful domineering types of humanity, and in general -of what has usually been regarded as the heroic type, and -also in a friendly compassion for all that is humble simple -forbearing and sincere—is the keynote of Tolstoy's early -tales. They are studies of life, so truthful that the characters -seem to have an independent life of their own. They -speak for themselves, and at times, like Balaam, bless what -they were apparently expected to curse. For instance, -when Prince Nehlúdof insists on bringing the wandering -musician into the Schweizerhof Hotel in <i>Lucerne</i>, we feel -how uncomfortable he thereby makes the poor singer, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span> -though that is evidently not what Tolstoy originally set out -to make us feel.</p> - -<p><i>War and Peace</i>, besides being maturer than the preceding -tales, was composed during the early years of Tolstoy's -married life, when he felt more content with himself and -with life in general, and when his attitude towards existing -things was more tolerant and sympathetic than it had been, -or than it became in later years.</p> - -<p>He told me that in <i>War and Peace</i> and <i>Anna Karénina</i> -his aim was simply to amuse his readers. I am bound to -accept his statement; but one has only to read either of -those books to see that through them Tolstoy's ardent -nature found vent, with all its likes and dislikes, strivings, -yearnings, hopes and fears.</p> - -<p>I asked Tolstoy why in <i>What is Art?</i> he relegates these -great novels to the realm of 'bad art'; and his answer -showed, as I expected it would, that he does not really consider -them at all bad, but condemns them merely as being -too long, and written in a way chiefly adapted to please -the leisured well-to-do classes, who have time for reading -novels in several volumes, because other people do their -rough work for them. Of <i>War and Peace</i> he said, 'It is, -one would think, harmless enough, but one never knows -how things will affect people,' and he went on to mention, -with regret, that one of Professor Zahárin's daughters had -told him that from his novels she had acquired a love of -balls and parties; things of which, at the time of our conversation, -he heartily disapproved.</p> - -<p>In form, <i>War and Peace</i> is unlike any English novel, but -it resembles Poúshkin's <i>The Captain's Daughter</i> (though the -latter is a much shorter story) in that both works are -chronicles of Russian families, round whom the stories -centre. In <i>War and Peace</i> there are two families, the -Rostófs and the Bolkónskys.</p> - -<p>The mighty drama of the Napoleonic advance from 1805 -to 1812 comes into the novel, in so far as it affects the -members of those two families. But Tolstoy is not content -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span> -merely to tell us of historic events. He introduces a whole -philosophy of history, which is sound at bottom though no -doubt he somewhat overstates his case, as is his habit. -The theory is that the 'great' men of history count for very -little. They are the figureheads of forces that are beyond -their control. They do most good and least harm when, -like Koutoúzof, they are aware of the true direction of the -great human forces and adapt themselves to them; but -then they are modest, and the world does not esteem them -great. The typical case of the impotent 'great' man is -Napoleon in 1812, at the time of his invasion of Russia. -He posed before the world as a man of destiny whose will -and intellect decided the fate of empires. Yet from first to -last, during that campaign, he never in the least knew what -was about to happen. The result was decided by the spirit -of the Russian nation, and by its steadfast endurance. Every -common Russian soldier who understood that the Russian -people dreaded and detested the thought of a foreign yoke, -and who therefore co-operated with the natural course of -events, did more to further the result than Napoleon, that -'most insignificant tool of history,' as Tolstoy calls him, -who even in St. Helena was never able to understand what -had caused his overthrow.</p> - -<p>The main theme of the novel, if it be permissible to select -a main theme out of the many latent in the story, is Tolstoy's -favourite thesis. He tacitly asks: What is good and what -is bad? With what must we sympathise and what must we -reject? And the reply is that the predatory, artificial and -insincere types, exemplified historically by the invading -French, as well as by such characters among the Russians as -Ellen, Anatole and Dólohof, are repugnant to him, while -he loves the humble, the meek and the sincere: Marie and -Platon Karatáef, Natásha (so impulsive and charming in her -youth, so absorbed in her family later on), and Pierre (who is -often humble and always sincere, and loves ideas and ideals).</p> - -<p>It is impossible to do justice to this wonderful book in -any brief summary. It is not a work to be summed up in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[432]</a></span> -few pages. It has many characters, all of them so distinctly -drawn that we know them better than we know our -personal acquaintances. It treats of life's deepest experiences -from the cradle to the grave; and to read it with -the care it deserves is to know life better and see it more -sanely and seriously than one ever did before. Some -foolish people think that reading novels is a waste of time; -but there are hardly any books—at any rate hardly any -big books—that are better worth reading than Tolstoy's -novels.</p> - -<p>He is probably justified in claiming that his history is -truer than the historians' history of the battles of Schöngraben, -Austerlitz, and Borodinó. The historians, from -mendacious military reports drawn up after the action, try -to discover what the Commanders-in-Chief meant to do; -and to tell their story within moderate limits they have to -systematise what was really a huge disorder; thereby giving -their readers a completely wrong impression of what a battle -is like.</p> - -<p>N. N. Mouravyóf, a Commander-in-Chief who distinguished -himself in more than one war, declared he had never read -a better description of a battle than Tolstoy's account of -Schöngraben; and added that he was convinced from his -own experience that during a battle it is impossible to carry -out a Commander-in-Chief's orders.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy, when he wrote the book, was convinced that war -is inevitable. The idea that it is man's duty to resist war -and to refuse to take part in it, came to him later.</p> - -<p>In an article entitled 'Some Words about <i>War and -Peace</i>,' which he wrote in 1868 for one of the periodicals, -he says:</p> - -<p>'Why did millions of people kill one another, when since -the foundation of the world it has been known that this is -both physically and morally bad?</p> - -<p>'Because it was so inevitably necessary, that when doing -it they fulfilled the elemental zoological law bees fulfil when -they kill one another in autumn, and male animals fulfil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[433]</a></span> -when they destroy one another. No other reply can be -given to that dreadful question.'</p> - -<p>Yet his inveterate truthfulness, and his personal knowledge -of war, caused him to describe it so exactly, that the -result is tantamount to a condemnation. As Kropótkin says, -<i>War and Peace</i> is a powerful indictment of war. The effect -which the great writer has exercised in this direction upon -his generation can be actually seen in Russia. It was -already apparent during the Russo-Turkish war of 1877-8, -when it was impossible to find in Russia a correspondent -who would have described how '<i>we</i> peppered the enemy with -grape-shot,' or how 'we knocked them down like ninepins.' -If any one could have been found to use in his letters such -survivals of barbarism, no paper would have dared to print -them. The general character of the Russian war-correspondent -had totally changed; and during that war there -appeared Gárshin the novelist, and Verestchágin the painter, -'with whom to combat war became a life work.'</p> - -<p>It has been charged against <i>War and Peace</i> that it -neglects to show the evil side of serfdom: the brutality, -the cruelty, the immurement of women, the flogging of -grown-up sons, the torture of serf girls by their mistresses, -etc. But Tolstoy studied the period closely from letters, -diaries and traditions, especially from the records of his -own grandparents, the Tolstoys and the Volkónskys; and -he says he did not find horrors worse than are to be found -now, or at any other period. People then loved and envied, -and sought for truth and virtue, and were swayed by -passions, as now. Their mental and moral life was just as -complex, and in the upper circles it was sometimes even -more refined than now.... No doubt the greater remoteness -of the higher circle from the other classes gave a -special character to the period, but not the character of -brutal violence.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy is in sympathy with that time, sees the poetry -of it, and knows how much of goodness, courage, kindliness -and high aspiration existed among those politically unenfranchised -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[434]</a></span> -serf-owners. With our modern, Western desire -to <i>organise society efficiently</i>, he never has sympathised. The -state of a man's mind has always been to him more important -than the conditions of his life, and it seems to him -as though there were some antithesis between the two: as -though, if you organised your society, it would cease to think -truly or feel deeply. We in the West are beginning to -believe the opposite, and to suspect that to leave society -unorganised or disorganised has an inevitable tendency to -blunt our minds and souls. But not the less is it valuable -to have so wonderful a picture of Russia as it was at -the commencement of the nineteenth century, painted by -one who sees it as the best Russians of that period saw it -themselves.</p> - -<p>Of the history part of the book, it should be noted that -Tolstoy says: 'Wherever in my novel historic characters -speak or act, I have not invented, but have made use of -materials which during my work have accumulated till they -form a whole library.'</p> - -<p>He told me he considered the defect of the book, besides -its size, to be the intrusion of a long philosophic argument -into the story. He still holds the opinions he held when he -wrote it, as to the influence or impotence of 'great' men, as -well as all that he then said about destiny and free will; -but he now realises that his novel would have been a -better novel without these abstract disquisitions.</p> - -<p>The characters in the book are not strictly copied from -life, but in the main Tolstoy's father's family are represented -by the Rostófs and his mother's by the Bolkónskys. In the -magazine article already referred to, Tolstoy says that only -two minor characters are taken from life, and 'all the other -characters are entirely invented, and I have not even for -them any definite prototypes in tradition or in reality.' -But when he said that, he was defending himself from -the charge of having copied actual people who had played -a part in the society of the time, and he clearly overstates -his case, for to a considerable extent the characters in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[435]</a></span> -novel correspond to the people mentioned in the following -list:</p> - -<table border="1" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="families"> - -<tr> - <td class="tdcc"><b><span class="smcap">Characters in</span> <i>War and Peace</i>:</b></td> - <td class="tdc smcap"><b>Members of the Tolstoy or Volkónsky Families:</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdcc">The old Prince N. Bolkónsky.</td> - <td class="tdc">Tolstoy's grandfather, Prince N. Volkónsky.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdcc">His daughter, Princess Marie N. Bolkónsky.</td> - <td class="tdc">Tolstoy's mother, the Princess Marie N. Volkónsky.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdcc">The old Count Ilyá A. Rostóf.</td> - <td class="tdc">Tolstoy's grandfather, Count Ilyá A. Tolstoy.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdcc">Count Nicholas I. Rostóf.</td> - <td class="tdc">Tolstoy's father. Count Nicholas I. Tolstoy.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdcc">Countess Natálya Rostóf.</td> - <td class="tdc">Tatiána Behrs, Tolstoy's youngest sister-in-law.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdcc">Sónya.</td> - <td class="tdc">Tatiána A. Érgolsky.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">Dólohof is made up of a combination of Count Theodore -Tolstoy, a famous traveller, with R. I. Dórohof, a -notorious dare-devil of Alexander I.'s days.</td> -</tr> - -</table> - -<p class="p2">Many even of the minor characters, such as Mlle. -Bourienne, and Ivánushka the woman pilgrim in man's -clothes, are copied more or less closely from people connected -with the Volkónskys' home at Yásnaya Polyána.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's sympathies and antipathies in this novel: his -appreciation of affection, kindliness, simplicity and truthfulness, -and his dislike of what is cruel, pompous, complicated -or false, are the same as in his earlier stories, but -mellowed and wiser; they are also the same as in his later -didactic writings, though there they are formulated, dogmatic -and rigid.</p> - -<p>The novel covers nearly the whole range of Tolstoy's -experience of life: in it we have the aristocracy and the -peasants; town life and country life; the Commanders, -officers and privates of the army, in action and out of -action; the diplomatists and courtiers; flirtation, love, -balls, hunting, and a reform movement which is all talk.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[436]</a></span> -What Tolstoy does not show, is what he did not know—the -middle-class world: the world of merchants, manufacturers, -engineers and men of business. Of course these in -Russia a hundred years ago, played a comparatively small -part; and there was practically no political activity such as -that of our County Councils, Borough Councils and Parliament. -But that all this was absent from Tolstoy's mind, -and that his outlook on life was confined to the aristocracy -which consumed and the peasantry which produced, will, in -the sequel, help us to understand the social teaching to which -he ultimately came. His brother-in-law tells us that Leo -Tolstoy 'has in my presence confessed to being both proud -and vain. He was a rampant aristocrat, and though he -always loved the country folk, he loved the aristocracy still -more. To the middle class he was antipathetic. When, -after his failures in early life, he became widely famous as a -writer, he used to admit that it gave him great pleasure and -intense happiness. In his own words, he was pleased to feel -that he was both a writer and a noble.'</p> - -<p>'When he heard of any of his former comrades or acquaintances -receiving important appointments, his comments reminded -one of those of Souvórof [a Field-Marshal of -Catherine the Great's time], who always maintained that -at Court one receives promotion for cringing and flattery, -but never for good work. Sometimes he would ironically -remark that, though he had himself not earned a Generalship -in the artillery, he had at any rate won his Generalship -in literature.'</p> - -<p>A simple world of nobles and peasants, with little organisation, -and that of a poor kind: a world the evils of which -were mitigated by much kindliness and good intention, and -in which, on the whole, the less the Government interfered -with anybody or anything, the better—was old Russia as it -existed under Alexander I and as it still existed when -Tolstoy was young. He has described it with extraordinary -vividness, and has made it possible for us to picture to ourselves -a country and an age not our own. What effect the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[437]</a></span> -limitation of his outlook, referred to above, had on the -subsequent development of his opinions, need not here be -considered. It does not spoil the novel, for no novel can -show us the whole of life; but it had a very serious effect -on the formulation of his later philosophy of life. Of -certain important types of humanity he has hardly any -conception. Of the George Stephenson type, for instance, -which masters the brute forces of nature and harnesses them -to the service of man—doing this primarily from love of -efficient work—he knows nothing; nor does he know any -thing of the Sidney Webb type, which sets itself the yet -more difficult task of evolving social order out of the partial -chaos of modern civilisation; or of the best type of organisers -in our great industrial undertakings: the men whose hearts -are set on getting much work well done, with little friction -and little waste, and to whom the successful accomplishment -of a difficult project gives more satisfaction than any -effortless acquisition of wealth would do. Tolstoy over-simplifies -life's problems. He makes a sharp contrast between -the predatory and the humble types; and there is a -measure of truth in his presentation. He is right that life -is supported by the humble, and is rendered hard by the -predatory types; but he has omitted from his scheme of -things the man of organising mind: the man who knows -how to get his way, and generally gets it (or a good deal of -it) but does this mainly from worthy motives; the man who -is not perfect, and may take more than is good for him, -and may have some of the tendencies of the predatory type, -but who still, on the whole, is worth, and more than worth, -his salt, and but for whom there would be more of chaos -and less of order in the world. Tolstoy has said in one of -his later writings that the cause of the Russian famines is -the Greek Church; and he is right. All that stupefies, all -that impedes thought, tends to make men inefficient even in -their agricultural operations. But by parity of reasoning -he should see that the introduction of thought into methods -of production, distribution and exchange, which has, during -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[438]</a></span> -the last hundred and fifty years, so revolutionised our Western -world, should not be condemned as bad in itself, however -ugly many of its manifestations may be; and however often -we may see the organising and the predatory types exemplified -in one and the same person.</p> - -<p>Outside Russia, <i>Anna Karénina</i> is perhaps more popular -than <i>War and Peace</i>. The former is a long novel, but not -nearly as long as the latter; and though it contains philosophic -disquisitions, these fit better into the story and are -shorter and clearer than the philosophic chapters in <i>War -and Peace</i>. In arrangement, again, <i>Anna Karénina</i> is more -like the novels we are accustomed to, though instead of one -hero and heroine it has two pairs of lovers, living quite -different lives, and not very closely connected.</p> - -<p>It deals with the passionate love of a beautiful and -attractive woman; and it has a further interest in the fact -that Lévin, to a greater degree than any of the author's other -characters, represents Tolstoy himself; though Tolstoy -made Lévin a very simple fellow in order to get a more -effective contrast between him and the representatives of -high life in Moscow and Petersburg.</p> - -<p><i>Anna Karénina</i> had the advantage of being introduced to -the English reading public by Matthew Arnold in an essay -which is one of the very best any one has ever written -about Tolstoy. It is so good, and still carries so much -weight, that I may be excused for mentioning three points -on which it seems to me misleading. First, Arnold's ground -for preferring <i>Anna Karénina</i> to <i>War and Peace</i> is ill chosen. -He says: 'One prefers, I think, to have the novelist dealing -with the life which he knows from having lived it, rather -than with the life which he knows from books or hearsay. -If one has to choose a representative work of Thackeray, it -is <i>Vanity Fair</i> which one would take rather than <i>The -Virginians</i>.'</p> - -<p>This surely is misleading. War in Russia in 1812 was -very similar to war in Russia in 1854, and the son who had -fought in the latter war, describing the war in which his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[439]</a></span> -father had fought, was not at all in the position of -Thackeray describing the life of the Virginians. Tolstoy -depicting the homes of his parents and grandparents, which -he in part remembered, and which he at any rate knew well -from those who had formed part of them, was as close to -first-hand experience as he was when describing the life of -Karénin the pedantic Petersburg statesman, who belonged -to a world which was essentially foreign to Tolstoy, though -he had occasionally glanced at it.</p> - -<p>But the sentence in Arnold's essay which has done most -harm, is that in which he speaks about translations: 'I use -the French translation; in general, as I long ago said, work -of this kind is better done in France than in England, and -<i>Anna Karénina</i> is perhaps also a novel which goes better -into French than into English.'</p> - -<p>It is true enough that the first English translations of -Tolstoy were very poor, and it is also true that the French -versions, so long as Tourgénef attended to them, were -really good. But Arnold was wrong in supposing that -<i>Anna Karénina</i> would naturally go better into French -than into English. Had he been able to read the original, -or had he been acquainted with Russian life, he would -have seen that in Tolstoy's novels there are two sets of -people: a Court, Petersburg set, who continually speak -French and are Frenchified; and a plain, homely, straightforward -Russian (I had almost said, English) set who do -not use French phrases, and who are sharply contrasted -with the others. This contrast can be made quite clear -in an English version, but it is difficult to make it clear in -a version where even the most Russian characters have to -speak French. The case is worse than that, however: -Arnold did not say, as he fairly might have said, that up -to his time the French versions were better than the -English; he speaks as though it were in the nature of -things that any translation into French must be better -than any possible translation into English. A prejudice of -that kind tends to divert attention from the fact that some -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[440]</a></span> -French translations are bad, and some English translations -are good. As a matter of fact, since Arnold's time the position -has been largely reversed. When staying at Yásnaya -Polyána in 1902, I heard Tolstoy express considerable dissatisfaction -with the new collected French edition of his -works, the first volumes of which had then recently appeared, -while he commended some recent English versions, including -work done by Mrs. Garnett and by my wife.</p> - -<p>A grave error, again, is made by Arnold in speaking of -Tolstoy's later life, where he says that he 'earns his bread -by the labour of his own hands.' Tolstoy never did that, and -never claimed to have done it; though it is extraordinary -how often and how confidently the statement has been -repeated. It is a matter however which need not detain us, -for it does not relate to the period with which this volume -deals.</p> - -<p>Arnold's summary of the story of the novel is excellent, -but I can here only quote one more passage from his essay. -'We have,' he says, 'been in a world which misconducts -itself nearly as much as the world of a French novel all -palpitating with "modernity." But there are two things -in which the Russian novel—Count Tolstoi's novel at any -rate—is very advantageously distinguished from the type -of novel now so much in request in France. In the first -place, there is no fine sentiment, at once tiresome and false. -We are not told to believe, for example, that Anna is -wonderfully exalted and ennobled by her passion for Vrónsky. -The English reader is thus saved from many a groan of -impatience. The other thing is yet more important. Our -Russian novelist deals abundantly with criminal passion and -with adultery, but he does not seem to feel himself owing -any service to the goddess Lubricity, or bound to put in -touches at this goddess's dictation. Much in <i>Anna Karénina</i> -is painful, much is unpleasant, but nothing is of a nature to -trouble the senses, or to please those who wish their senses -troubled. This taint is wholly absent.'</p> - -<p>W. D. Howells, who has stood sponsor for Tolstoy in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span> -America as Matthew Arnold has done in England, similarly -says: 'It is Tolstoy's humanity which is the grace beyond -the reach of art in his imaginative work. It does not reach -merely the poor and the suffering; it extends to the -prosperous and the proud, and does not deny itself to the -guilty. There had been many stories of adultery before -<i>Anna Karénina</i>, nearly all the great novels outside of -English are framed upon that argument, but in <i>Anna -Karénina</i>, for the first time the whole truth was told about -it. Tolstoy has said of the fiction of Maupassant that the -whole truth can never be immoral; and in his own work I -have felt that it could never be anything but moral.'</p> - -<p>Tolstoy never fears to deal with the real problems of life, -and never fears to call a spade a spade; but he also never -panders to the animal passions. In a letter relating to -<i>Resurrection</i> he remarked: 'When I read a book, what -chiefly interests me is the <i>Weltanschauung des Autors</i>: what -he likes and what he hates. And I hope that any one who -reads my book with that in view will find out what the -author likes and dislikes, and will be influenced by the -author's feelings.' What is important is not the subject -treated of, but the feeling the author imparts when dealing -with it.</p> - -<p>Arnold, it is true, is rather shocked that Anna should -yield so quickly and easily to the persuasions of Vrónsky. -He is quite sure that she ought to have resisted. But here -we come to a matter on which many Russians disapprove of -Tolstoy on quite the opposite ground. Kropótkin in his -interesting work <i>Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature</i>, -has stated their case very clearly, and this is the substance -of what he says:</p> - -<p><i>Anna Karénina</i> produced in Russia an impression which -brought Tolstoy congratulations from the reactionary camp -and a very cool reception from the advanced portion of -society. The fact is that the question of marriage and of -the separation of husband and wife, had been most earnestly -debated in Russia by the best men and women, both in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[442]</a></span> -literature and in life. Levity towards marriage such as is -continually unveiled in the Divorce Courts, was decidedly -condemned, as also was any form of deceit such as supplies -the subject for countless French novels and plays. But -after levity and deceit had been condemned, the right of a -new love—appearing perhaps after years of happy married -life—was seriously considered, Tchernyshévsky's novel, -<i>What Is To Be Done?</i> may be taken as the best expression -of the opinions on marriage which became current among -the better portion of the young generation. Once married, -it was said, don't take lightly to love affairs or flirtation. -Not every fit of passion deserves the name of a new love; -and what is called love is often merely temporary desire. -Even if it be real, before it has grown deep there is -generally time to reflect on the consequences that would -result were it allowed to grow. But when all is said and -done, there are cases when a new love does come, and comes -almost inevitably: as for instance when a girl has been -married almost against her will under the continued insistence -of her lover, or when the two have married without -properly understanding one another, or when one of the -two has continued to progress towards an ideal, while the -other, after having worn the mask of idealism, falls back -into the Philistine happiness of warmed slippers. In such -cases separation not only becomes inevitable, but is often to -the interest of both. It would be better for both to live -through the suffering a separation involves (honest natures -are improved by such suffering) than to spoil the entire -subsequent life of one—or both in most cases—and to face -the evil consequences which living together under such -circumstances would be sure to produce on the children. -That at any rate was the conclusion to which, both in -literature and in life, the best portion of Russian society -came.</p> - -<p>And into the society Kropótkin describes in the above -statement, comes Tolstoy with <i>Anna Karénina</i>. The -epigraph of the book is 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay,' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[443]</a></span> -and death by suicide is the fate of poor Anna, who was -married young to an old and unattractive man, and who -had never known love till she met Vrónsky. Deceit was -not in her nature. To maintain a conventional marriage -would not have made her husband or child happier. -Separation and a new life with Vrónsky, who seriously loved -her, was the only possible outcome. At any rate, continues -Kropótkin, if the story of <i>Anna Karénina</i> had to end in -tragedy, it was not in consequence of an act of supreme -justice. The artistic genius of Tolstoy, honest here as -everywhere, itself indicated the real cause, in the inconsistency -of Vrónsky and Anna. After leaving her husband -and defying public opinion—that is, as Tolstoy shows, the -opinion of women not honest enough to have a right to a -voice in the matter—neither she nor Vrónsky had the -courage to break right away from that society, the futility -of which Tolstoy describes so exquisitely. Instead of that, -when Anna returns with Vrónsky to Petersburg, their chief -preoccupation is, how Betsy and other such women will -receive her if she reappears among them? 'And it was the -opinion of the Betsies—surely not Superhuman Justice—which -brought Anna to suicide.'</p> - -<p>Whether Matthew Arnold's view or Kropótkin's view be -accepted, Tolstoy at any rate does full justice to Anna's -charm: 'her large, fresh, rich, generous, delightful nature -which keeps our sympathy' and even our respect; there is -no nonsense about her being a degraded or vile person. -And after all, Tolstoy's view of marriage sanctity is a very -old and a very widely held one; and it is surely good to -have that side of the case put so artistically, so persuasively, -so well, as he puts it. If ultimately the idea that two -uncongenial people ought to live out their lives together -because they have married, has to be abandoned, let it not -be abandoned without the very best advocates being heard -on its behalf.</p> - -<p><i>Anna Karénina</i> contains passages: the ball, the officers' -steeplechase, the mowing, the death of Lévin's brother, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[444]</a></span> -others, which for artistic beauty are unsurpassed and, one is -tempted to add, unsurpassable. It also, towards the end, -contains in admirably concise form much of what Tolstoy -has told in his <i>Confession</i>, of his quest after the meaning of -life, his thoughts of suicide, and how he learnt from a -talk with a peasant that man should live for his soul and -for God.</p> - -<p>His treatment in this novel of the Russian volunteers who -went to fight for Servia, was as bold a slap in the face to -the Russian jingoes, who were having things all their own -way at that time, as Campbell Bannerman's 'methods of -barbarism' speech, or Sir E. Clarke's declaration that the -reassertion of England's claim to suzerainty in the internal -affairs of the Transvaal, was 'a breach of national faith,' -was to our jingoes at the time of the Boer war; but it is -curious to note the precise position that (speaking through -the mouth of Lévin) Tolstoy took up. He did not say -that Russia ought not to fight to free the Christian -populations of Turkey; he merely said that no individual -Russian had any business to volunteer for the Servian or -Bulgarian army, or to take any action to urge the Russian -Government towards war.</p> - -<p>Of Lévin we are told: 'He, like Miháylitch and the -peasants, whose feelings are expressed in the legendary story -of the invitation sent to the Varyági by the early inhabitants -of Russia, said: "Come and be princes and rule over -us. <i>We gladly promise complete submission.</i> All labour, -all humiliations, all sacrifices we take on ourselves, but <i>we -do not judge or decide</i>."' And Lévin goes on to repudiate -the idea that the Russian people have 'now renounced this -privilege [the privilege, that is, of not taking any part in -Government] bought at so costly a price.'</p> - -<p>The connection between the roots of Tolstoy's opinions—manifested -in these writings of his first fifty years—and -his opinions in their ultimate rigid and dogmatic form, as -expressed during the last three decades, is in general so -close, the dogmas of the later period grew so naturally out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[445]</a></span> -of the sympathies and experiences of the earlier time, that -this point—at which there is a clean line of cleavage (the -difference between obeying Government and disobeying it)—is -worthy of particular note. When finishing <i>Anna -Karénina</i> Tolstoy had not yet reached the conclusion that -all Governments employing force are immoral; but his later -teachings are dominated by that view.</p> - -<p>Apart from the special points I have referred to, the -general effect and influence of Tolstoy's fiction can hardly -be summed up better than they have been summed up by -W. D. Howells, who says:</p> - -<p>'Up to his time fiction had been a part of the pride of -life, and had been governed by the criterions of the world -which it amused. But Tolstoy replaced the artistic conscience -by the human conscience. Great as my wonder was -at the truth in his work, my wonder at the love in it was -greater yet. Here, for the first time, I found the most -faithful picture of life set in the light of that human conscience -which I had falsely taught myself was to be ignored -in questions of art, as something inadequate and inappropriate. -In the august presence of the masterpieces, I had -been afraid and ashamed of the highest interests of my -nature as something philistine and provincial. But here -I stood in the presence of a master, who told me not to be -ashamed of them, but to judge his work by them, since he -had himself wrought in honour of them. I found the tests -of conduct which I had used in secret with myself, applied -as the rules of universal justice, condemning and acquitting -in motive and action, and admitting none of those lawyer's -pleas which baffle our own consciousness of right and wrong. -Often in Tolstoy's ethics I feel a hardness, almost an arrogance -(the word says too much); but in his esthetics I have -never felt this. He has transmuted the atmosphere of -a realm hitherto supposed unmoral into the very air of -heaven. I found nowhere in his work those base and cruel -lies which cheat us into the belief that wrong may sometimes -be right through passion, or genius, or heroism. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[446]</a></span> -There was everywhere the grave noble face of the truth -that had looked me in the eyes all my life, and that I knew -I must confront when I came to die. But there was something -more than this, infinitely more. There was that love -which is before even the truth, without which there is no -truth, and which if there is any last day, must appear the -Divine justice....</p> - -<p>'As I have already more than once said, his ethics and -esthetics are inseparably at one; and that is what gives a -vital warmth to all his art. It is never that heartless skill -which exists for its own sake, and is content to dazzle with -the brilliancy of its triumphs. It seeks always the truth, in -the love to which alone the truth unveils itself. If Tolstoy -is the greatest imaginative writer who ever -lived, it is because, beyond all others, he has -written in the spirit of kindness, and not denied -his own personal complicity with his art.</p> - -<p>'As for the scope of his work, it would not be easy to -measure it, for it seems to include all motives and actions, -in good and bad, in high and low, and not to leave life untouched -at any point as it shows itself in his vast Russian -world. Its chief themes are the old themes of art always,—they -are love, passion, death, but they are treated with such -a sincerity, such a simplicity, that they seem almost new to -art, and as effectively his as if they had not been touched -before....</p> - -<p>'Passion, we have to learn from the great master, who here -as everywhere humbles himself to the truth, has in it life -and death; but of itself it is something, only as a condition -precedent to these; without it neither can be; but it is lost -in their importance, and is strictly subordinate to their laws. -It has never been more charmingly and reverently studied -in its beautiful and noble phases than it is in Tolstoy's -fiction; though he has always dealt with it so sincerely, so -seriously. As to its obscure and ugly and selfish phases, he -is so far above all others who have written of it, that he -alone seems truly to have divined it, or portrayed it as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[447]</a></span> -experience knows it. He never tries to lift it out of nature -in either case, but leaves it more visibly and palpably a part -of the lowest as well as the highest humanity....</p> - -<p>'He comes nearer unriddling life for us than any other -writer. He persuades us that it cannot possibly give us any -personal happiness; that there is no room for the selfish joy -of any one except as it displaces the joy of some other, but -that for unselfish joy there is infinite place and occasion. -With the same key he unlocks the mystery of death; and -he imagines so strenuously that death is neither more nor -less than a transport of self-surrender that he convinces the -reason where there can be no proof. The reader will not -have forgotten how in those last moments of earth which he -has depicted, it is this utter giving up which is made to -appear the first moment of heaven. Nothing in his mastery -is so wonderful as his power upon us in the scenes of the -borderland where his vision seems to pierce the confines of -another world.'</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Tolstoy of the later phase, the last three decades, with -which the second volume of this work will deal, differed -from the Tolstoy of the first fifty years; but the later -Tolstoy grew out of the earlier, as the branches of a tree -grow from its roots.</p> - -<p>The difference lay chiefly in this: that from about the -year 1878 Tolstoy became sure of himself, succeeded in formulating -his outlook on life, and proceeded to examine and -pass judgment on all the main phases of human thought and -activity. His work was sometimes hasty and often harsh; he -painted in black and white, subjects really composed of many -shades of colours; but what other man has even attempted -so to examine, to portray, and to tell the frank truth about -all the greatest problems of life and death?</p> - -<p>No one really concerned to leave the world better than he -found it—be his line of work what it may—can afford to -ignore what Tolstoy has said on his subject.</p> - -<p>No such combination of intellectual and artistic force has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[448]</a></span> -in our times provoked the attention of mankind. No one -has so stimulated thought, or so successfully challenged -established opinions. Tolstoy has altered the outlook on -life of many men in many lands, and has caused some -to alter not their ideas merely, but the settled habits and -customs of their lives. Only those who neither know -nor understand him at all, ever question his sincerity.</p> - -<p>Those who have spoken scornfully of him are those who -have not taken the trouble to understand him. On the -other hand, the small minority who swallow his opinions -whole, do so under the hypnotic influence of his force, -fervour and genius. To analyse his opinions, and disentangle -what in them is true from what is false, is -a task no one has yet adequately performed, but for -which the time is ripe, and which, bold as the undertaking -may be, I mean to attempt.</p> - -<p>Tolstoy's marvellous artistic power, his sincerity, and the -love that is so strong a feature of his work, have often been -dwelt upon; but what really gives him his supreme importance -as a literary force is the <i>union</i> of all these things: -artistic capacity, sincerity and love, with a quite extraordinary -power of intellect.</p> - -<p>It is not given to any man to solve all the problems of -life; but no one has made so bold and interesting an -attempt to do so as Tolstoy, or has striven so hard to -make his solutions plain to every child of man.</p> - - -<h3>CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER XII</h3> - -<p>The literature that has grown up both in Russia and elsewhere -round Tolstoy's earlier writings is so voluminous, that I can merely -indicate a few of the best known works.</p> - -<p>In English we have:</p> - -<p>Matthew Arnold's essay: <i>Count Leo Tolstoi</i> in <i>Essays in Criticism, -Second Series</i>: Macmillan and Co., London.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[449]</a></span> -W. D. Howells has written several very readable and excellent essays -on Tolstoy. I have unfortunately mislaid my note of them. If any -American admirer of W. D. Howells will supply me with a list, I shall -be glad to include it in any future edition of this work.</p> - -<p>P. Kropotkin's <i>Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature</i> gives a very -good idea of Tolstoy's general influence and relation to Russian life -and literature generally.</p> - -<p>In Russian:</p> - -<p>Mihaylovsky's articles in his collected works are interesting.</p> - -<p>N. Strahof's <i>Krititcheskiya Statyi o Tourgeneve i Tolstom</i>, Petersburg, -1895, is excellent.</p> - -<p>V. Zelinsky's <i>Rousskaya Krititcheskaya Literatoura o proizvedeniyakh -L. N. Tolstovo</i> (7 vols.) reprints a large collection of Russian criticisms -on Tolstoy's works.</p> - -<p>D. S. Merezhkovsky's <i>Zhizn i tvortchestvo L. N. Tolstovo i Dostoyevskavo</i> -contains some acute literary criticism, but for all that relates -to Tolstoy as a man, it is worse than useless. Merezhkovsky did not -know Tolstoy personally when he wrote about him. He relied on the -works of Behrs and Anna Seuron, and even that scrappy information -he used unfairly. His talk about scents and fine linen, and in general -his whole characterisation of Tolstoy, is spiteful, and to those who -know the man attacked, it is merely ridiculous.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[450]</a></span></p> - - -<h2 id="chrono">CHRONOLOGY</h2> - -<p><i>As in the text, dates are given old style, except those relating to -the Crimean War and to Tolstoy's travels abroad.</i></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="publications"> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1645</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Peter Tolstoy born.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1725</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Peter Tolstoy made a Count.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1727</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Exiled.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1729</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Died.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1814</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Count Nicholas Tolstoy captured by French.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1822</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Marriage of Tolstoy's parents.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1828</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">(28 Aug. o.s.) <b>Birth of Leo Tolstoy.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1830</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Death of Leo Tolstoy's mother.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1837</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Death of father and grandmother. Return to Yásnaya Polyána.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1840</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Famine Year.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1841</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Death of the Countess Osten-Sáken. Move to Kazán.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1844</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2"><b>Matriculates at Kazán University.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1847</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Leaves the University.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1848</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Passes two examinations at Petersburg University.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1849</td> - <td class="tdl" colspan="2">Starts Peasant Children's School at Yásnaya.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1851</td> - <td class="tdr">20 April</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Leaves Yásnaya for Caucasus.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl">Goes on expedition from Starogládovsk.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Nov.</td> - <td class="tdl">At Tiflis; writing <i>Childhood</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Dec. (end)</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Appointed Junker.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1852</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl">Sádo's friendship.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl">Goes on expedition.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">2 July</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Finishes <i>Childhood</i>.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">28 Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl">Receives letter from Nekrásof accepting <i>Childhood</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[451]</a></span></td> - <td class="tdr">Nov.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b><i>Childhood</i> appears in <i>Contemporary</i>.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">24 Dec.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Raid</i> finished.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1853</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl">Serves against Shámyl.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">18 Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl">Nearly killed by grenade.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">March</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Raid</i> appears in <i>Contemporary</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">13 June</td> - <td class="tdl">Chased by Tartars.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">July to Oct.</td> - <td class="tdl">Stays at Pyatigórsk.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Oct.</td> - <td class="tdl">War between Russia and Turkey.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1854</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Receives his commission.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">2 Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl">Revisits Yásnaya Polyána.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">End of Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl">Starts for Bucharest.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">March</td> - <td class="tdl">War: England and France against Russia.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">March</td> - <td class="tdl">Tolstoy reaches Bucharest.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">June (end)</td> - <td class="tdl">Siege of Silistria abandoned.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl">Tolstoy leaves Bucharest for Russia.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">14 Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Allies land in Crimea.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Oct.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Boyhood</i> appears in <i>Contemporary</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">17 Oct.</td> - <td class="tdl">Bombardment of Sevastopol.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Nov. (end)</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Tolstoy reaches Sevastopol.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Dec.</td> - <td class="tdl">Stationed at Simferópol.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1855</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Memoirs of a Billiard Marker</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">13 April to 27 May</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Serves in Sevastopol, in Fourth Bastion.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">June</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Sevastopol in December</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Sevastopol in May</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">16 Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl">In Battle of Tchérnaya.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Wood-Felling</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">8 Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Maláhof captured by French. Sevastopol abandoned by Russians.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Tolstoy returns to Petersburg.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1856</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Sevastopol in August</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan. (end)</td> - <td class="tdl">Death of Demetrius Tolstoy.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">March</td> - <td class="tdl">Russia concludes peace with England, France, and Turkey.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[452]</a></span></td> - <td class="tdr">March</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Snow Storm</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">May</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Two Hussars</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Summer</td> - <td class="tdl">Engagement with V. V. A.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Nov.</td> - <td class="tdl">Grand Duke Michael displeased about Soldiers' Song.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">26 Nov.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Tolstoy leaves the army.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Dec.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Dec.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>A Squire's Morning</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1857</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Youth</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">10 Feb. (<span class="smcap">N.S.</span>)</td> - <td class="tdl">Leaves Moscow for Paris.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">April</td> - <td class="tdl">Visits Switzerland.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">July</td> - <td class="tdl">Stays at Lucerne.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl">Returns to Yásnaya Polyána.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Lucerne</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1858</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl">Writes <i>Three Deaths</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">March</td> - <td class="tdl">Visits Petersburg. Helps to found Moscow Musical Society.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Albert</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Signs Resolution of Nobles concerning Emancipation.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">22 Dec.</td> - <td class="tdl">Nearly killed by bear.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1859</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Three Deaths</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">4 Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl">Speaks on Art to Society of Lovers of Russian Literature.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">April</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Family Happiness</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Winter</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Organises School at Yásnaya.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1860</td> - <td class="tdr">15 July</td> - <td class="tdl">Leaves Petersburg for Berlin.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">15 July</td> - <td class="tdl">Visits Auerbach in Dresden.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">July and Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl">At Kissingen for his health.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">20 Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Nicholas Tolstoy dies</b> at Hyčres.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Winter</td> - <td class="tdl">Visits Florence, Rome, Naples, Marseilles.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1861</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl">Revisits Paris.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl">Visits London.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">5 May</td> - <td class="tdl">Re-enters Russia.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[453]</a></span></td> - <td class="tdr">26 May</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Challenges Tourgénef.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl">Commences work as <b>Arbiter of the Peace</b>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1861-2</td> - <td class="tdr">Winter</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Occupied with his school.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1862</td> - <td class="tdr">Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b><i>Yásnaya Polyána</i> magazine appears.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">May</td> - <td class="tdl">Discharged from office of Arbiter of the Peace 'on ground of ill-health.'</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">May and June</td> - <td class="tdl">Takes koumýs cure in Samára Government.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Police raid on Yásnaya Polyána.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">17 Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Proposes to Miss S. A. Behrs.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">23 Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Marries.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">3 Oct.</td> - <td class="tdl">Minister of Interior disapprove of <i>Yásnaya Polyána</i> magazine.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">15 Oct.</td> - <td class="tdl">School abandoned.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1863</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b><i>The Cossacks</i> published.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>Polikoúshka</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">28 June</td> - <td class="tdl">Eldest son, Sergius, born.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1864</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl"><i>War and Peace</i> commenced.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Dislocates arm while hunting.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Collected edition of Tolstoy's works published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">4 Oct.</td> - <td class="tdl">Birth of daughter, Tatiána.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1865</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan. and Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>First part of <i>War and Peace</i> published.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Autumn</td> - <td class="tdl">Visits battlefield of Borodinó.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1866</td> - <td class="tdr">May</td> - <td class="tdl">Second son, Ilyá, born.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">June</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Defends soldier at court-martial.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1867</td> - <td class="tdr">Summer</td> - <td class="tdl">Treated by Zahárin for indigestion.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1868</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl">Publication of <i>War and Peace</i> continued.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1869</td> - <td class="tdr">20 May</td> - <td class="tdl">Third son Leo, born.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Nov.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b><i>War and Peace</i> completed.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1869-70</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl">Studies the drama.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1870-1</td> - <td class="tdr">Winter</td> - <td class="tdl">Studies Greek.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[454]</a></span>1871</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl">Works at <i>ABC</i> Book.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">12 Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl">Birth of daughter, Mary.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">June-July</td> - <td class="tdl">Koumýs cure in Samára.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1872</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl">Re-starts school.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b><i>A Prisoner in the Caucasus</i> published.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl"><i>God Sees the Truth</i> published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">13 June</td> - <td class="tdl">Son, Peter, born.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Confined to Yásnaya by Investigating Magistrate.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Nov.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b><i>ABC</i> Book published.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1872-3</td> - <td class="tdr">Winter</td> - <td class="tdl">Prepares to write novel of Peter the Great's time.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1873</td> - <td class="tdr">May</td> - <td class="tdl">Goes with family to Samára.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">17 Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Samára Famine; Tolstoy's appeal.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Kramskóy paints his portrait.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">9 Nov.</td> - <td class="tdl">Death of son, Peter.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1874</td> - <td class="tdr">15 Jan.</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Speaks on Learning to Read.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">22 April</td> - <td class="tdl">Son, Nicholas, born.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">20 June</td> - <td class="tdl">Death of Aunt Tatiána.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Publishes article, <i>On Popular Education</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1875</td> - <td class="tdr">20 Feb.</td> - <td class="tdl">Death of son, Nicholas.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl"><i>New ABC</i> Book published.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.-April</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>First Installment of <i>Anna Karénina</i> published.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Summer</td> - <td class="tdl">Horse races at Samára.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">1 Nov.</td> - <td class="tdl">Baby daughter, Varvára, born and died.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Dec.</td> - <td class="tdl">Death of Pelagéya I. Úshkof.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1876</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.-April and Dec.</td> - <td class="tdl">Further instalments of <i>Anna Karénina</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl">Observes Church rites and fasts.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">Sept.</td> - <td class="tdl">Visit to Samára and Orenbourg.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1877</td> - <td class="tdr">Jan.-April</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Final Installments of <i>Anna Karénina</i> published.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl">Rupture with Katkóf.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[455]</a></span></td> - <td class="tdr">6 Dec.</td> - <td class="tdl">Son, Andrew, born.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdr">1878</td> - <td class="tdr">March</td> - <td class="tdl">Visits Petropávlof Fortress.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - <td class="tdl">Abandons <i>The Decembrists</i>.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">May</td> - <td class="tdl"><b>Reconciliation with Tourgénef.</b></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="tdc">"</td> - <td class="tdr">7 Aug.</td> - <td class="tdl">Tourgénef at Yásnaya Polyána.</td> -</tr> - - -</table> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="footnotes"><h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The dates mentioned in the text are usually old style (twelve days -behind our calendar), unless the contrary is expressly stated.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Russian babies are usually swaddled tightly with bands, making them -look like fresh mummies.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> All that you say about the perversity of play is very true, and -I often think about it, and that is why I believe that I shall gamble no -more.... 'I believe,' but I hope soon to tell you for certain.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> I went to the fęte at Sokólniki in detestable weather, which was -why I did not meet any of the society ladies I wished to see. As you -say I am a man who tests himself, I went among the plebs in the -gipsy tents. You can easily imagine the inward struggle I there -experienced, for and against. However, I came out victorious: -that is to say, having given nothing but my blessing to the gay -descendants of the illustrious Pharaohs. Nicholas considers me a -very agreeable travelling companion, except for my cleanliness. He -is cross because he says I change my linen 12 times a day. I also -find him a very agreeable companion, except for his dirtiness. I do -not know which of us is right.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Nicholas left within a week of his arrival and I have followed him, -so that we have now been almost three weeks here, lodging in a tent -But as the weather is fine and I am getting accustomed to this kind -of life, I feel very well. There are magnificent views here, beginning -where the springs are situated. It is an enormous mountain of rocks -one upon another, some of which are detached and form, as it were, -grottoes; others remain suspended at a great height. They are all -intersected by torrents of hot water which fall noisily in certain parts -and, especially in the morning, cover the whole upper part of the -mountain with a white vapour which this boiling water continually -gives off. The water is so hot that one can boil eggs hard in three -minutes. In the middle of this ravine, by the chief torrent, stand -three mills one above the other, built in a quite peculiar and very -picturesque manner. All day long, above and below these mills, -Tartar women come unceasingly to wash clothes. I should mention -that they wash with their feet. It is like an ant-hill, always in -motion. The women, for the most part, are beautiful and well formed. -In spite of their poverty the costumes of Oriental women are graceful. -The picturesque groups formed by the women, added to the -savage beauty of the place, furnish a really admirable <i>coup d'œil</i>. -I very often remain for hours admiring the view. Then again, in -quite a different way, the view from the top of the mountain is even -more beautiful. But I fear to weary you with my descriptions.</p> - -<p>I am very glad to be at the springs, for I benefit by them. I take -ferruginous baths, and no longer have pain in my feet.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Do you remember, dear Aunt, the advice you once gave me—to -write novels? Well, I am following your advice, and the occupation -I mentioned to you consists in producing literature. I do not know -if what I am writing will ever be published, but it is work that -amuses me, and in which I have persevered too long to abandon it.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> I have just received your letter of 24 November, and I reply -at once (as I have formed the habit of doing). I wrote you lately -that your letter made me cry, and I blamed my illness for that weakness. -I was wrong. For some time past all your letters have had -the same effect on me. I always was Leo Cry-baby. Formerly I was -ashamed of this weakness, but the tears I shed when thinking of you, -and of your love for us, are so sweet that I let them flow without any -false shame. Your letter is too full of sadness not to produce the -same effect on me. It is you who have always given me counsel, -and though unfortunately I have not always followed it, I should -wish all my life to act only in accord with your advice. For the -moment, permit me to tell you the effect your letter has had on me, -and the thoughts that have come to me while reading it. If I speak -too freely, I know you will forgive it, on account of the love I have -for you. By saying that it is your turn to leave us, to rejoin those -who are no more and whom you have loved so much, by saying that -you ask God to set a limit to your life which seems to you so insupportable -and isolated—pardon me, dear Aunt, but it seems to me that -in so saying you offend God and me and all of us who love you so -much. You ask God for death, that is to say, for the greatest misfortune -that can happen to me. (This is not a phrase, for God is -my witness that the two greatest misfortunes that could come to me -would be your death and that of Nicholas—the two persons whom I -love more than myself.) What would be left to me if God granted -your prayer? To please whom should I then wish to become better, -to have good qualities and a good reputation in the world? When -I make plans of happiness for myself, the idea that you will share -and enjoy my happiness is always present. When I do anything -good, I am satisfied with myself because I know you will be satisfied -with me. When I act badly, what I most fear is to cause you -grief. Your love is everything to me, and you ask God to separate -us! I cannot tell you what I feel for you; words do not suffice to -express it. I fear lest you should think I exaggerate, and yet I shed -hot tears while writing to you.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> To-day one of those things happened to me which would have -made me believe in God, if I had not for some time past firmly -believed in Him.</p> - -<p>In summer, at Stáry Urt, all the officers who were there did nothing -but play, and play rather high. As, living in camp, one has to -meet frequently, I was very often present at play, but in spite of -persuasions I kept steady for a month; but one fine day for fun I -put down a small stake. I lost, staked again, and lost again. I was -in bad luck; the passion for play reawoke in me, and in two days I -had lost all the money I had, and what Nicholas gave me (about -Rs. 250) and another Rs. 500 besides, for which I gave a note-of-hand -payable in January 1852.</p> - -<p>I should tell you that near the camp there is an Aoul [native -village] inhabited by Circassians. A young fellow (a Circassian) -named Sádo used to come to the camp and play; but as he could -neither reckon nor write, there were scamps who cheated him. For -that reason I never wished to play against Sádo, and I even told him -that he ought not to play, because he was being cheated; and I -offered to play for him. He was very grateful to me for this, and -presented me with a purse; and as it is the custom of that nation to -exchange presents, I gave him a wretched gun I had bought for -Rs. 8. I should tell you that to become a <i>Kounák</i>, that is to say, a -<i>friend</i>, it is customary to exchange presents, and afterwards to eat in -the house of one's <i>Kounák</i>. After that, according to the ancient -custom of these peoples (which hardly exists now except as a tradition) -you become friends for life and death: that is to say, if I asked -of him all his money, or his wife, or his weapons, or all the most -precious things he has, he must give them to me, and I also must -not refuse him anything. Sádo made me promise to come to his -house and become his Kounák. I went. After having regaled me -in their fashion, he asked me to choose anything in his house that I -liked: his weapons, his horse—anything. I wished to choose what -was of least value, and took a horse's bridle with silver mountings; -but he said I was offending him, and obliged me to take a sword worth -at least Rs. 100.</p> - -<p>His father is a rather rich man, but keeps his money buried, and -does not give his son a cent. The son, to have money, goes and -steals horses and cows from the enemy. Sometimes he risks his life -20 times to steal something not worth Rs. 10, but he does it not -from greed, but because it is 'the thing.' The greatest robber is -most esteemed, and is called <i>Dzhigit</i>, 'a <i>Brave</i>.' Sometimes Sádo -has Rs. 1000, sometimes not a cent. After one visit to him, I gave -him Nicholas's silver watch, and we became the greatest friends in -the world. He has proved his devotion several times by exposing -himself to danger for my sake; but that is nothing to him—it has -become a habit and a pleasure.</p> - -<p>When I left Stáry Urt and Nicholas remained there, Sádo used to -go to him every day, saying that he did not know how to get on -without me, and that he felt terribly dull. I wrote to Nicholas -saying that as my horse was ill I begged him to find me one at Stáry -Urt. Sádo having learnt this, must needs come to me and give me -his horse, in spite of all I could do to refuse it.</p> - -<p>After the folly I committed in playing at Stáry Urt, I did not touch -a card again, and I was always lecturing Sádo, who is devoted to -gambling and, though he does not know how to play, always has -astonishing luck. Yesterday evening I was engaged in considering -my money matters and my debts, and thinking how I was to pay -them. Having long thought of these things, I saw that if I do not -spend too much, all my debts will not embarrass me, but can be paid -off little by little in 2 or 3 years; but the Rs. 500 that I had to pay -this month, threw me into despair. It was impossible for me to -pay it, and at the moment it embarrassed me much more than did -previously the 4000 of Ogaryóf. The stupidity, after having contracted -those debts in Russia, of coming here and adding fresh ones, made -me despair. In the evening while saying my prayers, I asked God—and -very fervently—to get me out of this disagreeable scrape. 'But -how can I get out of this scrape?' thought I, as I lay down. 'Nothing -can happen that will make it possible for me to meet that debt.' -I already pictured to myself all the unpleasantnesses I should have to -go through because of it. (See English sentence in the French text, -above.)</p> - -<p>Next day I received a letter from Nicholas enclosing yours and -several others. He wrote me: (See English sentence in the French -text, above).</p> - -<p>Is it not astonishing to see one's petitions granted like this the very -next day? That is to say, there is nothing so wonderful as the divine -goodness to one who merits it so little as I. And is not the trait of -Sádo's devotion admirable? He knows I have a brother Sergius, who -loves horses, and as I have promised to take him to Russia when -I go, he tells me that, if it costs him his life 100 times over, he -will steal the best horse to be found in the mountains, and will take -it to him.</p> - -<p>Please, have a 6-barrelled pistol bought in Toúla and sent to me, -and also a musical-box, if that does not cost too much. These are -things which will give him much pleasure.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Religion and the experience I have of life (however small it may -be) have taught me that life is a trial. In my case it is more than a -trial, it is also an expiation of my faults.</p> - -<p>It seems to me that the frivolous idea I had of journeying to the -Caucasus was an idea with which I was inspired from above. It is -the hand of God that has guided me—I do not cease to thank Him -for it. I feel that I have become better here (and that is not saying -much, for I was very bad) and I am firmly persuaded that all that can -happen to me here can only be for my good, since it is God himself -who has so willed it. Perhaps it is a very audacious notion; -nevertheless it is my conviction. That is why I bear the fatigues and the -physical privations I have mentioned (they are not physical privations: -there are none for a fellow of 23 who is in good health) without -resenting them, and even with a kind of pleasure in thinking of the -happiness that awaits me.</p> - -<p>This is how I picture it:</p> - -<p>After an indefinite number of years, neither young nor old, I am at -Yásnaya; my affairs are in order, I have no anxieties or worries. -You also live at Yásnaya. You have aged a little, but you are still -fresh and in good health. We lead the life we used to lead. I work -in the morning, but we see one another almost all day. We have -dinner. In the evening I read aloud something which does not weary -you, and then we talk. I tell you of my life in the Caucasus, you -tell me your recollections of my father and my mother; and you -tell me the 'terrible tales' we used to listen to with frightened eyes -and open mouths. We remind each other of those who were dear to -us and who are now no more; you will weep, I shall do the same, -but those tears will be sweet; we shall talk about my brothers, -who will come to see us from time to time; of dear Marie, who -with all her children will also spend some months of the year at -Yásnaya, which she loves so much. We shall have no acquaintances—no -one will come to weary us and carry tales. It is a -beautiful dream, but it is not all that I let myself dream.—I am -married. My wife is a gentle creature, kind and affectionate; she -has the same love for you as I have. We have children who call you -Grandmamma; you live upstairs in the big house, in what used to be -Grandmamma's room. The whole house is as it was in Papa's time, -and we recommence the same life, only changing our rôles. You take -the rôle of Grandmamma, but you are still better; I take Papa's -place, though I despair of ever deserving it; my wife, that of -Mamma; the children take ours; Marie, that of the two aunts (excepting -their misfortunes) ... but some one will be lacking to take -the part you played in our family—never will any one be found with -a soul so beautiful, so loving, as yours. You have no successor. -There will be three new characters who will appear from time to time -on the scene—the brothers, especially the one who will often be -with us, Nicholas: an old bachelor, bald, retired from service, as -good and noble as ever.</p> - -<p>I imagine how he will, as of old, tell the children fairy tales -of his own invention, and how they will kiss his greasy hands -(but which are worthy of it), how he will play with them, how -my wife will bustle about to get him his favourite dishes, how -he and I will recall our common memories of days long past, -how you will sit in your accustomed place and listen to us with -pleasure; how, as of yore, you will call us, old men, 'Lyóvotchka' -and 'Nikólenka,' and will scold me for eating with -my fingers, and him for not having clean hands.</p> - -<p>If they made me Emperor of Russia, or gave me Peru: in a word, -if a fairy came with her wand asking me what I wished for—my hand -on my conscience, I should reply that I only wish that this dream -may become a reality.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> During this expedition, I twice had the chance of being presented -to receive a St. George's Cross, and I was prevented from -receiving it by that confounded paper being a few days late. I was -nominated to receive it on 18 February (my name's day), but it had -to be refused me for want of that paper. The list of nominations was -sent off on the 19th, the paper came on the 20th. I frankly confess -that of all military honours, that little cross is the only one which -I have had the vanity to desire.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> There is too great a difference in the education, the sentiments, -and the point of view of those I meet here, for me to find any -pleasure in their company. Only Nicholas, in spite of the enormous -difference between him and all these gentlemen, has the talent to -amuse himself with them, and to be loved by all. I envy him this -talent, but feel that I cannot do the same.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> There was a time when I was vain of my intelligence, of my position -in the world, and of my name; but now I know and feel that if -there is anything good in me, and if I have anything to thank Providence -for, it is for a good heart, sensitive and capable of love, which -it has pleased it to give me and to preserve in me.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The Cossack hunter Epíshka, the original of Eróshka, who figures so -prominently in <i>The Cossacks</i>.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Prince Gortchakóf was not here. He arrived yesterday, and I -have just come from his lodgings. He received me better than I -expected—quite as a relation. He embraced me, and made me promise -to dine at his house every day. He wants to keep me near him, but -this is not yet decided.</p> - -<p>Forgive me, dear Aunt, for writing but little to you—I have not -yet collected my wits; this large and fine town, all these presentations, -the Italian opera, the French theatre, the two young Gortchakófs, -who are very fine lads ... so that I have not remained two -hours at home, and have not thought of my duties.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> While you are fancying me exposed to all the dangers of war, I -have not yet smelt Turkish powder, but am very quietly at Bucharest, -strolling about, making music, and eating ices. In fact, all this time, -except for two weeks I spent at Oltenitza, where I was attached to a -battery, and one week I passed making excursions in Moldavia -Wallachia and Bessarabia by order of General Serzhpoutóvsky, on -whose staff I now am by special appointment, I have been at Bucharest; -and to speak frankly, the rather dissipated, quite idle and very -expensive kind of life that I lead here, displeases me very much. -Formerly it was the service that kept me here; but now for three -weeks I have been kept here by a fever caught during my journey, -but from which, thank God, I have for the present recovered sufficiently -to be able in two or three days' time to rejoin my General, who -is in camp near Silistria. Apropos of my General, he appears to be -a very fine fellow, and though we know each other very slightly, -seems well disposed toward me. What is also agreeable is that his -staff consists for the most part of gentlemen.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> I am going to tell you of my recollections of Silistria. I there -saw so much that was interesting, poetic and touching, that the time -I passed there will never be effaced from my memory. Our camp was -on the other side of the Danube, <i>i.e.</i> on the right bank, on very high -ground amid splendid gardens belonging to Mustafa Pasha, the -Governor of Silistria. The view from that place is not only magnificent, -but of the greatest interest to us all. Not to speak of the -Danube, its islets and its banks, some occupied by us, others by the -Turks, one could see the town, the fortress and the little forts of -Silistria as on the palm of one's hand. One heard the booming of -cannon and musket-shots unceasingly day and night; and with a spy-glass -one could distinguish the Turkish soldiers. It is true it is -a queer sort of pleasure to see people killing one another, yet every -evening and every morning I got on to my cart and remained for -hours at a time, watching: nor was I the only one who did so. The -sight was really fine, especially at night. At night my soldiers usually -undertake trench-work, and the Turks fling themselves upon them to -hinder them; then one should see and hear the fusillade! The first -night I passed in camp, this dreadful noise awoke and frightened me: -I thought an assault had begun. I very soon had my horse saddled; -but those who had been already some time in camp told me that I had -only to keep quiet: that this cannonade and fusillade was an ordinary -affair, and they jestingly called it 'Allah.' Then I lay down again; -but not being able to sleep, I amused myself, watch in hand, counting -the cannon-shots, and I counted 110 reports in a minute. And yet, -at close quarters, all this did not look so terrible as might be supposed. -At night, when nothing was visible, it was a case of who could burn -most powder, and with all these thousands of cannon-shots at most -some thirty men were killed on each side....</p> - -<p>This then was an ordinary performance we had every day, and one -in which I took a share when I was sent to the trenches with orders; -but we also had extraordinary performances, such as the one on the eve -of the attack, when a mine of 240 poods (8600 lbs.) of gunpowder was -exploded under one of the enemy's bastions. On the morning of that -day the Prince had been to the trenches with all his staff (and as the -General I was attached to belong to it, I was there too) to make the -final arrangements for next day's assault. The plan—too long for me -to explain here—was so well arranged, all was so well foreseen, that -no one doubted its success. Apropos of this I must tell you further -that I am beginning to feel admiration for the Prince (for that -matter you should hear how the officers and soldiers speak of him: -not only have I never heard him spoken ill of, but he is generally -adored).</p> - -<p>That morning I saw him under fire for the first time. You should -see his rather absurd tall figure, his hands behind his back, his cap on -the back of his head, his spectacles, and his way of speaking like a -turkey-cock. One could see that he was so preoccupied with the -general trend of affairs that the balls and bullets did not exist as far -as he was concerned. He exposes himself to danger so simply that -one would say he was unconscious of it, and involuntarily one fears -it only for oneself; [The text here is obscure, and the meaning a -little doubtful] and then he gives his orders with such clearness and -precision, and is at the same time always so affable with everybody. -He is a great man, <i>i.e.</i> a capable and honest man, as I understand the -word: one who has dedicated his whole life to the service of his -country, and not from ambition, but for the sake of duty. I will give -you a trait of his character connected with the story I had begun to tell -you of the assault. After dinner that same day, the mine was sprung, -and nearly 600 guns opened fire on the fort we wished to take, and -this continued the whole night. It was such a sight and such an -emotion as one never forgets. That evening the Prince, amid all -the commotion, went to sleep in the trenches, that he might -personally direct the assault, which was to begin at 3 o'clock the -same night.</p> - -<p>We were all there, and as usual on the eve of a battle, we all made -believe not to think of the morrow more than of any other day, and -we all, I am sure, at bottom, felt our hearts contract a little (and not -a little, but a great deal) at the thought of the assault. As you know, -the time before a fight is the most disagreeable: it is only then that -one has time to be afraid, and fear is a most disagreeable feeling. -Towards morning, the nearer the moment came the more the feeling -diminished, and towards 3 o'clock when we were all expecting to see -a shower of rockets let off, which was the signal for the attack, -I was so well inclined for it that I should have been much disappointed -if any one had come to tell me that the attack was not to -take place. And there! Just an hour before the time for the attack, -an aide-de-camp comes from the Field-Marshal [Paskévitch, who for -a time took over the supreme command of the army of the Danube] -with orders to raise the siege of Silistria! I can say, without fear of -making a mistake, that this news was received by all, soldiers, officers, -and generals, as a real misfortune, the more so as we knew from the -spies—who very often came to us from Silistria, and with whom I very -often had occasion to speak—that once we had taken this fort (about -which none of us felt any doubt) Silistria could not have held out for -more than 2 or 3 days. Is it not true that if this news was calculated -to pain any one, it must have been the Prince, who having all through -this campaign arranged everything for the best, yet saw, in the very -middle of the action, the Field-Marshal override him and spoil the -business? Having this one chance to repair our reverses by this -assault, he received counter-orders from the Field-Marshal at the -moment of commencing! Well, the Prince was not put out of temper -for a moment. He who is so impressionable, was, on the contrary, -pleased to be able to avoid that butchery, the responsibility for which -he would have had to bear; and during the whole time of the retreat—which -he directed personally, not wishing to cross (the Danube) -before the last of the soldiers—which took place with remarkable -order and exactitude, he was gayer than he has ever been. What -contributed much to his good humour, was the emigration of nearly -7000 Bulgarian families, whom we took with us as a reminder of the -ferocity of the Turks: a ferocity in which, in spite of my incredulity, -I was obliged to believe. As soon as we quitted the different Bulgarian -villages we had occupied, the Turks returned to them, and -except women young enough for a harem, they made a clean sweep of -all that was in them. There was one village to which I went from the -camp for milk and fruit, which had been exterminated in this way. -So, as soon as the Prince let the Bulgarians know that those who -wished to, could cross the Danube with our army and could become -Russian subjects, the whole country rose, and with their wives, -children, horses and cattle, came to the bridge: but as it was impossible -to take them all, the Prince was obliged to refuse the last -arrivals, and you should have seen how it grieved him to do so. He -received all the deputations which came from these poor folk, and -spoke with them all: trying to explain the impossibility of the -matter, offering to let them cross without their carts and cattle, -charging himself with their support till they could reach Russia, and -out of his own purse paying for private ships to transport them; in a -word, doing his very best for the welfare of these people.</p> - -<p>Yes, dear Aunt, I should much like your prophecy to come true. -What I desire most is to be aide-de-camp to such a man as he, whom -I love and esteem from the bottom of my heart. Adieu, dear and -kind Aunt. I kiss your hands.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> In this chapter the dates, when possible, are given new style (12 days -later than the Russian style), in order that they may tally with English -accounts of the Crimean war.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18" id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> This must refer to some family joke, as it occurs in other letters home, -apropos of people who were killed.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19" id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Father of the present (1908) Premier of Russia.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20" id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> There is no more fighting in the open country on account of the -winter, which is extraordinarily rigorous, particularly just now; but -the siege still goes on.... I think I have mentioned an occupation -I had in view, which promised very well—as I may say, now that it -is settled. I had the idea of founding a military newspaper. This -project, at which I worked with the co-operation of many very distinguished -men, was approved by the Prince and submitted to His -Majesty for his consent, but he has refused.</p> - -<p>This disappointment has, I confess, distressed me greatly, and has -much altered my plans. If God wills that the Crimean campaign -should end well, and if I do not receive an appointment that satisfies -me, and if there is no war in Russia, I shall leave the army and go -to Petersburg to the Military Academy. I have formed this plan, -(1) because I do not want to abandon literature, at which it is impossible -to work amid this camp life; (2) because it seems to me that -I am becoming ambitious: not ambitious, but I want to do some -good, and to do it one must be something more than a Sub-Lieutenant, -and (3) because I shall see you all and all my friends.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21" id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> The <i>8th September</i>, new style, was <i>24th August</i>, old style.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22" id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> The Battle of Alma, fought on 8th September, old style = 20th September, -new style.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23" id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Prince Alexander Ménshikof, who was Commander-in-Chief in the Crimea -till replaced by Gortchakóf. Besides being diplomatist and General, he was -also an Admiral. In the other verses he is nicknamed 'Ménshik.'</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24" id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> After the Battle of Alma, Ménshikof retreated northward to Baktchiseráy, -almost abandoning Sevastopol.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25" id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Saint Arnaud, the French Commander-in-Chief.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26" id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Prince Alexander Ménshikof.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27" id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Bags of sand were used as temporary protection from behind which to -fire.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28" id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Count Osten-Sáken was sent to advise Ménshikof and to report to the -Tsar on his operations.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29" id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> The Grand Dukes alluded to above.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30" id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Alexander II, who succeeded Nicholas I on 2nd March (n.s.) 1855.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31" id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Dear Aunt</span>,—I have received my passport for abroad, and I have -come to Moscow to pass some days with Mary, and to take leave of -you. (See sentences in English in letter above.)</p> - -<p>But now I have reconsidered the matter, especially on -Máshenka's advice, and have decided to remain with her here -a week or two and then to go straight through Warsaw to -Paris. You no doubt understand, <i>chčre tante</i>, why I do not -wish and why it is not right for me to come now to Yásnaya, -or rather to Soudakóva. I, it seems, have acted very badly in -relation to V., but were I to see her now, I should behave still -worse. As I wrote you, I am more than indifferent to her, and -feel that I can no longer deceive either her or myself. But -were I to come, I might perhaps, from weakness of character, -again delude myself.</p> - -<p>Do you remember, dear Aunt, how you made fun of me when I -told you I was going to Petersburg 'to test myself'? Yet it is that -idea that has saved me from bringing misery on the young lady and -on myself; for do not suppose that it is a case of inconstancy or unfaithfulness. -No one has taken my fancy during these two months, -but simply I have come to see that I was deceiving myself, and that -I not only never had, but never shall have, the least feeling of true -love for V. V. A. The only things which give me much pain are -that I have hurt the young lady, and that I cannot take leave of you -before my departure....</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32" id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> If Mlle. Vergani, who has written me so absurd a letter, would -remember my whole conduct towards V. V. A., how I tried to come -as seldom as possible, and how it was she who induced me to come -more frequently and to enter into closer relations. I understand her -being vexed that an affair she much desired has not come off (I perhaps -am more vexed about it than she) but that is no reason for her -to tell a man who has tried to act as well as he could, and who has -made sacrifices in order not to make others unhappy, that he is a pig, -and to spread that report about. I am sure all Toúla is convinced -that I am the greatest of monsters....</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33" id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Tolstoy makes a slip here: he was over twenty-seven.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34" id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> See Golovátcheva-Panáeva's <i>Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty</i>.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35" id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> I spent a month-and-a-half in Paris, and so agreeably that every -day I said to myself that I had done well to come abroad. I went very -little either into society or into the literary world, or into the world of -<i>cafés</i> and public balls; but in spite of that I found so many things -that were new and interesting to me, that every day on going to bed -I said to myself, 'What a pity the day has passed so quickly.' I have -not even had time to work, which I intended to do.</p> - -<p>Poor Tourgénef is very ill physically, and still more so morally. -His daughter, and especially his unfortunate <i>liaison</i> with Madame -Viardot, keep him here in a climate which is bad for him, and it -makes one sad to see him. I should never have believed that he -could be so in love.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36" id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> I have just received your letter, dear Aunt, which found me, as you -must know from my last letter, at Clarens, in the neighbourhood of -Geneva, in the same village where Rousseau's Julie lived.... I will -not try to depict the beauty of this country, especially at present -when all is in leaf and flower; I will only say that it is literally impossible -to detach oneself from this lake and from these banks, and -that I spend most of my time gazing and admiring while I walk, or -simply sit at the window of my room.</p> - -<p>I do not cease congratulating myself on the thought which made -me leave Paris and come to pass the spring here, though I have -thereby deserved your reproach for inconstancy. Truly I am happy, -and begin to feel the advantage of having been born with a caul.</p> - -<p>There is some charming Russian society here: les Poúshkins, the -Karamzíns and the Mestchérskys; and they have all, Heaven -knows why, taken to liking me; I feel it, and the month I have -spent here I have been so nice and good and cosy, that I am -sad at the thought of leaving.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37" id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> I am again all alone, and I confess that very often the solitude is -painful to me, for the acquaintanceships one makes in hotels and on -the railways are not a resource. But there is at least this much good -in this loneliness—it prompts me to work. I am working a little, -but it goes badly, as usual in summer.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38" id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> God, who is goodness itself, cannot desire our pain.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39" id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> To make my mouth water.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40" id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Included in the <i>World's Classics</i>.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41" id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> To work like a peasant. The origin of this word is given on p. 179.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42" id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Who is that singular person?—inquired my -visitors in astonishment.</p> - -<p>Why, it is Leo Tolstoy!</p> - -<p>Ah, good heavens! Why did you not tell us who it was? After -reading his admirable writings, we were dying to see him.—said -they, reproachfully.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43" id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> In the volume <i>Essays and Letters</i>, included in the <i>World's Classics</i>.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44" id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> I am in good health and burn with desire to return to Russia. -But once in Europe and not knowing when I shall return, you -understand that I wanted to benefit as much as possible by my -travels. And I think I have done so. I am bringing back such a -great quantity of impressions and facts, that I must work a long -time before I can get it all in order in my head.</p> - -<p>I am bringing with me a German from the University, to be -a teacher and clerk, a very nice, well-educated man, but still -very young and unpractical.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45" id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> In one edition after another of Tolstoy's works, the article referred to -above is called 'Yásno-Polyána School in Nov. and Dec. 1862,' though the -article itself appeared in the first number of <i>Yásnaya Polyána</i>, in February -of that year. In small matters of detail of this kind, Tolstoy has always -been careless.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46" id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> The daring Caucasian leader mentioned by Tolstoy in a letter quoted in -Chapter III.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47" id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Some details of this crime are given in 'Why do Men Stupefy Themselves?' -in <i>Essays and letters</i>, published in the <i>World's Classics</i>.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48" id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> This word, when first invented by Nicholas Tolstoy, meant ploughing, -but it had by now come to mean farming in general.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49" id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Published by Walter Scott, Ltd., London, and by T. Y. Crowell and -Co., New York.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50" id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Published by Messrs. A. Constable and Co., London, and Funk and -Wagnalls Co., New York.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51" id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> <i>What is Art?</i> p. 54: Constable, London, and Funk and Wagnalls -Co., New York.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_52" id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i>, p. 65.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_53" id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> This letter evidently relates to the year 1875, though in Fet's <i>Vospominániya</i> -it is given as belonging to 1874.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_54" id="Footnote_54" href="#FNanchor_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> It is strange that Tolstoy's <i>Confession</i> has not yet been put into English -at all reproducing the vigorous simplicity of the original. There is, I think, -nothing better than the threepenny edition issued by the <i>Free Age Press</i> -under the title, <i>How I Came to Believe</i>; and on looking at that to see if I -could quote from it, I find that it is not good enough.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_55" id="Footnote_55" href="#FNanchor_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Readers of <i>Resurrection</i> (Book II, Chap. 17) will remember the -vivid description of the Evangelical meeting addressed by Kiesewetter, who -spoke in English. The original from whom Tolstoy drew Kiesewetter -was Baedeker, a well-known Evangelical preacher who lived in England, -but visited Russia frequently.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_56" id="Footnote_56" href="#FNanchor_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> This passage is the more noteworthy because it is almost the only reference -(and even this is indirect) made by Tolstoy at this period to the revolutionary -or 'To-the-People' movement in which so many young men and women were -risking and sacrificing home, property, freedom, and life itself, from motives -which had much in common with his own perception that the upper -layers of 'Society' are parasitic, and prey on the vitals of the people who -support them.</p> - -</div></div> - -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456"></a> -<a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[457]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="INDEX">INDEX</h2> - -<ul> - -<li><p><i>ABC</i> Book, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>-<a href="#Page_348">348</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tourgénef's comment on, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Active service, military, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</p></li> - - <li><p>Aim when writing novels, <a href="#Page_430">430</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Aksákof, S. T., <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Albert</i>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Alexander II, Tsar, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Alexándra Fédorovna, Empress, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Alexéyef, V. G., <a href="#Page_395">395</a>, <a href="#Page_396">396</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Alexis, Tolstoy's servant, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tsarévitch, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Algebra, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Ambrose, Father, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Anarchism, peaceful, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Ancestry, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>-<a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Animals, kindness to, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Anna Karénina</i>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>, <a href="#Page_438">438</a>-<a href="#Page_445">445</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——characters in, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——impression produced in Russia by, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Matthew Arnold's comments on, <a href="#Page_438">438</a>-<a href="#Page_440">440</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——W. D. Howells' comments on, <a href="#Page_440">440</a>, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>, <a href="#Page_445">445</a>-<a href="#Page_447">447</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Kropótkin's comments on, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>-<a href="#Page_443">443</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tourgénef's comments on, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Ant Brotherhood, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Appearance, personal, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Arbiter of the Peace, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>-<a href="#Page_229">229</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Arboúzof's <i>Recollections</i>, <a href="#Page_370">370</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Arithmetic in <i>ABC</i> Book, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Arm dislocated, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Army, enters the, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——leaves, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——becomes an officer in, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Arnold, Matthew: comments on <i>Anna Karénina</i>, <a href="#Page_438">438</a>-<a href="#Page_440">440</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Art, talk with peasant boys about, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——thoughts on, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>-<a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_377">377</a>, <a href="#Page_405">405</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——what is it? <a href="#Page_260">260</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Artistic capacity of peasants, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——element in Literature, speech on the, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Artists, Tolstoy's criticism of, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Astronomy, studies, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Auerbach, B., <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Aunt Tatiána. See <i>Tatiána</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Austria's pressure on Russia, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Authors, Tolstoy's criticism of the, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>-<a href="#Page_165">165</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Autobiographical, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>-<a href="#Page_50">50</a>, -<a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>-<a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>-<a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>-<a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>-<a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, -<a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>-<a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>-<a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>-<a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, -<a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>-<a href="#Page_284">284</a>, -<a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>-<a href="#Page_327">327</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, -<a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>, <i>and whole of chap.</i> xi.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Bćdeker</span>, preacher, <a href="#Page_413">413</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Bárstchina</i> explained, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Baryatínsky, General, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bashkírs, Tolstoy and the, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>-<a href="#Page_337">337</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bastion, the Fourth, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bastions, clears Fifth and Sixth, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>. See also <i>Sevastopol</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Bear Hunt</i>, The, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bear-hunt, a, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>-<a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bee-keeping, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Beethoven, comment on, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_377">377</a>-<a href="#Page_378">378</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Behrs family, the, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Miss S. A. See <i>Tolstoy, Countess S. A.</i></p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——S. A. (<i>brother-in-law</i>), <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_390">390</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——comments on Tolstoy by, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>, <a href="#Page_390">390</a>, <a href="#Page_436">436</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tánya (Tánitchka; <i>sister-in-law</i>), <a href="#Page_305">305</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Belbék, transferred to, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Beliefs, religious, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>-<a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, chap. xi.</p></li> - -<li><p>Berlin, in, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bible, the, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>-<a href="#Page_267">267</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Billiards, Chinese, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Birth, Tolstoy's, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Boarding schools condemned, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bolkónskys, the (<i>War and Peace</i>), <a href="#Page_434">434</a>, <a href="#Page_435">435</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Books for the people, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——that influenced Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[458]</a></span>Borodinó, visit to battlefield of, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bótkin, V. P., <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——'s comment on <i>War and Peace</i>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——'s criticism of Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Boúlka (dog), <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Boutleróf, A. M., Professor, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Boyhood</i>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's criticism of, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bravery, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bucharest, in, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Buckle, criticism of, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Buddha, on Life, <a href="#Page_407">407</a>, <a href="#Page_409">409</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Buddhism, study of, <a href="#Page_412">412</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bulgarian insurrection, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Bull kills keeper, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><i>Captain's Daughter, The</i>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_430">430</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Cards. See <i>Gambling</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Caucasus, in the (see chap. iii.).</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——descriptions of the, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>-<a href="#Page_63">63</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——fighting in the, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Censor, the, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Charity, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Chastity, advocacy of, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Chess, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Chevet's system of Music, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Childhood</i>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's criticism of, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Children, Tolstoy's, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——education of, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>-<a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——governesses, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——punishments of, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——and the servants, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——taught music, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——painting, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——teach in peasant schools, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's tact with, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——toys, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Christian and Greek ideals, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Christianity, study of, <a href="#Page_412">412</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Christ's Hospital, education at, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Church, the Orthodox, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_413">413</a>, <a href="#Page_419">419</a>, <a href="#Page_420">420</a>, <a href="#Page_424">424</a>, <a href="#Page_437">437</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Church ceremonial, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Clarens, at, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Coat of arms, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Collates Artillery Commanders' reports, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Colony, agricultural, in Kansas, <a href="#Page_396">396</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Communion, Tolstoy takes, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_421">421</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Composition, how to teach, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Comte, <a href="#Page_396">396</a>, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Confession</i>, Tolstoy's, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>-<a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>-<a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_391">391</a>, <a href="#Page_394">394</a>. (See also chap. xi.)</p></li> - -<li><p>Consumptive tendencies, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Contemporary, The</i>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Contributors to, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Contradict, readiness to, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Conversion, <a href="#Page_394">394</a>, <a href="#Page_398">398</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Copperfield, David</i>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Corporal punishment, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Cossacks, The</i>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Cossacks, The</i>, Tourgénef's comment on, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_393">393</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Cossacks, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>-<a href="#Page_80">80</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Count, origin of Tolstoy's title, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Country life, love of, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Courier to Petersburg, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Court-martial, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>-<a href="#Page_312">312</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Crimean War, chap. iv.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——cause of, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Daily</span> routine, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dates, Russian, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Death, thoughts on, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——first experience of, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Death of baby girl, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——baby Nicholas, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Bótkin, V. P., <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Demetrius Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Father and Grandmother, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——keeper by bull, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Nicholas Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>-<a href="#Page_203">203</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Peter, baby, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Tatiána A. Ergolsky, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>-<a href="#Page_359">359</a>. See also <i>Tatiána</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——P. I. Úshkof, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>. See also <i>Úshkof</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Debts, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Decembrists, The</i>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Decembrists, the, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Defiance of accepted opinions, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Demetrius Tolstoy. See <i>Tolstoy, Demetrius</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Democratic government, advantages of, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Democratic institutions, scorn for, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dentists, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Diary</i>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dickens's influence on Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Diesterweg, educationalist, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Digestive troubles, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dijon, at, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dissipation, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Divorce question, the, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>-<a href="#Page_443">443</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Doctors, dislike of, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Documents, carelessness with, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dogs, his, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dostoyévsky, S. A., <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Drama, Tolstoy and the, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>, <a href="#Page_327">327</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Drawing, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——lessons, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dresden, in, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[459]</a></span>Dress, elegance in, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——simplicity, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Drouzhínin, A. V., <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——criticises Tolstoy's style, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——criticises <i>Youth</i>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——letter from, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Duel, a. See <i>Tourgénef</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dumas <i>pčre</i>, as novelist, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——educational influence, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Dyákof, D. A., <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p><span class="smcap">Education</span>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>-<a href="#Page_239">239</a>. See also <i>School</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——at Christ's Hospital, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——criticism of, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——definition of, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——evening lectures, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——false bases of, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——speech on, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——children's, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>-<a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's method of, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——the right to reject, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Zémstvo Committee of, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Educational systems, Tolstoy studies:</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——in England, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Kissingen, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Marseilles, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Saxony, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Weimar, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——system in Germany, criticised, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——work, Tolstoy on his own, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Emancipation of the serfs, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>-<a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's attitude towards, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>-<a href="#Page_225">225</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Engagement with V. V. A., <a href="#Page_150">150</a>-<a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Epicureans and life, <a href="#Page_408">408</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Epitaph, an, <a href="#Page_382">382</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Érgolsky, T. A. See <i>Tatiána, Aunt</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Estate buying, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——management, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——searched, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>-<a href="#Page_288">288</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Eucharist, Tolstoy receives the, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_419">419</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Eugene Baumann, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Evangelicals, the, <a href="#Page_413">413</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Examinations, Tolstoy's, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Execution, an, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Executions, the Church and, <a href="#Page_424">424</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Exercise, physical, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>. See also <i>Gymnastics</i>.</p></li> - - -<li><p><span class="smcap">Fable</span>, an Eastern, <a href="#Page_404">404</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Fame, thoughts on, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_401">401</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Family Happiness</i>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Famines caused by the Church, <a href="#Page_437">437</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Famine Fund, Samára, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Famines, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Farming, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Fasts, Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_419">419</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Fatherland Journal, The</i>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Father Sergius</i>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Faust</i> (Tourgénef's), <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Fédka, literary genius of, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>-<a href="#Page_274">274</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——walk with, a, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>-<a href="#Page_260">260</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Fet, A. A., <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——letters to, from Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, -<a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, -<a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>, -<a href="#Page_380">380</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>, <a href="#Page_382">382</a>, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a>, <a href="#Page_391">391</a>, <a href="#Page_392">392</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——in rhyme to, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Literary Evening in aid of Famine Fund, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——'s poems, Tolstoy's admiration of, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's criticism of, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>, <a href="#Page_391">391</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——visits Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>-<a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Fet, Peter A., <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>First Step, The</i>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Flock for the shepherd, a,' <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Fly, attempts to, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Folk-Songs and Tales, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>-<a href="#Page_378">378</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Fort Grózny, at, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Fourth Bastion, in the, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>-<a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Franco-Prussian War, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Freedom of Russian nobles, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>French language, the, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——people, the, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Froebel, Julius, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Future Life, thoughts on, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p><span class="smcap">Gambling</span>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——reflections on, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Garnett, Mrs. C., <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_440">440</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Generalship in Literature,' his, <a href="#Page_436">436</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Geneva, in, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Geniality and good humour, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'<i>Gens comme il faut</i>,' preference for, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Geography, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Georgia, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Gipsy girl singers, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>God, 'There is no,' <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——thoughts on, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>, <a href="#Page_416">416</a>-<a href="#Page_418">418</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>God sees the Truth, But Waits</i>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Gógol, <a href="#Page_428">428</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Gortchakóf, Prince M. D., <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Gouneba (stallion), <a href="#Page_374">374</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Government approves Tolstoy's schemes, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's dislike of, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[460]</a></span>Grammar in schools, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——schools, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Grebénsky Cossacks, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Greek and Christian ideals contrasted, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Greek, Tolstoy learns, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>-<a href="#Page_333">333</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Church. See <i>Church</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Grigoróvitch, D. V., <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Gymnasiums, Russian, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Gymnastics, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Hádji</span> Mourát, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Handwerksverein, der</i>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Hapgood, Miss I., <a href="#Page_301">301</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Happiness, plans for future, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——thoughts on, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_447">447</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Hay saved by personal exertions, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Hegel, criticism of, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Heresy, on, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Hermit, visit to a, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Herodotus, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Herzegovina, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Herzen, Alexander, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Historian, Tolstoy as, <a href="#Page_432">432</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>History, criticism of, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——how to teach, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Home, love of, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Homer, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Homyakóf, A. S., <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Honesty, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——of peasants, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Horse-breeding, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Horse-race at Samára, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>House of Commons, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——sale of, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Hundred and Ninety-three, The,' trial of <a href="#Page_394">394</a>, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Hunting, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>-<a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>. See also <i>Shooting</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——accident, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Hussars, Two</i>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Hyčres, at, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><i>Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature</i> (Kropótkin), <a href="#Page_441">441</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Iliad</i>, appreciation of the, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Incarcerated, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Inconsistency, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Infant Schools condemned, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Infected Family, The</i>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Introduction to a Criticism of Dogmatic Theology.</i> See <i>Confession</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Irritability, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Junker</span>, becomes a, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——'s life in the Caucasus, a, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Jury, serves on, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Kansas</span>, Agricultural Colony, <a href="#Page_396">396</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kant, <a href="#Page_416">416</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Karalýk, at, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>-<a href="#Page_337">337</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Katkóf, M. N., <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kazán, life in, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>-<a href="#Page_35">35</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——University, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Keller, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kiesewetter (<i>Resurrection</i>), <a href="#Page_413">413</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kinglake, historian of the Crimean War, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>King Lear</i>, Drouzhínin and, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kissingen, at, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Knyaz</i>, meaning of, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kock, Paul de, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Kólokol</i>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Koran, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kornílof, Admiral, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Kotchévka</i>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Koumýs</i> cure, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Kounák</i>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kramskóy paints portrait of Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kropótkin, P., <a href="#Page_397">397</a>, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>-<a href="#Page_443">443</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——comments on <i>Anna Karénina</i>, <a href="#Page_434">434</a>, <a href="#Page_436">436</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i6">——<i>Sevastopol</i>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——<i>Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature</i>, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Kryzhanóvsky, General, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Land</span>, the, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Languages, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Oriental, studies, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Lao-Tsze, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Lautiermethode</i>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Law, studies, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Lelewel, Polish author, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Leóntief, Professor, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Lévin (<i>Anna Karénina</i>), <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_444">444</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Life in danger, Tolstoy's, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Lisogoúb, D., <a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Literature as an occupation, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——'A General in,' <a href="#Page_436">436</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——its importance in Russia, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Literacy, Moscow Society of, speech to the, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Lives of the Saints, the, <a href="#Page_422">422</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>London, in, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Love affairs, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>-<a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>-<a href="#Page_290">290</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Lucerne</i>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_429">429</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Lucerne, in, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Luther, Martin, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Luxury, dislike of, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Macaulay</span> criticised, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Magazine, Tolstoy's. See <i>Yásnaya Polyána</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Maláhof, capture of the, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>-<a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Mariána, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Marie (Másha or Mary) Tolstoy (<i>sister</i>). See <i>Tolstoy</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy (<i>daughter</i>). See <i>Tolstoy</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Volkónsky, Princess, (<i>mother</i>). See <i>Tolstoy</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Marriage, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[461]</a></span>Marriage question, the, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>-<a href="#Page_443">443</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Marryat's novels, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Marseilles, in, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Márya Gerásimovna, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Masquerades, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Master and Man</i>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Matriculates, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Maude, A., letter to, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance</i>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Memoirs of a Billiard Marker</i>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Ménshikof, Prince, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Alexander, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>-<a href="#Page_124">124</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Metaphysics, <a href="#Page_407">407</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Michael, Grand Duke, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Middle-classes, Tolstoy's ignorance of, <a href="#Page_436">436</a>, <a href="#Page_437">437</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Middle period of Tolstoy's life, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Mihaylóvsky, N. K., <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Military newspaper projected, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Mill, J. S., <a href="#Page_396">396</a>, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Mineral waters, a course of, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Miracles, <a href="#Page_417">417</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Moabit Prison, visit to, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Mohammedanism, studies, <a href="#Page_412">412</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Molokáns, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Moscow Gazette, The</i>, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Moscow Conservatoire, the, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Fifty, trial of the, <a href="#Page_394">394</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Society of Lovers of Russian Literature, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Mother Vólga</i> (song), <a href="#Page_276">276</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Mouhamed Shah, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Mouravyóf, N. N., <a href="#Page_432">432</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Mowing, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Murder of Countess Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Music, Chevet's method of teaching, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——his children learn, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——love of, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>-<a href="#Page_376">376</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——method of teaching, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Musical notation, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Napoleon</span> I, <a href="#Page_431">431</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——III, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Nature, delight in, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Nekrásof, N. A., <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——comments on <i>The Wood-felling</i> and <i>Sevastopol</i>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Neues Leben, Ein</i> (Auerbach), <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>New ABC</i> Book, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>New Religion, would found a, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Newspaper, projected military, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Newspapers, dislike of, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Nicholas, baby, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Nicholas I, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Nicholas Tolstoy. See <i>Tolstoy</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Nihilist, The</i>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Not Born to be Like Everybody Else,' <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Novel writing, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Numidian cavalry,' the, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Obolénsky</span>, Prince D. D., <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Obrók</i>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Officers, relations with, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Ogaryóf, N. P., <a href="#Page_209">209</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Old style calendar, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Old Testament, the, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>-<a href="#Page_267">267</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Oltenítza, in, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>On the Eve</i> (Tourgénef), <a href="#Page_188">188</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Óptin's Hermitage, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Orenbourg, at, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Oriental languages, studies, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Originality, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Osten-Saken, Count, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Countess A. I. (<i>aunt</i>), <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Ostróvsky, A. N., <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Ouroúsof, Prince L. D., <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Ouspénsky, N. V., <a href="#Page_253">253</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Palmerston</span>, Lord, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Panáef, V. I., <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——comments on <i>Sevastopol in May</i>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Paris, in, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Parliament, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Pascal, B., <i>Pensées</i>, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Páshenka, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Patriotism, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Peasants' artistic capacity, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Pedagogic tact, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Penmanship, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Pensées</i>, by Pascal, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Peróvsky, Sophie, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Petersburg, in, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Peter, baby, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——the Great, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——proposed novel of period of, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——study of period of, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy. See <i>Tolstoy</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Petropávlof Fortress, visits, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Petróvsky Fair, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Physical exercises, expertness in, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Piano-playing, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Pilgrims and saints, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_394">394</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Pláksin, Sergéy, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Plays</i>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_327">327</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Police search at Yásnaya Polyána, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>-<a href="#Page_288">288</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Polikoúshka</i>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tourgénef's comment on, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Polish insurrection (1863), <a href="#Page_296">296</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Portrait by Kramskóy, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Posthumous publications, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Poúshkin, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_428">428</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Prayer, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_370">370</a>, <a href="#Page_420">420</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[462]</a></span>Prayer, answer to, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Prince, the Russian title, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Printing, questions the utility of, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Prisoner in the Caucasus, A</i>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tourgénef's comment on, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Prisoners, Turkish, a visit to, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Prisons, visits to: the Moabit, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i6">——Petropávlof Fortress, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Progress, thoughts on, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>-<a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Promotion, slow, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Propaganda, social and political, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Proposal by initials, to Miss S. A. Behrs, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——formal, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Proudhon, visit to, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Public speeches by Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Punishment of his children, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Pyatigórsk, in, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Question-boxes</span>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Races</span> on Samára estate, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Raid, The</i>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Railways, aversion to, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>-<a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Raven (horse), <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Read, Is it worth learning to? <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Readers</i>, Slavonic and Russian, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_427">427</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Reading lessons, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——practical demonstration of teaching, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Reading Library, The</i>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Recollections of Count Tolstoy</i> (Behrs), <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Reforms in Russia, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——want of sympathy with, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Religion, on, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——wishes to found a, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Religious beliefs, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Reports, collates military, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Review, a military, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Revolutionary movement, <a href="#Page_394">394</a>-<a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Riding lesson, first, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Right and Left Hand of Count Tolstoy, The</i>, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Rousseau, J. J., <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Rubinstein, Nicholas, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Rudolph, musician, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Rules of conduct, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Russo-Turkish Wars, the, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>. See also <i>Crimean War</i>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Sádo</span>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>-<a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>St. George's Cross, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sakya Muni, <a href="#Page_407">407</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sale of house, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Saltykóf, M. E., (Stchedrín), <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Samára, buys estates in, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——famine in, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——in, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Samárin, P. F., <a href="#Page_346">346</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sand, George, hostility to, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>School, the Yásno-Polyána, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>-<a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i6">——external disorder in, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i6">——a fight in, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i6">——punishment, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i6">——theft, a, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Schools, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>-<a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——boarding, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——infant, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy inspects, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>. See also <i>Education</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Schopenhauer, on, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_416">416</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——on Life, <a href="#Page_407">407</a>, <a href="#Page_411">411</a>, <a href="#Page_416">416</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Schwarzwälder Dorfgeschichten</i>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sculptor, Tolstoy as, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Scythians, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Search of estate by police, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>-<a href="#Page_288">288</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Self-depreciation, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——perfecting, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sensuality, thoughts on, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sequel, the, <a href="#Page_447">447</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Serfdom, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_433">433</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Serfs, emancipation of the. See <i>Emancipation</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——relations with the, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sergius Tolstoy (<i>brother</i>). See <i>Tolstoy</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Servants, relations with, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Sevastopol</i> <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_429">429</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——the Censor and, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——comments on, by Kropótkin, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i6">——Tourgénef, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——English edition of, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Sevastopol in August</i>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Sevastopol in December</i>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Sevastopol in May</i>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sevastopol, map of, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Fourth Bastion, in, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>-<a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Siege of, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>-<a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>-<a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——situation in, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Star Fort, the, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy reaches, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——truce, a, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Shámyl, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Shooting, Tolstoy goes, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>-<a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Shyness, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Si jeunesse savait</i>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Silistria, recollections of siege, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>-<a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Simplicity, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sincerity, disbelief in others', <a href="#Page_143">143</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——his own, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_448">448</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Singer at Lucerne, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[463]</a></span>Singing lessons, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Slavophilism, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sleep, respect for, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Smoke</i>, comments on, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Snow Storm, The</i>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Socialism, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>-<a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Social tact, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Society, organisation of, <a href="#Page_434">434</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Socrates on Life, <a href="#Page_407">407</a>-<a href="#Page_409">409</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sokólniki, at, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Soldier, pleads for life of, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——popular sympathy for, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Soldiers' Song, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>-<a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Solomon, <a href="#Page_407">407</a>, <a href="#Page_409">409</a>, <a href="#Page_411">411</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>South Kensington, at, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Spiritualism, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sportsman, Tolstoy, the, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>-<a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>-<a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>-<a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Sports, organises, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Spring, influence of, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Squire's Morning, A</i>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tourgénef's comment on, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Staff-officers, disapproval of, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Stallion (Gouneba), <a href="#Page_374">374</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Star Fort, the, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Starogládovsk, in, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Stáry Urt, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>State service, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Stchedrín, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Stendhal, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Stolýpin, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Story-teller, an itinerant, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Stráhof, N. N., <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Strength, great physical, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>, <a href="#Page_403">403</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Strenuousness, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Style, Drouzhínin criticises Tolstoy's, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Suicide, thoughts of, <a href="#Page_402">402</a>, <a href="#Page_406">406</a>, <a href="#Page_410">410</a>, <a href="#Page_418">418</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——in <i>Anna Karénina</i>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Syómka and Fédka, literary genius of, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——walk with, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>-<a href="#Page_260">260</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">'Take</span> care of that young man,' <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tartar warfare, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tatiána, Aunt, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>-<a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——letters to, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——peasants' opinion of, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tchaykóvsky, N., <a href="#Page_396">396</a>, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tchérnaya, battle of the, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tchitchérin, B. N., <a href="#Page_174">174</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Teach, What must I? <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>-<a href="#Page_238">238</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——How must I? <a href="#Page_238">238</a>-<a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>-<a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Telegraph, peasants and the, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's criticism of, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>-<a href="#Page_242">242</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Temeshóf, Doúnetchka, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Temple of Science,' the, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tennyson, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Tests' himself, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Theodore Ivánitch (Rössel), <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Thought reading, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Three Deaths</i>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Three Hermits, The</i>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Titles of nobility, Russian, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Todleben, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tolstoy, Alexandra A. (<i>aunt</i>), <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——letter to, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Alexis, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Andrew (<i>son</i>), <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Dmítry (<i>cousin</i>), <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Demetrius (Dmítry or Mítenka; <i>brother</i>), <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——relations with serfs, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Elias (<i>grandfather</i>), <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Ilyá, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——(<i>son</i>), <a href="#Page_310">310</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Leo (<i>son</i>), <a href="#Page_317">317</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Marie (<i>mother</i>), <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Mary (<i>daughter</i>), <a href="#Page_331">331</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——(Marie or Másha; <i>sister</i>), <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Nicholas, I (<i>father</i>), <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——(Nikólenka; <i>brother</i>), <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>-<a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>-<a href="#Page_203">203</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——letter to, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——(<i>son</i>), <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Peter, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——(<i>son</i>), <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——S. A. (<i>wife</i>), <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>-<a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>-<a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——letters from, to S. A. Behrs, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Sergius (Sergéy or Seryózha; <i>brother</i>), <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——letters to, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——L. (<i>son</i>), <a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tatiána L. (<i>daughter</i>), <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——family and servants, the, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——name, the, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——spelling of, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tourgénef, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>-<a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>-<a href="#Page_223">223</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a>, <a href="#Page_389">389</a>-<a href="#Page_393">393</a>, <a href="#Page_428">428</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——challenged by Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——challenges Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——comments on <i>ABC</i> Book, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——<i>Anna Karénina</i>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——<i>Cossacks, The</i>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_393">393</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——<i>Polikoúshka</i>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——<i>Sevastopol</i>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[464]</a></span>Tourgénef, comments on <i>Squire's Morning, A</i>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——<i>War and Peace</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——letters to Fet, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i6">——in verse, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——on Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, <a href="#Page_392">392</a>, <a href="#Page_393">393</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——reconciliation with Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_388">388</a>-<a href="#Page_391">391</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——'s Faust, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——'s <i>On the Eve</i>, Tolstoy's criticism of, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——'s <i>Smoke</i>, Tolstoy's criticism of, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's quarrel with, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>-<a href="#Page_223">223</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——translations with Mme. Viardot. See <i>Viardot</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Towards the People' Movement, the, <a href="#Page_394">394</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Training College for Teachers, a, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Translations, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_440">440</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Traveller in the Well, The, <a href="#Page_404">404</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tree-planting, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Trials of the Pen,' <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Trollope, A., <a href="#Page_320">320</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Troubetskóy, Princess Catherine (<i>grandmother</i>), <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Tsar-Liberator,' the, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tsar, prayers for the, <a href="#Page_420">420</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Tschaikóvsky, P. I., <a href="#Page_375">375</a>-<a href="#Page_377">377</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——letter to, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Turkey, war with, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Turkish prisoners in Tóula, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Turks, ferocity of, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Twenty-three Tales</i>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Two Hussars</i>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Ufanizing</span>. See <i>Farming</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Universities, dislike of, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>University degree, failure to take, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">'——in bark shoes,' a, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——studies at Kazán, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>-<a href="#Page_37">37</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——at Petersburg, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Unmethodical habits, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Úshkof, P. I. (<i>aunt</i>), <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——V. I., <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Vanity</span>, thoughts on, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Varvára Engelhardt, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Viardot, Madame, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Vólga, journey down the, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Vólga, Mother</i> (song), <a href="#Page_276">276</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Volkónsky, Prince Nicholas (<i>grandfather</i>), <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——S. G., <a href="#Page_386">386</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Princess (<i>mother's cousin</i>), <a href="#Page_174">174</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——Marie (<i>mother</i>), <a href="#Page_5">5</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Voltaire, influence of, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>V. V. A., love affair with, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>-<a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Walking</span>, love of, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——tour, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>-<a href="#Page_170">170</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>War and Peace</i>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>, <a href="#Page_430">430</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——characters in, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_435">435</a>, <a href="#Page_436">436</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——preparations for, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tolstoy's comment on, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Bótkin's comment on, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——Tourgénef's comment on, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>War, active service in, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——the Church and, <a href="#Page_424">424</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——horror of, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——thoughts on, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_432">432</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Wealth, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Weimar, in, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>What is Art?</i> <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>, <a href="#Page_430">430</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>What Men Live By</i>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Wife. See <i>Tolstoy, S. A.</i></p></li> - -<li><p>Wine, on, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>'Wishes to be great,' <a href="#Page_183">183</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Women, relations with, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Wood-Felling, The</i>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Wood, Mrs. Henry, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Works, first collected edition of, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——list of, <a href="#Page_427">427</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——published before <i>War and Peace</i>, list of, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Writer, Tolstoy the, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>, <a href="#Page_445">445</a>-<a href="#Page_447">447</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Writers, criticism, of the, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>-<a href="#Page_165">165</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Writing lessons, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><i>Yásnaya Polyána</i>, magazine, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Yásnaya Polyána, house and estate, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Yásno-Polyána School, Chap. VIII. See also <i>School</i>.</p></li> - -<li><p><i>Youth</i>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i2">——criticised by Drouzhínin, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p class="i4">——by Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</p></li> - - -<li><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Zahárin</span>, Professor, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</p></li> - -<li><p>Zémstvo, elected to the, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>.</p></li> -</ul> - - -<p class="p4 center">Printed by T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to His Majesty -at the Edinburgh University Press</p> - - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<p class="box">Transcriber's Note:<br /> -<br /> - -Blank pages have been eliminated.<br /> -<br /> -Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the -original.<br /> -<br /> -A few typographical errors have been corrected.<br /> -<br /> -The cover page was created by the transcriber and can be considered public domain.</p> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY: FIRST FIFTY YEARS***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 52242-h.htm or 52242-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/2/4/52242">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/2/4/52242</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. -</p> - -<h2 class="pg">START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<br /> -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</h2> - -<p>To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license.</p> - -<h3 class="pg">Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works</h3> - -<p>1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8.</p> - -<p>1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.</p> - -<p>1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others.</p> - -<p>1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States.</p> - -<p>1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:</p> - -<p>1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed:</p> - -<blockquote><p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United - States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost - no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use - it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with - this eBook or online - at <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this - ebook.</p></blockquote> - -<p>1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</p> - -<p>1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work.</p> - -<p>1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.</p> - -<p>1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License.</p> - -<p>1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.</p> - -<p>1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</p> - -<p>1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that</p> - -<ul> -<li>You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation."</li> - -<li>You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works.</li> - -<li>You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work.</li> - -<li>You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.</li> -</ul> - -<p>1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.</p> - -<p>1.F.</p> - -<p>1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment.</p> - -<p>1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE.</p> - -<p>1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem.</p> - -<p>1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.</p> - -<p>1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions.</p> - -<p>1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. </p> - -<h3 class="pg">Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm</h3> - -<p>Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life.</p> - -<p>Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org.</p> - -<h3 class="pg">Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation</h3> - -<p>The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.</p> - -<p>The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact</p> - -<p>For additional contact information:</p> - -<p> Dr. Gregory B. Newby<br /> - Chief Executive and Director<br /> - gbnewby@pglaf.org</p> - -<h3 class="pg">Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation</h3> - -<p>Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS.</p> - -<p>The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/donate">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>.</p> - -<p>While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate.</p> - -<p>International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.</p> - -<p>Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate</p> - -<h3 class="pg">Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.</h3> - -<p>Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support.</p> - -<p>Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</p> - -<p>Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org</p> - -<p>This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</p> - -</body> -</html> - diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1368d70..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/p004.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/p004.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d094c09..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/p004.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/p048.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/p048.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6afde80..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/p048.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/p113.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/p113.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4a4005e..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/p113.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/p142.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/p142.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index cd56f27..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/p142.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/p152.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/p152.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 31ea0da..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/p152.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/p200.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/p200.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3c10c7c..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/p200.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/p290.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/p290.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c9487f4..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/p290.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242-h/images/p402.jpg b/old/52242-h/images/p402.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7fc8140..0000000 --- a/old/52242-h/images/p402.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52242.txt b/old/52242.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5902965..0000000 --- a/old/52242.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,19353 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life of Tolstoy: First Fifty Years, by -Aylmer Maude - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: The Life of Tolstoy: First Fifty Years - Fifth Edition - - -Author: Aylmer Maude - - - -Release Date: June 5, 2016 [eBook #52242] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY: FIRST FIFTY -YEARS*** - - -E-text prepared by Carlos Colón and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -the Google Books Library Project (http://books.google.com) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 52242-h.htm or 52242-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/52242/52242-h/52242-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/52242/52242-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - the Google Books Library Project. See - https://books.google.com/books?id=PjJGAAAAYAAJ - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). - - A carat character is used to denote superscription. - Superscripted characters are enclosed by curly brackets - following a carat character (example: M^{me}). - - Small uppercase have been replaced with regular uppercase. - - - - - -THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY - -FIRST FIFTY YEARS - - -[Illustration: _Portrait of Tolstoy when commencing Anna Karenina, -1873, by Kramskoy._] - - -THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY - -FIRST FIFTY YEARS - -by - -AYLMER MAUDE - - - 'A man so various that he seemed to be - Not one, but all mankind's epitome.' - - DRYDEN - -Fifth Edition - - - - - - - -New York -Dodd, Mead and Company -1911 - -First Edition September 1908 -Second Edition October 1908 -Third Edition September 1910 -Fourth Edition January 1911 -Fifth Edition April 1911 - - - - - PREFACE - - -THE reason I have written this work is because so many among us are -interested in Tolstoy and so few seem to understand him. It would seem -therefore that an English Life of Tolstoy is needed, and having lived -in Russia for twenty-three years, known Tolstoy well for several years, -visited him frequently in Moscow, and stayed with him repeatedly at -Yasnaya Polyana, I am perhaps as well qualified as any one to write -it, especially as I have long made a careful study of his views. My -wife and I have translated several of his works, have known people -closely connected with him, and some ten years ago we took part in -an unsuccessful 'Tolstoy' Colony; besides which I went to Canada at -his wish to make arrangements for the Doukhobor migration, of which I -subsequently wrote the history. - -Moreover, I am impartial. That is to say, I have taken pains to -understand Tolstoy's views, and to see the good there is in them; but -being a Westerner, I see also certain things Tolstoy overlooks, and I -know that these things knock big holes in some of his most cherished -'principles.' - -The book has had the great advantage of being carefully revised by his -wife, the Countess S. A. Tolstoy, who both verbally and in writing has -rendered me most valuable assistance. - -I owe sincere thanks also to my friend P. I. Birukof, Tolstoy's Russian -biographer. He modestly speaks of his own work as 'a collection of -those materials for the biography of Leo Tolstoy which are accessible -to me.' I have no hesitation in saying that his care and integrity in -gathering and using those materials, entitle him to the gratitude of -all who deal with the same subject. - -There is one small matter of typography which needs a word of -explanation. I have sought to tell as much of the story as possible -in Tolstoy's own words, and have also had occasion to quote other -writers. At times the Russian text quoted contains allusions or -expressions which might perplex an English reader unless a word or -two of explanation were added. To introduce paragraphs of explanation -would interrupt the narrative, besides lengthening the book. To have -recourse to frequent footnotes in cases where two or three words of -explanation are all that is required is unsightly and unsatisfactory; -so I have adopted the plan of using square brackets [ ] to enclose such -explanations. The ordinary round parentheses ( ) I have kept for their -common use, and for cases where, for clearness' sake, words are added -that are not contained in the original. - -Beyond indicating the varying value of sums of money mentioned, I have -not troubled the reader with the fluctuations of the rouble, which -went from over 38 pence before the Crimean war, to 19 pence after the -Russo-Turkish war of 1878. If he wants a concise history of the Russian -currency, he can find it in the preface to my edition of _Sevastopol_. - -In that as in other matters I have tried to be accurate without being -pedantic. It is Tolstoy and his views that I aim at presenting to -English readers; and I have kept in the background, as far as I could, -the obstacles resulting from the Tower of Babel. - - AYLMER MAUDE. - - GREAT BADDOW, - CHELMSFORD, _20th August 1910_. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PREFACE v - - NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION OF RUSSIAN NAMES xiii - - I. ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE 1 - - II. YOUTH AND EARLY MANHOOD 16 - - III. THE CAUCASUS 59 - - IV. THE CRIMEAN WAR 93 - - V. PETERSBURG; LOVE AFFAIR; DROUZHININ 138 - - VI. TRAVELS ABROAD 166 - - VII. AT YASNAYA AGAIN; TOURGENEF; ARBITER; MAGAZINE 214 - - VIII. THE SCHOOL 246 - - IX. MARRIAGE 282 - - X. NEARING THE CRISIS 329 - - XI. CONFESSION 399 - - XII. WORKS: 1852-1878 427 - - CHRONOLOGY 450 - - INDEX 457 - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - PORTRAIT OF TOLSTOY WHEN COMMENCING _Anna Karenina_, - 1873. By Kramskoy _Frontispiece_ - - _Facing page_ - - TOLSTOY IN 1848, AFTER LEAVING THE UNIVERSITY 48 - - MAP OF SEVASTOPOL 113 - - PROMINENT RUSSIAN WRITERS, 1856: TOURGENEF, SOLOGOUB, - TOLSTOY, NEKRASOF, GRIGOROVITCH, AND PANAEF 142 - - TOLSTOY IN 1856, THE YEAR HE LEFT THE ARMY 152 - - TOLSTOY IN 1860, THE YEAR HIS BROTHER NICHOLAS DIED 200 - - TOLSTOY IN 1862, THE YEAR OF HIS MARRIAGE 290 - - TOLSTOY'S LIBRARY, SHOWING THE WOODEN CROSSPIECE FROM - WHICH HE WISHED TO HANG HIMSELF 402 - - - - - NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION OF - RUSSIAN NAMES - - -The spelling of Russian names in Latin letters in a work of this kind, -presents great difficulties. To begin with, we have as yet (though it -is much needed) no accepted method of transliteration from Russian -into English; and though it is not difficult for any one to frame -or select his own system of transliteration--as I have done for my -translations--this does not entirely meet the case when one has to deal -with the names of people, many of whom have adopted a spelling of their -own. - -On the one hand, a man has a right to decide how he will have his own -name spelt; but on the other hand, the inclusion of a dozen different -systems of transliteration in one book, is apt to create confusion. - -I have had to do the best I could under the circumstances. To pronounce -the names correctly, in accord with the system of transliteration I -have adopted, the reader should note the following: - - I. Lay stress on the syllable marked with an accent. - - II. Vowel sounds are broad and open: - - _a_ as in f_a_ther. - _e_ as _a_ in f_a_te. - - But _e_ initial and unaccented is pronounced _ye_. - - _i_ as _ee_ in m_ee_t. - _o_ as in l_o_ch. - _u_ as _you_. - - In diphthongs the broad sounds are retained: - - _ou_ as _oo_ in b_oo_t. - _ya_ as in _ya_rd. - _ye_ as in _ye_s. - _yo_ as in _yo_re. - _ay_ as _eye_. - _ey_ as in th_ey_. - _oy_ as in b_oy_. - - III. _y_ with a vowel forms a diphthong; _y_ at the end of a - word, after a consonant, sounds something like _ie_ in hyg_ie_ne. - - IV. Consonants: - - _G_ is hard, as in _g_o. - _Zh_ is like _z_ in a_z_ure. - _R_ is sounded strongly, as in _r_ough, ba_rr_en. - _S_ is sharp, as in _s_eat, pa_ss_. - -Where I know of a spelling deliberately adopted by the owner of a name, -I have felt bound to follow it. For instance, the name which under my -system of transliteration I should have spelt 'Suhotin,' appears in -the book as Soohoteen, but in such cases, on the first occasion on -which the name occurs, I have given my usual transliteration in square -brackets. - -I hope the day is not distant when some system will be generally agreed -upon in this matter. Any system would be better than the present -anarchy. - - - - - CHAPTER I - - ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE - -Ancestors. Count Peter. Russian titles. Tolstoy's grandfather and -father. His maternal grandfather and mother. First recollections. Aunty -Tatiana. Antecedents. - - -1353 - -IN the annals of the Russian nobility it is recorded that a man named -Idris came from 'the lands of Caesar,' that is to say, from the Holy -Roman Empire, in the year 1353 with two sons and 3000 followers, and -settling at Tchernigof in Little Russia was received with favour by -the reigning Grand Duke, who granted him much land. A great-grandson -of this Idris, Andrew by name, migrated to Moscow, where he was well -received by the reigning Grand Duke Vasily, who conferred upon him the -surname of Tolstoy. - - -1645 - -As, however, the annals of the Russian nobility were to a large extent -concocted in the reign of Peter the Great, it is extremely doubtful -whether this story is reliable. Be that as it may, it is certain that -Peter Tolstoy, born in 1645, was a Russian who distinguished himself -in the service of the State. During the struggles which preceded -the acquisition of power by Peter the Great, he made the mistake of -allying himself with that autocrat's ambitious half-sister, Sophia. -The defeat of her Guards, the Streltsi, caused him quickly to transfer -his allegiance to Peter, whose favour he eventually managed to secure. -When drinking with his chosen companions in later days, the Tsar would -often pat Tolstoy's head, saying, 'Little head, little head, had you -been less wise, you would have come off your shoulders long ago.' - - -1697, 1716, 1717 - -This Peter Tolstoy held a commission in the Guards, and fought in -the Azof campaign of 1696; but later on he went abroad to study -shipbuilding when Peter the Great was seeking volunteers for that -purpose. He was sent in 1701 as Ambassador to the Sublime Porte, and -in the years 1710-1713, when political affairs were critical, he twice -suffered severe imprisonment in the Seven Towers--the stronghold -wherein the Sultan occasionally confined the ambassadors of States -with whose conduct he felt dissatisfied. Returning to Russia in 1714, -Tolstoy obtained the favour of Prince Menshikof and became a Minister -of State. He married; but his wife does not appear to have been of -sufficient importance for any one to have said anything about her. He -accompanied Peter the Great to Holland and France, and rendered him -an important though discreditable service. Peter the Great's son, the -refractory Alexis, who disliked his father's reforms, had escaped from -Russia and was living with his mistress Euphrosyne at St. Elmo, near -Naples. By threats and promises, and by the aid of this woman, Tolstoy -induced the unfortunate Tsarevitch to return to Russia, and when he had -got him there, took a leading part in his trial and secret execution. - - -30 Aug. 1725 - -For this service Tolstoy received large estates and was promoted to the -headship of the Secret Chancellery. On the day of the coronation of -Peter's second wife, Catherine, Tolstoy was made a Count. His coat of -arms shows seven towers, in memory of his imprisonment by the Sultan, -and is appropriately supported by two wolf-hounds rampant, looking -outwards. - - -6 May 1727, 1729 - -On the death of Peter the Great, Tolstoy actively supported Menshikof -in securing the throne for Catherine the First, and he was one of the -seven members of the Upper Secret Council which practically ruled -Russia. On the question of choosing a successor to Catherine, he -ventured however to oppose Menshikof. The latter was too powerful for -him; and forfeiting his title of Count and deprived of all offices -rewards and estates, Tolstoy, at the age of eighty-two, was banished -for life to the Solovetz Monastery, situated on an island in the White -Sea. Here, two years later, he died. Menshikof himself, one may remark -in passing, finished his life that same year in Siberia, having been -banished by an order signed by the boy he had placed on the throne. To -be a Russian Minister of State in those days was almost as dangerous as -it is in our times to be a revolutionary conspirator. - -The title of Count was revived in the family in 1770, for the benefit -of Peter Tolstoy's grandson; whose son, Count Elias Tolstoy (he figures -in _War and Peace_ as the elder Count Rostof), was the grandfather of -Leo Tolstoy, whose life this book narrates. - -There is one matter which it may be as well to explain at the outset, -as English readers are so often puzzled by it: I refer to the nature -of Russian titles of nobility. The only really Russian title is that -of _Knyaz_, commonly translated 'Prince.' It is borne by descendants -of Rurik, by descendants of the Lithuanian Prince Ghedimin, and -by descendants of various Tartar Khans whose dominions Russia has -annexed. It has also been conferred by Imperial Decree on a dozen or -more other Russian families. Though _Knyaz_ is translated 'Prince,' -_Veliky Knyaz_, curiously enough, is not translated 'Great Prince,' but -'Grand Duke,' and this indicates how difficult it is to find suitable -equivalents for these titles. Not till the time of Peter the Great were -the German titles, Count (_Graf_) and Baron, introduced into Russia. -Both of these are now common among the Russo-German landlords of the -Baltic Provinces; and less so among real Russians. - -It must be borne in mind that there is no law of primogeniture in -Russia. Each son and daughter inherits the family title, so that there -are usually several, and sometimes many, people with equal rights to -use the same title. Though springing from one stock, they may be only -distantly connected. There are for instance other Counts Tolstoy, -contemporaries of Leo Tolstoy and distant cousins of his. One of these, -the poet Count Alexis Tolstoy, was a well-known author and dramatist. -Another, the reactionary Count Dmitry Tolstoy, was successively Head of -the Holy Synod, Minister of Education, and Minister of the Interior. - -Tolstoy's grandfather already mentioned, Count Elias Tolstoy, was an -easy-going generous trustful and extravagant man, who married a wealthy -Princess Gortchakof, but ran through her money and his own, and at -last to secure a means of livelihood, procured the post of Governor -of Kazan. This he was able to do, thanks to his family influence. It -is recorded to his credit that, contrary to the general custom of the -time, he accepted no bribes (except from the Government contractor, who -was considered the natural financial prop of a Provincial Governor), -though his wife accepted presents without his knowledge. - -Their eldest daughter married a Count Osten-Saken. She became guardian -of Leo Tolstoy and of his brothers and sister, after they had lost -their parents. Another daughter married V. I. Ushkof. Leo Tolstoy was -under her charge when he lived in Kazan and studied at its University. - -The first fact known to us about his father, Count Nicholas Tolstoy, is -characteristic of the manners of his class and day. When he was only -sixteen, his parents arranged a _liaison_ between him and a peasant -girl, such connections being considered necessary for the health of -young men. A son was born, and Tolstoy records his 'strange feeling of -consternation when (in after years) this brother of mine, fallen into -destitution and bearing a greater resemblance to my father than any of -us, used to beg help of us, and was thankful for the ten or fifteen -roubles we used to give him.' - - -1812, 1814 - -Nicholas Tolstoy was not yet seventeen when Napoleon invaded Russia; -but in spite of his parents' efforts to dissuade him, he insisted on -entering the army, and thanks to his mother's family influence, quickly -obtained an appointment as Adjutant to Prince Andrew Gortchakof, a -General in command. He went through the campaigns of 1813 and 1814; and -in the latter year he and his orderly, while on their way to rejoin the -Russian army in Germany, after taking despatches to Petersburg, were -captured by the French. The orderly managed to hide his master's gold -coins in his boots, and for months never risked taking them off, though -his feet grew sore and he suffered extreme discomfort. Thanks to this -devotion, Nicholas Tolstoy, after reaching Paris, was able to live in -comfort. - -Having attained the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, he left the army when -the war was over, and, disillusioned with military service, returned -to Kazan, where his father (completely ruined by that time) was still -Governor. - - -1820 - -In 1820 Count Elias died, leaving his estate so encumbered that his son -declined to accept the inheritance. The young man had to face the task -of providing for his old mother, who was accustomed to great luxury, -as well as for his sister and a distant cousin, Tatiana Alexandrovna -Ergolsky, who had been adopted into the family; and so a marriage was -arranged for him with the wealthy but plain Princess Marie Volkonsky, -who was no longer very young. - -His father's life, Tolstoy tells us, was then - - passed in attending to the estate, a business in which he was not - very expert, but in which he exercised a virtue great for those - days: he was not cruel, but perhaps even lacked firmness. During - his lifetime I never heard of corporal punishment. If it ever was - administered to the serfs, the cases were so rare and my father - took so little part in them, that we children never heard them - mentioned. It was after his death that I learnt, for the first - time, that such punishment ever took place at home. - - Like most men who served in the army in the early years of - Alexander's reign, he [Count Nicholas Tolstoy] was not what is - now called a Liberal, but out of self-respect he considered it - impossible to serve during the latter [reactionary] part of - Alexander's reign, or under Nicholas. During all my childhood and - youth, our family had no intimate relations with any Government - official. I, of course, understood nothing about this in childhood, - but I understood that my father never humbled himself before any - one, nor altered his brisk, merry, and often chaffing tone. This - feeling of self-respect, which I witnessed in him, increased my - love and admiration for him. - -Leo Tolstoy's mother's family, the Volkonskys, were descended from -Rurik (the first ruler mentioned in Russian history) as well as from -St. Michael the martyr, Prince of Tchernigof; and through them, even -more than on his father's side, Tolstoy is connected with many of the -leading families of the Russian aristocracy. Prince Nicholas Volkonsky, -his mother's father, came into conflict with the most powerful of the -favourites of Catherine the Great, for Tolstoy tells us that: - - Having attained the high position of Commander-in-Chief, he lost - it suddenly by refusing to marry Potemkin's niece and mistress, - Varvara Engelhardt. To Potemkin's suggestion that he should do so, - he replied: 'What makes him think I will marry his strumpet?' - -He married instead, a Princess Catherine Troubetskoy, and after -retiring from the service, settled down on his estate at Yasnaya -Polyana. His wife soon died, leaving him only one surviving child, a -daughter, Tolstoy's mother. Tolstoy writes of this grandfather: - - He was regarded as a very exacting master, but I never heard any - instance of his being cruel or inflicting the severe punishments - usual in those days. I believe such cases did occur on his estate, - but the enthusiastic respect for his importance and cleverness - was so great among the servants and peasants whom I have often - questioned about him, that though I have heard my father condemned, - I have heard only praise of my grandfather's intelligence, business - capacity, and interest in the welfare both of the peasants and of - his enormous household. - -Later, a strange chance brought Prince Volkonsky again into touch with -Varvara Engelhardt, whom he had refused to marry. She married a Prince -Sergius Golitsin, who consequently received promotions and decorations -and rewards; and Tolstoy tells us: - - With this Sergius Golitsin and his family, my grandfather formed so - close a friendship that my mother from her childhood was betrothed - to one of his ten sons.... This alliance, however, was not destined - to be consummated, for the young man died prematurely of fever. - -In a portrait of Prince N. Volkonsky which has been preserved in the -family there is much that corresponds to Leo Tolstoy's own appearance. -'Both,' as his brother-in-law remarks, 'have high, open foreheads and -large organs of the creative faculty, and in both the organs of musical -talent are exceedingly prominent and are covered by thick, overhanging -eyebrows, from beneath which small, deep-set, grey eyes literally -pierce the soul of the man on whom they are turned.' - - -1822 - -Prince N. Volkonsky died in 1820, and two years later his daughter -married Count Nicholas Tolstoy. Of her Tolstoy tells us: - - I do not remember my mother. I was a year-and-a-half old when she - died. By some strange chance no portrait of her has been preserved, - so that as a real physical being I cannot picture her to myself. I - am in a way glad of this, for in my conception of her there is only - her spiritual figure, and all that I know about her is beautiful; - and I think this has come about not merely because all who spoke to - me of my mother tried to say only what was good, but because there - actually was much good in her. - -She was well educated, spoke five languages, played the piano well, -and had a wonderful gift for improvising tales in the most delightful -manner. It is said that at balls her young lady friends would leave -the dance and gather in a dark room to hear her tell a story, which -shyness induced her to do where she could not be seen. Tolstoy remarks -that 'her most valuable quality was that though hot-tempered, she was -yet self-restrained. "She would get quite red in the face and even -cry," her maid told me, "but would never say a rude word."' She had one -quality Tolstoy values very highly--that of never condemning any one. -It was a quality shared by her eldest son, Nicholas; and Leo Tolstoy -says: - - In the _Lives of the Saints_ by D. Rostovsky, there is a short - story which has always touched me exceedingly, of a certain monk, - who to the knowledge of all his brethren had many faults, but whom - an old monk, in a dream, saw occupying a place of honour among the - saints. The old man asked in astonishment, 'How could this monk, so - unrestrained in many ways, deserve so great a reward?' The answer - was: 'He never condemned any one.' - -Tolstoy adds: 'If such rewards did exist, I think my brother and my -mother would have received them.' - -Another feature Tolstoy records of his mother is 'her truthfulness -and the simple tone of her correspondence.' He tells us that in his -imagination his mother - - appeared to me a creature so elevated, pure and spiritual, that - often in the middle period of my life, during my struggles with - overwhelming temptations, I prayed to her soul begging her to aid - me; and such prayer always helped me much. - - -1828 - -Five children were born to Nicholas and Marie Tolstoy. First came -four sons, of whom Leo was the youngest. His name in Russian is Lyof -Nikolayevitch (Leo, son-of-Nicholas) Tolstoy. Leo Tolstoy is the way -he signs himself when using the Latin alphabet; and when pronouncing -his name it should be remembered that the accent falls on the second -syllable, and that that syllable rhymes with 'boy.' The fancy spellings -_Tolstoi_ and _Tolstoi_ are due to the fact that some of the early -translators and reviewers, not being able to read Russian, relied on -French versions, and did not know how Tolstoy spells or pronounces his -own name. He was born on 28th August 1828[1] at Yasnaya Polyana, with -a caul--which both in Russia and in England is considered a sign of -good-fortune. - - [1] The dates mentioned in the text are usually old style - (twelve days behind our calendar), unless the contrary is - expressly stated. - -A year and a half later a daughter, Marie, was born; and in giving -birth to her the mother died, on 7th March 1830. - -Pilgrims, monks, nuns, and various half-crazy devotees were frequent -visitors at the house, and even took up their abode there. One of these -was a nun, Marya Gerasimovna, who in her youth had made pilgrimages -to various holy places dressed as a man. After the birth of four boys -Tolstoy's mother longed for a daughter, and promised Marya Gerasimovna -that she should be godmother if by prayer she enabled her to obtain her -desire. The next child really was a daughter. The promise was kept, -and thereafter Marya Gerasimovna, though she lived partly in the Toula -convent, was free of the Tolstoys' house and spent much of her time -there. - -Tolstoy gives us his earliest reminiscences in an autobiographical -fragment published in 1878: - - These are my first recollections. I cannot arrange them in order, - for I do not know which come first or last. Of some of them I - do not even know whether they happened in a dream or when I was - awake. I lie bound[2] and wish to stretch out my arms, but cannot. - I scream and cry, and my screams are disagreeable to myself, - but I cannot stop. Some one--I do not remember who--bends over - me. This all happens in semi-darkness. I only know there were - two people there. My cries affect them: they are agitated by my - screams, but do not untie me as I want them to, and I scream - still louder. To them it seems necessary that I should be bound, - but I know it is unnecessary and I wish to prove this to them, - and I again burst into cries which are unpleasant to myself but - are yet unrestrainable. I feel the injustice and cruelty--not of - people, for they pity me, but--of fate, and I pity myself. I do - not know and shall never know, what it was all about: whether I - was swaddled while still a baby at the breast, and struggled to - free my hands; whether they swaddled me when I was more than a - year old, to prevent my scratching some sore, or whether I have - gathered into this one recollection (as one does in a dream) many - different impressions. The one sure thing is, that this was the - first and strongest impression of my life. And what remains on my - memory is not my cries nor my suffering, but the complexity and - contradictoriness of the impressions. I desire freedom, it would - harm no one, but I who need strength am weak, while they are strong. - - [2] Russian babies are usually swaddled tightly with bands, - making them look like fresh mummies. - - The next impression is a pleasant one. I am sitting in a tub, and - am surrounded by a new and not unpleasant smell of something with - which they are rubbing my tiny body. Probably it was bran, put - into the water of my bath; the novelty of the sensation caused by - the bran aroused me, and for the first time I became aware of, and - liked, my own little body with the visible ribs on my breast, and - the smooth, dark, wooden tub, the bared arms of my nurse, the warm, - steaming, swirling water, the noise it made, and especially the - smooth feel of the wet rim of the tub as I passed my hands along it. - - My next recollections belong to the time when I was five or six, - and there are very few of them, and not one that relates to life - outside the walls of the house. Nature, up to the age of five, did - not exist for me. All that I remember, happened in bed or in our - rooms. Neither grass, nor leaves, nor sky, nor sun existed for me. - It cannot be that no one ever gave me flowers and leaves to play - with, that I never saw any grass, that they never shaded me from - the sun; but up to the time when I was five or six years old, I - have no recollection of what we call Nature. Probably, to see it, - one has to be separate from it, and I was Nature. - - The recollection that comes next after the tub is that of - Eremeyevna. 'Eremeyevna' was the name with which they used to - frighten us children. Probably they had long frightened us with - it, but my recollection of it is this: I am in bed and feel - well and happy as usual, and I should not remember it, but that - suddenly the nurse, or some one of those who made up my life, - says something in a voice new to me, and then goes away; and in - addition to being happy I am also frightened. And besides me there - is some one else like me. (Probably my sister Mary, whose crib - stood in the same room.) And I now remember a curtain near my bed; - and both my sister and I are happy and frightened at the strange - thing happening to us, and I hide in my pillow: hide, and glance - at the door from behind which I expect something new and merry. We - laugh, and hide, and wait. And then some one appears in a dress - and cap quite unknown to me, but I recognise that it is the same - person who is always with us (whether my nurse or aunt I do not - remember), and this some one says something about bad children - and about Eremeyevna in a gruff voice which I know. And I squeal - with fear and pleasure, and really am frightened, and yet am glad - to be frightened, and wish her who is frightening me not to know - that I have recognised her. We become quiet, but presently begin - whispering to one another again, on purpose that Eremeyevna may - come back. - - I have another recollection similar to this of Eremeyevna (but - as it is clearer it probably belongs to a later date) which has - always remained inexplicable to me. In this recollection the chief - part is played by our German tutor, Theodore Ivanitch, but I am - sure I was not yet in his charge; so the event must have taken - place before I was five. It is my first recollection of Theodore - Ivanitch, and it took place at so early an age that I can remember - no one else: neither my brothers nor my father nor any one. If - I have some notion of some one individual person, it is only of - my sister, and this only because she, like me, was afraid of - Eremeyevna. With this recollection is joined my first conception - of the fact that our house had a top story. How I climbed - there--whether I went by myself or whether any one carried me--I - have quite forgotten, but I remember that many of us are there, - and we all form a circle holding each other's hands; among us are - some women I did not know (for some reason I remember that they - were washer-women), and we all begin to go round and to jump; and - Theodore Ivanitch jumps, lifting his legs too high and too loudly - and noisily, and I at one and the same instant feel that this is - bad and depraved, and notice him and (I believe) begin to cry--and - all is over. - - That is all I remember up to the age of five. Neither my nurses, - aunts, brothers, sister, nor my father, nor the rooms, nor my toys, - do I remember. My more distinct recollections begin from the time I - was moved downstairs to Theodore Ivanitch and the elder boys. - - When I was moved downstairs to Theodore Ivanitch and the boys, I - experienced for the first time and therefore more strongly than - ever since, the feeling which is called the sense of duty, the - consciousness of the cross every man is called upon to bear. It - was hard to leave what I was accustomed to from the beginning of - things, and I was sad, poetically sad, not so much at parting from - people: sister, nurse, and aunt, as at parting with my crib, the - curtain and the pillow; and I feared the new life into which I was - entering. I tried to see the jolly side of this new life awaiting - me; I tried to believe the caressing words with which Theodore - Ivanitch lured me to him. I tried not to see the contempt with - which the boys received me, the youngest boy. I tried to think - it was a shame for a big boy to live with girls, and that there - was nothing good in the life upstairs with nurse; but my heart - was terribly sad, I knew I was irreparably losing my innocence - and happiness; and only a feeling of personal dignity and the - consciousness of doing my duty upheld me. (Often in after-life I - have experienced similar moments at the parting of crossroads, - when entering on a fresh course.) I experienced quiet grief at the - irreparableness of my loss; I was unable to believe that it would - really happen. Though I had been told that I should be moved to - the boys' rooms, I remember that the dressing-gown with a cord - sewn to its back, which they put on me, seemed to cut me off for - ever from upstairs, and I then for the first time observed--not - all those with whom I had lived upstairs, but--the chief person - with whom I lived, and whom I did not remember before. This was my - Aunty Tatiana Alexandrovna Ergolsky. I remember her short, stout, - black-haired, kindly, tender, and compassionate. It was she who put - the dressing-gown on me, and embracing me and kissing me, tied it - round my waist; and I saw that she felt as I did, that it was sad, - terribly sad, but had to be; and for the first time I felt that - life is not a game but a serious matter. - -'Aunty' Tatiana Alexandrovna Ergolsky, mentioned in the above -reminiscences, was a very distant relative who being left an orphan, -had been brought up by Tolstoy's paternal grandparents. She was very -attractive and affectionate. She loved and was loved by Count Nicholas, -Leo's father, but stood aside that he might marry the rich Princess -Marie Volkonsky and repair the family fortunes. Six years after his -wife's death Count Nicholas asked Tatiana to marry him and be a mother -to his children. Not wishing (Tolstoy tells us) to spoil her pure, -poetic relations with the family, she refused the first but fulfilled -the second of these requests. - -The joyousness of Tolstoy's boyhood was largely due to the care and -affection of this excellent woman, and in the most firmly rooted of -his principles--such as his detestation of corporal punishment and his -approval of complete chastity--it is easy to trace her unconscious -influence. - -Here for instance is one episode: - - We children were returning home from a walk with our tutor, when - near the barn we met the fat steward, Andrew, followed by the - coachman's assistant, 'Squinting Kouzma' as he was called, whose - face was sad. He was a married man and no longer young. One of us - asked Andrew where he was going, and he quietly replied that he - was going to the barn, where Kouzma had to be punished. I cannot - describe the dreadful feeling which these words and the sight of - the good-natured crestfallen Kouzma produced on me. In the evening - I told this to my Aunt Tatiana, who hated corporal punishment and, - wherever she had influence, never allowed it for us any more than - for the serfs. She was greatly revolted at what I told her, and - rebuking me said, 'Why did you not stop him?' Her words grieved - me still more.... I never thought that we could interfere in such - things, and yet it appeared that we could. But it was too late, and - the dreadful deed had been done. - -To sum up what we know of Tolstoy's antecedents: he was descended on -his father's side and still more on his mother's, from aristocratic -families who were more or less in passive opposition to the Government, -and who shared the humanitarian sympathies current in the early years -of the reign of Alexander I. A cousin of Tolstoy's mother was one of -the Decembrists, and on the accession of Nicholas I in 1825 took part -in their abortive attempt to establish Constitutional Government. He -was exiled to Eastern Siberia for thirty years, doing hard labour in -irons part of the time. His wife (another Princess Marie Volkonsky) -voluntarily accompanied him, as Nekrasof has told in a well-known -Russian poem. Several members of the family towards the end of their -lives retired into convents or monasteries. - -We find strong family love uniting the homes of Tolstoy's parents and -grandparents; and even after their death, Tolstoy's nature ripened -in a congenial atmosphere of family affection; and many of his most -pronounced sympathies and antipathies are not peculiar to himself, but -were shared equally by other members of the family. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER I - -P. Birukof: _Lyof Nikolayevitch Tolstoy. Biografiya_: Moscow, 1906. -(The Russian edition is much more readable and accurate than the -English.) - - Referred to hereafter as _Birukof_. - -S. A. Behrs: _Vospominaniya o Grafe L. N. Tolstom_, Smolensk, 1894, -is very valuable as being the work of one who spent twelve summers at -Yasnaya, and knew Tolstoy intimately. - - Referred to hereafter as _Behrs_. - -There is an English edition of this book: _Recollections of Count Leo -Tolstoy_, London, 1893, but it is incomplete, and inferior to the -Russian in many ways. It gives the author's name wrongly as C. A. Behrs. - -Leo Tolstoy, _First Recollections_, a fragment: Tolstoy's collected -works, Moscow, 1892. - -Supplement to _Novy Mir_, Graf Lyof Tolstoy: St. Petersburg, 1903. - - Referred to hereafter as _Novy Mir_. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MANHOOD - -Yasnaya Polyana. Aunt Tatiana. The German Tutor. The brothers: -Nicholas, Sergius and Demetrius. Dounetchka. The house-serfs. A -family scene. Pilgrims and saints. Death of father and grandmother. -Flying. Personal appearance. Corporal punishment. Originality. Riding -lessons. The Countess Osten-Saken. Aunt P. I. Ushkof. Books. Abstract -speculations. Kazan University. Imprisonment. Diary. Demetrius. Books: -Dickens and Rousseau. Yasnaya again. Petersburg. Consistency. Rudolph -the Musician. Women. Gambling. Gipsy girls. Money difficulties. The -liberty of Russian nobles. - - -YASNAYA POLYANA (Bright Glade), where Tolstoy was born, had been -an ancestral estate of the Volkonskys and belonged to his mother, -the Princess Marie. It is situated ten miles south of Toula, in a -pleasantly undulating country. The estate, which is enclosed by an -old brick wall, is well wooded and has many avenues of lime-trees, a -river and four lakes. In Tolstoy's grandfather's time, sentinels kept -guard at the small, round, brick towers, which now stand neglected at -the entrance of the main birch avenue leading to the house. Something -of the great confidence in himself and readiness to despise others, -which despite all his efforts to be humble, characterise Tolstoy, may -be due to the fact that he was born and grew up on an estate where for -generations his ancestors had been the only people of importance. - -'Aunty' Tatiana Alexandrovna Ergolsky had been brought up by his -grandmother on an equality with her own children. She (Tatiana) was -resolute, self-sacrificing, and, says Tolstoy, - - must have been very attractive with her enormous plait of crisp, - black, curly hair, her jet-black eyes, and vivacious, energetic - expression. When I remember her she was more than forty, and I - never thought about her as pretty or not pretty. I simply loved - her eyes, her smile, and her dusky broad little hand, with its - energetic little cross vein. - - We had two aunts and a grandmother; they all had more right to us - than Tatiana Alexandrovna, whom we called Aunt only by habit (for - our kinship was so distant that I could never remember what it - was), but she took the first place in our upbringing by right of - love to us (like Buddha in the story of the wounded swan), and we - felt her right. - - I had fits of passionately tender love for her. - - I remember once, when I was about five, how I squeezed in behind - her on the sofa in the drawing-room and she caressingly touched me - with her hand. I caught it and began to kiss it, and to cry with - tender love of her.... - - Aunty Tatiana had the greatest influence on my life. From early - childhood she taught me the spiritual delight of love. She taught - me this joy not by words; but by her whole being she filled me with - love. I saw, I felt, how she enjoyed loving, and I understood the - joy of love. This was the first thing. - - Secondly, she taught me the delights of an unhurried, quiet life. - -Another, though a much less important, influence was that of the tutor, -Theodore Roessel (who figures as Karl Ivanovitch Mauer in Tolstoy's -early sketch, _Childhood_). Tolstoy owes his excellent knowledge of -German and French to the fact that his father, following a custom -common among well-to-do Russians, engaged foreign teachers and let his -children learn languages not so much from books as by conversation, -while they were still quite young. Roessel's 'honest, straightforward, -and loving nature' helped to develop the boy's good qualities. - -Tolstoy got on well, too, with his brothers, who were five-and-a-half, -two, and one year older than himself, as well as with his little sister -Marie, his junior by a year-and-a-half. - -He not only loved, but deeply respected, his eldest brother Nicholas -(pet name, Nikolenka), whose influence lasted until, and even after, -his death in 1860. Of him Tolstoy says: - - He was a wonderful boy, and later a wonderful man. Tourgenef used - to say of him very truly, that he only lacked certain faults - to be a great writer. He lacked the chief fault needed for - authorship--vanity, and was not at all interested in what people - thought of him. The qualities of a writer which he possessed were, - first of all, a fine artistic sense, an extremely developed sense - of proportion, a good-natured gay sense of humour, an extraordinary - inexhaustible imagination, and a truthful and highly moral view of - life; and all this without the slightest conceit. His imagination - was such that for hours together he could tell fairy-tales or - ghost-stories, or amusing tales in the style of Mrs. Radcliffe, - without a pause and with such vivid realisation of what he was - narrating that one forgot it was all invention.... When he was not - narrating or reading (he read a great deal) he used to draw. He - almost invariably drew devils with horns and twisted moustaches, - intertwined in the most varied attitudes and engaged in the most - diverse occupations. These drawings were also full of imagination. - - It was he who, when I was five and my brothers, Dmitry six and - Sergey seven, announced to us that he possessed a secret by means - of which, when disclosed, all men would become happy: there would - be no more disease, no trouble, no one would be angry with anybody, - all would love one another, and all would become 'Ant-Brothers.'... - We even organised a game of Ant-Brothers, which consisted in - sitting under chairs, sheltering ourselves with boxes, screening - ourselves with handkerchiefs, and cuddling against one another - while thus crouching in the dark.... The Ant-Brotherhood was - revealed to us, but not the chief secret: the way for all men - to cease suffering any misfortune, to leave off quarrelling and - being angry, and become continuously happy; this secret he said - he had written on a green stick, buried by the road at the edge - of a certain ravine, at which spot (since my body must be buried - somewhere) I have asked to be buried in memory of Nikolenka. - Besides this little stick, there was also a certain Fanfaronof - Hill, up which he said he could lead us, if only we would fulfil - all the appointed conditions. These were: first, to stand in a - corner and not think of a white bear. I remember how I used to get - into a corner and try (but could not possibly manage) not to think - of a white bear. The second condition was to walk without wavering - along a crack between the boards of the floor; and the third was, - for a whole year not to see a hare, alive or dead or cooked; and - it was necessary to swear not to reveal these secrets to any one. - He who fulfilled these, and other more difficult conditions which - Nikolenka would communicate later, would have one wish, whatever it - might be, fulfilled. - - Nikolenka, as I now conjecture, had probably read or heard of the - Freemasons--of their aspirations toward the happiness of mankind, - and of the mysterious initiatory rites on entering their order; he - had probably also heard about the Moravian Brothers [in Russian - _ant_ is _mouravey_]. - -Writing when he was over seventy, Tolstoy adds: - - The ideal of ant-brothers lovingly clinging to one another, though - not under two arm-chairs curtained by handkerchiefs, but of all - mankind under the wide dome of heaven, has remained the same for - me. As I then believed that there existed a little green stick - whereon was written the message which could destroy all evil in - men and give them universal welfare, so I now believe that such - truth exists and will be revealed to men, and will give them all it - promises. - -It was, however, Tolstoy's second brother, Sergius (or Sergey: pet -name, Seryozha), whom Tolstoy in his young days most enthusiastically -admired and wished to imitate. Sergius was handsome, proud, -straightforward, and singularly sincere. Of him Leo Tolstoy says: - - I loved and wished to be like him. I admired his handsome - appearance, his singing (he was always singing), his drawing, - his gaiety and especially (strange as it may seem to say so) the - spontaneity of his egotism. I myself was always aware of myself - and self-conscious; I always guessed, rightly or wrongly, what - other people thought or felt about me, and this spoilt my joy in - life. This probably is why in others I specially liked the opposite - feature--spontaneity of egotism. And for this I specially loved - Seryozha. The word _loved_ is not correct. I loved Nikolenka; but - for Seryozha I was filled with admiration as for something quite - apart from and incomprehensible to me. - -Of the third brother, Demetrius (or Dmitry: pet name, Mitenka), only a -year older than himself, Tolstoy tells us: - - I hardly remember him as a boy. I only know by hearsay that as a - child he was very capricious. He was nearest to me in age and I - played with him oftenest, but did not love him as much as I loved - Seryozha, nor as I loved and respected Nikolenka. He and I lived - together amicably. I do not recollect that we quarrelled. Probably - we did, and we may even have fought.... As a child I remember - nothing special about Mitenka except his childish merriment. - -Tolstoy says he was 'afraid of beggars, and of one of the Volkonskys, -who used to pinch me; but, I think, of no one else.' - -A girl, Dounetchka Temeshof, was adopted as a member of the family. She -was a natural daughter of a wealthy bachelor friend of Tolstoy's father. - - I remember how, when I had already learnt French, I was made to - teach her that alphabet. At first it went all right (we were both - about five years old), but later she probably became tired, and - ceased to name correctly the letters I pointed out. I insisted. She - began to cry. I did the same, and when our elders came, we could - say nothing owing to our hopeless tears. - -In his later recollections of her he says: - - She was not clever, but was a good, simple girl; and, above all, so - pure that we boys never had any but brotherly relations with her. - -By which he means that there was no flirtation. - -The relations between the family and its servants, who were serfs -(and of whom there were about thirty), were, as in many a Russian -family, often really affectionate. One instance of a serf's devotion -has already been quoted; and such cases were not rare. In _Childhood_ -mention is made of the old housekeeper, Praskovya Isayevna, who was -completely devoted to the welfare of the family, and Tolstoy says: 'All -that I there wrote about her was actual truth.' - -Here is another example illustrating both kindly toleration of minor -offences committed by a serf, and the family affection which sweetened -life: - - My pleasantest recollections of my father are of his sitting with - grandmother on the sofa, helping her to play Patience. My father - was polite and tender with every one, but to my grandmother he was - always particularly tenderly submissive. They used to sit--Grandma - playing Patience, and from time to time taking pinches from a - gold snuff-box. My aunts sit in arm-chairs, and one of them reads - aloud. We children come in to say good-night, and sometimes sit - there. We always take leave of Grandma and our aunts by kissing - their hands. I remember once, in the middle of a game of Patience - and of the reading, my father interrupts my aunt, points to a - looking-glass and whispers something. We all look in the same - direction. It was the footman Tikhon, who (knowing that my father - was in the drawing-room) was going into the study to take some - tobacco from a big leather folding tobacco-pouch. My father sees - him in the looking-glass, and notices his figure carefully stepping - on tip-toe. My aunts laugh. Grandmama for a long time does not - understand, but when she does, she too smiles cheerfully. I am - enchanted by my father's kindness, and on taking leave of him kiss - his white muscular hand with special tenderness. - -An important feature of the life in which Tolstoy grew up was furnished -by the half-crazy saints who swarmed in Russia in those days, and are -still occasionally to be met with. Readers of _Childhood_ will remember -Grisha, an admirable specimen of that class, about whom Tolstoy makes -the following characteristic note in his memoirs: - - Grisha is an invented character. We had many of these half-crazy - saints at our house, and I was taught to regard them with profound - respect, for which I am deeply grateful to those who brought me - up. If there were some among them who were insincere, or who - experienced periods of weakness and insincerity, yet the aim of - their life, though practically absurd, was so lofty that I am glad - I learned in childhood unconsciously to understand the height of - their achievement. They accomplished what Marcus Aurelius speaks - of when he says: 'There is nothing higher than to endure contempt - for one's good life.' So harmful and so unavoidable is the desire - for human glory which always contaminates good deeds, that one - cannot but sympathise with the effort not merely to avoid praise, - but even to evoke contempt. Such a character was Marya Gerasimovna, - my sister's godmother, and the semi-idiot Evdokimoushka, and some - others in our house. - -How deeply these early impressions were engraved on Tolstoy's mind -is obvious from his earliest as well as his latest writings. Take, -for instance, the lines from _Childhood_ referring to Grisha's prayer -overheard by the children. - - Much water has flowed away since then, many recollections of the - past have lost for me their meaning and become blurred fancies; - even the pilgrim Grisha himself has long since finished his last - pilgrimage; but the impression he produced on me and the feeling he - evoked, will never die out of my memory. - -In Tolstoy's later life we shall again and again find this medieval -note recurring (with whatever of truth or falsity it contains), and the -assertion that it is not the usefulness or uselessness of a man's life -that matters, so much as his self-abnegation and the humility of his -soul. - -To complete the picture of Tolstoy's early boyhood at Yasnaya Polyana, -we must think of him as interested in his father's dogs and horses -and hunting (in _Childhood_ he tells the true story of how he hunted -his first hare), and also in the games and masquerades with which -the family and visitors, as well as the servants, amused themselves, -especially at New Year. - -In spite of his sensitive introspective nature, Tolstoy's childhood was -a happy one; and to it he always looks back with pleasure. He speaks -of 'that splendid, innocent, joyful, poetic period of childhood, up to -fourteen,' and he tells us that the impressions of early childhood, -preserved in one's memory, grow in some unfathomable depth of the soul, -like seeds thrown on good ground, till after many years they thrust -their bright, green shoots into God's world. - - -1837 - -When Tolstoy was eight years old the family moved to Moscow for his -elder brothers' education. The following summer they lost their father, -who, having gone to Toula on business, fell down in the street on his -way to visit his friend Temeshof, and died of apoplexy. What money he -had with him was stolen, but some unnegotiable bonds were brought back -to the Tolstoys in Moscow by an unknown beggar. The funeral took place -at Yasnaya Polyana; and Leo, who did not attend it, long fancied that -his father was not really dead. Looking at the faces of strangers in -the streets of Moscow, he felt almost certain he might at any moment -meet him alive again. - -This event brought the problems of life and death vividly to the boy's -mind, and nine months later the impression was intensified by the -death of his grandmother, who never recovered from the shock of her -son's death. Hers was the first death Tolstoy witnessed, and he never -forgot the horror he felt when, as she lay dying of dropsy, he was -admitted to kiss her swollen white hand and saw her, dressed in white, -lying motionless on a high white bed. But he says: - - I remember that new jackets of black material, braided with white, - were made for all of us. It was dreadful to see the undertakers' - men hanging about near the house, and then bringing in the coffin, - with its lid covered with glazed brocade, and my grandmother's - stern face, with its Roman nose, and her white cap and the white - kerchief on her neck, lying high in the coffin on the table; and - it was sad to see the tears of our aunts and of Pashenka; but yet - the new braided jackets and the soothing attitude adopted towards - us by those around, gratified us.... I remember how pleasant it - was to me to overhear during the funeral the conversation of some - gossiping female guests, who said, 'Complete orphans; their father - only lately dead, and now the grandmother gone too.' - -Some time after this, an event occurred that is recorded on the first -page of Tolstoy's _Confession_: - - I remember how, when I was about eleven, a boy Vladimir Milutin - (long since dead), a Grammar School pupil, visited us one Sunday - and announced as the latest novelty a discovery made at his School. - The discovery was that there is no God, and all that we are taught - about Him is a mere invention. I remember how interested my elder - brothers were in this news. They called me to their council and - we all, I remember, became animated, and accepted the news as - something very interesting and fully possible. - -Various stories have been preserved relating to Tolstoy's boyhood, and -some of them are sufficiently characteristic to be worth repeating. - -One incident which made a strong impression on the lad, keenly -sensitive as he always was to any shade of injustice, was the following: - -Soon after the death of their father and grandmother, the orphan -Tolstoys, then living in rather straitened circumstances (owing to the -property being left in trust), were invited to a Christmas Tree at the -house of an acquaintance, and the young Princes Gortchakof, nephews of -the then Minister of War, were also among the guests. All the children -received presents; but whereas the Gortchakofs had expensive ones, the -Tolstoys, to their annoyance, received cheap common ones. - -Another occurrence that clung to his recollection through life, was -the friendly welcome they received one day when they made their way -uninvited into a private garden in Moscow; and the sad disappointment -they experienced when, returning a few days later unaccompanied by -a pretty and attractive girl who had been with them on the former -occasion, they were coldly informed that it was private ground, not -open to the public. - -Other stories, told by Tolstoy himself or by the family, illustrate his -impulsive, imaginative, strenuous and rather erratic nature at this -period. - -When he was about seven or eight years old he had an ardent desire to -fly, and persuaded himself that it was possible to do so. It was only -necessary to sit down tight on your heels, clasping your arms firmly -round your knees, and the tighter you held them the higher you would -fly. As Tolstoy was always ardent to put his beliefs into practice, it -is not very surprising that one day, soon after the family had moved -to Moscow, he stayed behind in the class-room when he should have come -down to dinner, and climbing out on the window-sill, some six yards -from the ground, threw himself out. He was picked up unconscious. -The ill results of his fall were fortunately confined to a slight -concussion of the brain; and after sleeping for eighteen hours on end -he woke up again quite well. - -It would be a mistake to take his story, _Childhood_, as strictly -autobiographical; but it contains many passages which one knows from -other sources to be true of his own life, and one such is the passage -in which (speaking in the character of Nikolenka) he says: - - I knew very well that I was plain, and therefore every reference - to my appearance was painfully offensive to me.... Moments of - despair frequently came over me: I imagined that there could be no - happiness on earth for a man with so broad a nose, such thick lips, - and such small grey eyes as mine. I asked God to perform a miracle - and change me into a handsome boy, and all I then had and all I - could ever possess in the future, I would have given for a handsome - face. - -In fact, his personal appearance caused the sensitive lad much concern, -but his efforts to improve it were unsuccessful. On one occasion he -clipped his eyebrows, and the unsatisfactory results of that operation -occasioned him great grief. - -He records in his Reminiscences the following incident, which certainly -intensified his lifelong antipathy to corporal punishment: - - I do not remember for what, but for something quite undeserving of - punishment, St. Thomas [the resident French tutor who succeeded - Roessel] first locked me into a room, and secondly threatened to - flog me. I thereupon experienced a dreadful feeling of anger - indignation and disgust, not only towards St. Thomas himself, but - towards the violence with which I was threatened. - -When quite a small boy he conceived an attachment for the nine-year-old -daughter of his father's friend, Islenyef, and being jealous of her for -daring to talk to others, he angrily pushed her off a balcony, with -the result that she limped for a long time afterwards. A quarter of a -century later, when he married this lady's daughter, his mother-in-law -used laughingly to remind him of the incident, and say, 'Evidently -you pushed me off the balcony in my childhood that you might marry my -daughter afterwards!' - -His sister relates that once when they were driving in a troika (_i.e._ -three horses abreast) to Yasnaya, Leo got down during a break in the -journey and went forward on foot. When the carriage started again and -began to overtake him he took to running, and when the horses went -faster he also increased his speed, racing as hard as he could. He -was not overtaken till he had gone about two miles and was completely -tired out. He was lifted back into the carriage gasping for breath, -perspiring and quite exhausted. Any one not endowed with the remarkable -physical vigour that, in spite of frequent attacks of ill-health, has -characterised Tolstoy through life, would probably have done themselves -serious injury had they taxed their vital resources as recklessly as he -often did. - -All accounts agree in representing him as an original and odd little -fellow, unwilling to do things like other people. He would for instance -enter a drawing-room and, carefully placing his feet together and -bending his head, would make his bow backwards, saluting each of the -company in turn. - -Two incidents are recorded relating to the love of riding which has -remained a characteristic of his through life. - -When his brothers were sent to a riding-school, Leo (in spite of his -father's assurances and those of the riding-master that he was too -small to begin and would tumble off) also obtained permission to learn -to ride. At his first lesson he duly tumbled off, but begged to be -replaced in the saddle; and he did not fall off again, but became an -expert horseman. In one of the short stories he wrote many years later -for the use of school-children, he tells how he once wished to ride -the old horse Raven after his brothers had each had a turn on it; and -how Raven being too tired to move from the stables, he beat it till he -broke his switch on its sides. He then demanded a stouter switch from -the serf in charge, but the man replied: - - 'Ah, master, you have no pity! Why do you beat him? He is twenty - years old, and is tired out; he can hardly breathe. Why, for a - horse, he is as old as Timofeyitch [a very old peasant living at - the place]. You might as well get on Timofeyitch's back, and drive - him beyond his strength like that, with a switch. Would you feel no - pity for him?' - - I thought of Timofeyitch, and hearkened to the man. I got off - the horse's back; and when I noticed how its steaming sides were - working, and how heavily it breathed through its nostrils, swishing - its thin tail, I understood how hard it was for it. Till then I - had thought that it was as happy as I was myself. And I felt so - sorry for Raven that I began to kiss his sweaty neck and to beg his - pardon for having beaten him. - - Since then I have grown up, but I always have pity on horses, and - always remember Raven and Timofeyitch when I see horses ill-treated. - -He does not appear to have been very good at his lessons, and himself -somewhere mentions the dictum of a student who used to coach his -brothers and himself, and said of their aptitude for learning: - - 'Sergey both wishes and can, Dmitry wishes but can't' (this was - not true), 'and Leo neither wishes nor can.' (This, I think, was - perfectly true.) - -On the other hand, St. Thomas, the French tutor already referred to -(he figures in _Childhood_ as St. Jerome), must have noticed the lad's -capacity, for he used to say, '_Ce petit a une tete: c'est un petit -Moliere_' (This little one has a head: he is a little Moliere). - - -1837 - -After the father's death the family property passed under the control -of the Court of Wards, and expenses had to be cut down. It was -therefore decided that, though the two elder brothers had to remain -in Moscow for the sake of their education, the three younger children -should return to Yasnaya Polyana, where living was cheaper, in charge -of their much loved Aunty Tatiana. Their legal guardian, the Countess -Alexandra ('Aline') Ilynishna Osten-Saken, remained in Moscow with the -elder boys. - -This lady had made what seemed a brilliant marriage with the wealthy -Count Osten-Saken, whose family was among the first in the Baltic -Provinces; but her married life was a terrible one. Her husband went -out of his mind and tried to kill her. While he was confined in an -asylum, the Countess gave birth to a still-born child. To save her from -this fresh shock, a girl born of a servant, the wife of a Court cook, -was substituted for the still-born baby. This girl, Pashenka, lived -with the Tolstoy family, and was already grown up when Tolstoy was -quite a child. Subsequently the Countess Alexandra lived first with her -parents and then with her brother, Tolstoy's father. Though she was a -devotee of the Orthodox Russo-Greek Church of which Tolstoy eventually -became so fierce an opponent, much in her character and conduct accords -with the precepts laid down in his later writings; and it is evident -that certain aspects of his understanding of the Christian character, -which strike most Englishmen as peculiar, far from being invented out -of his own head, are derived from a deeply-rooted Russian and family -tradition. He tells us: - - My aunt was a truly religious woman. Her favourite occupation - was reading the Lives of the Saints, conversing with pilgrims, - half-crazy devotees, monks and nuns, of whom some always lived - in our house, while others only visited my aunt.... She was not - merely outwardly religious, keeping the fasts, praying much, and - associating with people of saintly life, but she herself lived - a truly Christian life, trying not only to avoid all luxury and - acceptance of service, but herself serving others as much as - possible. She never had any money, for she gave away all she had - to those who asked. A servant related to me how, during their life - in Moscow, my aunt used carefully on tip-toe to pass her sleeping - maid, when going to Matins, and used herself to perform all the - duties which it was in those days customary for a maid to perform. - In food and dress she was as simple and unexacting as can possibly - be imagined. Unpleasant as it is to me to mention it, I remember - from childhood a specific acid smell connected with my aunt, - probably due to negligence in her toilet: and this was the graceful - poetic Aline with beautiful blue eyes, who used to love reading and - copying French verses, who played on the harp, and always had great - success at the grandest balls! I remember how affectionate and kind - she always was, and this equally to the most important men and - women and to the nuns and pilgrims. - -Tolstoy goes on to tell how pleasantly she bore the jests and teasing -that her devotion to the priests brought upon her. - - I remember her dear good-natured laugh, and her face shining with - pleasure. The religious feeling which filled her soul was evidently - so important to her, so much higher than anything else, that she - could not be angry or annoyed at anything, and could not attribute - to worldly matters the importance others attach to them. - - -1840 - -In the summer of 1839 the whole family assembled at Yasnaya Polyana. -The next year, 1840, was a famine year. The crops were so poor that -corn had to be bought to feed the serfs, and to raise funds for this -purpose one of the Tolstoys' estates had to be sold. The supply of -oats for the horses was stopped, and Tolstoy remembers how he and his -brothers, pitying their ponies, secretly gathered oats for them in the -peasants' fields, quite unconscious of the crime they were committing. - - -1841 - -In the autumn of that year the whole family moved to Moscow, returning -to Yasnaya for the following summer. The next autumn their guardian, -the kind good Countess Alexandra Osten-Saken, died in the Convent -or 'Hermitage' founded by Optin (a robber chief of the fourteenth -century) in the Government of Kalouga, to which she had retired. - -After her death her sister, Pelageya Ilynishna Ushkof, became their -guardian. She was the wife of a Kazan landowner. Aunty Tatiana and she -were not on friendly terms; there was no open quarrel between them, -but V. I. Ushkof (Pelageya's husband) had been a suitor for Tatiana's -hand in his youth, and had been refused. Pelageya could not forgive her -husband's old love for Tatiana. - -The change of guardianship led to the removal of the family to Kazan, -and to the children being separated from Aunty Tatiana, much to her -grief. - -The books which up to the age of fourteen, when he went to Kazan, had -most influenced Tolstoy were, he tells us, the Story of Joseph from the -Bible, the _Forty Thieves_ and _Prince Kamaralzaman_ from the _Arabian -Nights_, various Russian folk-legends, Poushkin's _Tales_ and his poem -_Napoleon_, and _The Black Hen_ by Pogorelsky. The influence the story -of Joseph had on him, he says, was 'immense.' - -In his aptitude for abstract speculation, as in other respects, -the boy was truly father to the man; and in a passage, certainly -autobiographical, in _Boyhood_, he says: - - It will hardly be believed what were the favourite and most common - subjects of my reflections in my boyhood--so incompatible were - they with my age and situation. But in my opinion incompatibility - between a man's position and his moral activity is the surest sign - of truth.... - - At one time the thought occurred to me that happiness does not - depend on external causes, but on our relation to them; and that - a man accustomed to bear suffering cannot be unhappy. To accustom - myself therefore to endurance, I would hold Tatishef's dictionaries - in my outstretched hand for five minutes at a time, though it - caused me terrible pain; or I would go to the lumber room and flog - myself on my bare back with a cord so severely that tears started - to my eyes. - - At another time suddenly remembering that death awaits me every - hour and every minute, I decided (wondering why people had not - understood this before) that man can only be happy by enjoying the - present and not thinking of the future; and for three days, under - the influence of this thought, I abandoned my lessons, and did - nothing but lie on my bed and enjoy myself, reading a novel and - eating honey-gingerbreads, on which I spent my last coins.... - - But no philosophic current swayed me so much as scepticism, which - at one time brought me to the verge of insanity. I imagined that - except myself no one and nothing existed in the world, that - objects are not objects but apparitions, appearing only when I pay - attention to them and disappearing as soon as I cease to think of - them. In a word, I coincided with Schelling in the conviction that - what exists is not objects, but only my relation to them. There - were moments in which under the influence of this fixed idea, I - reached such a stage of absurdity that I glanced quickly round - hoping to catch Nothingness by surprise, there where I was not. - - The philosophical discoveries I made greatly flattered my vanity: - I often imagined myself a great man, discovering new truths for - the benefit of humanity, and I looked on other mortals with a - proud consciousness of my own dignity; yet, strange to say, when - I came in contact with these mortals I grew timid before each of - them. The higher I stood in my own opinion the less was I able to - show any consciousness of my own dignity before others, or even to - avoid being ashamed of every word or movement of my own--even the - simplest. - -At the time of the move to Kazan, a serf lad of about his own age was -presented to each of the young Tolstoys to attend on him. Alexis, the -one given to Leo Tolstoy, remained in his service all his life, and -died at Yasnaya a few years ago. - - -1841 - -For five and a half years, from the autumn of 1841 to the spring of -1847, the brothers lived at Kazan, returning each summer to Yasnaya for -the vacation. They all entered Kazan University. The aunt who was their -guardian, and with whom they lived the greater part of the time, was a -kind but not particularly clever woman. Her house was the centre of -much hospitality and gaiety. - - -1844 - -Leo Tolstoy prepared to enter the faculty of Oriental Languages, in -which a knowledge of Arabic and Turco-Tartar was required. He worked -hard, and matriculated in May 1844 before he was sixteen, passing in -French (for which he received the mark 5+; 5 being in an ordinary -way the highest mark, and the + indicating exceptional distinction), -German, Arabic, and Turco-Tartar very well, and in English, Logic, -Mathematics and Russian Literature, well; but he did indifferently -in Latin, and failed completely in History and Geography, getting -the lowest mark, a 1, for each of them. Of History he says, 'I knew -nothing,' and of Geography 'still less'; adding, 'I was asked to name -the French seaports, but I could not name a single one.' At the end of -the summer vacation he was admitted for re-examination in the subjects -in which he had failed, and passed successfully. - - -1844-1845 - -The winter season when Tolstoy, as a student at the University and a -young man of good position, entered Kazan society, was a particularly -gay one. He attended many balls, given by the Governor of the Province, -by the _Marechal de la Noblesse_, and by private people, as well as -many masquerades, concerts, tableaux-vivants, and private theatricals. -He is still remembered by old inhabitants as having been 'present at -all the balls, soirees, and aristocratic parties, a welcome guest -everywhere, and always dancing, but, far from being a ladies' man, he -was distinguished by a strange awkwardness and shyness.' At Carnival -time in 1845 he and his brother Sergius took parts in two plays given -for some charitable object. His performance was a great success. - -As to the nature of Kazan society and of his surroundings there, -accounts are contradictory. On the one hand, we have his own statement -that (imitating his brother Sergius in this as in other matters) -he became 'depraved.' Birukof, too, speaks of 'the detestable -surroundings of Tolstoy's life in Kazan,' and another writer, -Zagoskin, a fellow-student of Tolstoy's at the University, says that -the surroundings in which the latter moved were demoralising and must -have been repellent to him. On the other hand, on seeing Zagoskin's -remarks, Tolstoy (in whom there is often observable a strong spirit of -contradiction) replied: - - I did not feel any repulsion, but was very glad to enjoy myself - in Kazan society, which was then very good. I am on the contrary - thankful to fate that I passed my first youth in an environment - where a young man could be young without touching problems - beyond his grasp, and that I lived a life which, though idle and - luxurious, was yet not evil. - -The explanation of these contradictions, no doubt, is that the family -circle in which Tolstoy lived was an affectionate one, and that he -himself not only enjoyed his life, but formed friendships and made -efforts at which in later years he looked back with satisfaction. -Yet there was assuredly much in his life and in the life around him -which (except when others were severe on it) he recalled with grave -disapproval, a disapproval he has plainly expressed in his _Confession_. - -To come as near as we may to the truth, we must allow for the personal -equation which, in Tolstoy's case, is violent and fluctuating. - -With constant amusements going on around him, it is not surprising that -at the end of his first University year he failed in his examinations. -The failure does not however appear to have been entirely his fault, -for he tells us: - - Ivanof, Professor of Russian History, prevented me from passing - to the second course (though I had not missed a single lecture - and knew Russian History quite well) because he had quarrelled - with my family. The same Professor also gave me the lowest mark--a - 'one'--for German, though I knew the language incomparably better - than any student in our division. - - -1845 - -Instead of remaining for a second year in the first course of Oriental -Languages, Tolstoy preferred to leave that faculty, and in August -1845 he entered the faculty of Law. During the first months of this -new course he hardly studied at all, throwing himself more than ever -into the gay life of Kazan society. Before midwinter however he began -for the first time, as he tells us, 'to study seriously, and I even -found a certain pleasure in so doing.' Comparative Jurisprudence and -Criminal Law interested him, and his attention was especially arrested -by a discussion on Capital Punishment. Meyer, Professor of Civil Law, -set him a task which quite absorbed him; it was the comparison of -Montesquieu's _Esprit des Lois_ with Catherine the Second's _Great -Nakaz_. The conclusion to which he came was, that in Catherine's -_Nakaz_ one finds Montesquieu's Liberal ideas mixed with the expression -of Catherine's own despotism and vanity, and that the _Nakaz_ brought -more fame to Catherine than good to Russia. - - -1846 - -He passed his examinations successfully in May 1846, and was duly -admitted to the second year's course of Jurisprudence. Some time -previously Tolstoy and another student had disputed which of them had -the better memory, and to test this, each of them learnt by heart the -reply to one examination question in History. Tolstoy's task was to -learn the life of Mazeppa, and as luck would have it that was just the -question he happened to draw at his examination, so that he naturally -obtained a 5, the highest mark. - -From the autumn of 1846 the three brothers, Sergius Demetrius and Leo, -ceased to live at their aunt's, and settled in a flat of their own, -consisting of five rooms. - -A fellow-student, Nazaryef, has given us his impression of Tolstoy as a -student. He says: - - I kept clear of the Count, who from our first meeting repelled me - by his assumption of coldness, his bristly hair and the piercing - expression of his half-closed eyes. I had never met a young man - with such a strange and, to me, incomprehensible air of importance - and self-satisfaction.... - - At first I seldom met the Count, who in spite of his awkwardness - and bashfulness had joined the small group of so-called - 'aristocrats.' He hardly replied to my greetings, as if wishing to - intimate that even here we were far from being equals, since he - drove up with a fast trotter and I came on foot.... - -It so happened that Nazaryef and Tolstoy were both late for a lecture -on History one day, and were incarcerated together by order of the -Inspector. - -One gathers that Tolstoy was in those days particularly careful of -his personal appearance, his clothes indicating his aristocratic -pretensions. But though externally the Tolstoy of 1846 differed greatly -from the Tolstoy of forty years later, his conversation ran on much -the same lines as in later life, and was uttered with the intensity of -conviction and the flashes of dry humour which have since made even the -most didactic of his writings so readable. - -Their conversation in their place of confinement having led to some -mention of Lermontof's poem, _The Demon_, Tolstoy took occasion to -speak ironically of verse generally, and then, noticing a volume his -companion had of Karamzin's _History of Russia_, he - - attacked History as the dullest and almost the most useless of - subjects. A collection of fables and useless details, sprinkled - with a mass of unnecessary figures and proper names.... Who wants - to know that the second marriage of John the Terrible, with - Temruk's daughter, took place on 21st August 1562; and his fourth - marriage, with Anna Alexeyevna Koltorsky, in 1572? Yet they expect - me to grind all this, and if I don't, the examiner gives me a 'one.' - -Later on, says Nazaryef, 'the, to me, irresistible force of Tolstoy's -doubts fell upon the University, and on University teaching in general. -The phrase, "The Temple of Science," was constantly on his lips. -Remaining perfectly serious himself, he portrayed our professors -in such a comical light that, in spite of all my efforts to appear -indifferent, I laughed like one possessed.... "Yet," said Tolstoy, "we -both had a right to expect that we should leave this temple useful -men, equipped with knowledge. But what shall we really carry away from -the University?... What shall we be good for, and to whom shall we be -necessary?" - -Nazaryef says that in spite of the feeling half of dislike, half of -perplexity, that Tolstoy evoked in him, he well remembers that he was -dimly conscious of something remarkable, exceptional, and at the same -time inexplicable, about him. - -From the educational articles Tolstoy wrote sixteen years later, we -know that he disapproved of examinations, of the restricted groove of -studies marked out for the students in each faculty, and of the system -which made it necessary for the professors to deliver original lectures -of their own, and obliged the students to listen to those lectures and -to study them, however incompetent the professors might be. - - -1847 - -The fact that his brother Sergius had finished his studies and was -leaving, strengthened Tolstoy's dissatisfaction with the University; -and finally, without waiting for the May examinations at which he might -have qualified for the third year's course, we find him, soon after -Easter 1847, applying to have his name removed from the University roll -'on account of ill-health and family affairs.' He really had been in -hospital in March, but the plea of ill-health was a mere excuse. - -His failure to take a degree was a source of great annoyance and -disappointment to him, and it must not be supposed that he left Kazan -with any idea of taking life easily or neglecting further study. - -From the time he was a boy he had kept a diary of every little sin -he had committed, and especially of any offence against the Seventh -Commandment, in order that he might repent, and if possible refrain -for the future, and his diary shows how full he was at this time of -strenuous resolutions. During the last year of his life at Kazan -he made close friends with a student named Dyakof (the Nehludof of -_Boyhood_), and under his influence had developed - - an ecstatic worship of the ideal of virtue, and the conviction - that it is man's destiny continually to perfect himself. To put - all mankind right and to destroy all human vices and misfortunes, - appeared a matter that could well be accomplished. It seemed quite - easy and simple to put oneself right, to acquire all the virtues, - and to be happy. - -Here are some rules he set himself at that time: - - 1. To fulfil what I set myself, despite all obstacles. - - 2. To fulfil well what I do undertake. - - 3. Never to refer to a book for what I have forgotten, but always - to try to recall it to mind myself. - - 4. Always to make my mind work with its utmost power. - - 5. Always to read and think aloud. - - 6. Not to be ashamed of telling people who interrupt me, that they - are hindering me: letting them first feel it, but (if they do not - understand) telling them, with an apology. - -Deciding to settle at Yasnaya for two years, he drew up a list of -studies he intended to pursue for his own mental development, and to -qualify for a University degree; and this list was, as the reader will -see, appalling in its scope. - - 1. To study the whole course of law necessary to get my degree. - - 2. To study practical medicine, and to some extent its theory also. - - 3. To study: French, Russian, German, English, Italian, and Latin. - - 4. To study agriculture, theoretically and practically. - - 5. To study History, Geography, and Statistics. - - 6. To study Mathematics (the High School course). - - 7. To write my [University] thesis. - - 8. To reach the highest perfection I can in music and painting. - - 9. To write down rules (for my conduct). - - 10. To acquire some knowledge of the natural sciences, and, - - 11. To write essays on all the subjects I study. - -Such rules and resolutions abound in Tolstoy's Diary. After failing to -act up to them, he again and again gathers his energies and maps out -for himself plans of life and courses of study sufficient to tax the -energies of an intellectual giant. - -As to his religious opinions at this time, he tells us: - - I was baptized and brought up in the Orthodox Christian faith. I - was taught it in childhood and all through my boyhood and youth. - But before I left the University, in my second year, at the age - of eighteen, I no longer believed anything I had been taught. - (_Confession._) - -His Diary nevertheless shows that he prayed frequently and earnestly; -the fact no doubt being, that though intellectually he discarded -the Orthodox Russo-Greek Church, in times of trouble or distress he -instinctively appealed to God for help. His opinions were wavering and -immature, as he himself tells us in another passage: - - The religious beliefs taught me in childhood disappeared... and as - from the time I was fifteen I began to read philosophic works, my - rejection of those beliefs very soon became a conscious one. From - the age of sixteen I ceased going to Church and fasting of my own - accord. I did not believe what had been taught me from childhood, - but I believed in something. What it was I believed in, I could not - at all have said. I believed in a God, or rather I did not deny - God; but I could not have said what sort of God. Neither did I deny - Christ and his teaching, but what his teaching consisted in I - could also not have said. - - Looking back on that time now, I see clearly that my faith--my only - real faith, that which apart from my animal instincts gave impulse - to my life--was a belief in perfecting oneself. But in what this - perfecting consisted and what its object was, I could not have - said. I tried to perfect myself mentally--I studied everything - I could: anything life threw in my way; I tried to perfect my - will, I drew up rules which I tried to follow; I perfected myself - physically, cultivating my strength and agility by all sorts of - exercises and accustoming myself to endurance and patience by all - kinds of privations. And all this I considered to be perfecting - myself. The beginning of it all was, of course, moral perfecting; - but that was soon replaced by perfecting in general: by the desire - to be better, not in one's own eyes or those of God, but in the - eyes of other people. And very soon this effort again changed - into a desire to be stronger than others: to be more famous, more - important and richer than others. (_Confession._) - -When speaking of Tolstoy's relations with women, it should be borne in -mind that incontinence for young men was then considered so natural -that few of them in his position would have felt any serious qualms of -conscience about such visits to houses of ill-fame as he lets us know -that he began to pay at this time. His brother Dmitry however led a -chaste life, and alternating with gross lapses of conduct, we find Leo -noting down for his own guidance such resolutions as the following: - - To regard the society of women as a necessary unpleasantness of - social life, and to keep away from them as much as possible. - From whom indeed do we get sensuality, effeminacy, frivolity in - everything, and many other vices, if not from women? Whose fault is - it, if not women's, that we lose our innate qualities of boldness, - resolution, reasonableness, justice, etc.? Women are more receptive - than men, therefore in virtuous ages women were better than we; but - in the present depraved and vicious age they are worse than we are. - -During his years at the University, Tolstoy saw much of his brother -Dmitry, of whom he says: - - I remember also at the University that when my elder brother - Dmitry, suddenly in the passionate way natural to him devoted - himself to religion and began to attend all the Church services, - to fast, and to lead a pure and moral life, we all, and even our - elders, unceasingly held him up to ridicule and called him, for - some unknown reason, 'Noah.' I remember that Mousin-Poushkin (then - Curator of Kazan University), when inviting us to a dance at his - house, ironically remonstrated with my brother, who had declined - the invitation, and used the argument that even David danced before - the Ark. I sympathised with these jokes my elders made, and deduced - from them the conclusion that though it is necessary to learn the - catechism and go to church, one must not take such things too - seriously. (_Confession._) - -Again we read of this brother: - - His peculiarities became manifest, and are impressed on my mind - from the time of our life at Kazan. Formerly in Moscow I remember - that he did not fall in love, as Seryozha and I did, and was not - fond of dancing or of military pageants, but studied well and - strenuously.... At Kazan I, who had always imitated Seryozha, began - to grow depraved.... Not only at Kazan, but even earlier, I used - to take pains about my appearance. I tried to be elegant, _comme - il faut_. There was no trace of anything of this kind in Mitenka. - I think he never suffered from the usual vices of youth; he was - always serious thoughtful pure and resolute, though hot-tempered, - and whatever he did, he did to the best of his ability.... He wrote - verses with great facility. I remember how admirably he translated - Schiller's _Der Juengling am Bache_, but he did not devote himself - to this occupation.... He grew up associating little with others, - always--except in his moments of anger--quiet and serious. He was - tall, rather thin, and not very strong, with long, large hands and - round shoulders. I do not know how or by what he was attracted at - so early an age towards a religious life, but it began in the very - first year of his University career. His religious aspirations - naturally directed him to Church life, and he devoted himself to - this with his usual thoroughness. - - In Mitenka there must have existed that valuable characteristic - which I believe my mother to have had, and which I knew in - Nikolenka, but of which I was altogether devoid--complete - indifference to other people's opinion about oneself. Until quite - lately (in old age) I have never been able to divest myself of - concern about people's opinion; but Mitenka was quite free from - this. I never remember on his face that restrained smile which - involuntarily appears when one is being praised. I always remember - his serious quiet sad, sometimes severe, almond-shaped hazel eyes. - Only in our Kazan days did we begin to pay particular attention to - him, and then merely because, while Seryozha and I attached great - importance to what was _comme il faut_--to externalities--he was - careless and untidy, and we condemned him for this. - - We others, especially Seryozha, kept up acquaintance with our - aristocratic comrades and other young men. Mitenka on the contrary - selected out of all the students a piteous-looking, poor, - shabbily dressed youth, Poluboyarinof [which may be translated - Half-noble]--whom a humorous fellow-student of ours called - Polubezobedof [Half-dinnerless]--and consorted only with him, and - with him prepared for the examinations.... We brothers, and even - our aunt, looked down on Mitenka with a certain contempt for his - low tastes and associates; and the same attitude was adopted by our - frivolous comrades. - -After their University days were over, Tolstoy saw little of his -brother Demetrius; so it will be convenient here to sacrifice -chronological sequence and say what more there is to tell of the -latter's life and death. The material is again supplied by Tolstoy's -Reminiscences. - - When we divided up the family property, according to custom the - estate where we lived, Yasnaya Polyana, was given to me. Seryozha, - as a lover of horses and according to his wish, received Pirogovo, - where there was a stud. To Mitenka and Nikolenka were given the - two other estates: to Nikolenka, Nikolsky; to Mitenka, the Kursk - estate, Sher-batchovka. I have kept a note of Mitenka's, showing - how he regarded the possession of serfs. The idea that it is - wrong, and that serfs ought to be liberated, was quite unknown in - our circle in the 'forties. The hereditary possession of serfs - seemed a necessary condition of life, and all that could be done - to prevent its being an evil, was to attend not only to their - material but also to their moral welfare. In this sense Mitenka - wrote very seriously naively and sincerely. Thinking he could not - do otherwise, he, a lad of twenty, when he left the University - took it upon himself to direct the morality of hundreds of peasant - families, and to do this (as Gogol recommended in his _Letters to a - Landowner_) by threats of punishments and by punishments.... But, - besides this duty to his serfs, there was another duty which at - that time it seemed impossible not to fulfil: namely, Military or - Civil service. And Mitenka decided to enter the Civil Service. - -Tolstoy proceeds to tell how his brother, desiring to be useful to his -country, chose legislation as his speciality, and going to Petersburg -astonished the Head of the Department as well as certain aristocratic -acquaintances by asking where he could find a place in which he could -be _useful_. The friend to whom he went for advice, regarded the -service of the State merely as a means of satisfying ambition, and -'such a question had probably never occurred to him before.' Eventually -we find Demetrius returning home discouraged, and taking up some local -work. All this, to some extent, helps us to understand Leo Tolstoy's -sceptical attitude towards the institution of Government, and his -strong belief that men in Government service are solely actuated by -selfish motives. - -Tolstoy continues: - - After we had both left the University, I lost sight of him. I - know he lived the same severe, abstemious life, knowing neither - wine tobacco nor, above all, women, till he was twenty-six, which - was very rare in those days. I know also that he associated with - monks and pilgrims.... I think I was already in the Caucasus when - an extraordinary change took place. He suddenly took to drinking - smoking wasting money and going with women. How it happened I do - not know; I did not see him at the time. I only know that his - seducer was a thoroughly immoral man of very attractive appearance, - the youngest son of Islenyef [an uncle of the lady Leo Tolstoy - subsequently married]. - - In this life Mitenka remained the same serious religious man he - was in everything. He ransomed from the brothel a prostitute named - Masha, who was the first woman he knew, and took her into his - house. But this life did not last long. I believe it was less the - vicious and unhealthy life he led for some months in Moscow, than - his mental struggle and his qualms of conscience, that suddenly - destroyed his powerful organism. He became consumptive, went to - the country, was doctored in the provincial town, and took to his - bed in Orel, where I saw him for the last time just after the - Crimean war. He was in a dreadful state of emaciation: one could - even see how his enormous hand joined on to the two bones of his - lower arm; his face was all eyes, and they were still the same - beautiful serious eyes, with a penetrating expression of inquiry - in them. He was constantly coughing and spitting, but was loth to - die, and reluctant to believe he was dying. Poor pockmarked Masha, - whom he had rescued, was with him and nursed him. In my presence, - at his own wish, a wonder-working icon was brought. I remember the - expression of his face when he prayed to it.... He died a few days - later! - -Students of the didactic writings of Tolstoy's later years will notice -how closely his injunctions to a man to keep to the first woman, -whoever she be, with whom he has had intimate relations, correspond -with the line actually followed by his brother Demetrius. - -When Tolstoy left the University, however, these things were still -unthought of. Let us, before returning to the events of his own life at -that time, notice some books which he read between the ages of fourteen -and twenty-one. They included: - -The Sermon on the Mount from St. Matthew's Gospel, - - Rousseau's _Confession_ and _Emile_, and - Dickens's _David Copperfield_, - -which all had an 'immense' influence on him. - -In another category came works which he says had 'very great' -influence. These were: - - Rousseau's _Nouvelle Heloise_, - Sterne's _Sentimental Journey_, - Poushkin's _Eugene Onegin_, - Schiller's _The Robbers_, - Gogol's _Dead Souls_, - Tourgenef's _A Sportsman's Sketches_, - Drouzhinin's _Polenka Sax_, - Grigorovitch's _Anton Goremyka_, and the chapter _Taman_ from - Lermontof's _A Hero of Our Times_. - -In a third category he mentions some of Gogol's Shorter Stories, and -Prescott's _Conquest of Mexico_, as having had 'great' influence. - -In these works one finds many ideas which have been congenial to -Tolstoy throughout his life, and his adhesion to which has only become -firmer with age. In illustration of this, take a couple of passages -from Dickens which many readers may have passed without much attention, -but which to Tolstoy represented the absolute truth of the matters they -touch on. David Copperfield says of Parliament: - - ...I considered myself reasonably entitled to escape from the - dreary debates. One joyful night, therefore, I noted down the music - of the parliamentary bagpipes for the last time, and I have never - heard it since; though I still recognise the old drone in the - newspapers without any substantial variation (except, perhaps, that - there is more of it) all the livelong session. - -To most Englishmen with memories of Pym and Hampden, or personal -knowledge of the lives of men who have devoted themselves -disinterestedly to public affairs, Parliamentary or local, Dickens's -sneer at Parliament seems but a paradox or a joke; but to Tolstoy, -with his inherited dislike of Government, this testimony from a great -English writer (who had served as a Parliamentary reporter) seemed -irrefutable evidence of the futility of Parliaments. - -Take, again, a passage in which Dickens hits a nail adroitly on the -head: - - Mr. Micawber had a relish in this formal piling up of words, which, - however ludicrously displayed in his case, was, I must say, not - at all peculiar to him. I have observed it, in the course of my - life, in numbers of men. It seems to me to be a general rule. In - the taking of legal oaths, for instance, deponents seem to enjoy - themselves mightily when they come to several grand words in - succession, for the expression of one idea--as, that they utterly - detest, abominate, and abjure, and so forth--and the old anathemas - were made relishing on the same principle. We talk about the - tyranny of words, but we like to tyrannise over them too. We are - fond of having a large superfluous establishment of words to wait - upon us on great occasions; we think it looks important, and sounds - well. As we are not particular about the meaning of our liveries on - State occasions, if they be but fine and numerous enough, so the - meaning or necessity of our words is a secondary consideration, if - there be but a great parade of them. - -No modern writer has ever more carefully eschewed the practice Dickens -here attacks than Tolstoy has done throughout his career. Indeed, he is -far stricter than Dickens in this respect. - -But much more important than the influence of Dickens was that of -Rousseau, of whom Tolstoy once remarked: - - I have read the whole of Rousseau--all his twenty volumes, - including his _Dictionary of Music_. I was more than enthusiastic - about him, I worshipped him. At the age of fifteen I wore a - medallion portrait of him next my body instead of the Orthodox - cross. Many of his pages are so akin to me that it seems to me that - I must have written them myself. - -Another writer who influenced Tolstoy, though to a very much smaller -extent, was Voltaire, of whom he says: - - I also remember that I read Voltaire when I was very young, and his - ridicule (of religion) not only did not shock me, but amused me - very much. - -Everything Tolstoy has done in his life he has done with intensity; and -that this applies to the way in which he read books in his youth, is -shown by the fact that we find him as an old man, in 1898, in _What is -Art?_ according the highest praise to books he had read before he was -twenty-one, or even before he was fourteen. - -It was in the spring of 1847 that Tolstoy, who was not yet nineteen, -returned to his estate of Yasnaya Polyana, to live with his dear Aunty -Tatiana; to 'perfect' himself, to study, to manage his estate, and to -improve the condition of his serfs. The last part of this programme, at -any rate, was not destined to have much success. Though one must never -treat Tolstoy's fiction as strictly autobiographical, yet _A Squire's -Morning_ gives a very fair idea of his own efforts to improve the lot -of his serfs, and of the difficulties and failures he encountered in -the course of that attempt. In that story Prince Nehludof decides to -leave the University and settle in the country, and writes to his aunt: - - As I already wrote you, I found affairs in indescribable disorder. - Wishing to put them right, I discovered that the chief evil is the - truly pitiable, wretched condition of the serfs, and this is an - evil that can only be remedied by work and patience. If you could - but see two of my serfs, David and Ivan, and the life they and - their families lead, I am sure the sight of these two poor wretches - would convince you more than all I can say in explanation of my - intention. - - Is it not my plain and sacred duty to care for the welfare of - these seven hundred people for whom I must account to God? Will it - not be a sin if, following plans of pleasure or ambition, I abandon - them to the caprice of coarse Elders and stewards? And why should - I seek in any other sphere opportunities of being useful and doing - good, when I have before me such a noble brilliant and intimate - duty? - -Not only is this letter just such as Tolstoy himself may have written, -but the difficulties Nehludof encounters when he tries to move his -peasants from the ruts to which generations of serfdom had accustomed -them, are just those Tolstoy himself met with: the suspicion shown by -the serfs towards any fresh interference on the part of the master, -and the fact that ways to which a community have grown accustomed are -not easily changed by the sudden effort of a well-intentioned but -inexperienced proprietor. - -After spending the summer of 1847 at Yasnaya, Tolstoy went to -Petersburg, where we find him settled in autumn; and early next year he -entered for examination at the University of that city. - - -1848 - -On the 13th of the following February he wrote to his brother Sergius: - - I write you this letter from Petersburg, where I intend to remain - _for ever_.... I have decided to stay here for my examinations and - then to enter the service.... - - In brief, I must say that Petersburg life has a great and food - influence on me: it accustoms me to activity and supplies the place - of a fixed table of occupations. Somehow one cannot be idle; every - one is occupied and active; one cannot find a man with whom one - could lead an aimless life, and one can't do it alone.... - - I know you will not believe that I have changed, but will say, - 'It's already the twentieth time, and nothing comes of you--the - emptiest of fellows.' No, I have now altered in quite a new way. I - used to say to myself: 'Now I will change,' but at last I see that - I _have_ changed, and I say, 'I have changed.' - - Above all, I am now quite convinced that one cannot live by - theorising and philosophising, but must live positively, _i.e._ - must be a practical man. That is a great step in advance and a - great change; it never happened to me before. If one is young and - wishes to live, there is no place in Russia but Petersburg for - it.... - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY IN 1848, AFTER HE HAD LEFT THE UNIVERSITY.] - -On the 1st of May he wrote again to his brother, in a very different -strain: - - Seryozha! I think you already say I am 'the emptiest of fellows,' - and it is true. God knows what I have done! I came to Petersburg - without any reason, and have done nothing useful here, but have - spent heaps of money and got into debt. Stupid! Insufferably - stupid! You can't believe how it torments me. Above all, the - _debts_, which I _must_ pay _as soon as possible_, because if I - don't pay them soon, besides losing the money, I shall lose my - reputation.... I know you will cry out; but what's to be done? - One commits such folly once in a lifetime. I have had to pay for - my freedom (there was no one to thrash me, that was my chief - misfortune) and for philosophising, and now I have paid for it. - Be so kind as to arrange to get me out of this false and horrid - position--penniless and in debt all round. - -He goes on to mention that he had passed two examinations at the -University, but that he had altered his mind, and now, instead of -completing his examinations, wanted to 'enter the Horse Guards as a -Junker.' (A Junker was a young man who volunteered for the army as a -Cadet. Before receiving a commission, a Junker lived with the officers, -while preparing to become one of them.) - - God willing, I will amend and become a steady man at last, I - hope much from my service as a Junker, which will train me to - practical life, and _nolens-volens_ I shall have to earn the rank - of officer. With luck, _i.e._ if the Guards go into action, I may - get a commission even before the usual two years are up. The Guards - start for the front at the end of May. At present I can do nothing: - first, because I have no money (of which I shall not need much, - I fancy), and secondly, because my two birth-certificates are at - Yasnaya. Have them sent on as soon as possible. - -Before long, Tolstoy was again writing to his brother: - - In my last letter I wrote much nonsense, of which the chief item - was that I intended to enter the Horse Guards; I shall act on that - plan only in case I fail in my examinations, and if the war is a - serious one. - -The war in question was Russia's share in quelling the Hungarian -rebellion of 1849. Not a thought of the justice or otherwise of the -cause seems at that time to have crossed the mind of him who in later -life became so powerful an indicter of war. - -This is Tolstoy's own summary, written many years later, of the period -we are now dealing with: - - It was very pleasant living in the country with Aunty Tatiana, but - an indefinite thirst for knowledge drew me away to a distance. - This was in 1848, and I was still uncertain what to undertake. In - Petersburg two roads were open to me. I could either enter the - army, to take part in the Hungarian campaign, or I could complete - my studies at the University, to enter the Civil Service. My - thirst for knowledge conquered my ambition, and I again began to - study. I even passed two examinations in Law, but then all my good - resolutions broke down. Spring came, and the charm of country life - again drew me back to my estate. - -Of the two examinations he passed at this time he says: - - In 1848 I went to pass the examinations for my degree at Petersburg - University, knowing literally nothing, and reading up during only - one week. I worked day and night; and passed with Honours in Civil - and Criminal Law. - -But in spite of this success he did not take the remaining -examinations, and returned to Yasnaya without having obtained a -degree--finally abandoning the attempt to do so. - -In later times, when Tolstoy's reputation was world-wide, critics -often amused themselves by detecting inconsistencies in his conduct -and questioning his sincerity. But the proof of his sincerity is writ -large in the story of his life. Time after time, from the earliest -pages of his Diary, we find him vehemently resolving never more to do -certain things, but always to do other things, and again and again -confessing in the greatest tribulation, that he had failed to carry -out his intentions; yet in spite of everything he returns, and again -returns, to his earliest ideals and gradually shapes his life into -accord with them, and eventually forms habits which, when he first -extolled them, appeared utterly beyond his reach. Not insincerity -but impetuosity, retrieved by extraordinary tenacity of purpose, has -always characterised him. It was the same with his thirst for knowledge -as with his yet deeper thirst after righteousness. Often as he was -swayed by the lures of life, each of those two great desires found its -satisfaction at last. - -The letters quoted above show some consciousness of the fact that there -is a practical side to life not to be mastered by theorising; but the -duty of learning by experience as well as by ratiocination is one -Tolstoy has very seldom dwelt on, and never, I think, realised at all -fully. - -Another characteristic matter alluded to in these letters is the -difficulty he found himself in for lack of his birth-certificates -and other papers. Russia has long suffered from a superabundance of -red tape, which contrasts strongly with the slipshod habits of its -people, and promotes the hatred of officialism that is there so common. -The fact that Tolstoy has on several occasions been put to great -inconvenience for lack of certificates, which it was not in his nature -methodically to keep in readiness, is a small matter, but it has -probably had its share in increasing his strong dislike of governments. - -From Petersburg he brought back with him to Yasnaya a gifted but -drunken German musician named Rudolph, with whom he had chanced to make -acquaintance, and whose talent he had discerned. For some time Tolstoy -devoted himself passionately to music, acquiring sufficient skill on -the piano to become an excellent and sympathetic accompanist. He was -always very susceptible to the influence of music, and in music, as in -literature, he had strong sympathies and antipathies. Rudolph supplies -the principal figure in Tolstoy's story _Albert_, written several years -later. - -Aunt Tatiana, who had played the piano excellently in youth, but had -quite given it up for nearly thirty years, and who was now fifty-three -years of age, resumed its practice and, Tolstoy tells us, played duets -with him, and often surprised him by the accuracy and beauty of her -execution. - -For the next three years he lived partly at Yasnaya and partly in -Moscow, and led a life alternating between the asceticism of his -brother Demetrius and the self-indulgence of his brother Sergius; -with dissipation, hunting, gambling, and the society of gipsy-girl -singers. These were among the wildest and most wasted years of his -life; but even here we find him, in the summer of 1850, resuming his -Diary with penitence and self-reproach, and drawing up a time-table of -how his days are in future to be spent: estate management, bathing, -diary-writing, music, dinner, rest, reading, bathing, and again estate -business to close the day. This curriculum was, however, neglected. -Gusts of passion again swept away his good resolutions. - - -1849 - -At this time he made his first attempt to start a school for the -peasant children of Yasnaya; but it was closed again two years later -when he was in pecuniary difficulties; and it was not till 1862 that -he discovered that he had infringed the law by opening it without -official permission. - -In relation to women, Tolstoy's ideal was a regular and affectionate -family life. Women were for him divided into two groups: those sacred -ones who could be looked on as possible wives or sisters, and those -who, like the gipsy singers, could be paid for and possessed for short -periods. To try to wipe out by a money payment any obligation arising -from intimate relations, seems to have been his fixed rule. His animal -passions were very strong, and late in life I have heard him say that -neither drinking, cards, smoking, nor any other bad habit, had been -nearly so hard for him to overcome as his desire for women. But he -never doubted that that desire was a bad one. To judge him fairly, it -must be remembered how loose was the general tone of the society in -which he lived, and that the advice given him at this critical time of -his life by those who were his natural guides, was not that he should -live a chaste life, but that he should attach himself to a woman of -good social position. In his _Confession_ he tells us: - - The kind aunt with whom I lived, herself the purest of beings, - always told me that there was nothing she so desired for me as - that I should have relations with a married woman: '_Rien ne forme - un jeune homme, comme une liaison avec une femme comme il faut_' - [Nothing so forms a young man, as an intimacy with a woman of - good breeding]. Another happiness she desired for me was that I - should become an aide-de-camp, and if possible aide-de-camp to the - Emperor. But the greatest happiness of all would be that I should - marry a very rich girl and become possessed of as many serfs as - possible. - -We never find Tolstoy involved in any family scandal, or called on to -fight a duel about women; but his Diary at this period contains many -traces of his struggles and his falls; as when he writes: - - Men whom I consider morally lower than myself, do evil better - than I.... I live an animal life, though not quite debauched. My - occupations are almost all abandoned, and I am greatly depressed in - spirit. - -His pecuniary affairs became disordered, owing to his gambling and -other bad habits, and towards the end of 1850 he thought of trying to -earn money by taking on a contract to run the post-station at Toula, -which before railways were built was an undertaking of some importance. -Varied however as Tolstoy's abilities unquestionably are, Nature never -intended him to be a man of business, and this plan fortunately came to -nothing. - - -1850-1851 - -The winter of 1850-51 he passed for the most part in Moscow, and as -a foretaste of the simplification of life which was to be such a -prominent feature of his later years, we find him writing to his aunt -at Yasnaya: '_Je dine a la maison avec des stchi et kasha dont je me -contente parfaitement_' [I dine at home on cabbage soup and buckwheat -porridge, with which I am quite contented]; and he goes on to say that -he only awaits the preserves and home-made liqueurs (which she no doubt -sent him) to have everything as he was accustomed to have it in the -country. - -We find Aunty Tatiana warning him against card-playing. Tolstoy replies -in French: - - [3]Tout ce que vous me dites au sujet de la perversite du jeu est - tres vrai et me revient souvent a l'esprit. C'est pourquoi je crois - que je ne jouerai plus.... 'Je crois,' mais j'espere bientot vous - dire pour sur. - - [3] All that you say about the perversity of play is very - true, and I often think about it, and that is why I believe - that I shall gamble no more.... 'I believe,' but I hope soon - to tell you for certain. - - -1851 - -In March 1851 he returned to Moscow after visiting Yasnaya, and he -notes in his Diary that he went there with the treble aim of playing -cards, getting married, and entering the Civil Service. Not one of -these three objects was attained. He took an aversion to cards. For -marriage he considered a conjunction of love, reason, and fate to be -necessary, and none of these was present. As to entering the service, -it was again the fact that he had not brought the necessary documents -with him that barred the way. - -In March he writes to Aunty Tatiana and says he believes it to be true -that spring brings a moral renovation. It always does him good, and he -is able to maintain his good intentions for some months. Winter is the -season that causes him to go wrong. - -Next came a period of religious humility: he fasted diligently and -composed a sermon, which of course was never preached. He also tried -unsuccessfully to write a gipsy story and an imitation of Sterne's -_Sentimental Journey_. - -This period of his life was brought to a close by the return from the -Caucasus, on leave of absence, of his eldest brother Nicholas, who was -by this time an artillery officer. - -Anxious to economise and pay off the debts he had contracted at cards, -especially one of Rs. 4000 to Ogaryof, a gendarme officer, who owned -a small estate not far from Yasnaya, Leo resolved to accompany his -brother on the latter's return to the Caucasus. He entrusted his estate -to the care of his brother-in-law (Mary's husband), who was to pay his -debts and allow him only Rs. 500 (then equal to about L80) a year to -live on, and he gave his word not to play cards any more. - -Tolstoy had another reason for wishing to escape from his accustomed -surroundings. His brother Sergius was very fond of the gipsy choirs, -famous in Russia for their musical talent. These choirs used to visit -Yasnaya, and Leo Tolstoy, who shared his brother's susceptibility to -the fascinations of the gipsy girls, saw a means of safety in flight to -the Caucasus. - -Before closing this chapter, let us note the extraordinary freedom -enjoyed by young men of Tolstoy's class in those days of serfdom. -Economically, serfdom supplied them with means, at the expense of a -class deprived of almost all rights and absolutely dependent on their -owners. Even if a member of the aristocracy ruined himself, family -interest or a prudent marriage often retrieved the position for -him. Religious restraint counted for little, for side by side with -superstition, scepticism was common among the educated. The standard -of morals expected of a young man was elastic and ill-defined. No -irksome sense of public duty pressed on his attention. Politics, in -our sense of the word, were forbidden; and though he had to enter the -State service (civil or military), this was regarded either as a way of -making a career for himself, or as a mere formality. - -The detachment from the real business of life in which young Russians -grew up, and the comparative isolation in which they lived on their -country estates, explain the extremely radical conclusions often -arrived at by those of them who wished to make the world better. Chain -a man to the heavily laden car of social progress, and he can only -advance very slowly, though any advance he does accomplish represents -much effort and is of practical importance. Detach him from that car, -and he may easily and pleasantly fly away on the winds of speculation -to the uttermost realm of the highest heaven, without its producing -any immediately perceptible result on the lives of his fellow-men. -What I mean is, that the less a man is involved in practical work, the -easier and pleasanter it is for him to take up extreme positions; I -do not mean to deny that activity in the realm of thought and feeling -exerts an unseen yet potent influence on other minds, and ultimately on -practical affairs. - -A knowledge of the social surroundings in which Tolstoy grew up makes -it easier to understand the doctrines he subsequently taught. It was -partly because he grew up in a detached and irresponsible position that -the state of his own mind and soul were to him so much more important -than the immediate effect of his conduct on others, and the same cause -led him to remain in ignorance of lessons every intelligent man of -business among us learns of necessity. - -His independent position made easier the formation of that state of -mind free from intellectual prejudice which enabled him later on to -examine the claims of the Church, of the Bible, of the economists, of -governments, and the most firmly established manners and customs of -society, untrammelled by the fear of shocking or hurting other people, -though all the time his feelings were so sensitive that it has never -been possible for him to doubt or question the goodness of those lines -of conduct which he had admired and approved when in childhood he saw -them practised by those near and dear to him. - -Contrasting his moral attitude with that of a young Englishman anxious -to do right in our day, I should say that Tolstoy had no adequate sense -of being a responsible member of a complex community with the opinions -and wishes of which it is necessary to reckon. On the contrary, his -tendency was to recognise with extraordinary vividness a personal duty -revealed by the working of his own conscience and intellect apart from -any systematic study of the social state of which he was a member. - -He thus came to see things in a way we do not see them, while he -remained blind to some things with which we are quite familiar. That is -one reason why he is so extraordinarily interesting: he puts things in -a way no Englishman would ever dream of putting them, and yet we feel -how near akin we of the Western twentieth-century world are to this -nineteenth-century Russian noble, who has so much in common with the -medieval saint and the Oriental fatalist; and this helps us to realise -that all nations and classes of men are, indeed, of one blood. - -Later on, in the sequel to this work, when we have to deal with -Tolstoy's peaceful anarchism and his conviction that no external -regulation of society is necessary, but that all men would naturally -do right were they not hampered by man-made laws, it will be useful to -bear in mind that his own strength grew through having to steer unaided -through the stormy seas of passion, and from finding his own way to a -haven the lights of which had first shone on him in childhood. Like the -rest of mankind, he judges others by himself. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER II - -Birukof. - -Behrs. - -_Novy Mir._ - -_Education and Instruction_, and _On the Education of the People_, in -vol. iv. of Tolstoy's collected works: Moscow, 1903. - -_Confession._ Published by the _Svobodnoe Slovo_, Christchurch, 1901. - -Prof. Zagoskin, _Stoudentcheskie gody gr. Tolstogo_, in _Istoritchesky -Vestnik_: January 1894. - -V. N. Nazaryef, _Zhizn i ludi bylogo vremeni_, in _Istoritchesky -Vestnik_: November 1900. - -Tolstoy's talk with Pogodin, quoted in Mihaylovsky's _Literary -Recollections_: Petersburg, 1900. - -_L. N. Tolstoy._ By E. Solovef: Petersburg, 1897. - -Light is also thrown on this period by Tolstoy's _Childhood_, -_Boyhood_, and _Youth_, _The Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_, _Two -Hussars_, _A Squire's Morning_, and _Albert_ (which, however, are not -autobiographies), as well as by stories included in Tolstoy's Readers -for School-children--_The Old Horse_ and _How I Learned to Ride_. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE CAUCASUS - -Journey. Russian Conquest. Letters to Aunt Tatiana. Diary. Cossacks. He -volunteers. Enters army. Hadji Mourat. Story of a gaming debt. Sado. -Dreams for the future. _Childhood._ Shooting. Boulka. Slow promotion. -_The Raid._ The Censor. Danger. Applies for discharge. Applies to -Gortchakof. _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker._ Receives his commission. -His retrospect. - - -1851 - -THE brothers Nicholas and Leo left Yasnaya Polyana on 20th April -1851, and spent a couple of weeks in Moscow. The frankness of Leo's -intercourse with his Aunt Tatiana is illustrated by the following -letter which he wrote, telling her of a visit he paid to Sokolniki, a -pleasant outskirt of Moscow on the borders of a pine forest, where a -fete is held on May-day. - -That he wrote in French is explained by the fact that Tatiana, like -many Russian ladies educated early in the nineteenth century, knew -French better than she did Russian. - - [4]J'ai ete a la promenade de Sokolniki par un temps detestable, - c'est pourquoi je n'ai rencontre personne des dames de la - societe, que j'avais envie de voir. Comme vous pretendez que je - suis un homme a epreuves, je suis alle parmi les plebs, dans les - tentes bohemiennes. Vous pouvez aisement vous figurer le combat - interieur qui s'engagea la-bas pour et contre. Au reste j'en sortis - victorieux, c.a d. n'ayant rien donne que ma benediction aux joyeux - descendants des illustres Pharaons. Nicolas trouve que je suis un - compagnon de voyage tres agreable, si ce n'etait ma proprete. Il se - fache de ce que, comme il le dit, je change de linge 12 fois par - jour. Moi je le trouve aussi compagnon tres agreable, si ce n'etait - sa salete. Je ne sais lequel de nous a raison. - - [4] I went to the fete at Sokolniki in detestable weather, - which was why I did not meet any of the society ladies I - wished to see. As you say I am a man who tests himself, I went - among the plebs in the gipsy tents. You can easily imagine the - inward struggle I there experienced, for and against. However, - I came out victorious: that is to say, having given nothing - but my blessing to the gay descendants of the illustrious - Pharaohs. Nicholas considers me a very agreeable travelling - companion, except for my cleanliness. He is cross because he - says I change my linen 12 times a day. I also find him a very - agreeable companion, except for his dirtiness. I do not know - which of us is right. - -On leaving Moscow, instead of travelling to the Caucasus by the usual -route _via_ Voronesh, Nicholas Tolstoy, who liked to do things his own -way, decided that they would drive first to Kazan. Here they stayed a -week, visiting acquaintances, and that was long enough for Leo to fall -in love with a young lady to whom his shyness prevented his expressing -his sentiments. He left for the Caucasus bearing his secret with him, -and we hear no more of the matter. - -From Kazan they drove to Saratof, where they hired a boat large enough -to take their travelling carriage on board, and with a crew of three -men, made their way down the Volga to Astrakhan, sometimes rowing, -sometimes sailing, and sometimes drifting with the stream. - -The scorn of luxury and social distinctions so prominent in Tolstoy's -later philosophy, was at this period more to the taste of his brother -Nicholas. A gentleman drove past them in Kazan leaning on his -walking-stick with ungloved hands, and that was sufficient to cause Leo -to speak of him contemptuously, whereupon Nicholas, in his usual tone -of good-natured irony, wanted to know why a man should be despised for -not wearing gloves. - -From Astrakhan they had still to drive some two hundred and seventy -miles to reach Starogladovsk, where Nicholas Tolstoy's battery was -stationed. The whole journey from Moscow, including the stay in Kazan, -took nearly a month. - -It may be convenient here to explain why the Russians were then -fighting in the Caucasus. Georgia, situated to the south of the -Caucasian Mountains, had been voluntarily annexed to Russia in 1799 to -escape the oppression of Persia; and it therefore became politically -desirable for Russia to subdue the tribes that separated her from her -newly acquired dependency. During the first half of the nineteenth -century this task proceeded very slowly, but at the time we are -speaking of, Prince Baryatinsky, in command of the Russian forces -stationed on the left bank of the river Terek, which flows into the -Caspian Sea, was undertaking a series of expeditions against the -hostile native tribes. Up to that time the Russians had held hardly -anything south of the Terek and north of the Caucasian Mountains, -except their own forts and encampments; but in less than another -decade, Baryatinsky had captured Shamyl (the famous leader who so long -defied Russia) and had subdued the whole country. - -Soon after the brothers Tolstoy arrived at Starogladovsk, Nicholas was -ordered to the fortified camp at Goryatchevodsk ('Hot Springs'), an -advanced post recently established to protect the invalids who availed -themselves of those mineral waters. - -Here Leo Tolstoy first saw, and was deeply impressed by, the beauty of -the magnificent mountain range which he has so well described in _The -Cossacks_. In July 1851 he wrote to his Aunt Tatiana: - - [5]Nicolas est parti dans une semaine apres son arrivee, et moi je - l'y suivis, de sorte que nous sommes presque depuis trois semaines - ici ou nous logeons dans une tente. Mais comme le temps est beau et - que je me fais un peu a ce genre de vie, je me trouve tres bien. - Ici il y a des coups d'oeil magnifiques, a commencer par l'endroit - ou sont les sources. C'est une enorme montagne de pierres l'une sur - l'autre, dont les unes se sont detachees et forment des especes de - grottes, les autres restent suspendues a une grande hauteur. Elles - sont toutes coupees par les courants d'eau chaude, qui tombent avec - bruit dans quelques endroits et couvrent surtout le matin toute la - partie elevee de la montagne d'une vapeur blanche qui se detache - continuellement de cette eau bouillante. L'eau est tellement chaude - qu'on cuit dedans les oeufs _hard_ en trois minutes. Au milieu - de ce ravin sur le torrent principal il y a trois moulins, l'un - au-dessus de l'autre, qui sont construits d'une maniere toute - particuliere et tres pittoresque. Toute la journee les femmes - tartares ne cessent de venir au-dessus et au-dessous de ces moulins - pour laver leur linge. II faut vous dire qu'elles lavent avec les - pieds. C'est comme une fourmiliere toujours remuante. Les femmes - sont pour la plupart belles et bien faites. Les costumes des - femmes orientales malgre leur pauvrete, sont gracieux. Les groupes - pittoresques que forment les femmes, joint a la beaute sauvage de - l'endroit fait un coup d'oeil veritablement admirable. Je reste - tres souvent des heures a admirer ce paysage. Puis le coup d'oeil - du haut de la montagne est encore plus beau et tout a fait dans un - autre genre. Mais je crains de vous ennuyer avec mes descriptions. - - Je suis tres content d'etre aux eaux puisque j'en profite. Je - prends des bains ferrugineux et je ne sens plus de douleur aux - pieds. - - [5] Nicholas left within a week of his arrival and I have - followed him, so that we have now been almost three weeks - here, lodging in a tent But as the weather is fine and I am - getting accustomed to this kind of life, I feel very well. - There are magnificent views here, beginning where the springs - are situated. It is an enormous mountain of rocks one upon - another, some of which are detached and form, as it were, - grottoes; others remain suspended at a great height. They are - all intersected by torrents of hot water which fall noisily in - certain parts and, especially in the morning, cover the whole - upper part of the mountain with a white vapour which this - boiling water continually gives off. The water is so hot that - one can boil eggs hard in three minutes. In the middle of this - ravine, by the chief torrent, stand three mills one above the - other, built in a quite peculiar and very picturesque manner. - All day long, above and below these mills, Tartar women come - unceasingly to wash clothes. I should mention that they wash - with their feet. It is like an ant-hill, always in motion. - The women, for the most part, are beautiful and well formed. - In spite of their poverty the costumes of Oriental women are - graceful. The picturesque groups formed by the women, added - to the savage beauty of the place, furnish a really admirable - _coup d'oeil_. I very often remain for hours admiring the - view. Then again, in quite a different way, the view from the - top of the mountain is even more beautiful. But I fear to - weary you with my descriptions. - - I am very glad to be at the springs, for I benefit by them. I - take ferruginous baths, and no longer have pain in my feet. - -As showing how hot these springs were, it may be mentioned that a dog -belonging to Nicholas tumbled into the water and was scalded to death. - -The officers Tolstoy met, he found to be men without education, and he -wrote: 'At first many things in this society shocked me, but I have -accustomed myself to them, without however attaching myself to these -gentlemen. I have found a happy mean, in which there is neither pride -nor familiarity.' He was helped by the fact that Nicholas was popular -with every one; and, by adopting the plan of having vodka, wine, and -something to eat always ready for those who dropped in to see him, he -succeeded in keeping on good terms with these men, though he did not -care to know them intimately. - -The following extract from his Diary preserves the record of the -rapidly changing moods he experienced in those days. Soon after -reaching the Caucasus he noted: - - STARY URT, _11th June 1851_. - - Yesterday I hardly slept all night. Having posted up my Diary, I - prayed to God. It is impossible to convey the sweetness of the - feeling I experienced during my prayer. I said the prayers I - usually repeat by heart: 'Our Father,' 'To the Virgin,' etc., and - still remained in prayer. If one defines prayer as a petition or as - thanksgiving, then I did not pray. I desired something supreme and - good; but what, I cannot express, though I was clearly conscious - of what I wanted. I wished to merge into the Universal Being. I - asked Him to pardon my crimes; yet no, I did not ask that, for I - felt that if He had given me this blissful moment, He had pardoned - me. I asked, and at the same time felt that I had nothing to ask, - and that I cannot and do not know how to ask; I thanked Him, but - not with words or thoughts. I combined in one feeling both petition - and gratitude. Fear quite vanished. I could not have separated any - one emotion--faith, hope or love--from the general feeling. No, - this was what I experienced yesterday: it was love of God, lofty - love, uniting in itself all that is good, excluding all that is - bad. How dreadful it was to me to see the trivial and vicious side - of life! I could not understand its having any attraction for me. - How I asked God with a pure heart to accept me into His bosom! I - did not feel the flesh.... But no, the carnal, trivial side again - asserted itself, and before an hour had passed I almost consciously - heard the voice of vice, vanity, and the empty side of life; I knew - whence that voice came, knew it had ruined my bliss! I struggled - against it, and yet yielded to it. I fell asleep thinking of fame - and of women; but it was not my fault, I could not help it. - -Again, on 2nd July, after writing down reflections on suffering and -death, he concludes: - - How strong I seem to myself to be against all that can happen; - how firm in the conviction that one must expect nothing here but - death; yet a moment later I am thinking with pleasure of a saddle - I have ordered, on which I shall ride dressed in a Cossack cloak, - and of how I shall carry on with the Cossack girls; and I fall into - despair because my left moustache is higher than my right, and for - two hours I straighten it out before the looking-glass. - -By August he was back again at Starogladovsk, and, full of energy, -risked his life as a volunteer in expeditions against the Circassians. -Having met Ilya Tolstoy, an officer and a relation, he was introduced -by him to the Commander-in-Chief, General Baryatinsky. The latter had -noticed Leo Tolstoy during one of the expeditions, and on making his -acquaintance complimented him on his bravery and advised him to enter -the army. Ilya Tolstoy urged the same advice, and Leo accepted it. -Towards the end of October he went a tiresome but beautiful seven-days' -journey to Tiflis, where he had to pass the examination qualifying him -to become a Junker (Cadet). From there he wrote to his Aunt Tatiana -a letter containing the first intimation of the vocation that was -ultimately to make him far more famous than Baryatinsky himself: - - [6]Vous rappelez-vous, bonne tante, un conseil que vous m'avez - donne jadis--celui de faire des romans? Eh bien! je suis votre - conseil et les occupations dont je vous parle consistent a faire - de la litterature. Je ne sais si ce que j'ecris paraitra jamais - dans le monde, mais c'est un travail qui m'amuse et dans lequel je - persevere depuis trop longtemps pour l'abandonner. - - [6] Do you remember, dear Aunt, the advice you once gave - me--to write novels? Well, I am following your advice, and - the occupation I mentioned to you consists in producing - literature. I do not know if what I am writing will ever be - published, but it is work that amuses me, and in which I have - persevered too long to abandon it. - -For two months he lived in the 'German' suburb of Tiflis, paying Rs. 5 -a month (at that time equal to about 16s.) for his two-roomed lodging; -disturbed by no one, writing _Childhood_, and trying to enter the -army--the main obstacle to which was that, as usual, he found himself -without his birth-certificate and other documents. He seldom enjoyed -good health for many consecutive months, and during his stay in Tiflis -he was confined to the house for some weeks by illness. At last, on -23rd December 1851, he was able to write to his brother, Sergius, -announcing that in a few days he expected to receive his appointment as -Junker in the 4th battery of artillery, and that on the day he received -it he would set out for Starogladovsk, and from there go on campaign, -and to the best of his ability 'assist, with the aid of a cannon, in -destroying the predatory and turbulent Asiatics.' He goes on to tell of -hunting. He had been out nine times, and had killed two foxes and about -sixty grey hares. He had also hunted wild boar and deer, but had not -killed any. - -In the same letter Tolstoy mentions Hadji Mourat, the hero of a tale -he wrote more than fifty years later, and that has been put aside for -posthumous publication. He says: 'If you wish to show off with news -from the Caucasus, you may recount that a certain Hadji Mourat (the -second in importance to Shamyl himself) surrendered a few days ago to -the Russian Government. He was the leading dare-devil and "brave" in -all Circassia, but was led to commit a mean action.' - - -1852 - -A little later, on 6th January 1852, we find him again in Tiflis, -writing to Aunt Tatiana. - - [7]Je viens de recevoir votre lettre du 24 Novembre et je vous - y reponds le moment meme (comme j'en ai pris l'habitude). - Dernierement je vous ecrivais que votre lettre m'a fait pleurer et - j'accusai ma maladie de cette faiblesse. J'ai eu tort. Toutes vos - lettres me font depuis quelque temps le meme effet. J'ai toujours - ete _Lyova-ryova_ [Leo, Cry-baby]. Avant cette faiblesse me faisait - honte, mais les larmes que je verse en pensant a vous et a votre - amour pour nous, sont tellement douces que je les laisse couler, - sans aucune fausse-honte. Votre lettre est trop pleine de tristesse - pour qu'elle ne produise pas sur moi le meme effet. C'est vous qui - toujours m'avez donne des conseils et quoique malheureusement je - ne les aie pas suivis quelquefois, je voudrais toute ma vie n'agir - que d'apres vos avis. Permettez-moi pour le moment de vous dire - l'effet qu'a produit sur moi votre lettre et les idees qui me sont - venues en la lisant. Si je vous parle trop franchement je sais que - vous me le pardonnerez en faveur de l'amour que j'ai pour vous. En - disant que c'est votre tour de nous quitter pour aller rejoindre - ceux qui ne sont plus et que vous avez tant aimes, en disant que - vous demandez a Dieu de mettre un terme a votre existence qui vous - semble si insupportable et isolee,--pardon, chere tante, mais il - me parait qu'en disant cela vous offensez Dieu et moi et nous tous - qui vous aimons tant. Vous demandez a Dieu la mort, c. a dire le - plus grand malheur qui puisse m'arriver (ce n'est pas une phrase, - mais Dieu m'est temoin que les deux plus grands malheurs qui - puissent m'arriver ce serait votre mort ou celle de Nicolas--les - deux personnes que j'aime plus que moi-meme). Que resterait-il - pour moi si Dieu exaucait votre priere? Pour faire plaisir a qui, - voudrais-je devenir meilleur, avoir de bonnes qualites, avoir une - bonne reputation dans le monde? Quand je fais des plans de bonheur - pour moi, l'idee que vous partagerez et jouirez de mon bonheur - m'est toujours presente. Quand je fais quelque chose de bon, je - suis content de moi-meme, parce que je sais que vous serez contente - de moi. Quand j'agis mal, ce que je crains le plus--c'est de vous - faire du chagrin. Votre amour est tout pour moi, et vous demandez - a Dieu qu'il nous separe! Je ne puis vous dire le sentiment que - j'ai pour vous, la parole ne suffit pas pour vous l'exprimer et je - crains que vous ne pensiez que j'exagere et cependant je pleure a - chaudes larmes en vous ecrivant. - - [7] I have just received your letter of 24 November, and I - reply at once (as I have formed the habit of doing). I wrote - you lately that your letter made me cry, and I blamed my - illness for that weakness. I was wrong. For some time past all - your letters have had the same effect on me. I always was Leo - Cry-baby. Formerly I was ashamed of this weakness, but the - tears I shed when thinking of you, and of your love for us, - are so sweet that I let them flow without any false shame. - Your letter is too full of sadness not to produce the same - effect on me. It is you who have always given me counsel, and - though unfortunately I have not always followed it, I should - wish all my life to act only in accord with your advice. For - the moment, permit me to tell you the effect your letter has - had on me, and the thoughts that have come to me while reading - it. If I speak too freely, I know you will forgive it, on - account of the love I have for you. By saying that it is your - turn to leave us, to rejoin those who are no more and whom - you have loved so much, by saying that you ask God to set a - limit to your life which seems to you so insupportable and - isolated--pardon me, dear Aunt, but it seems to me that in so - saying you offend God and me and all of us who love you so - much. You ask God for death, that is to say, for the greatest - misfortune that can happen to me. (This is not a phrase, for - God is my witness that the two greatest misfortunes that could - come to me would be your death and that of Nicholas--the two - persons whom I love more than myself.) What would be left to - me if God granted your prayer? To please whom should I then - wish to become better, to have good qualities and a good - reputation in the world? When I make plans of happiness for - myself, the idea that you will share and enjoy my happiness is - always present. When I do anything good, I am satisfied with - myself because I know you will be satisfied with me. When I - act badly, what I most fear is to cause you grief. Your love - is everything to me, and you ask God to separate us! I cannot - tell you what I feel for you; words do not suffice to express - it. I fear lest you should think I exaggerate, and yet I shed - hot tears while writing to you. - -In the same letter he tells of one of those remarkable 'answers to -prayer,' instances of thought-transference, or (if the reader pleases) -simply coincidences, which have played so great a part in the history -of all religious bodies. - - [8]Aujourd'hui il m'est arrive une de ces choses qui m'auraient - fait croire en Dieu, si je n'y croyais deja fermement depuis - quelque temps. - - L'ete a Stary Urt tous les officiers qui y etaient ne faisaient que - jouer et assez gros jeu. Comme en vivant au camp il est impossible - de ne pas se voir souvent, j'ai tres souvent assiste au jeu et - malgre les instances qu'on me faisait j'ai tenu bon pendant un - mois; mais un beau jour en plaisantant, j'ai mis un petit enjeu, - j'ai perdu, j'ai recommence, j'ai encore perdu, la chance en etait - mauvaise, la passion du jeu s'est reveillee et en deux jours j'ai - perdu tout ce que j'avais d'argent et celui que Nicolas m'a donne - (a peu pres 250 r. argent) et par dessus cela encore 500 r. argent - pour lequel j'ai donne une lettre de change payable au mois de - Janvier 1852. - - Il faut vous dire que pres du camp il y a un _Aoul_ qu'habitent - les Tchitcheniens. Un jeune garcon (Tchitchenien) Sado venait au - camp et jouait, mais comme il ne savait pas compter et inscrire - il y avait des chenapans qui le trichaient. Je n'ai jamais voulu - jouer pour cette raison contre Sado, et meme je lui ai dit qu'il - ne fallait pas qu'il jouat, parce qu'on le trompait et je me - suis propose de jouer pour lui par procuration. Il m'a ete tres - reconnaissant pour ceci et m'a fait cadeau d'une bourse. Comme - c'est l'usage de cette nation de se faire des cadeaux mutuels, je - lui ai donne un miserable fusil que j'avais achete pour 8 rb. Il - faut vous dire que pour devenir _Kounak_, ce qui veut dire ami, - il est d'usage de se faire des cadeaux, et puis de manger dans - la maison du _Kounak_. Apres cela, d'apres l'ancien usage de ces - peuples (qui n'existe presque plus que par tradition) on devient - ami a la vie et a la mort, c.a d. que si je lui demande tout son - argent, ou sa femme, ou ses armes, ou tout ce qu'il a de plus - precieux, il doit me les donner, et moi aussi je ne dois rien lui - refuser. Sado m'a engage de venir chez lui et d'etre _Kounak_. - J'y suis alle. Apres m'avoir regale a leur maniere, il m'a propose - de choisir dans sa maison tout ce que je voudrais--ses armes, son - cheval ... tout. J'ai voulu choisir ce qu'il y avait de moins cher - et j'ai pris une bride de cheval montee en argent, mais il m'a dit - que je l'offensais et m'a oblige de prendre une _sword_ qui vaut au - moins 100 r. arg. - - Son pere est un homme assez riche, mais qui a son argent enterre et - ne donne pas le sou a son fils. Le fils pour avoir de l'argent va - voler chez l'ennemi des chevaux, des vaches; quelquefois il expose - 20 fois sa vie pour voler une chose qui ne vaut pas 10 r., mais ce - n'est pas par cupidite qu'il le fait, mais par genre. Le plus grand - voleur est tres estime et on l'appelle '_Dzhigit_,' un _Brave_. - Tantot Sado a 1000 r. arg., tantot pas le sou. Apres une visite - chez lui, je lui ai fait cadeau de la montre d'argent de Nicolas - et nous sommes devenus les plus grands amis du monde. Plusieurs - fois il m'a prouve son devouement en s'exposant a des dangers pour - moi, mais ceci pour lui n'est rien--c'est devenu une habitude et un - plaisir. - - Quand je suis parti de Stary Urt et que Nicolas y est reste, Sado - venait chez lui tous les jours et disait qu'il ne savait que - devenir sans moi et qu'il s'ennuyait terriblement. Par une lettre - je faisais connaitre a Nicolas, que mon cheval etant malade, je - le priais de m'en trouver un a Stary Urt; Sado ayant appris cela - n'eut rien de plus presse que de venir chez moi et de me donner son - cheval, malgre tout ce que j'ai pu faire pour refuser. - - Apres la betise que j'ai fait de jouer a Stary Urt, je n'ai plus - repris les cartes en mains, et je faisais continuellement la morale - a Sado qui a la passion du jeu et quoiqu'il ne connaisse pas le - jeu, a toujours un bonheur etonnant. Hier soir je me suis occupe a - penser a mes affaires pecuniaires, a mes dettes; je pensais comment - je ferais pour les payer. Ayant longtemps pense a ces choses, j'ai - vu que si je ne depense pas trop d'argent, toutes mes dettes ne - m'embarrasseront pas et pourront petit a petit etre payees dans - 2 ou 3 ans; mais les 500 rbs., que je devais payer ce mois, me - mettaient au desespoir. Il m'etait impossible de les payer et pour - le moment ils m'embarrassaient beaucoup plus que ne l'avaient - fait autrefois les 4000 d'Ogaryeff. Cette betise d'avoir fait les - dettes que j'avais en Russie et de venir en faire de nouvelles ici - me mettait au desespoir. Le soir en faisant ma priere, j'ai prie - Dieu qu'il me tire de cette desagreable position et avec beaucoup - de ferveur. 'Mais comment est-ce que je puis me tirer de cette - affaire?' pensai-je en me couchant. 'Il ne peut rien arriver qui me - donne la possibilite d'acquitter cette dette.' Je me representais - deja tous les desagrements que j'avais a essuyer a cause de cela: - how when he presents the note for collection, the authorities will - demand an explanation as to why I did not pay, etc. 'Lord, help - me!' said I, and fell asleep. - - Le lendemain je recois une lettre de Nicolas a laquelle etait - jointe la votre et plusieurs autres--il m'ecrit: - - The other day Sado came to see me. He has won your notes-of-hand - from Knorring, and has brought them to me. He was so pleased to - have won them, and asked me so often, 'What do you think? Will your - brother be glad that I have done this?' that I have grown very fond - of him. That man is really attached to you. - - N'est-ce pas etonnant que de voir ses voeux aussi exauces le - lendemain meme? C. a d., qu'il n'y a rien d'aussi etonnant que la - bonte divine pour un etre qui la merite si peu que moi. Et n'est-ce - pas que le trait de devouement de Sado est admirable? Il sait que - j'ai un frere Serge, qui aime les chevaux et comme je lui ai promis - de le prendre en Russie quand j'y irai, il m'a dit, que dut-il lui - en couter 100 fois la vie, il volera le meilleur cheval qu'il y ait - dans les montagnes, et qu'il le lui amenera. - - Faites, je vous prie, acheter a Toula un _6-barrelled pistol_ et un - _musical-box_, si cela ne coute pas trop cher. Ce sont des choses - qui lui feront beaucoup de plaisir. - - [8] To-day one of those things happened to me which would have - made me believe in God, if I had not for some time past firmly - believed in Him. - - In summer, at Stary Urt, all the officers who were there did - nothing but play, and play rather high. As, living in camp, - one has to meet frequently, I was very often present at play, - but in spite of persuasions I kept steady for a month; but - one fine day for fun I put down a small stake. I lost, staked - again, and lost again. I was in bad luck; the passion for play - reawoke in me, and in two days I had lost all the money I had, - and what Nicholas gave me (about Rs. 250) and another Rs. 500 - besides, for which I gave a note-of-hand payable in January - 1852. - - I should tell you that near the camp there is an Aoul - [native village] inhabited by Circassians. A young fellow (a - Circassian) named Sado used to come to the camp and play; but - as he could neither reckon nor write, there were scamps who - cheated him. For that reason I never wished to play against - Sado, and I even told him that he ought not to play, because - he was being cheated; and I offered to play for him. He was - very grateful to me for this, and presented me with a purse; - and as it is the custom of that nation to exchange presents, I - gave him a wretched gun I had bought for Rs. 8. I should tell - you that to become a _Kounak_, that is to say, a _friend_, - it is customary to exchange presents, and afterwards to eat - in the house of one's _Kounak_. After that, according to the - ancient custom of these peoples (which hardly exists now - except as a tradition) you become friends for life and death: - that is to say, if I asked of him all his money, or his wife, - or his weapons, or all the most precious things he has, he - must give them to me, and I also must not refuse him anything. - Sado made me promise to come to his house and become his - Kounak. I went. After having regaled me in their fashion, he - asked me to choose anything in his house that I liked: his - weapons, his horse--anything. I wished to choose what was of - least value, and took a horse's bridle with silver mountings; - but he said I was offending him, and obliged me to take a - sword worth at least Rs. 100. - - His father is a rather rich man, but keeps his money buried, - and does not give his son a cent. The son, to have money, goes - and steals horses and cows from the enemy. Sometimes he risks - his life 20 times to steal something not worth Rs. 10, but he - does it not from greed, but because it is 'the thing.' The - greatest robber is most esteemed, and is called _Dzhigit_, 'a - _Brave_.' Sometimes Sado has Rs. 1000, sometimes not a cent. - After one visit to him, I gave him Nicholas's silver watch, - and we became the greatest friends in the world. He has proved - his devotion several times by exposing himself to danger for - my sake; but that is nothing to him--it has become a habit and - a pleasure. - - When I left Stary Urt and Nicholas remained there, Sado used - to go to him every day, saying that he did not know how to - get on without me, and that he felt terribly dull. I wrote to - Nicholas saying that as my horse was ill I begged him to find - me one at Stary Urt. Sado having learnt this, must needs come - to me and give me his horse, in spite of all I could do to - refuse it. - - After the folly I committed in playing at Stary Urt, I did not - touch a card again, and I was always lecturing Sado, who is - devoted to gambling and, though he does not know how to play, - always has astonishing luck. Yesterday evening I was engaged - in considering my money matters and my debts, and thinking - how I was to pay them. Having long thought of these things, - I saw that if I do not spend too much, all my debts will not - embarrass me, but can be paid off little by little in 2 or 3 - years; but the Rs. 500 that I had to pay this month, threw me - into despair. It was impossible for me to pay it, and at the - moment it embarrassed me much more than did previously the - 4000 of Ogaryof. The stupidity, after having contracted those - debts in Russia, of coming here and adding fresh ones, made - me despair. In the evening while saying my prayers, I asked - God--and very fervently--to get me out of this disagreeable - scrape. 'But how can I get out of this scrape?' thought I, as - I lay down. 'Nothing can happen that will make it possible for - me to meet that debt.' I already pictured to myself all the - unpleasantnesses I should have to go through because of it. - (See English sentence in the French text, above.) - - Next day I received a letter from Nicholas enclosing yours - and several others. He wrote me: (See English sentence in the - French text, above). - - Is it not astonishing to see one's petitions granted like - this the very next day? That is to say, there is nothing - so wonderful as the divine goodness to one who merits it - so little as I. And is not the trait of Sado's devotion - admirable? He knows I have a brother Sergius, who loves - horses, and as I have promised to take him to Russia when I - go, he tells me that, if it costs him his life 100 times over, - he will steal the best horse to be found in the mountains, and - will take it to him. - - Please, have a 6-barrelled pistol bought in Toula and sent to - me, and also a musical-box, if that does not cost too much. - These are things which will give him much pleasure. - -In explanation of this letter one has to mention that Sado was a -'peaceful' Circassian, that is, one friendly to Russia (though his -tribe in general were hostile), and further, that the passages printed -in English in the midst of the French text, are in the original written -in Russian. - -A few days later we find Tolstoy on his way back to Starogladovsk, -stopping (probably for post-horses) at the post-station Mozdok, and -again writing his aunt a long letter in which he says: - - [9]La religion et l'experience que j'ai de la vie (quelque petite - qu'elle soit) m'ont appris que la vie est une epreuve. Dans moi - elle est plus qu'une epreuve, c'est encore l'expiation de mes - fautes. - - J'ai dans l'idee que l'idee si frivole que j'ai eu d'aller faire - un voyage au Caucase--est une idee qui m'a ete inspiree d'en haut. - C'est la main de Dieu qui m'a guide--je ne cesse de l'en remercier. - Je sens que je suis devenu meilleur ici (et ce n'est pas beaucoup - dire puisque j'ai ete tres mauvais) et je suis fermement persuade - que tout ce qui peut m'arriver ici ne sera que pour mon bien, - puisque c'est Dieu lui-meme qui l'a voulu ainsi. Peut-etre c'est - une idee bien hardie, neanmoins j'ai cette conviction. C'est pour - cela que je supporte les fatigues et les privations physiques dont - je parle (ce ne sont pas des privations physiques--il n'y en a pas - pour un garcon de 23 ans qui se porte bien) sans les ressentir, - meme avec une espece de plaisir en pensant au bonheur qui m'attend. - - Voila comment je le represente: - - Apres un nombre indetermine d'annees, ni jeune, ni vieux, je suis - a Yasnaya; mes affaires sont en ordre, je n'ai pas d'inquietudes, - ni de tracasseries. Vous habitez Yasnaya aussi. Vous avez un peu - vieillie, mais etes encore fraiche et bien portante. Nous menons - la vie que nous avons menee,--je travaille le matin, mais nous - nous voyons presque toute la journee. Nous dinons. Le soir je fais - une lecture qui ne vous ennuie pas, puis nous causons--moi je vous - raconte ma vie au Caucase, vous me parlez de vos souvenirs--de mon - pere, de ma mere, vous me contez des '_terrible tales_' que jadis - nous ecoutions les yeux effrayes et la bouche beante. Nous nous - rappelons les personnes qui nous ont ete cheres et qui ne sont - plus; vous pleurerez, j'en ferai de meme, mais ces larmes seront - douces; nous causerons des freres qui viendront nous voir de temps - en temps, de la chere Marie qui passera aussi quelques mois de - l'annee a Yasnaya qu'elle aime tant, avec tous ses enfants. Nous - n'aurons point de connaissances--personne ne viendra nous ennuyer - et faire des commerages. C'est un beau reve, mais ce n'est pas - encore tout ce que je me permets de rever.--Je suis marie--ma - femme est une personne douce, bonne, aimante; elle a pour vous - le meme amour que moi; nous avons des enfants qui vous appellent - grandmaman; vous habitez la grande maison en haut, la meme chambre - que jadis habitait grandmaman. Toute la maison est dans le meme - ordre qu'elle a ete du temps de papa et nous recommencons la - meme vie, seulement en changeant de role; vous prenez le role de - grandmaman, mais vous etes encore meilleure; moi le role de papa, - mais je desespere de jamais le meriter; ma femme celui de maman, - les enfants le notre; Marie le role des deux tantes, leurs malheurs - exceptes.... Mais il manquera un personnage pour prendre le role - que vous avez joue dans notre famille; jamais il ne se trouvera une - ame aussi belle, aussi aimante que la votre. Vous n'avez pas de - successeur. Il y aura trois nouveaux personnages, qui paraitront - de temps en temps sur la scene--les freres, surtout l'un qui - sera souvent avec nous: Nicolas--vieux garcon, chauve, retire du - service, toujours aussi bon, aussi noble. - - I imagine how he will, as of old, tell the children fairy tales of - his own invention, and how they will kiss his greasy hands (but - which are worthy of it), how he will play with them, how my wife - will bustle about to get him his favourite dishes, how he and I - will recall our common memories of days long past, how you will sit - in your accustomed place and listen to us with pleasure; how, as of - yore, you will call us, old men, 'Lyovotchka' and 'Nikolenka,' and - will scold me for eating with my fingers, and him for not having - clean hands. - - Si on me faisait empereur de Russie, si on me donnait le Perou, - en un mot si une fee venait avec sa baguette me demander ce que - je desire--la main sur la conscience, je repondrais que je desire - seulement que ce reve puisse devenir une realite. - - [9] Religion and the experience I have of life (however small - it may be) have taught me that life is a trial. In my case it - is more than a trial, it is also an expiation of my faults. - - It seems to me that the frivolous idea I had of journeying to - the Caucasus was an idea with which I was inspired from above. - It is the hand of God that has guided me--I do not cease to - thank Him for it. I feel that I have become better here (and - that is not saying much, for I was very bad) and I am firmly - persuaded that all that can happen to me here can only be - for my good, since it is God himself who has so willed it. - Perhaps it is a very audacious notion; nevertheless it is my - conviction. That is why I bear the fatigues and the physical - privations I have mentioned (they are not physical privations: - there are none for a fellow of 23 who is in good health) - without resenting them, and even with a kind of pleasure in - thinking of the happiness that awaits me. - - This is how I picture it: - - After an indefinite number of years, neither young nor old, I - am at Yasnaya; my affairs are in order, I have no anxieties - or worries. You also live at Yasnaya. You have aged a little, - but you are still fresh and in good health. We lead the life - we used to lead. I work in the morning, but we see one another - almost all day. We have dinner. In the evening I read aloud - something which does not weary you, and then we talk. I tell - you of my life in the Caucasus, you tell me your recollections - of my father and my mother; and you tell me the 'terrible - tales' we used to listen to with frightened eyes and open - mouths. We remind each other of those who were dear to us and - who are now no more; you will weep, I shall do the same, but - those tears will be sweet; we shall talk about my brothers, - who will come to see us from time to time; of dear Marie, - who with all her children will also spend some months of the - year at Yasnaya, which she loves so much. We shall have no - acquaintances--no one will come to weary us and carry tales. - It is a beautiful dream, but it is not all that I let myself - dream.--I am married. My wife is a gentle creature, kind and - affectionate; she has the same love for you as I have. We have - children who call you Grandmamma; you live upstairs in the big - house, in what used to be Grandmamma's room. The whole house - is as it was in Papa's time, and we recommence the same life, - only changing our roles. You take the role of Grandmamma, but - you are still better; I take Papa's place, though I despair - of ever deserving it; my wife, that of Mamma; the children - take ours; Marie, that of the two aunts (excepting their - misfortunes) ... but some one will be lacking to take the part - you played in our family--never will any one be found with a - soul so beautiful, so loving, as yours. You have no successor. - There will be three new characters who will appear from - time to time on the scene--the brothers, especially the one - who will often be with us, Nicholas: an old bachelor, bald, - retired from service, as good and noble as ever. - - I imagine how he will, as of old, tell the children fairy - tales of his own invention, and how they will kiss his greasy - hands (but which are worthy of it), how he will play with - them, how my wife will bustle about to get him his favourite - dishes, how he and I will recall our common memories of days - long past, how you will sit in your accustomed place and - listen to us with pleasure; how, as of yore, you will call us, - old men, 'Lyovotchka' and 'Nikolenka,' and will scold me for - eating with my fingers, and him for not having clean hands. - - If they made me Emperor of Russia, or gave me Peru: in a word, - if a fairy came with her wand asking me what I wished for--my - hand on my conscience, I should reply that I only wish that - this dream may become a reality. - -He returned to Starogladovsk a Junker, and in February took part in an -expedition as a non-commissioned artillery officer, and nearly received -a St. George's Cross for bravery, but lost it because, once again, he -had not his documents in order. - -Writing to his Aunt Tatiana some months later (June 1852), he says: - - [10]Pendant cette expedition, j'ai eu l'occasion d'etre deux fois - presente a la croix de St. Georges et je n'ai pas pu la recevoir - a cause du retard de quelques jours de ce maudit papier. J'ai ete - presente pour la journee du 18 Fevrier (ma fete), mais on a ete - oblige de refuser a cause du manque de ce papier. La liste des - presentations partit le 19, le 20 le papier etait arrive. Je vous - avoue franchement que de tous les honneurs militaires c'est cette - seule petite croix que j'ai eu la vanite d'ambitionner. - - [10] During this expedition, I twice had the chance of being - presented to receive a St. George's Cross, and I was prevented - from receiving it by that confounded paper being a few days - late. I was nominated to receive it on 18 February (my name's - day), but it had to be refused me for want of that paper. The - list of nominations was sent off on the 19th, the paper came - on the 20th. I frankly confess that of all military honours, - that little cross is the only one which I have had the vanity - to desire. - -On a second occasion he had the refusal of the coveted cross, but -his Colonel pointed out to him that besides being sometimes given to -Junkers favoured by their officers, these crosses were also, and more -usually, granted to old and deserving privates, whom they entitled to -a life pension; and that if Tolstoy would forego the one intended for -him, it would be given to a veteran who deserved it, and to whom it -would secure a subsistence for his old age. Tolstoy, to his honour be -it said, renounced the coveted decoration. He had a third chance of -securing it later on, but this time, absorbed in playing chess till -late at night, he omitted to go on duty, and the Commander of the -Division noticing his absence, placed him under arrest and cancelled -the award which had been already made in his favour. Chess, I may here -mention, has always been a favourite game of Tolstoy's. He has never -studied the game from books, but has played much and plays ingeniously -and well. - -The kind of warfare in which he was now engaged, is well described in -_The Raid_ and _The Wood-Felling_. A detachment would set out to seize -a Tartar village, make a clearing in a forest, or capture cattle. -It would exchange cannon- and rifle-shots with Tartar skirmishers, -and would lose perhaps half a dozen men killed or wounded before -accomplishing its object; but the more serious part of the work came -when the expedition returned to the fortified camp from which it had -started. As soon as the retreat commenced, Tartar sharpshooters would -swarm out, trying to cut off stragglers and inflicting as much damage -as possible. Even after the Russians were beyond rifle-shot, a chance -ball from a Tartar cannon might reach them within sight of their own -quarters. - -To see a single man one has known well, struck down by a deadly bullet, -may impress an observer as vividly as the myriad corpses of a great -battlefield; and in Tolstoy's earliest war-sketches one feels the note -of horror at war quite as strongly as when, later on, he described far -bloodier struggles at Sevastopol. - -When not on campaign, Tolstoy was generally stationed at the Cossack -village of Starogladovsk, where he lived more or less the life vividly -described in _The Cossacks_. The Grebensky Cossacks located there were -descended from Russian Dissenters (Old-Believers) who had fled from -the persecution of former Tsars and had settled among the Mohammedan -Circassians near the river Terek. They had retained the purity of their -Russian speech, and remained nominally Christians, but had intermarried -with the natives and adopted many of their manners and customs. Love of -freedom, idleness, robbery, hunting, and war were their most prominent -characteristics. They considered themselves altogether superior both -to the semi-savage Mohammedan natives and to the tame, disciplined -Russians. Drunkenness was not so much a weakness of these men as 'a -tribal rite, to abandon which would have been considered as an act of -apostasy.' The work was done by the women, or by hired Nogai-Tartar -labourers. The women were physically better developed than the men, -and were celebrated for their beauty, combining the purest type of -Circassian features with the powerful build of Northern women. In their -relations with men, especially before marriage, they enjoyed absolute -freedom. - -There was much that attracted Tolstoy in the simple life of these -people: their frankness, their skill in hunting, their contempt for all -that is artificial or weak, and their freedom from the moral struggles -that tormented him. With one beautiful girl--Mariana--he fell deeply -in love, but she remained indifferent to the attentions of a man who -was inferior in the arts of war and hunting to some of the young men -of her own tribe. His courtship failed (as he says of his hero in _The -Cossacks_) because he could not, like a dashing young Cossack, 'steal -herds, get drunk on Tchikir wine, troll songs, kill people, and when -tipsy climb in at her window for a night, without thinking who he was -or why he existed.' - -Though one has always to be carefully on one's guard against taking -Tolstoy's stories as though they were autobiographical, there are -passages in _The Cossacks_ which certainly apply to himself, and give a -vivid idea of some of his moods at this time, as well as of his way of -life while living as a Junker at Starogladovsk. - -On one occasion the hero is out hunting in the woods and asks himself: - - 'How must I live so as to be happy, and why was I formerly not - happy?' And he remembered his previous life, and felt disgusted - with himself.... And suddenly a new light seemed revealed to - him. 'Happiness,' said he to himself, 'consists in living for - others. That is clear. The demand for happiness is innate in man; - therefore it is legitimate. If we seek to satisfy it selfishly: - by seeking wealth, fame, comforts, or love, circumstances may - render the satisfaction of these desires impossible. It follows - that they are illegitimate, but not that the demand for happiness - itself is illegitimate. But what desire is there that can always - be satisfied in spite of external conditions? What desire? Love, - self-sacrifice!' He was so glad and excited at discovering this, - as it seemed to him, new truth, that he jumped up and began - impatiently seeking for some one for whom he might quickly - sacrifice himself: to whom he might do good, and whom he could - love. 'Yes; I need nothing for myself!' he kept mentally repeating: - 'Then why not live for others?' - -In the same story Tolstoy tells us that his hero lived monotonously and -regularly. - - He had little to do with his Commander or fellow-officers. In the - Caucasus the position of a Junker with means of his own was in this - respect particularly favourable. He was not sent to drill nor kept - at work. As a reward for going on an expedition he was recommended - for a commission, and meanwhile he was left alone. The officers - considered him an aristocrat, and therefore in their intercourse - with him bore themselves with dignity. Card-playing and the - officers' carousals with singers, of which he had had experience - when on service with the detachment, seemed to him unattractive, - and he avoided the officers' society. - -Again he tells us that his hero - - often thought seriously of abandoning all else, enrolling himself - as a Cossack, buying a cottage, and marrying a Cossack girl ... - and living with Uncle Eroshka, going with him to hunt and to fish, - and with the Cossacks on expeditions. 'Why don't I do this? What - am I waiting for?' he asked himself.... But a voice told him to - wait, and not to decide. He was restrained by a dim consciousness - that he could not fully live the life of Eroshka and Loukashka, - because he had another happiness,--he was restrained by the thought - that happiness lies in self-sacrifice.... He continually sought an - opportunity to sacrifice himself for others, but it did not present - itself. - -In the same story the Cossack Loukashka kills a Tartar 'brave' at -night, and rises greatly in the popular esteem and in his own; and the -hero thinks to himself: - - 'What nonsense and confusion! A man kills another and is as happy - and satisfied as though he had done an excellent deed. Does nothing - tell him there is here no cause for great rejoicing? That happiness - consists not in killing others, but in sacrificing oneself?' - -We have a yet safer record of Tolstoy's feelings in his Diary, -in which about this time he noted down the following reflections -concerning the chief faults he was conscious of in himself: - - 1. The passion of gaming is a covetous passion, gradually - developing into a craving for strong excitement. Against this - passion one can struggle. - - 2. Sensuality is a physical need, a demand of the body, excited - by imagination. It increases with abstinence, and therefore the - struggle against it is very difficult. The best way is by labour - and occupation. - - 3. Vanity is the passion least harmful to others and most harmful - to oneself. - -In another passage, indicating quite a different phase of -consciousness, he writes: - - For some time past repentance for the loss of the best years of - life has begun to torment me, and this since I commenced to feel - that I could do something good.... There is something in me which - compels me to believe that I was not born to be like everybody else. - -In May we find him going on furlough to Pyatigorsk to drink the mineral -water and to be treated for rheumatism. This is his description of -Pyatigorsk, written nearly twenty years later in his Reading Book for -Children: - - Pyatigorsk (Five Hills) is so called because it stands on Mount - Besh-tau. _Besh_ means in Tartar 'five,' _Tau_ means 'hill.' From - this mountain flows a hot sulphur stream. The water is boiling, and - over the places where it springs from the mountain there is always - steam, as from a samovar. - - The whole place where the town stands is very gay. From the - mountain flow hot springs, and at the foot of the mountain flows - the river Podkoumok. The mountain slopes are wooded, all around are - fields, and afar off one sees the great Caucasian mountains. On - these the snow never melts, and they are always as white as sugar. - When the weather is clear, wherever one goes one sees the great - mountain, Elbrus, like a sugar cone. People come to the hot springs - for their health; and over the springs, arbours and awnings have - been erected, and gardens and paths have been laid out all around. - In the morning a band plays, and people drink the waters, or bathe, - or stroll about. - -Here he was joined by his sister Mary and her husband. She also came to -Pyatigorsk to be cured of rheumatism. She tells how her brother Leo was -at this time attracted by Spiritualism, and would sometimes even borrow -a table from a _cafe_ and have a _seance_ on the boulevard. He remained -in Pyatigorsk till 5th August, and then returned to Starogladovsk. From -thence he wrote to his aunt, repeating what he had said before of the -officers with whom he had to associate. - - [11]Il y a une trop grande difference dans l'education, les - sentiments et la maniere de voir de ceux que je rencontre ici pour - que je trouve quelque plaisir avec eux. Il n'y a que Nicolas qui a - le talent, malgre l'enorme difference qu'il y a entre lui et tous - ces messieurs, a s'amuser avec eux et a etre aime de tous. Je lui - envie ce talent, mais je sens que je ne puis en faire autant. - - [11] There is too great a difference in the education, the - sentiments, and the point of view of those I meet here, for - me to find any pleasure in their company. Only Nicholas, in - spite of the enormous difference between him and all these - gentlemen, has the talent to amuse himself with them, and - to be loved by all. I envy him this talent, but feel that I - cannot do the same. - -He mentions that for some time past he has acquired a taste for reading -history, and says that he perseveres in his literary occupations. He -had already three times rewritten a work he had in hand, and intended -to rewrite it again. He felt much more content with himself at this -time, and adds: - - [12]Il y a eu un temps ou j'etais vain de mon esprit et de ma - position dans le monde, de mon nom; mais a present je sais et je - sens que s'il y a en moi quelque chose de bon et que si j'ai a en - rendre grace a la Providence, c'est pour un coeur bon, sensible et - capable d'amour, qu'il lui a plu de me donner et de me conserver. - - [12] There was a time when I was vain of my intelligence, - of my position in the world, and of my name; but now I know - and feel that if there is anything good in me, and if I have - anything to thank Providence for, it is for a good heart, - sensitive and capable of love, which it has pleased it to give - me and to preserve in me. - -On 29th June he again notes in his Diary: - - He whose aim is his own happiness, is bad; he whose aim is the - good opinion of others, is weak; he whose aim is the happiness of - others, is virtuous; he whose aim is God, is great. - - -1852 - -On 2nd July he completed _Childhood_, and a few days later despatched -the manuscript, signed only with the initials L. N. T., to the best -Petersburg monthly, _The Contemporary_. On 28th August he received -a reply from the editor, the poet Nekrasof, saying he would publish -the story and that he thought its author had talent. Another letter -followed, dated 5th September 1852, in which Nekrasof said that having -re-read the story in proof, he found it 'much better than I had -realised at first. I can say definitely that its author has talent.' He -added that it would appear in the next number of his magazine. - -Tolstoy notes in his Diary: 'Received letter from Nekrasof; praises, -but no money.' - -Nekrasof's next letter is dated 30th October, and explains that it is -not customary to pay authors for their first work, but that he hopes -Tolstoy will send him more stories, and that in future he will pay -him as much as to the very best known writers, namely Rs. 50 (nearly -L7 at that time) per sheet of sixteen pages. He mentioned also that -_Childhood_ had been very well received by the public. - -Tolstoy kept his authorship a secret, revealing it to no one except -Nicholas and Aunt Tatiana. His sister Mary was by this time back at her -husband's estate, situated near Tourgenef's village of Spassky. There -Tourgenef came one day to visit her, bringing with him the last number -of the _Contemporary_. Full of praise of a new story by an unknown -author, he began reading it aloud, and to her great astonishment -Mary recognised, one after another, various incidents from her own -childhood. Her first guess was that Nicholas must have written it. - -Among the writers who at once acclaimed Tolstoy's genius was Panaef, -co-editor of the _Contemporary_, who, Tourgenef pretended, had to be -carefully shunned by his friends on the Nevsky (the chief street in -Petersburg) lest he should insist on reading them extracts from the new -story. Before long the work reached Dostoyevsky in Siberia, and he was -so struck by it that he wrote to a friend asking him to find out who -the talented L. N. T. was. - -Meanwhile Tolstoy continued his military career in the Caucasus. On -his return to Starogladovsk in August, he had noted in his Diary: -'Simplicity--that is the quality which above all others I desire to -attain.' - -He had to pass an unpleasant month in consequence of the autumn -manoeuvres, about which he wrote: 'It was not very pleasant to have -to march about and fire off cannons; especially as it disturbed the -regularity of my life'; and he rejoiced when it was over and he was -again able to devote himself to 'hunting, writing, reading, and -conversation with Nicholas.' He had become fond of shooting game, at -which--as at all physical exercises--he was expert; and he spent two or -three hours a day at it. He writes to his Aunt Tatiana: - - At 100 paces from my lodging I find wild fowl, and in half an hour - I kill 2, 3, or 4. Besides the pleasure, the exercise is excellent - for my health, which in spite of the waters is not very good. I am - not ill, but I often catch cold and suffer from sore throat or from - toothache or from rheumatism, so that I have to keep to my room at - least two days in the week. - -One of the forms of sport he enjoyed during his stay in the Caucasus -was strepet shooting: the strepet being a steppe grouse. Before they -migrate in mid-August, these birds assemble in enormous flocks, and -are extremely wild and difficult of approach. It is hardly possible to -get within two hundred or two hundred and fifty yards of such a flock. -Tolstoy had a horse that was specially trained for this particular -sport. On it he used to ride at a foot-pace two or three times round a -flock, carefully narrowing the circle till he got as near as possible -without alarming the birds. Then he would dash forward at full gallop -with his gun ready. The moment the birds rose he dropped his reins on -the horse's neck, and the well-trained animal would instantly stop, -allowing its master to take aim. - -Tolstoy's military career was not giving him satisfaction. Having -left home without any definite plans, he had neglected to bring any -documents with him, and the result of this was that instead of becoming -an officer within eighteen months, as he expected to do when he entered -the army, he now, after serving for ten months, received notice that -he would have to serve another three years before he could obtain his -commission. - -In this difficulty he applied to his aunt P. I. Ushkof, who by -application to an influential friend eventually succeeded in hastening -his promotion. Meanwhile however Tolstoy--who had made up his mind to -retire from the army as soon as he received his commission--almost lost -patience. - -On 24th December he completed the sketch entitled _The Raid: A -Volunteer's Story_, and two days later posted it to the _Contemporary_, -in which magazine it appeared in March 1853. The following passage -occurs in this his first story of war, and foreshadows the attitude he -ultimately made definitely his own. He is describing a march through -Caucasian scenery to a night attack on a Tartar _Aoul_, and he says: - - Nature, beautiful and strong, breathed conciliation. - - Can it be that people have not room to live in this beautiful - world, under this measureless, starry heaven? Can feelings of - enmity, vengeance, or lust to destroy one's fellow beings, retain - their hold on man's soul amid this enchanting Nature? All that is - evil in man's heart should, one would think, vanish in contact with - Nature--this immediate expression of beauty and goodness. - -From the very start we find Tolstoy hampered in his work by that -incubus of all Russian writers, the Censor. In a letter to his brother -Sergius in May he writes: '_Childhood_ was spoilt, and _The Raid_ -simply ruined by the Censor. All that was good in it has been struck -out or mutilated.' In comparing Tolstoy's literary achievement with -that of Western writers, one should make a large allowance for the -continual annoyance, delay, mutilation, and suppression inflicted on -him by that terrible satellite of despotism. - - -1853 - -In January, the battery in which Leo Tolstoy served went on active -service against Shamyl. The expedition assembled at Fort Grozny, where -scenes of debauchery occurred. - -On 18th February Tolstoy's life was in great danger. A shell fired by -the enemy smashed the carriage of a cannon he was pointing. Strange -to say he was not even wounded. On 1st April he returned with his -detachment to Starogladovsk; and in May we find him writing to his -brother Sergius that he had applied for his discharge, and hoped in six -weeks' time to return home a free man. Difficult as his admission to -the army had been, he found, however, that to retire was a yet harder -matter, destined to take not weeks but years. - -On 13th June his life was again in danger owing to an adventure which -supplied him with the subject he utilised later on in _A Prisoner in -the Caucasus_. - -It being dangerous to travel between the Russian forts without -an escort, non-combatants, as well as stores and baggage, were -periodically convoyed from one post to another. On these expeditions -it was forbidden for any one to detach himself from the main body; but -the intolerable slowness of the infantry march on a hot day, frequently -tempted those who were mounted, to ride on, and to run the risk of -being attacked by the 'Tartars' (who were generally Circassians). On -one such occasion five horsemen, including Tolstoy and his friend Sado, -disobeyed the regulations and rode ahead. The two friends ascended -the hillside to see whether any foes were visible, while their three -companions proceeded along the valley below. Hardly had the two reached -the crest of the ridge when they saw thirty mounted Tartars galloping -towards them. Calculating that there was not time to rejoin their -companions in the valley, Tolstoy shouted them a warning, and raced off -along the ridge towards Fort Grozny, which was their destination. The -three did not, at first, take his warning seriously, but wasting some -precious moments before turning to rejoin the column, were overtaken -by the Tartars, and two of them were very severely wounded before a -rescue party from the convoy put the enemy to flight. Meanwhile Tolstoy -and Sado, pursued by seven horsemen along the hill ridge, had to ride -nearly three miles to reach the fort. It so happened that Tolstoy was -trying a young horse of Sado's, while Sado was riding Tolstoy's ambler, -which could not gallop. Though Tolstoy could easily have escaped on -Sado's fiery horse, he would not desert his comrade. Sado had a gun, -unluckily not loaded, and so he could only make a pretence with it of -aiming at his pursuers. It seemed almost certain that both fugitives -would be killed; but apparently the Tartars decided to capture them -alive, perhaps wishing to revenge themselves on Sado for being a -pro-Russian, and therefore they did not shoot them down. At last a -sentinel at Grozny having espied their plight, gave the alarm and some -Cossacks galloped to their rescue. At sight of these, the Tartars made -off and the fugitives escaped uninjured. - -Tolstoy continued his habit of forming resolutions; and about this -time he wrote: 'Be straightforward, not rough, but frank with all -men; yet not childishly frank without any need.... Refrain from -wine and women ... the pleasure is so small and uncertain, and the -remorse so great.... Devote yourself completely to whatever you do. On -experiencing any strong sensation, wait; but having once considered the -matter, though wrongly, act decisively.' - -From the middle of July to October, Tolstoy again stayed at Pyatigorsk. - -A companion he had brought with him to the Caucasus was his black -bulldog, Boulka. He intended to leave it at home, but after he had -started, the dog had broken a pane of glass and escaped from the room -in which it was confined, and when Tolstoy, after stopping at the first -post-station, was just resuming his journey, he saw something black -racing along the road after him. It was Boulka, who rushed to his -master, licked his hand, and lay down panting in the shade of a cart. -The dog had galloped nearly fourteen miles in the heat of the day, and -was rewarded by being taken to the Caucasus, where it was destined to -meet with many adventures. - -On one occasion this dog boldly attacked a wild boar, and had its -stomach ripped open by the latter's tusk. While its wound was being -sewn up, the dog licked its master's hand. - -On another occasion, when Tolstoy was sitting at night with a friend -in the village street, intending to start for Pyatigorsk at daybreak, -they suddenly heard a sucking-pig squeal, and guessed that a wolf -was killing it. Tolstoy ran into the house, seized a loaded gun, and -returned in time to see a wolf running straight towards him from the -other side of a wattle-fence. The wolf jumped on to the top of the -fence and descended close to Tolstoy who, almost touching him with the -muzzle of his gun, drew the trigger. The gun missed fire, and the wolf -raced off, chased by Boulka and by Tolstoy's setter, Milton. The wolf -escaped, but not till it had snapped at Boulka and inflicted a slight -wound on his head. Strange to say, the wolf ventured to return a little -later into the middle of the street, and again escaped unhurt. - -Not long after, in Pyatigorsk, shortly before Tolstoy left the -Caucasus, while drinking coffee in the garden of his lodging, he heard -a tremendous noise of men and dogs, and, on inquiry, learnt that -convicts had been let out of gaol to kill the dogs, of whom there -were too many in the town, but that orders had been given to spare -dogs wearing collars. As ill-luck would have it, Tolstoy had removed -Boulka's collar; and Boulka, apparently recognising the convicts as his -natural enemies, rushed out into the street and flew at one of them. A -man had just freed the long hook he carried, from the corpse of a dog -he had caught and held down while his companions beat it to death with -bludgeons. He now adroitly hooked Boulka and drew the unfortunate dog -towards him, calling to his mate to kill it, which the latter prepared -to do. Boulka however bounded aside with such force that the skin of -his thigh burst where the hook held it, and with tail between his legs -and a red wound on his thigh, he flew back into the house and hid -under Tolstoy's bed. His escape was not of much use. The wolf that had -snapped at him six weeks before must have been mad, for Boulka after -showing premonitory symptoms of rabies, disappeared, and was never -heard of more. - -Tolstoy's state of mind during the latter part of this year is -indicated by his letters. To his brother Sergius he wrote on 20th July: - - I think I already wrote you that I have sent in my resignation. - God knows, however, on account of the war with Turkey, whether it - will be accepted, or when. This disturbs me very much, for I have - now grown so accustomed to happy thoughts of soon settling down - in the country, that to return to Starogladovsk and again wait - unendingly--as I have to wait for everything connected with my - service--will be very unpleasant. - -Again, in December, he writes from Starogladovsk: - - Please write about my papers quickly. This is necessary. '_When - shall I come home?_' God only knows. For nearly a year I have been - thinking only of how to sheath my sword, but still cannot manage - it. And as I must fight somewhere, I think it will be pleasanter to - do so in Turkey than here, and I have therefore applied to Prince - Serge Dmitrievitch [Gortchakof] about it, and he writes me that he - has written to his brother, but what the result will be, I do not - know. - -It will be remembered that Tolstoy's paternal grandmother was a -Gortchakof. Through her he was nearly related to Prince S. D. -Gortchakof and to his brother, Prince Michael Dmitrievitch Gortchakof, -who had been a friend of his father's in the war of 1812, and was now -in command of the Russian army on the Danube. - -The letter continues: - - At any rate by New Year I expect to change my way of life, - which I confess wearies me intolerably. Stupid officers, stupid - conversations, and nothing else. If there were but a single man to - whom one could open one's soul! Tourgenef is right: 'What irony - there is in solitude,'--one becomes palpably stupid oneself. - Although Nikolenka has gone off with the hounds--Heaven knows why - (Epishka[13] and I often call him 'a pig' for so doing)--I go out - hunting alone for whole days at a time from morning to evening, - with a setter. That is my only pleasure--and not a pleasure but a - narcotic. One tires oneself out, gets famished, sleeps like the - dead, and a day has passed. When you have an opportunity, or are - yourself in Moscow, buy me Dickens' _David Copperfield_ in English, - and send me _Sadler's English Dictionary_ which is among my books. - - [13] The Cossack hunter Epishka, the original of Eroshka, who - figures so prominently in _The Cossacks_. - -Of the entries in his Diary at this time, we may note the following: - - All the prayers I have invented I replace by the one prayer, 'Our - Father.' All the requests I can make to God are far more loftily - expressed and more worthily of Him, in the words 'Thy Kingdom come, - as in heaven so on earth.' - -About this time he completed his _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_, -and sent it to the _Contemporary_ with a letter expressing his own -dissatisfaction with the hasty workmanship of the story; it did -not appear till more than a year later. He was also now at work on -_Boyhood_. - -Seventeen years after Tolstoy had left the Caucasus, an officer -stationed at Starogladovsk found his memory still fresh among the -Cossacks, and saw Mariana (comparatively aged by that time), as well -as several elderly Cossack hunters who had shot wild fowl and wild -boars with Tolstoy. In his regiment he left the reputation of being an -excellent narrator, who enthralled every one by his conversation. - - -1854 - -Not till January 1854 did the long-expected order arrive allowing him -to pass the examination (a pure formality at that time) entitling him -to become an officer. On the 19th he left for home, and on 2nd February -reached Yasnaya, where he enjoyed a three weeks' stay with his Aunt -Tatiana, his brother, and a friend. On this journey he encountered a -severe storm, to which we owe _The Snow Storm_, published a couple of -years later, and probably also much of the storm description in _Master -and Man_, written in later life. - -The Russo-Turkish war had now begun in earnest, and, as a result of his -application, he received orders to join the army of the Danube, which -he set out accordingly to do. - -Of the Caucasian period of his life, as of his University days, -Tolstoy has at different times expressed himself differently. To -Birukof, in 1905, he spoke of it as one of the best times of his life, -notwithstanding all his deflections from his dimly recognised ideals. -Yet two years earlier, writing of the four periods of his life, he had -spoken of 'the terrible twenty years of coarse dissipation, the service -of ambition, vanity, and above all, of lust,' which followed after the -age of fourteen. - -But what it comes to is, that Tolstoy is a man of moods, and -judges himself and others, sometimes by ordinary and sometimes by -extraordinary standards. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER III - -Birukof. - -Behrs. - -U. Bitovt, _Graf L. Tolstoy v literatoure i iskousstve_: Petersburg, -1903. (Hereafter called 'Bitovt.') Though ill-arranged, this book -is valuable to any one engaged on the difficult task of compiling a -Bibliography of Tolstoy's works. - -Nekrasof's letters to Tolstoy published in the Literary Supplement to -the _Niva_, February 1898. - -Much light is also thrown on this period of Tolstoy's life by the -following works, which must not be considered autobiographical: - - _The Raid._ - _The Wood-Felling._ - _Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance._ - _The Cossacks_, and - _The Snow Storm_, - -as well as by stories included in Tolstoy's _Readers_: - - _Boulka._ - _Boulka and the Wild Boar._ - _Milton and Boulka._ - _Boulka and the Wolf._ - _What Happened to Boulka in Pyatigorsk._ - _Boulka's and Milton's End._ - _A Prisoner in the Caucasus._ - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - THE CRIMEAN WAR - -Joins army of the Danube. Siege of Silistria. Sevastopol. Projected -Newspaper. _Sevastopol in December._ Battle of the Tchernaya. Capture -of the Malahof. Courier to Petersburg. Song. Relations with superiors -and fellow-officers. Self-depreciation. _The Wood-Felling._ _Sevastopol -in May._ The Censor. On War. - - -AT twenty-five years of age it fell to Tolstoy's lot to take part in a -great European war and thereby to extend the range of his experience in -a way that considerably affected his subsequent life and writings. - -Tolstoy tells us that he got his first understanding of war from -Stendhal, the author of _Le Rouge et le Noir_ and _La Chartreuse de -Parme_. In conversation with Paul Boyer, Tolstoy once spoke of those -novels as inimitable works of art, adding, 'I am greatly indebted to -Stendhal. He taught me to understand war. Re-read the description of -the battle of Waterloo in _La Chartreuse de Parme_. Who ever before -so described war? Described it, that is, as it is in reality? Do you -remember Fabrice riding over the field of battle and understanding -"nothing"?' - -Tolstoy's brother Nicholas, though fond of war, also disbelieved in -the popular romantic view of it, and used to say: 'All _that_ is -embellishment, and in real war there is no embellishment.'--'A little -later, in the Crimea,' added Tolstoy in his talk with Boyer, 'I had a -grand chance to see with my own eyes that this is so.' - -Of the causes that led to the war it need only be said that the rule -of the Turks over Christian populations had long kept a dangerous -sore open in Europe, and the consequent diplomatic difficulties were -complicated by the indefiniteness of two lines in the Treaty of -Kainardji, which Catherine the Great had imposed upon Turkey in 1774. -There was also friction between the Eastern and Western Churches, with -reference to the custody of the Places in Palestine rendered holy by -their traditional connection with the Prince of Peace. Nicholas I, who -had wellnigh drilled all intelligence out of those near him in his -Government and in his army, was not accustomed to be thwarted. Dimly -conscious of the first faint symptoms of that growth of Liberalism -which a few years later, in the early 'sixties, led to sweeping reforms -in Russia, he felt inclined to demonstrate the beneficence of his -rule not by allowing changes to be made at home, but by arbitrarily -inflicting reforms on Turkey. Failing to get his way by diplomatic -pressure, he rashly proceeded to occupy the Danubian Principalities as -a 'material guarantee' of Turkey's compliance with his demands. - -He was opposed by Austria and Prussia as strongly as by England and -France, and the pressure exerted by the four powers sufficed to compel -him to withdraw his army from Turkish soil. Thereupon the war, which -had as yet been waged only between Russia and Turkey, might well have -ended, had not England and France undertaken a quite needless invasion -of the Crimea: an enterprise in which Austria and Prussia refused to -join. The end did not justify the proceedings, for in spite of success -in this war, Napoleon the Third's dynasty crumbled to dust within -twenty years, while within a like period after Palmerston's death -Lord Salisbury frankly admitted that we had 'put our money on the -wrong horse.' As to Nicholas I, his pride was destined to be bitterly -mortified by the results of an enterprise which not only failed of its -immediate object, but by its failure actually hastened the coming of -those reforms in Russia against which he had set his face. Even Turkey -did not really benefit by being allowed to oppress her subject races -for a couple of generations longer. - -It was the influence of Napoleon III, as Kinglake has pointed out, -that led England to take part in the war. Having by treachery and -murder made himself Emperor of the French, that monarch found himself -for a time dangerously isolated from the support of people of good -repute. In consultation with Palmerston, he decided to subordinate the -traditional Eastern policy of his country to that of England if thereby -he could succeed in being publicly paraded as the friend and ally of -Queen Victoria. As soon as he had secured an alliance with England, -with Palmerston's aid, and helped by the extraordinary war fever which -seized the English nation, he quickly forced the peacefully disposed -Lord Aberdeen along an inclined plane which ultimately plunged both -nations into a war for which no sufficient motive justification or -excuse existed. - - -1854 - -Hostilities between Russia and Turkey had begun in October 1853, but -France and England did not break off negotiations with the former power -till the end of March 1854, the very month in which Tolstoy reached -Bucharest on his way through Wallachia to join the army. - -From there he wrote to his aunt, telling of his journey. The roads -after he had passed Kherson, and especially after he had crossed -the frontier, were abominable; his journey lasted nine days; and he -'arrived almost ill with fatigue.' - -A few days later, on 17th March, he wrote of his first interview with -Gortchakof: - - [14]Le prince Gortchakof n'etait pas ici. Hier il vient d'arriver - et je viens de chez lui. Il m'a recu mieux que je ne croyais--en - vrai parent. Il m'a embrasse, il m'a engage de venir diner tous les - jours chez lui et il veut me garder aupres de lui, mais ce n'est - pas encore decide. - - Pardon, chere tante, que je vous ecris peu--je n'ai pas encore la - tete a moi,--cette grande et belle ville, toutes ces presentations, - l'opera italien, le theatre francais, les deux jeunes Gortchakof - qui sont de tres braves garcons ... de sorte que je ne suis pas - reste deux heures chez moi, et je n'ai pas pense a mes occupations. - - [14] Prince Gortchakof was not here. He arrived yesterday, and - I have just come from his lodgings. He received me better than - I expected--quite as a relation. He embraced me, and made me - promise to dine at his house every day. He wants to keep me - near him, but this is not yet decided. - - Forgive me, dear Aunt, for writing but little to you--I have - not yet collected my wits; this large and fine town, all these - presentations, the Italian opera, the French theatre, the two - young Gortchakofs, who are very fine lads ... so that I have - not remained two hours at home, and have not thought of my - duties. - -On 22nd March he adds: 'I learnt yesterday that I am not to remain with -the Prince, but am to go to Oltenitza to join my battery.' - -In May he wrote: - - [15]Tandis que vous me croyez expose a tous les dangers de la - guerre je n'ai pas encore senti la poudre turque, et je suis tres - tranquillement a Boukarest a me promener, a faire de la musique et - a manger des glaces. En effet tout ce temps, excepte deux semaines - que j'ai passees a Oltenitza ou j'ai ete attache a une batterie, et - une semaine que j'ai passee en courses par la Moldavie, Valachie et - Bessarabie par ordre du gen. Serjpoutovsky aupres duquel je suis a - present _by special appointment_, je suis reste a Boukarest et a - vous avouer franchement, ce genre de vie un peu dissipe, tout a - fait oisif et tres couteux que je mene ici me deplait infiniment. - Auparavant c'etait le service qui m'y retenait, mais a present j'y - suis reste pendant pres de trois semaines a cause d'une fievre que - j'ai attrapee pendant mon voyage, mais dont, Dieu merci, je suis - pour le moment assez retabli pour rejoindre dans deux ou trois - jours mon general qui est au camp pres de Silistrie. A propos de - mon general, il a l'air d'etre un tres brave homme et parait, - quoique nous nous connaissons fort peu, etre bien dispose a mon - egard. Ce qui est encore fort agreable est que son etat-major est - compose pour la plupart de gens comme il faut. - - [15] While you are fancying me exposed to all the dangers - of war, I have not yet smelt Turkish powder, but am very - quietly at Bucharest, strolling about, making music, and - eating ices. In fact, all this time, except for two weeks I - spent at Oltenitza, where I was attached to a battery, and - one week I passed making excursions in Moldavia Wallachia and - Bessarabia by order of General Serzhpoutovsky, on whose staff - I now am by special appointment, I have been at Bucharest; and - to speak frankly, the rather dissipated, quite idle and very - expensive kind of life that I lead here, displeases me very - much. Formerly it was the service that kept me here; but now - for three weeks I have been kept here by a fever caught during - my journey, but from which, thank God, I have for the present - recovered sufficiently to be able in two or three days' time - to rejoin my General, who is in camp near Silistria. Apropos - of my General, he appears to be a very fine fellow, and though - we know each other very slightly, seems well disposed toward - me. What is also agreeable is that his staff consists for the - most part of gentlemen. - -We shall find Tolstoy modifying this opinion, a little later on; but it -is worth noting that at this time he was fully alive to the superiority -of '_gens comme il faut_,' and that his depreciation of them in later -years may have been partly a reaction from a previous over-valuation. - -By June 1854 the military and political situation was as follows. The -Russians had advanced through Moldavia and Wallachia to the Danube, had -crossed that river, and were besieging Silistria. Austria, supporting -the other great powers, had massed a powerful army on the Turkish -frontier, and a glance at the map of Europe will show that the Russian -army, far removed from its base, was in imminent danger of being cut -off by the Austrians, who peremptorily summoned Russia to evacuate -the Principalities, and on 14th June concluded a formal alliance with -the Porte. These circumstances explain the sudden abandonment of the -siege of Silistria mentioned in the following letter, addressed by Leo -Tolstoy to his Aunt Tatiana and to his brother Nicholas conjointly; -though when he wrote it, the causes which produced the result he -described were a mystery to him. - - [16]Je vais vous parler donc de mes souvenirs de Silistrie. J'y ai - vu tant de choses interessantes, poetiques et touchantes que le - temps que j'y ai passe ne s'effacera jamais de ma memoire. Notre - camp etait dispose de l'autre cote du Danube c.a d. sur la rive - droite sur un terrain tres eleve au milieu de superbes jardins, - appartenant a Mustafa Pasha--le gouverneur de Silistrie. La vue - de cet endroit est non seulement magnifique, mais pour nous tous - du plus grand interet. Sans parler du Danube, de ces iles et de - ces rivages, les uns occupes par nous, les autres par les Turcs, - on voyait la ville, la forteresse, les petits forts de Silistrie - comme sur la main. On entendait les coups de canons, de fusils - qui ne cessaient ni jour ni nuit, et avec une lunette d'approche - on pouvait distinguer les soldats turcs. Il est vrai que c'est - un drole de plaisir que de voir de gens s'entretuer et cependant - tous les soirs et matins je me mettais sur ma cart et je restais - des heures entieres a regarder et ce n'etait pas moi le seul qui - le faisait. Le spectacle etait vraiment beau, surtout la nuit. - Les nuits ordinairement mes soldats se mettent aux travaux des - tranchees, et les Turcs se jettent sur eux pour les en empecher, - alors il fallait voir et entendre cette fusillade. La premiere nuit - que j'ai passee au camp ce bruit terrible m'a reveille et effraye, - je croyais qu'on est alle a l'assaut et j'ai bien vite fait seller - mon cheval, mais ceux qui avait deja passe quelque temps au camp - me dirent que je n'avais qu'a me tenir tranquille, que cette - canonnade et fusillade etait une chose ordinaire et qu'on appela en - plaisantant, 'Allah'; alors je me suis recouche, mais ne pouvant - m'endormir je me suis amuse, une montre a la main, a compter les - coups de canon que j'entendais et j'ai compte 110 explosions dans - l'espace d'une minute. Et cependant tout ceci n'a eu de pres - l'air aussi effrayant que cela le parait. La nuit, quand on n'y - voyait rien, c'etait a qui brulerait le plus de poudre et avec ces - milliers de coups de canons on tuait tout au plus une trentaine - d'hommes de part et d'autre. - - Ceci donc est un spectacle ordinaire que nous avions tous les - jours et dans lequel, quand on m'envoyait avec des ordres dans les - tranchees, je prenais aussi ma part; mais nous avions aussi des - spectacles extraordinaires, comme celui de la veille de l'assaut - quand on a fait sauter une mine de 240 pouds de poudre sous un des - bastions de l'ennemi. Le matin de cette journee le prince avait - ete aux tranchees avec tout son etat-major (comme le general aupres - duquel j'etais en fait partie, j'y ai aussi ete) pour faire les - dispositions definies--vu pour l'assaut du lendemain. Le plan, - trop long pour que je puisse l'expliquer ici, etait si bien fait, - tout etait si bien prevu que personne ne doutait de la reussite. A - propos de cela il faut que je vous dise encore que je commence a - avoir de l'admiration pour le prince (au reste il faut en entendre - parler parmi les officiers et les soldats, non seulement je n'ai - jamais entendu dire du mal de lui, mais il est generalement adore). - - Je l'ai vu au feu pour la premiere fois pendant cette matinee. - Il faut voir cette figure un peu ridicule avec sa grande taille, - ses mains derriere le dos, sa casquette en arriere, ses lunettes - et sa maniere de parler comme un dindon. On voit qu'il etait - tellement occupe de la marche generale des affaires que les balles - et les boulets n'existaient pas pour lui; il s'expose au danger - avec tant de simplicite, qu'on dirait qu'il n'en a pas l'idee et - qu'involontairement qu'on n'a plus peur de lui que pour soi-meme; - et puis donnant ses ordres avec tant de clarte et de precision - et avec cela toujours affable avec chacun. C'est un grand, c.a - d. un homme qui s'est voue toute sa vie au service de sa patrie - et pas par l'ambition, mais par le devoir. Je vais vous raconter - un trait de lui qui se lie a l'histoire de cet assaut que j'ai - commence a raconter. L'apres-diner du meme jour on a fait sauter - la mine, et pres de 600 pieces d'artillerie ont fait feu sur le - fort qu'on voulait prendre, et on continuait ce feu pendant toute - la nuit, c'etait un de ces coups d'oeil et une de ces emotions - qu'on n'oublie jamais. Le soir de nouveau le prince, avec tout le - tremblement, est alle coucher aux tranchees pour diriger lui-meme - l'assaut qui devait commencer a 3 heures de la nuit meme. - - Nous etions tous la et comme toujours a la veille d'une bataille - nous faisions tous semblant de ne pas plus penser de la journee - de demain qu'a une journee ordinaire et tous, j'en suis sur, - au fond du coeur ressentaient un petit serrement de coeur et - pas meme un petit mais un grand, a l'idee de l'assaut. Comme tu - sais que le temps qui precede une affaire est le temps le plus - desagreable--c'est le seul ou on a le temps d'avoir peur, et la - peur est un sentiment des plus desagreables. Vers le matin, plus - le moment approchait, plus le sentiment diminuait et vers 3 heures - quand nous attendions tous a voir partir le bouquet de fusees qui - etait le signal de l'attaque--j'etais si bien dispose que si l'on - etait venu me dire que l'assaut n'aurait pas lieu, cela m'aurait - fait beaucoup de peine. Et voila que juste une heure avant le - moment de l'assaut arrive un aide de camp du marechal avec l'ordre - d'oter le siege de Silistrie. Je puis dire sans craindre de me - tromper que cette nouvelle a ete recue par tous--soldats, officiers - et generaux--comme un vrai malheur, d'autant plus qu'on savait par - les espions, qui nous venaient tres souvent de Silistrie, et avec - lesquels j'avais tres souvent l'occasion de causer moi-meme, on - savait que ce fort pris,--chose dont personne ne doutait--Silistrie - ne pouvait tenir plus de 2 ou 3 jours. N'est-ce pas que si cette - nouvelle devait faire de la peine a quelqu'un ce devait etre au - prince, qui pendant toute cette campagne ayant fait toute chose - pour le mieux, au beau milieu de l'action vit venir le marechal - sur son dos pour gater les affaires et puis ayant la seule chance - de reparer nos revers par cet assaut, il recoit le contre ordre - du marechal au moment de le commencer. Eh bien, le prince n'a pas - eu un moment de mauvaise humeur, lui, qui est si impressionable, - au contraire il a ete content de pouvoir eviter cette boucherie, - dont il devait porter la responsabilite et tout le temps de la - retraite qu'il a dirige lui-meme, ne voulant passer qu'avec - le dernier des soldats, qui s'est faite avec un ordre et une - exactitude remarquables, il a ete plus gai qu'il n'a jamais ete. Ce - qui contribuait beaucoup a sa bonne humeur, c'etait l'emigration - de pres de 7000 familles bulgares, que nous prenons avec pour le - souvenir de la ferocite des Turcs--ferocite a laquelle malgre mon - incredulite j'ai ete oblige de croire. Des que nous avons quitte - des differents villages bulgares que nous occupions, les Turcs y - sont revenus et excepte les femmes assez jeunes pour un harem, ils - ont fait main basse sur tout ce qu'il y avait. Il y a un village - dans lequel je suis alle du camp pour y prendre du lait et des - fruits qui a ete extermine de la sorte. Alors des que le prince - avait fait savoir aux Bulgares que ceux qui voulaient pouvaient - avec l'armee passer le Danube et devenir sujets russes, tout le - pays se souleve et tous avec leurs femmes, enfants, chevaux, - betails arrivent au pont,--mais comme il etait impossible de les - prendre tous, le prince a ete oblige de refuser a ceux qui sont - venus les derniers et il fallait voir comme cela le chagrinait. - Il recevait toutes les deputations qui venaient de ces pauvres - gens, il causait avec chacun d'eux, tachait de leur expliquer - l'impossibilite de la chose, leur proposait de passer sans leurs - chariots et leur betail et en se chargeant de leurs moyens de - subsistence jusqu'a ce qu'ils arrivassent en Russie, payant de sa - propre bourse des vaisseaux particuliers pour les transporter, en - un mot faisant tout son possible pour faire du bien a ces gens. - - Oui, chere tante, je voudrais bien que votre prophetie se realise. - La chose que j'ambitionne le plus, est d'etre l'aide de camp d'un - homme comme lui que j'aime et que j'estime du plus profond de mon - coeur. Adieu, chere et bonne tante; je baise vos mains. - - [16] I am going to tell you of my recollections of Silistria. - I there saw so much that was interesting, poetic and touching, - that the time I passed there will never be effaced from my - memory. Our camp was on the other side of the Danube, _i.e._ - on the right bank, on very high ground amid splendid gardens - belonging to Mustafa Pasha, the Governor of Silistria. The - view from that place is not only magnificent, but of the - greatest interest to us all. Not to speak of the Danube, its - islets and its banks, some occupied by us, others by the - Turks, one could see the town, the fortress and the little - forts of Silistria as on the palm of one's hand. One heard - the booming of cannon and musket-shots unceasingly day and - night; and with a spy-glass one could distinguish the Turkish - soldiers. It is true it is a queer sort of pleasure to see - people killing one another, yet every evening and every - morning I got on to my cart and remained for hours at a - time, watching: nor was I the only one who did so. The sight - was really fine, especially at night. At night my soldiers - usually undertake trench-work, and the Turks fling themselves - upon them to hinder them; then one should see and hear the - fusillade! The first night I passed in camp, this dreadful - noise awoke and frightened me: I thought an assault had - begun. I very soon had my horse saddled; but those who had - been already some time in camp told me that I had only to - keep quiet: that this cannonade and fusillade was an ordinary - affair, and they jestingly called it 'Allah.' Then I lay down - again; but not being able to sleep, I amused myself, watch in - hand, counting the cannon-shots, and I counted 110 reports in - a minute. And yet, at close quarters, all this did not look - so terrible as might be supposed. At night, when nothing was - visible, it was a case of who could burn most powder, and with - all these thousands of cannon-shots at most some thirty men - were killed on each side.... - - This then was an ordinary performance we had every day, and - one in which I took a share when I was sent to the trenches - with orders; but we also had extraordinary performances, - such as the one on the eve of the attack, when a mine of 240 - poods (8600 lbs.) of gunpowder was exploded under one of the - enemy's bastions. On the morning of that day the Prince had - been to the trenches with all his staff (and as the General - I was attached to belong to it, I was there too) to make the - final arrangements for next day's assault. The plan--too - long for me to explain here--was so well arranged, all was - so well foreseen, that no one doubted its success. Apropos - of this I must tell you further that I am beginning to feel - admiration for the Prince (for that matter you should hear how - the officers and soldiers speak of him: not only have I never - heard him spoken ill of, but he is generally adored). - - That morning I saw him under fire for the first time. You - should see his rather absurd tall figure, his hands behind his - back, his cap on the back of his head, his spectacles, and - his way of speaking like a turkey-cock. One could see that he - was so preoccupied with the general trend of affairs that the - balls and bullets did not exist as far as he was concerned. - He exposes himself to danger so simply that one would say he - was unconscious of it, and involuntarily one fears it only for - oneself; [The text here is obscure, and the meaning a little - doubtful] and then he gives his orders with such clearness - and precision, and is at the same time always so affable with - everybody. He is a great man, _i.e._ a capable and honest man, - as I understand the word: one who has dedicated his whole - life to the service of his country, and not from ambition, - but for the sake of duty. I will give you a trait of his - character connected with the story I had begun to tell you of - the assault. After dinner that same day, the mine was sprung, - and nearly 600 guns opened fire on the fort we wished to take, - and this continued the whole night. It was such a sight and - such an emotion as one never forgets. That evening the Prince, - amid all the commotion, went to sleep in the trenches, that he - might personally direct the assault, which was to begin at 3 - o'clock the same night. - - We were all there, and as usual on the eve of a battle, we - all made believe not to think of the morrow more than of any - other day, and we all, I am sure, at bottom, felt our hearts - contract a little (and not a little, but a great deal) at - the thought of the assault. As you know, the time before a - fight is the most disagreeable: it is only then that one has - time to be afraid, and fear is a most disagreeable feeling. - Towards morning, the nearer the moment came the more the - feeling diminished, and towards 3 o'clock when we were all - expecting to see a shower of rockets let off, which was the - signal for the attack, I was so well inclined for it that I - should have been much disappointed if any one had come to - tell me that the attack was not to take place. And there! - Just an hour before the time for the attack, an aide-de-camp - comes from the Field-Marshal [Paskevitch, who for a time took - over the supreme command of the army of the Danube] with - orders to raise the siege of Silistria! I can say, without - fear of making a mistake, that this news was received by all, - soldiers, officers, and generals, as a real misfortune, the - more so as we knew from the spies--who very often came to us - from Silistria, and with whom I very often had occasion to - speak--that once we had taken this fort (about which none - of us felt any doubt) Silistria could not have held out for - more than 2 or 3 days. Is it not true that if this news was - calculated to pain any one, it must have been the Prince, - who having all through this campaign arranged everything for - the best, yet saw, in the very middle of the action, the - Field-Marshal override him and spoil the business? Having - this one chance to repair our reverses by this assault, he - received counter-orders from the Field-Marshal at the moment - of commencing! Well, the Prince was not put out of temper for - a moment. He who is so impressionable, was, on the contrary, - pleased to be able to avoid that butchery, the responsibility - for which he would have had to bear; and during the whole time - of the retreat--which he directed personally, not wishing to - cross (the Danube) before the last of the soldiers--which took - place with remarkable order and exactitude, he was gayer than - he has ever been. What contributed much to his good humour, - was the emigration of nearly 7000 Bulgarian families, whom we - took with us as a reminder of the ferocity of the Turks: a - ferocity in which, in spite of my incredulity, I was obliged - to believe. As soon as we quitted the different Bulgarian - villages we had occupied, the Turks returned to them, and - except women young enough for a harem, they made a clean sweep - of all that was in them. There was one village to which I went - from the camp for milk and fruit, which had been exterminated - in this way. So, as soon as the Prince let the Bulgarians - know that those who wished to, could cross the Danube with - our army and could become Russian subjects, the whole country - rose, and with their wives, children, horses and cattle, came - to the bridge: but as it was impossible to take them all, the - Prince was obliged to refuse the last arrivals, and you should - have seen how it grieved him to do so. He received all the - deputations which came from these poor folk, and spoke with - them all: trying to explain the impossibility of the matter, - offering to let them cross without their carts and cattle, - charging himself with their support till they could reach - Russia, and out of his own purse paying for private ships to - transport them; in a word, doing his very best for the welfare - of these people. - - Yes, dear Aunt, I should much like your prophecy to come true. - What I desire most is to be aide-de-camp to such a man as he, - whom I love and esteem from the bottom of my heart. Adieu, - dear and kind Aunt. I kiss your hands. - -The army retired to Bucharest, and here, at an officers' ball, Tolstoy -seized an opportunity to beg Gortchakof to have him transferred to -where service would be most active. - -The retreat from Silistria took place at the end of June, and on 2nd -August we find Tolstoy starting for Russia. On the journey he fell ill -and had to lie up in hospital. On 13th November in Kishinef he renewed -his application for an appointment in the Crimea, and was ordered to -Sevastopol, which he reached on the 20th of that month.[17] - - [17] In this chapter the dates, when possible, are given new - style (12 days later than the Russian style), in order that - they may tally with English accounts of the Crimean war. - - -1854 - -The situation there, at this time, was the following. The Allies had -landed in the Crimea to the north of Sevastopol on 14th September, -and had defeated the Russian army under Menshikof on the 20th at -Alma. Instead of marching straight into the town, which was almost -undefended, they had then gone round and encamped on the south side, -where they remained inactive till 17th October, by which time Todleben, -an engineer of rare genius, had thrown up earthworks and mounted -guns (many of them taken from the Russian ships Menshikof sank at -the entrance to the Roadstead). Menshikof himself had practically -abandoned the town, withdrawing the bulk of his army northward; but -the situation was saved by the patriotism of just that section of the -Russian forces which had been least exposed to the deadening influence -of Nicholas the First's militarism,--namely by the officers and men -of the fleet. Inspired by the example of the heroic Admiral Kornilof -(who lost his life during the siege) they rallied to the defence with a -courageous devotion seldom paralleled. Their example awoke enthusiasm -throughout Russia and compelled Menshikof to supply reinforcements, -which enabled the town to hold out for eleven months, in spite of the -great superiority of the Allies in rifles, artillery and the modern -equipments of war generally. - -Tolstoy reached Sevastopol when the defence was already fully -organised, and when (in spite of the repulse experienced by the -Russians at Inkerman) the garrison had gained confidence in their -powers of resistance, and had settled down to a dogged defence. - -Of the hospitals, in which the wounded saw one another's limbs -amputated while waiting their own turn; of the staff officers, who -managed to amuse themselves pretty well during the siege; of the -commissariat officers, flourishing amid the general havoc; as well as -of the line and non-commissioned officers and privates, upon whom the -greatest hardships fell, Tolstoy gives vivid glimpses in the Sketches -he wrote during the siege. - -A fortnight after his arrival he writes, from somewhere outside the -town, to his brother Sergius, apologising for not having sent him a -letter sooner, and adds: - - So much have I learnt, experienced, and felt this year that I - positively do not know what to begin to describe, nor how to - describe it as I wish to.... Silistria is now ancient history, and - we have Sevastopol, of which I suppose you all read with beating - hearts, and where I was four days ago. Well, how can I tell you - all I saw there, and where I went and what I did, and what the - prisoners and wounded French and English say; and _whether it hurts - them and hurts very much_,[18] and what heroes our enemies are, - especially the English? I will tell all that later at Yasnaya or at - Pirogovo; and you will learn much of it from me through the press. - How this will happen, I will explain later; but now let me give - you an idea of the position of affairs in Sevastopol. The town is - besieged from one side, the south, where we had no fortifications - when the enemy approached it. Now we have on that side more than - 500 heavy guns, and several lines of earthworks, positively - impregnable. I spent a week in the fortress, and to the last day - used to lose my way among that labyrinth of batteries, as in a - wood. More than three weeks ago the enemy advanced his trenches at - one place to within 200 yards, but gets no further. When he makes - the smallest advance he is overwhelmed with a hailstorm of shot and - shell. - - [18] This must refer to some family joke, as it occurs in - other letters home, apropos of people who were killed. - - The spirit of the army is beyond all description. In the times of - ancient Greece there was not such heroism. Kornilof, making the - round of the troops, instead of greeting them with, 'Good health to - you, lads!' says: 'If you have to die, lads, will you die?' and the - troops shout, 'We'll die, Your Excellency! Hurrah!' and they do not - say it for effect. On every face one saw that it was not jest but - earnest; and 22,000 men have already fulfilled the promise. - - A wounded soldier, almost dying, told me they captured the 24th - French Battery but were not reinforced; and he wept aloud. A - Company of Marines nearly mutinied because they were to be - withdrawn from batteries in which they had been exposed to - shell-fire for thirty days. The soldiers extract the fuses from - the shells. Women carry water to the bastions for the soldiers. - Many are killed and wounded. The priests with their crosses go - to the bastions and read prayers under fire. In one brigade, the - 24th, more than 160 wounded men would not leave the front. It is - a wonderful time! Now, however, after the 24th, we have quieted - down; it has become splendid in Sevastopol. The enemy hardly - fires, and all are convinced that he will not take the town; and - it is really impossible.... I have not yet succeeded in being in - action even once; but thank God that I have seen these people - and live in this glorious time. The bombardment of the 5th [17 - October, n.s.] remains the most brilliant and glorious feat not - only in the history of Russia, but in the history of the world. - More than 1500 cannon were in action for two days against the - town, and not only did not cause it to capitulate, but did not - silence one two-hundredth part of our batteries. Though, I suppose, - this campaign is unfavourably regarded in Russia, our descendants - will place it above all others; do not forget that we, with equal - or even inferior forces, and armed only with bayonets, and with - the worst troops in the Russian army (such as the 6th corps) are - fighting a more numerous enemy aided by a fleet, armed with 3000 - cannon, excellently supplied with rifles and with their best - troops. I do not even mention the superiority of their Generals. - - Only our army could hold its ground and conquer (we shall yet - conquer, of that I am convinced) under such circumstances. You - should see the French and English prisoners (especially the - latter): they are each one better than the other--morally and - physically fine fellows. The Cossacks say it is even a pity to cut - them down, and alongside of them you should see some Chasseurs or - others of ours: small, lousy, and shrivelled up. - - Now I will tell you how you will get printed news from me of the - deeds of these lousy and shrivelled heroes. In our artillery - staff, consisting, as I think I wrote you, of very good and - worthy men, a project has been started for publishing a military - newspaper, in order to maintain a good spirit in the army--a cheap - paper (at Rs. 3) and popularly written, so that the soldiers may - read it. We have drawn up a plan and submitted it to the Prince. - He likes the idea very much, and has submitted the project and a - specimen sheet which we also wrote, for the Emperor's sanction. - I and Stolypin[19] are advancing the money for the publication. - I have been chosen joint editor with a Mr. Konstantinof, who - published _The Caucasus_, a man experienced in such work. The paper - will publish descriptions of the battles (but not such dry and - mendacious ones as other papers) courageous deeds, biographies, and - obituaries of good men, especially the unknown; military stories, - soldiers' songs, and popular articles on engineering, artillery, - etc. This plan pleases me very much: in the first place, I like the - work; and secondly, I hope the paper will be useful and not quite - bad. It is as yet merely a project, until we know the Emperor's - reply, about which I confess I have my fears. In the specimen sheet - sent to Petersburg, we rashly inserted two articles, one by me and - one by Rostovtsef, not quite orthodox. For this business I want Rs. - 1500, which I have asked Valeryan to send me. - - [19] Father of the present (1908) Premier of Russia. - - I, thank God, am well, and live happily and pleasantly since I - returned from Turkey. In general, my army service divides up into - two periods: beyond the frontier--horrid: I was ill, poor, and - lonely. This side of the frontier--I am well and have good friends, - though I am still poor: money simply runs away. - - As to writing, I do not write; but, as Aunty teases me by saying, - 'I test myself.' One thing disquiets me: this is the fourth year - I live without female society; and I may become quite coarse and - unsuited for family life, which I so enjoy. - -A few days later his battery was moved to Simferopol, a town lying to -the north of Sevastopol, beyond the sphere of actual fighting. - - -1855 - -On 6th January (o.s.) he wrote to his Aunt: - - [20]On ne se bat plus en rase campagne, a cause de l'hiver qui est - extraordinairement rigoureux, surtout a present; mais le siege - dure toujours.... J'avais parle je crois d'une occupation que - j'avais en vue et qui me souriait beaucoup; a present que la chose - est decidee, je puis le dire. J'avais l'idee de fonder un journal - militaire. Ce projet auquel j'ai travaille avec le concours de - beaucoup de gens tres distingues fut approuve par le prince et - envoye a la decision de sa Majeste, mais l'empereur a refuse. - - Cette deconfiture, je vous l'avoue, m'a fait une peine infinie et a - beaucoup change mes plans. Si Dieu veut que la campagne de Crimee - finisse bien et si je ne recois pas une place dont je sois content, - et qu'il n'y ait pas de guerre en Russie, je quitterai l'armee pour - aller a Petersbourg a l'academie militaire. Ce plan m'est venu, - 1re parce que je voudrais ne pas abandonner la litterature dont il - m'est impossible de m'occuper dans cette vie de camp, et 2e parce - qu'il me parait que je commence a devenir ambitieux, pas ambitieux, - mais je voudrais faire du bien et pour le faire il faut etre plus - qu'un Sub-Lieutenant; 3e parce que je vous verrai tous et tous mes - amis. - - [20] There is no more fighting in the open country on account - of the winter, which is extraordinarily rigorous, particularly - just now; but the siege still goes on.... I think I have - mentioned an occupation I had in view, which promised very - well--as I may say, now that it is settled. I had the idea of - founding a military newspaper. This project, at which I worked - with the co-operation of many very distinguished men, was - approved by the Prince and submitted to His Majesty for his - consent, but he has refused. - - This disappointment has, I confess, distressed me greatly, - and has much altered my plans. If God wills that the - Crimean campaign should end well, and if I do not receive - an appointment that satisfies me, and if there is no war in - Russia, I shall leave the army and go to Petersburg to the - Military Academy. I have formed this plan, (1) because I do - not want to abandon literature, at which it is impossible to - work amid this camp life; (2) because it seems to me that I am - becoming ambitious: not ambitious, but I want to do some good, - and to do it one must be something more than a Sub-Lieutenant, - and (3) because I shall see you all and all my friends. - -In May he wrote again to his brother: - - From Kishinef on 1st November (o.s.), I petitioned to be sent to - the Crimea, partly in order to see this war, and partly to break - away from Serzhpoutovsky's staff, which I did not like, but most - of all from patriotism, of which at that time, I confess, I had a - bad attack. I did not ask for any special appointment, but left - it to those in authority to dispose of my fate. In the Crimea I - was appointed to a battery in Sevastopol itself, where I passed - a month very pleasantly amid simple, good companions, who are - specially good in time of real war and danger. In December our - battery was removed to Simferopol, and there I spent 6 weeks in a - squire's comfortable house, riding into Simferopol to dance and - play the piano with young ladies, and in hunting wild goats on the - Tchatyrdag [the highest point of the chain of mountains running - across the southern part of the Crimea] in company with officials. - In January there was a fresh shuffling of officers, and I was - removed to a battery encamped on the banks of the Belbek, 7 miles - from Sevastopol. There I got into hot water: the nastiest set of - officers in the battery; a Commander who, though good-hearted, was - violent and coarse; no comforts, and it was cold in the earth huts. - Not a single book, nor a single man with whom one could talk; and - there I received the Rs. 1500 [= about L180 at that time] for the - newspaper, sanction for which had already been refused; and there I - lost Rs. 2500, and thereby proved to all the world that I am still - an empty fellow, and though the previous circumstances may be taken - into account in mitigation, the case is still a very, very bad one. - In March it became warmer, and a good fellow, an excellent man, - Brenevsky, joined the battery. I began to recover myself; and on 1 - April, at the very time of the bombardment, the battery was moved - to Sevastopol, and I quite recovered myself. There, till 15 May - (o.s.) I was in serious danger, _i.e._ for four days at a time, at - intervals of eight days, I was in charge of a battery in the 4th - Bastion; but it was spring and the weather was excellent, there was - abundance of impressions and of people, all the comforts of life, - and we formed a capital circle of well-bred fellows; so that those - six weeks will remain among my pleasantest recollections. On 15 - May Gortchakof, or the Commander of the Artillery, took it into his - head to entrust me with the formation and command of a mountain - platoon at Belbek, 14 miles from Sevastopol, with which arrangement - I am up to the present extremely well satisfied in many respects. - -The transfer of Tolstoy from Sevastopol to Belbek was not, as he -supposed when he wrote this letter, a whim of Gortchakof's or of the -Commander of the Artillery, but a result of his having written the -first of his three sketches of the siege of Sevastopol, _Sevastopol in -December_. The article, though not published in the _Contemporary_ till -June, had been read in proof by the Emperor Alexander II [Nicholas had -died 2nd March, n.s.], and had caused him to give instructions to 'take -care of the life of that young man,' with the result that Tolstoy was -removed from Sevastopol. The Dowager Empress Alexandra Fedorovna also -read the story and, it is said, wept over it. - -It was, perhaps, at this time (though I am not sure of the date) that -Tolstoy found himself obliged to consent to the sale of the large -wooden house in which he had been born, for the wretched price of 5000 -'assignation roubles' (about L170). The house was taken to pieces, and -removed to the estate of the purchaser, where it still stands, though -not now in use. - -Apropos of the above letter it should be mentioned that the Fourth -Bastion was the one English writers call 'the Flagstaff Bastion.' It -formed the southernmost point of the fortifications, as a glance at -the accompanying map will show, and it was for a long time the point -exposed to the fiercest fire. - -Throughout the siege Tolstoy was accompanied by Alexis, one of the four -serfs presented to the young Tolstoys when they entered the University. -This man (who figures in more than one of Tolstoy's works under -the name of Alyosha) brought him his rations to the bastion, a duty -involving considerable danger. What the bastions were like in the first -months of the siege, we learn from the following passages in the first -part of _Sevastopol_: - -[Illustration] - - ...You want to get quickly to the bastions, especially to that - Fourth Bastion about which you have been told so many and such - different tales. When any one says, 'I am going to the Fourth - Bastion,' a slight agitation or a too marked indifference is always - noticeable in him; if men are joking they say, 'You should be - sent to the Fourth Bastion.' When you meet some one carried on a - stretcher, and ask, 'Where from?' the answer usually is, 'From the - Fourth Bastion.'... - - ...Beyond this barricade the houses on both sides of the street - are unoccupied: there are no signboards, the doors are boarded - up, the windows smashed; here a corner of the walls is knocked - down, and there a roof is broken in. The buildings look like old - veterans who have borne much sorrow and privation; they even seem - to gaze proudly and somewhat contemptuously at you. On the road - you stumble over cannon-balls that lie about, and into holes full - of water, made in the stony ground by bombs. You meet and overtake - detachments of soldiers, Cossacks, officers, and occasionally a - woman or a child--only it will not be a woman wearing a bonnet, but - a sailor's wife wearing an old cloak and soldier's boots. Farther - along the same street, after you have descended a little slope, you - will notice that there are now no houses, but only ruined walls in - strange heaps of bricks, boards, clay and beams, and before you, - up a steep hill, you see a black untidy space cut up by ditches. - This space you are approaching is the Fourth Bastion.... Here you - will meet still fewer people and no women at all, the soldiers - walk briskly by, traces of blood may be seen on the road, and - you are sure to meet four soldiers carrying a stretcher, and on - the stretcher probably a pale, yellow face and a blood-stained - overcoat.... - - The whiz of cannon-ball or bomb near by, impresses you unpleasantly - as you ascend the hill, and you at once understand the meaning - of the sounds very differently from when they reached you in the - town.... You have hardly gone a little way up, when bullets begin - to whiz past you right and left, and you will perhaps consider - whether you had not better walk inside the trench which runs - parallel to the road; but the trench is full of such yellow, - liquid, stinking mud, more than knee deep, that you are sure to - choose the road, especially as _everybody_ keeps to the road. - After walking a couple of hundred yards, you come to a muddy - place much cut up, surrounded by gabions, cellars, platforms, and - dug-outs, and on which large cast-iron cannon are mounted, and - cannon-balls lie piled in orderly heaps. All seems placed without - any aim, connection, or order. Here a group of sailors are sitting - in the battery; here, in the middle of the open space, half sunk - in mud, lies a shattered cannon; and there a foot-soldier is - crossing the battery, drawing his feet with difficulty out of - the sticky mud. Everywhere, on all sides and all about, you see - bomb-fragments, unexploded bombs, cannon-balls, and various traces - of an encampment, all sunk in the liquid, sticky mud. You think you - hear the thud of a cannon-ball not far off, and you seem to hear - the different sounds of bullets all around--some humming like bees, - some whistling, and some rapidly flying past with a shrill screech - like the string of some instrument. You hear the awful boom of a - shot which sends a shock all through you, and seems most dreadful. - - 'So this is it, the Fourth Bastion! This is that terrible, truly - dreadful spot!' So you think, experiencing a slight feeling - of pride and a strong feeling of suppressed fear. But you are - mistaken; this is still not the Fourth Bastion. This is only the - Yazonovsky Redoubt--comparatively a very safe and not at all - dreadful place. To get to the Fourth Bastion you must turn to the - right, along that narrow trench, where a foot-soldier, stooping - down, has just passed. In this trench you may again meet men with - stretchers, and perhaps a sailor or a soldier with spades. You - will see the mouths of mines, dug-outs into which only two men - can crawl, and there you will see the Cossacks of the Black Sea - Battalions, changing their boots, eating, smoking their pipes, and, - in short, living. And you will see again the same stinking mud, - the traces of camp life, and cast-iron refuse of every shape and - form. When you have gone some three hundred steps more, you come - out at another battery--a flat space with many holes, surrounded - with gabions filled with earth, and cannons on platforms, and the - whole walled in with earthworks. Here you will perhaps see four or - five soldiers playing cards under shelter of the breastworks; and - a naval officer, noticing that you are a stranger and inquisitive, - is pleased to show you his 'household' and everything that can - interest you.... He will tell you (but only if you ask) about the - bombardment on the 5th of October; will tell you how only one gun - in his battery remained usable and only eight gunners were left of - the whole crew, and how, all the same, next morning, the 6th, he - fired all his guns. He will tell you how a bomb dropped into one of - the dug-outs and knocked over eleven sailors; he will show you from - an embrasure the enemy's batteries and trenches, which are here not - more than seventy-five to eighty-five yards distant. I am afraid, - though, that when you lean out of the embrasure to have a look at - the enemy, you will, under the influence of the whizzing bullets, - not see anything; but if you do see anything, you will be much - surprised to find that this whitish stone wall which is so near - you, and from which puffs of white smoke keep bursting--that this - white wall is the enemy: is _him_, as the soldiers and sailors say. - - It is even very likely that the naval officer, from vanity, - or merely for a little recreation, will wish to show you some - firing. 'Call the gunner and crew to the cannon'; and fourteen - sailors--clattering their hob-nailed boots on the platform, - one putting his pipe in his pocket, another still chewing a - rusk--quickly and cheerfully man the gun and begin loading. - - Suddenly the most fearful roar strikes not only your ears but your - whole being, and makes you shudder all over. It is followed by the - whistle of the departing ball, and a thick cloud of powder-smoke - envelops you, the platform, and the moving black figures of the - sailors. You will hear various comments by the sailors concerning - this shot of ours, and you will notice their animation, the - evidences of a feeling which you had not perhaps expected: the - feeling of animosity and thirst for vengeance which lies hidden - in each man's soul. You will hear joyful exclamations: 'It's gone - right into the embrasure! It's killed two, I think.... There, - they're carrying them off!' 'And now _he's_ riled, and will send - one this way,' some one remarks; and really, soon after, you will - see before you a flash and some smoke; the sentinel standing on the - breastwork will call out 'Ca-n-non,' and then a ball will whiz past - you and squash into the earth, throwing out a circle of stones and - mud. The commander of the battery will be irritated by this shot - and will give orders to fire another and another cannon, the enemy - will reply in like manner, and you will experience interesting - sensations and see interesting sights. The sentinel will again call - 'Cannon!' and you will have the same sound and shock, and the mud - will be splashed round as before. Or he will call out 'Mortar!' and - you will hear the regular and rather pleasant whistle--which it is - difficult to connect with the thought of anything dreadful--of a - bomb; you will hear this whistle coming nearer and faster towards - you, then you will see a black ball, feel the shock as it strikes - the ground, and will hear the ringing explosion. The bomb will fly - apart into whizzing and shrieking fragments, stones will rattle - into the air, and you will be bespattered with mud. - - At these sounds you will experience a strange feeling of mingled - pleasure and fear. At the moment you know the shot is flying - towards you, you are sure to imagine that this shot will kill you, - but a feeling of pride will support you and no one will know of the - knife that is cutting your heart. But when the shot has flown past - and has not hit you, you revive, and, though only for a moment, a - glad, inexpressibly joyous feeling seizes you, so that you feel - some peculiar delight in the danger--in this game of life and - death--and wish that bombs and balls would fall nearer and nearer - to you. - - But again the sentinel, in his loud, thick voice, shouts 'Mortar!' - again a whistle, a fall, an explosion; and mingled with the last - you are startled by the groans of a man. You approach the wounded - man just as the stretchers are brought. Covered with blood and dirt - he presents a strange, not human, appearance. Part of the sailor's - breast has been torn away.... - - 'That's the way with seven or eight every day,' the naval officer - remarks to you, answering the look of horror on your face, and he - yawns as he rolls another yellow cigarette. - -As the siege progressed, things became worse, and in the last part of -_Sevastopol_ Tolstoy, after telling how one of the characters felt -satisfied with himself, continues: - - This feeling, however, was quickly shaken by a sight he came upon - in the twilight while looking for the Commander of the bastion. - Four sailors stood by the breastwork holding by its arms and legs - the bloody corpse of a man without boots or coat, swinging it - before heaving it over. (It was found impossible in some parts to - clear away the corpses from the bastions, and they were, therefore, - thrown out into the ditch, so as not to be in the way at the - batteries.) Volodya felt stunned for a moment when he saw the body - bump on the top of the breastwork and then roll down into the - ditch, but luckily for him the Commander of the bastion met him - just then and gave him his orders, as well as a guide to show him - the way to the battery and to the bomb-proof assigned to his men. - We will not speak of all the dangers and disenchantments our hero - lived through that evening; how--instead of the firing he was used - to, amid conditions of perfect exactitude and order which he had - expected to meet with here also,--he found two injured mortars, - one with its mouth battered in by a ball, the other standing on - the splinters of its shattered platform; how he could not get - workmen to mend the platform till the morning; how not a single - charge was of the weight specified in the Handbook; how two of the - men under him were wounded, and how he was twenty times within a - hair's-breadth of death. Fortunately a gigantic gunner, a seaman - who had served with the mortars since the commencement of the - siege, had been appointed to assist Volodya, and convinced him of - the possibility of using the mortars. By the light of a lantern, - this gunner showed him all over the battery as he might have shown - him over his own kitchen-garden, and undertook to have everything - right by the morning. The bomb-proof to which his guide led him - was an oblong hole dug in the rocky ground, 25 cubic yards in size - and covered with oak beams nearly 2-1/2 feet thick. He and all his - soldiers installed themselves in it. - -It was during one of his sojourns in the Fourth Bastion, that Tolstoy -noted down in his Diary the following prayer: - - Lord, I thank Thee for Thy continual protection. How surely Thou - leadest me to what is good. What an insignificant creature should - I be, if Thou abandoned me! Leave me not, Lord; give me what is - necessary, not for the satisfaction of my poor aspirations, but - that I may attain to the eternal, vast, unknown aim of existence, - which lies beyond my ken. - -It was due to Tolstoy's own choice that he was exposed to the rough -life of the bastion, for Prince Gortchakof, at whose house he was a -constant visitor, had offered him an appointment on his staff. This -offer, which at Silistria he had so ardently desired, Tolstoy declined, -having come to the conclusion, subsequently expressed in his writings, -that the influence exercised by the staff on the conduct of a war -is always pernicious! This opinion not only influenced his conduct, -and expressed itself in his novels, but fitted into a general view -of life he ultimately arrived at, a view the consequences of which -must be dealt with in the sequel to this work. For the moment, let -it suffice to mention that whereas he shows a keen appreciation of -Admiral Kornilof's achievement in rousing the spirit of the garrison, -he nowhere praises Todleben's achievement in organising the defence of -the town and improvising that 'labyrinth of batteries' in which Tolstoy -used constantly to lose his way. He says, for instance: - - Now you have seen the defenders of Sevastopol.... The principal, - joyous thought you have brought away is a conviction of the - strength of the Russian people; and this conviction you gained, - not by looking at all these traverses, breastworks, cunningly - interlaced trenches, mines and cannon, one on top of another, - of which you could make nothing; but from the eyes, words and - actions--in short, from seeing what is called the 'spirit' of the - defenders of Sevastopol. - -To everything a man can do off his own bat and by his own effort, -Tolstoy is keenly alive and sympathetic; but when it comes to a -complex, co-ordinated plan, involving the subordination of many parts -to one whole, he is suspicious or even hostile. Had he remained a -subordinate officer, or even a novelist, it would not have been -specially necessary to draw attention to this peculiarity; but that -we may understand his later teachings, it is important to note all the -roots of feeling from which they grew, and this one among the rest. - -To get on however with our tale. One evening, while Tolstoy was sitting -with the adjutants of Count Osten-Saken, Commander of the Garrison, -Prince S. S. Ourousof, a brave officer and first-rate chess player (he -took part in the International Chess Tournament of 1862, in London) -and a friend of Tolstoy's, entered the room and wished to speak to -the General. An adjutant took him to Osten-Saken's room, and ten -minutes later Ourousof passed out again, looking very glum. After he -had gone, the adjutant explained that Ourousof had come to suggest -that a challenge should be sent to the English to play a game of chess -for the foremost trench in front of the Fifth Bastion: a trench that -had changed hands several times and had already cost some hundreds of -lives. Osten-Saken had naturally refused to issue the challenge. - -On 16th August Tolstoy took part in the battle of the Tchernaya (Black -River) in which the Sardinian contingent, which had arrived in May to -reinforce the Allies, much distinguished itself. This last attempt to -relieve Sevastopol failed, as its forerunners had done. Three days -later Tolstoy wrote to his brother saying that he had not been hurt, -and that 'I did nothing, as my mountain artillery was not called on to -fire.' - -The end of the siege was now approaching, and on 8th September Tolstoy, -having volunteered for service in Sevastopol, reached the Star Fort on -the North Side of the Roadstead just in time to witness the capture -of the Malahof by the French, as he has described in _Sevastopol in -August_.[21] - - [21] The _8th September_, new style, was _24th August_, old - style. - - On the North Side of the Roadstead, at the Star Fort, near noon, - two sailors stood on the 'telegraph' mound; one of them, an - officer, was looking at Sevastopol through the fixed telescope. - Another officer, accompanied by a Cossack, had just ridden up - to join him at the big Signal-post.... Along the whole line of - fortifications, but especially on the high ground on the left side, - appeared, several at a time, with lightnings that at times flashed - bright even in the noonday sun, puffs of thick, dense, white smoke, - that grew, taking various shapes and appearing darker against the - sky. These clouds, showing now here now there, appeared on the - hills, on the enemy's batteries, in the town, and high up in the - sky. The reports of explosions never ceased, but rolled together - and rent the air. - - Towards noon the puffs appeared more and more rarely, and the air - vibrated less with the booming. - - 'I say, the Second Bastion does not reply at all now!' said the - officer on horseback; 'it is quite knocked to pieces. Terrible!' - - 'Yes, and the Malahof, too, sends hardly one shot in reply to three - of theirs,' said he who was looking through the telescope. 'Their - silence provokes me! They are shooting straight into the Kornilof - Battery, and it does not reply.' - - 'But look there! I told you that they always cease the bombardment - about noon. It's the same to-day. Come, let's go to lunch; they'll - be waiting for us already. What's the good of looking?' - - 'Wait a bit!' answered the one who had possession of the telescope, - looking very eagerly towards Sevastopol. - - 'What is it? What?' - - 'A movement in the entrenchments, thick columns advancing.' - - 'Yes! They can be seen even without a glass, marching in columns. - The alarm must be given,' said the seaman. - - 'Look! look! They've left the trenches!' - - And, really, with the naked eye one could see what looked like - dark spots moving down the hill from the French batteries across - the valley to the bastions. In front of these spots dark stripes - were already visibly approaching our line. On the bastions white - cloudlets burst in succession as if chasing one another. The wind - brought a sound of rapid small-arm firing, like the beating of - rain against a window. The dark stripes were moving in the midst - of the smoke and came nearer and nearer. The sounds of firing, - growing stronger and stronger, mingled in a prolonged, rumbling - peal. Puffs of smoke rose more and more often, spread rapidly along - the line, and at last formed one lilac cloud (dotted here and there - with little faint lights and black spots) which kept curling and - uncurling; and all the sounds blent into one tremendous clatter. - - 'An assault!' said the naval officer, turning pale and letting the - seaman look through the telescope. - - Cossacks galloped along the road, some officers rode by, the - Commander-in-Chief passed in a carriage with his suite. Every face - showed painful excitement and expectation. - - 'It's impossible they can have taken it,' said the mounted officer. - - 'By God, a standard!... Look! look!' said the other, panting, - and he walked away from the telescope: 'A French standard on the - Malahof!' - -The point from which the officer in the story, and Tolstoy himself in -reality, watched the assault through a telescope is the spot marked 'a' -on the map on page 112. - -The loss of the Malahof rendered the further defence of the town -impossible, and the following night the Russians blew up and destroyed -such munitions of war as they could not remove from the bastions. -Tolstoy was deputed to clear the Fifth and Sixth Bastions before they -were abandoned to the Allies. When telling me this he added, 'The -non-commissioned officers could have done the work just as well without -me.' While the destruction was proceeding, the Russian forces crossed -the Roadstead by a pontoon bridge which had been constructed during the -siege. The town south of the Roadstead was abandoned, and the defenders -established themselves on the North Side, where they remained till -peace was concluded in February 1856. - -After the retreat, Tolstoy was given the task of collating the twenty -or more reports of the action from the Artillery Commanders. This -experience of how war is recorded produced in him that supreme contempt -for detailed military histories which he so often expressed in later -years. He says: - - I regret that I did not keep a copy of those reports. They were - an excellent example of that naive, inevitable kind of military - falsehood, out of which descriptions are compiled. I think many of - those comrades of mine who drew up those reports, will laugh on - reading these lines, remembering how, by order of their Commander, - they wrote what they could not know. - -Carrying among other despatches the report he had himself compiled, -Tolstoy was sent as Courier to Petersburg; and this terminated his -personal experience of war. He was still only Sub-Lieutenant, his hopes -of promotion had come to nothing in consequence of a suspicion that -he was the author of some soldiers' songs which were sung throughout -the army at this time. No translation can do justice to these slangy, -topical satires; but that the reader may have some idea of them, my -wife has put into English the following stanzas: - - In September, the eighth day,[22] - From the French we ran away, - For our Faith and Tsar! - For our Faith and Tsar! - - Admiral Alexander,[23] he - Sank our vessels in the sea - In the waters deep, - In the waters deep. - - 'Luck to all I wish,' he said then. - To Baktchiseray[24] he sped then; - 'May you all be blowed! - 'May you all be blowed!' - - Saint Arnaud[25] got out of sight; - And in manner most polite, - Came round to our back, - Came round to our back. - - And on Tuesday, I'm afraid - Had no saint come to our aid, - He'd have bagged us all, - He'd have bagged us all. - - Our Liprandi, it is true - Captured 'trenchments not a few, - But to no avail! - But to no avail! - - Out of Kishinef a force - Was expected: Foot and Horse, - And at last they came, - And at last they came. - - Dannenberg was in command: - Strictly told to understand - Not to spare his men, - Not to spare his men. - - * * * * * - - Two Grand Dukes a visit paid: - But the French, quite undismayed, - Blazed away with shells, - Blazed away with shells. - - Some ten thousand men were shot: - From the Tsar _they_ never got - Any great reward! - Any great reward! - - Then the Prince[26] in anger spoke: - 'Oh! our men are wretched folk: - 'Why, they've turned their backs! - 'Why, they've turned their backs!' - - And in this great battle's flare - Heroes only two there were: - The two Royal Dukes! - The two Royal Dukes! - - George's Crosses they were given - And to Petersburg were driven - To be feted there! - To be feted there! - - All the priests with heads bent down - Prayed our God the French to drown, - And there came a storm, - And there came a storm! - - There arose a dreadful gale, - But the French just shortened sail, - And remained afloat! - And remained afloat! - - Winter came. Sorties we made; - Many soldiers low were laid, - Near those bags of sand, - Near those bags of sand.[27] - - For re'nforcements Menshik prayed; - But the Tsar sent to his aid - Only Osten-Saken, - Only Osten-Saken.[28] - - Menshik, Admiral so wise, - To the Tsar writes and replies: - 'Oh, dear Father Tsar, - 'Oh, dear Father Tsar. - - 'Saken is not worth a grain, - And your Royal youngsters twain[29] - They're no good at all! - They're no good at all!' - - Royal wrath on Menshik fell, - And the Tsar felt quite unwell - At the next review, - At the next review. - - Straight to heaven he did fare - (Seems they wanted him up there) - Not a whit too soon, - Not a whit too soon! - - As on his deathbed he lay; - To his son[30] he this did say: - 'Now just you look out, - 'Now just you look out!' - - And the son to Menshik wrote: - 'My dear Admiral, please note, - You may go to hell, - You may go to hell!' - - 'And in place of you I'll name - Gortchakof, you know, the same - Who fought 'gainst the Turks! - Who fought 'gainst the Turks!' - - 'With few troops he'll go ahead, - And a pair of breeches red - Shall be his reward, - Shall be his reward!' - - [22] The Battle of Alma, fought on 8th September, old style = - 20th September, new style. - - [23] Prince Alexander Menshikof, who was Commander-in-Chief - in the Crimea till replaced by Gortchakof. Besides being - diplomatist and General, he was also an Admiral. In the other - verses he is nicknamed 'Menshik.' - - [24] After the Battle of Alma, Menshikof retreated northward - to Baktchiseray, almost abandoning Sevastopol. - - [25] Saint Arnaud, the French Commander-in-Chief. - - [26] Prince Alexander Menshikof. - - [27] Bags of sand were used as temporary protection from - behind which to fire. - - [28] Count Osten-Saken was sent to advise Menshikof and to - report to the Tsar on his operations. - - [29] The Grand Dukes alluded to above. - - [30] Alexander II, who succeeded Nicholas I on 2nd March - (n.s.) 1855. - -As a matter of fact the responsibility for these songs, which gave -satirical expression to the discontent then very generally felt, was -not entirely Tolstoy's. They originated with a group of officers on -the staff of Kryzhanovsky, Commander of the Artillery, and some others -(including Tolstoy) who used to meet at Kryzhanovsky's rooms almost -daily. One of this company used to preside at the piano, while the -others stood round and improvised couplets. In such cases some one has -usually to pay the piper, and that this one should have been Tolstoy, -was a natural result both of the fact that he seems to have been the -chief culprit, and of the attention his literary work was attracting at -this time. - -Another matter which appears to have done Tolstoy no good in the eyes -of his superiors, was his refusal to fall in with a reprehensible -practice which by long usage had become as well established as, for -instance, among ourselves, is the purchase of peerages by contributions -to Party funds. - -Those in command of various divisions of the army, including the -Commanders of Batteries, used to pay for various things, such as shoes -for the horses, medicine, office expenses, and certain extras for the -soldiers, for which no official allowance was made; and the way the -money for this was obtained was by overestimating the cost and quantity -of stores, and of the fodder required for the horses. The difference -between the actual and estimated cost supplied a revenue which -different Commanders used in different ways. Some spent it all for the -good of the service, though in a manner not shown in the accounts; -others did not scruple to make private profit of it. Tolstoy, during -his command of a battery, refused to take a balance of cash which had -accumulated, and insisted on showing it in the accounts. He thereby -evoked the displeasure of less scrupulous Commanders and called down -upon himself a rebuke from General Kryzhanovsky, who did not consider -that it lay with a Sub-Lieutenant in temporary command, to attempt to -upset so well-established a custom. From his letters and memoirs we get -clear indications of Tolstoy's feelings towards his brother officers; -his distaste for the common run of them, and his preference for those -who were gentlemanly. Here and there, in memoirs and magazine articles, -one finds records of the impression he in his turn produced on his -companions. One of them relates: - - How Tolstoy woke us all up in those hard times of war, with his - stories and his hastily composed couplets! He was really the soul - of our battery. When he was with us we did not notice how time - flew, and there was no end to the general gaiety.... When the Count - was away, when he trotted off to Simferopol, we all hung our heads. - He would vanish for one, two or three days.... At last he would - return--the very picture of a prodigal son! sombre, worn out, and - dissatisfied with himself.... Then he would take me aside, quite - apart, and would begin his confessions. He would tell me all: how - he had caroused, gambled, and where he had spent his days and - nights; and all the time, if you will believe me, he would condemn - himself and suffer as though he were a real criminal. He was so - distressed that it was pitiful to see him. That's the sort of man - he was. In a word, a queer fellow, and, to tell the truth, one I - could not quite understand. He was however a rare comrade, a most - honourable fellow, and a man one can never forget! - -One who entered the battery just after Tolstoy left it, says he was -remembered there as an excellent rider, first-rate company, and an -athlete who, lying on the floor, could let a man weighing thirteen -stone be placed on his hands, and could lift him up by straightening -his arms. At a tug-of-war (played not with a rope, but with a stick) -no one could beat him; and he left behind him the recollection of many -witty anecdotes told in that masterly style of which he never lost the -knack. - -His private Diary bears witness to the constantly renewed struggle that -went on within him, as well as to his profound dissatisfaction with -himself. Here, for instance, is an estimate entered in his Diary at the -commencement of the war, while he was still at Silistria: - - I have no modesty. That is my great defect. What am I? One of four - sons of a retired lieutenant-colonel, left at seven years of age - an orphan under the guardianship of women and strangers; having - neither a social nor a scholarly education, and becoming my own - master at seventeen; with no large means, no social position, - and, above all, without principle; a man who has disorganised - his own affairs to the last extremity, and has passed the best - years of his life without aim or pleasure; and finally who having - banished himself to the Caucasus to escape his debts and more - especially his bad habits--and having there availed himself of some - connection that had existed between his father and the general - in command--passed to the army of the Danube at twenty-six, as - a Sub-Lieutenant almost without means except his pay (for what - means he has he ought to employ to pay what he still owes) without - influential friends, ignorant of how to live in society, ignorant - of the service, lacking practical capacity, but with immense - self-esteem--such is my social position. Let us see what I myself - am like. - - I am ugly, awkward, uncleanly, and lack society education. I - am irritable, a bore to others, not modest, intolerant, and as - shame-faced as a child. I am almost an ignoramus. What I do know, - I have learned anyhow, by myself, in snatches, without sequence, - without a plan, and it amounts to very little. I am incontinent, - undecided, inconstant and stupidly vain and vehement, like all - characterless people. I am not brave. I am not methodical in life, - and am so lazy that idleness has become an almost unconquerable - habit of mine. - - I am clever, but my cleverness has as yet not been thoroughly - tested on anything; I have neither practical nor social nor - business ability. - - I am honest, that is to say, I love goodness, and have formed a - habit of loving it, and when I swerve from it I am dissatisfied - with myself and return to it gladly; but there is a thing I love - more than goodness, and that is fame. I am so ambitious, and so - little has this feeling been gratified, that should I have to - choose between fame and goodness, I fear I may often choose the - former. - - Yes, I am not modest, and therefore I am proud at heart, though - shame-faced and shy in society. - -That is a grossly unfair estimate of himself, but shows just that sort -of eager injustice to any one who fails to reach the high standard he -sets up, that has always characterised him. His account is inaccurate -in details. For instance, he was not seven, but nearly nine when his -father died. He had not wrecked his affairs to the extent he suggests. -Though his studies had been desultory, he had read widely, with a -quick understanding and a retentive memory. He was master of the -Russian, French and German languages, besides having some knowledge of -English, Latin, Arabic, and Turco-Tartar. (Later in life he added a -knowledge of Italian, Greek and Hebrew.) As for not yet having tested -his cleverness: he had published stories for which the editor of the -best Russian magazine paid him the rate accorded to the best-known -writers; while his awkwardness in society did not depend on ignorance; -on the contrary, he had grown up among people who paid much attention -to manners, and he was himself gifted with social tact, which became -plainly apparent as soon as he attained self-confidence. Any defect in -his manners must have been merely a result of that nervous shyness -natural to highly-strung, sensitive natures, conscious of powers of -a kind society recognises but scantily. Yet, when all is said, his -description gets home: over-emphatic and unfair, like much of his other -writing, it still leaves you in no doubt as to what he meant, and hits -the real points of weakness in the victim he is flaying. - -On 5th March 1855 (old style) when he was just recovering from that -fit of depression at Belbek which, as already mentioned, drove him to -gamble, he writes in his Diary: - - A conversation about Divinity and Faith has suggested to me a - great, a stupendous idea, to the realisation of which I feel - myself capable of devoting my life. This idea is the founding of - a new religion corresponding to the present state of mankind: the - religion of Christianity, but purged of dogmas and mysticism: a - practical religion, not promising future bliss, but giving bliss on - earth. I understand that to accomplish this the conscious labour of - generations will be needed. One generation will bequeath the idea - to the next, and some day fanaticism or reason will accomplish it. - _Deliberately_ to promote the union of mankind by religion--that is - the basic thought which, I hope, will dominate me. - -In that passage one has, quite clearly stated before he was -twenty-seven, the main idea which actuated Tolstoy from the age of -fifty onwards. Already by the literary work he accomplished amid the -bustle and excitement of the siege, he was half consciously moving in -the direction that allured him. During the three months that elapsed -between leaving Bucharest and reaching Sevastopol, he wrote part of -_The Wood-Felling_; a sketch of an expedition such as he had taken part -in the Caucasus; and during the siege of Sevastopol he wrote the first -two parts of _Sevastopol_ and began _Youth_, a sequel to _Childhood_ -and _Boyhood_. - - -1855 - -It was _Sevastopol_ that first brought European fame to Tolstoy. When, -as already mentioned, _Sevastopol in December_ appeared in the June -_Contemporary_, the Emperor ordered it to be translated into French. -That same month Tolstoy completed and despatched _The Wood-Felling_; -in July he sent off _Sevastopol in May_. Here once again the Censor -exercised his malignant power, and Panaef wrote to Tolstoy from -Petersburg: - - In my letter delivered to you by Stolypin, I wrote that your - article has been passed by the Censor with unimportant alterations, - and begged you not to be angry with me that I was obliged to add - a few words at the end to soften.... 3000 copies of the article - had already been printed off, when the Censor suddenly demanded - it back, stopped the appearance of the number (so that our August - number only appeared in Petersburg on 18 August) and submitted - it to Poushkin, President of the Committee of Censors. If you - know Poushkin, you will be able partly to guess what followed. He - flew into a rage, was very angry with the Censor, and with me for - submitting such an article to the Censor, and altered it with his - own hand.... On seeing these alterations I was horror-struck, and - wished not to print the article at all, but Poushkin explained to - me that I must print it in its present shape. There was no help for - it, and your mutilated article will appear in the September number, - but without your initials--which I could not bear to see attached - to it after that.... - - Now a word as to the impression your story produces on all to whom - I have read it in its original form. Every one thinks it stronger - than the first part, in its deep and delicate analysis of the - emotions and feelings of people constantly face to face with death, - and in the fidelity with which the types of the line-officers are - caught, their encounters with the aristocrats, and the mutual - relations of the two sets. In short, all is excellent, all is drawn - in masterly fashion; but it is all so overspread with bitterness, - is so keen, so venomous, so unsparing and so cheerless, that at the - present moment when the scene of the story is almost sacred ground, - it pains those who are at a distance from it; and the story may - even produce a very unpleasant impression. - - _The Wood-Felling_, with its dedication to Tourgenef, will also - appear in September (Tourgenef begs me to thank you very, very - much for thinking of him and paying him this attention).... In - this story also (which passed three Censors: the Caucasian, the - Military, and our Civil Censor) the types of officers have been - tampered with, and unfortunately a little has been struck out. - -Tolstoy's dedication of _The Wood-Felling_ to Tourgenef proceeded -from his admiration for that writer's _A Sportsman's Sketches_, which -to the present time he continues to value very highly, considering -Tourgenef's descriptions of Nature in that book not merely excellent, -but inimitable by any one else. - -Nekrasof wrote to Tolstoy in September, about _Sevastopol in August_, -saying: - - The revolting mutilation of your article quite upset me. Even - now I cannot think of it without regret and rage. Your work - will, of course, not be lost ... it will always remain as proof - of a strength able to utter such profound and sober truth under - circumstances amid which few men would have retained it. It is - just what Russian society now needs: the truth--the truth, of - which, since Gogol's death, so little has remained in Russian - literature. You are right to value that side of your gifts most - of all. Truth--in such form as you have introduced it into our - literature--is something completely new among us. I do not know - another writer of to-day who so compels the reader to love him - and sympathise heartily with him, as he to whom I now write; and - I only fear lest time, the nastiness of life, and the deafness - and dumbness that surround us, should do to you what it has done - to most of us, and kill the energy without which there can be - no writer--none, at least, such as Russia needs. You are young: - changes are taking place which, let us hope, may end well, and - perhaps a wide field lies before you. You are beginning in a way - that compels the most cautious to let their expectations travel - far.... - - _The Wood-Felling_ has passed the Censor pretty fairly, though from - it also some valuable touches have disappeared. ...In that sketch - there are many astonishingly acute remarks, and it is all _new_, - interesting, and to the point. Do not neglect such sketches. Of - the common soldier our literature has as yet not spoken, except - frivolously. - -Tourgenef, writing from his estate at Spassky to Panaef, said: - - Tolstoy's article about Sevastopol is wonderful! Tears came into my - eyes as I read it, and I shouted, Hurrah! I am greatly flattered by - his wish to dedicate his new tale to me.... Here his article has - produced a general furore. - -By the side of these contemporary estimates one may set Kropotkin's -appreciation written fifty years later: - - All his powers of observation and war-psychology, all his deep - comprehension of the Russian soldier, and especially of the plain - un-theatrical hero who really wins the battles, and a profound - understanding of that inner spirit of an army upon which depend - success and failure: everything, in short, which developed into - the beauty and the truthfulness of _War and Peace_, was already - manifested in these sketches, which undoubtedly represented a new - departure in war-literature the world over. - -It is worth while to note the very different conclusions to which -Kinglake, the historian of this war, and Tolstoy, its novelist, -arrived. Kinglake holds the war to have been unnecessary, and -attributes it chiefly to the unscrupulous ambition of Napoleon III; -yet he blames the Peace Party very severely for protesting against -it, for had they not done so Nicholas, he thinks, would not have -dared to act aggressively. Kinglake feels that negotiations between -rulers and diplomatists are important, and that anything that prevents -a Government from speaking with authority, makes for confusion and -disaster. - -Tolstoy, on the other hand (if I may anticipate and speak of -conclusions not definitely expressed by him till much later), regards -all war and preparation for war as immoral, and wishes this conviction -to become so strong and so general that it will be impossible for any -future Napoleon to plunge five nations into war to gratify his own -ambition. - -Kinglake understands things as they are, and knows how easy it is to do -harm with good intentions, but is somewhat blind to the trend of human -progress, and as to what the aim before us should be. Tolstoy, on the -contrary, is chiefly concerned about the ultimate aim, and about the -state of mind of the individual. The actual working of our political -system and international relations are things he ignores. The English -writer sees clearly what is, and cares little about what should be; the -Russian writer cares immensely about what should be, and rather forgets -that it can only be approached by slow and difficult steps, to take -which surefootedly, needs an appreciation of things as they are. - -Neither of them manages to say the word which would synthesize their -divergent views: namely, that no self-respecting people should support -or tolerate as rulers, men who seek to gain national advantages by -means not strictly fair, honest and even generous. That is the real key -to the world's future peace. Kinglake's appeal to us not to hamper the -government that represents us, and Tolstoy's appeal to us not to spend -our lives in preparing to slay our fellow men, can both be met in that -way, and, I think, in that way alone. - -For an ambitious young officer actually engaged in a war, related to -the Commander-in-Chief, and favourably noticed by the Emperor, even -_partially_ to express disapproval of war, was difficult; and Tolstoy -has told me that, contending with his desire to tell the truth about -things as he saw it, he was at the same time aware of another feeling -prompting him to say what was expected of him. - -He, however, like the child in Andersen's story who sees that the -king has nothing on, when every one else is in ecstasies over the -magnificence of the monarch's robes, had the gift of seeing things -with his own eyes, as well as a great gift of truthfulness. These were -the qualities which ultimately made him the greatest literary power -of his century; and in spite of his own hesitation and the Censor's -mutilations, we may still read the description he then wrote of the -truce in which the French and Russian soldiers hobnobbed together in -friendship, a description closing with these words: - - White flags are on the bastions and parallels; the flowery valley - is covered with corpses; the beautiful sun is sinking towards the - blue sea; and the undulating blue sea glitters in the golden rays - of the sun. Thousands of people crowd together, look at, speak to, - and smile at one another. And these people--Christians confessing - the one great law of love and self-sacrifice--seeing what they have - done, do not at once fall repentant on their knees before Him who - has given them life and laid in the soul of each a fear of death - and a love of goodness and of beauty, and do not embrace like - brothers with tears of joy and happiness. - - The white flags are lowered, again the engines of death and - suffering are sounding, again innocent blood flows, and the air is - filled with moans and curses. - -In _Sevastopol_, and in Tennyson's _Charge of the Light Brigade_ (with -its rhymes about 'hundred' and 'thundered,' and its panegyric of those -who knew it was not their business to think, and at whom 'all the -world wondered'), we have two typical expressions of conflicting views -on war: the view of a man who knew it from the classics and was Poet -Laureate, and the view of a man who was in the thick of it, and whose -eyes were connected with his brain. - -Thirty-four years later Tolstoy wrote a Preface to a fellow-officer's -_Recollections of Sevastopol_. It could not pass the Censor, but has -been used as a Preface to his own sketches of war in the English -version of _Sevastopol_, translated by my wife and myself, and I cannot -conclude this chapter better than by quoting a few sentences from it. - -Speaking of the position of a young officer engaged in the Crimean war, -he says: - - To the first question that suggests itself to every one, Why did - he do it? Why did he not cease, and go away?--the author does not - reply. He does not say, as men said in olden times when they hated - their enemies as the Jews hated the Philistines, that he hated the - Allies; on the contrary, he here and there shows his sympathy for - them as for brother men. - - Nor does he speak of any passionate desire that the keys of the - Church at Jerusalem should be in our hands, or even that our fleet - should, or should not, exist. You feel as you read, that to him - the life and death of men are not commensurable with questions of - politics. And the reader feels that to the question: Why did the - author act as he did?--there is only one answer; It was because I - enlisted while still young, or before the war began, or because - owing to inexperience I chanced to slip into a position from which - I could not extricate myself without great effort. I was entrapped - into that position, and when they obliged me to do the most - unnatural actions in the world, to kill my brother men who had done - me no harm, I preferred to do this rather than to suffer punishment - and disgrace.... One feels that the author knows there is a law - of God: love thy neighbour, and therefore do not kill him,--a law - which cannot be repealed by any human artifice. - - The merit of the book consists in that. It is a pity it is only - felt, and not plainly and clearly expressed. Sufferings and deaths - are described; but we are not told what caused them. Thirty-five - years ago--even that was well, but now something more is needed. - We should be told what it is that causes soldiers to suffer and to - die,--that we may know, and understand, and destroy these causes. - - 'War! How terrible,' people say, 'is war, with its wounds, - bloodshed, and deaths! We must organise a Red Cross Society to - alleviate the wounds, sufferings and pains of death.' But, truly, - what is dreadful in war is not the wounds, sufferings and deaths. - The human race that has always suffered and died, should by this - time be accustomed to suffering and death, and should not be aghast - at them. Without war people die by famine, by inundations, and by - epidemics. It is not suffering and death that are terrible, but it - is that which allows people to inflict suffering and death.... - - It is not the suffering and mutilation and death of man's body that - most needs to be diminished,--but it is the mutilation and death of - his soul. Not the _Red_ Cross is needed, but the simple cross of - Christ to destroy falsehood and deception.... - - I was finishing this Preface when a cadet from the Military College - came to see me. He told me that he was troubled by religious - doubts.... He had read nothing of mine. I spoke cautiously to him - of how to read the Gospels so as to find in them the answers to - life's problems. He listened and agreed. Towards the end of our - conversation I mention wine, and advised him not to drink. He - replied: 'but in military service it is sometimes necessary.' I - thought he meant necessary for health and strength, and I intended - triumphantly to overthrow him by proofs from experience and - science, but he continued: 'Why, at Geok-Tepe, for instance, when - Skobelef had to massacre the inhabitants, the soldiers did not wish - to do it, but he had drink served out and then....' Here are all - the horrors of war--they are in this lad with his fresh young face, - his little shoulder-straps (under which the ends of his hood are so - neatly tucked), his well-cleaned boots, his naive eyes, and with so - perverted a conception of life. - - This is the real horror of war! - - What millions of Red Cross workers could heal the wounds that swarm - in that remark--the result of a whole system of education! - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER IV - -Birukof. - -Behrs. - -Bitovt. - -Nekrasof's letters to Tolstoy, _Niva_, February 1898. - -Also, Tolstoy's _Sevastopol_, and his - -Preface to Ershof's _Recollections of Sevastopol_. - -Kropotkin, _Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_: London, 1905. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - PETERSBURG; LOVE AFFAIR; DROUZHININ - -Petersburg. Tourgenef. The _Contemporary_. Death of his brother -Demetrius. Drouzhinin. The Behrs. Love affairs. Engagement with V.V.A. -Illness. Leaves the army. Engagement broken off. Correspondence with -Tourgenef. Writings. Drouzhinin's criticism of _Youth_ and of Tolstoy's -style. Books that influenced him. Emancipation of serfs. Poushkin. -Self-condemnation in his _Confession_. - - -A NUMBER of distinguished writers have recorded their opinions of the -talented young officer who appeared in Petersburg before the war was -quite over, and immediately entered the fraternity then supporting the -_Contemporary_. From their memoirs one sees what Tolstoy was like at -this, perhaps the stormiest and least satisfactory period of his life. - -The _Contemporary_ was a monthly review founded by Poushkin and -Pletnef in 1836. It passed in 1847 to Panaef and the poet Nekrasof, -and when Tolstoy began to write, was recognised as the leading and -most progressive Russian literary periodical. Its chief contributors -formed an intimate group, united by close personal acquaintance, by -sympathy with the Emancipation movement then making itself felt, and -also by a common agreement (not it is true very strictly or very -permanently observed) to write exclusively for the _Contemporary_. -The point to be noticed is that the circle Tolstoy entered consisted -of a friendly, sociable group of people who considered themselves -ardent reformers; and that though Tolstoy's talent and his wish to have -his works published, threw him and them together, he never appears -to have had the least inclination to co-operate on that footing of -mutual give-and-take toleration which is so essential in public -life. Certainly he never became friendly with the more advanced men, -Tchernyshevsky, Mihaylof, and the ultra-democratic Dobrolubof, who were -intent on spreading democratic and socialistic ideas in Russia. - -It has been suggested that this was due to the fact that he was an -aristocrat and that they were democrats; but one has to go deeper than -that for the explanation, which lies, to a considerable extent, in -the fact that the advanced Russian Radicals were, for the most part, -admirers of Governmental Jacobinism, whereas Tolstoy has from the very -start tended to be a No-Government man, an Anarchist, and has objected -to linking himself closely with any group, since such alliance always -implies some amount of compromise, and some subordination of one's own -opinions. - -The poet Fet, himself a young officer, made Tolstoy's acquaintance -at this time. A couple of years later he purchased an estate at no -very great distance from Yasnaya Polyana, and became a friend of -Tolstoy's--one in fact of the very few people, not of his own family, -with whom the latter ever formed a close personal friendship. - - -1855 - -His first acquaintance with Tolstoy was however hardly auspicious. -Calling on Tourgenef in St. Petersburg at ten o'clock one morning, he -saw an officer's sword hanging in the hall, and asked the man-servant -whose it was. 'It's Count Tolstoy's sword,' replied the man. 'He is -sleeping in the drawing-room. Ivan Sergeyevitch [Tourgenef] is having -breakfast in the study.' During Fet's visit of an hour's duration, he -and his host had to converse in low tones for fear of waking Tolstoy. -'He is like this all the time,' said Tourgenef. 'He came back from -his Sevastopol battery; put up here, and is going the pace. Sprees, -gipsy-girls and cards all night long--and then he sleeps like a corpse -till two in the afternoon. At first I tried to put the break on, but -now I've given it up, and let him do as he likes.' - -Fet tells us that as soon as he met Tolstoy he noticed his instinctive -defiance of all accepted opinions; and at Nekrasof's lodgings, the -first time he saw Tolstoy and Tourgenef together, he witnessed the -desperation to which the former reduced the latter by his biting -retorts. - - 'I can't admit,' said Tolstoy, 'that what you say expresses your - convictions. If I stand at the door with a dagger or a sword, - and say, "While I am alive no one shall enter here," that shows - conviction. But you, here, try to conceal the true inwardness of - your thoughts from one another, and call _that_ conviction!' - - 'Why do you come here?' squeaked Tourgenef, panting, his voice - rising to a falsetto (as always happened when he was disputing). - 'Your banner is not here! Go! Go to the salon of Princess B----!' - - 'Why should I ask you, where I am to go? Besides, empty talk won't - become conviction, merely because I am, or am not here,' replied - Tolstoy. - -Though he cared little for politics, Fet's sympathies inclined to the -Conservative side, and he found himself in accord with Tolstoy rather -than with Tourgenef and the other Contemporarians; but Fet's stay in -Petersburg at this time was a short one, and he therefore saw little -of Tolstoy. D. V. Grigorovitch, the novelist, however, reported to him -another scene which also occurred at Nekrasof's lodging. - - You can't imagine what it was like! Great Heavens! said - Grigorovitch. Tourgenef squeaked and squeaked, holding his hand to - his throat, and with the eyes of a dying gazelle whispered: 'I can - stand no more! I have bronchitis!' and began walking to and fro - through the three rooms.--'Bronchitis is an imaginary illness,' - growls Tolstoy after him: 'Bronchitis is a metal!' - - Of course Nekrasof's heart sank: he feared to lose either of these - valuable contributors to the _Contemporary_. We were all agitated, - and at our wits' end to know what to say. Tolstoy, in the middle - room, lay sulking on the morocco sofa; while Tourgenef, spreading - the tails of his short coat and with his hands in his pockets, - strode to and fro through the three rooms. To avert a catastrophe, - I went to the sofa and said, 'Tolstoy, old chap, don't get excited! - You don't know how he esteems and loves you!' - - 'I won't allow him to do anything to spite me!' exclaimed Tolstoy - with dilated nostrils. 'There! Now he keeps marching past me on - purpose, wagging his democratic haunches!' - -The rest of the evidence is of much the same nature. Of desire to -agree, there was hardly a trace in Tolstoy, who never doubted his own -sincerity and seldom credited that quality to others. The aristocratic -influences that surrounded his upbringing never induced him to be -lenient to men of his own class, such as Tourgenef; but they led him -to judge harshly and unsympathetically new men who were pushing their -way to the front by their own ability. Fet, in his _Memoires_, speaks -with regret of the fact that the educated classes ('the Intelligents') -attracted by Liberal ideas which made for the Emancipation of the -serfs, formed so strong a current of opinion that even the literature -produced by the nobility (and he claims that the nobles supplied all -the truly artistic literature) advocated changes which struck at the -root of the most fundamental privileges of their class. This tendency, -he tells us, revolted 'Tolstoy's fresh, unwarped instinct.' - -Grigorovitch, in his _Literary Memoirs_, tells us that, knowing how -out of sympathy Tolstoy was with Petersburg, and how evident it was -that everything in Petersburg irritated him, he was surprised to find -that the latter took permanent lodgings there. Grigorovitch, himself -a Contemporarian, had met Tolstoy in Moscow, and coming across him -again in Petersburg, and hearing that he was invited to dine with the -staff of the _Contemporary_, but did not yet know any of the members -intimately, agreed to accompany him. - - On the way I warned him to be on his guard about certain matters, - and especially to avoid attacking George Sand, whom he much - disliked, but who was devoutly worshipped by many Contemporarians. - The dinner passed off all right, Tolstoy being rather quiet at - first, but at last he broke out. Some one praised George Sand's - new novel, and he abruptly declared his hatred of her, adding that - the heroines of the novels she was then writing, if they really - existed, ought to be tied to the hangman's cart and driven through - the streets of Petersburg. He had, adds Grigorovitch, already then - developed that peculiar view of women and of the woman-question, - which he afterwards expressed so vividly in _Anna Karenina_. - -With all the curious convolutions of Tolstoy's character, there is -a remarkable tenacity of conviction running through his whole life, -and a remark in _Resurrection_, written nearly half a century later, -throws a flood of light on the fact of his so detesting George Sand's -emancipated heroines while he was himself living a loose life. In -that book, the hero has been attracted as well as repelled first by -Mariette, the General's wife, and then by a handsome demi-mondaine he -passes in the street, and this is his reflection: - - The animalism of the brute nature in man is disgusting, thought he; - but as long as it remains in its naked form we observe it from the - height of our spiritual life and despise it; and, _whether one has - fallen or resisted_, one remains what one was before. But when that - same animalism hides under a cloak of poetry and esthetic feeling, - and demands our worship--then we are swallowed up by it completely, - and worship animalism, no longer distinguishing good from evil. - Then it is awful! - -[Illustration: PROMINENT RUSSIAN WRITERS, (1856): TOURGENEF, SOLOGOUB, -TOLSTOY, NEKRASOF, GRIGORYEF, PANAEF.] - -Grigorovitch in another place speaks of Tolstoy's 'readiness to -contradict.' It did not matter what opinion was being expressed; and -the more authoritative the speaker appeared to be, the more eager was -Tolstoy to oppose him and to begin a verbal duel. 'Watching how he -listened to the speaker and pierced him with his eyes, and noticing -how ironically he pressed his lips together, one conjectured that he -was preparing not a direct reply, but such an expression of opinion as -would perplex his opponent by its unexpectedness.' - -Danilevsky, the novelist, confirms this impression of Tolstoy's -eagerness to oppose. They met at the house of a well-known sculptor. -Tolstoy entered the drawing-room while a new work of Herzen's was -being read aloud, and quietly took up a position behind the reader's -chair. When the reading was over, he began, at first gently and with -restraint, then hotly and boldly, to attack Herzen and the enthusiasm -then current for his revolutionary and emancipatory works; and he spoke -so convincingly and with such sincerity, that Danilevsky says he never -afterwards saw one of Herzen's publications in that house. - -Tourgenef once said: 'In Tolstoy the character which afterwards lay -at the base of his whole outlook on life early made itself manifest. -He never believed in people's sincerity. Every spiritual movement -seemed to him false, and he used to pierce those on whom his suspicion -fell with his extraordinarily penetrating eyes'; and Tourgenef went -on to say that personally he had never encountered anything more -disconcerting than that inquisitorial look, which, accompanied by two -or three biting words, was enough to goad to fury any man who lacked -strong self control. - -The different sides of men's characters do not always advance -simultaneously or harmoniously; and it frequently happens that those -awakening to a sense of public duty remain self-indulgent in respect to -wine or women, while others become abstainers or respectable husbands -while remaining oblivious of the political duties they owe to the -community. Among the reformers whose acquaintance Tolstoy made in -Petersburg, there was unfortunately a great deal of gluttony, drinking, -gambling and loose living, and Tolstoy--though he was often remorseful -and repentant about his own excesses with wine, women, and cards--with -his innate propensity for demanding _all or nothing_, bitterly resented -this in others. He would no doubt have considered it hypocritical had -he himself come forward as a reformer before obtaining mastery over his -own appetites, and he judged others by the same standard. - -The ill success of the Crimean war had dealt a blow to the prestige of -the Tsardom, and a series of wide-reaching reforms were being prepared -at this time--among which the most important were the abolition of -serfdom, the reform of civil and criminal law, the introduction -of trial by jury and of oral proceedings in the law courts, the -establishment of a system of Local Government somewhat resembling -our County Councils, and some relaxation of the insensate severity -of the press censorship. But though Tolstoy reached Petersburg at a -moment when Russia was entering on this hopeful and fruitful period of -internal reform, neither in his published writings nor in any private -utterance we know of, does he express much sympathy with those reforms, -or show any perception of the advantage that accrues to a nation whose -inhabitants interest themselves in public affairs. He never realised -that even if a people make for themselves bad laws, the very fact -of being invited to think about large practical matters, and being -allowed to test their own conclusions in practice, fosters a habit of -not fearing to think and to act in accord with one's thought; and that -this habit of applying thought to the guidance of practical affairs, -overflows into a nation's commerce and industry and agriculture, and -ultimately causes the difference between the comparative material -security of our Western world and the chronic fear of famine that -oppresses many Eastern lands. - -But complex problems of public policy--which are always difficult, and -call for patience, tolerant co-operation, and a willingness to accept -half-loaves when whole ones are unobtainable--never were to Tolstoy's -taste. He hankers after simple, clear-cut solutions, such as are -obtainable only subjectively, in the mind. - -A few years later than the time of which we are speaking, Tolstoy -commenced a novel called _The Decembrists_, which begins with a -description of these reform years. The passage shows how scornfully he -regarded the whole movement for the liberation of the people and the -democratisation of their institutions. These are his words: - - This happened not long ago, in the reign of Alexander II, in our - times of civilisation, progress, _problems_, re-birth of Russia, - etc. etc.; the time when the victorious Russian army returned - from Sevastopol which it had surrendered to the enemy; when all - Russia was celebrating the destruction of the Black Sea fleet; and - white-walled Moscow greeted, and congratulated on that auspicious - event, the remainder of the crews of that fleet, offering them - a good old Russian goblet of vodka, and in the good old Russian - way bringing them bread and salt and bowing at their feet. This - was the time when Russia, in the person of her far-sighted virgin - politicians, wept over the destruction of her dream of a Te Deum - in the Cathedral of St. Sophia, and the deep-felt loss to the - fatherland of two great men who had perished during the war (one - who, carried away by impatience to hear the Te Deum referred to - above, had fallen on the fields of Wallachia, not without leaving - there two squadrons of Hussars; and the other an invaluable man - who distributed tea, other people's money, and sheets, to the - wounded without stealing any of them); in that time when from all - sides, in all departments of human activity in Russia, great men - sprang up like mushrooms: commanders, administrators, economists, - writers, orators, and simply great men without any special calling - or aim; in that time when at the Jubilee of a Moscow actor, public - opinion, fortified by a toast, appeared and began to punish all - wrongdoers; when stern Commissioners galloped from Petersburg to - the South and captured, exposed, and punished the commissariat - rascals; when in all the towns dinners with toasts were given to - the heroes of Sevastopol, and to those of them whose arms and legs - had been torn off, coppers were given by those who met them on the - bridges or highways; at that time when oratorical talents were so - rapidly developed among the people that one publican everywhere and - on all occasions wrote, printed, and repeated by heart at dinners, - such powerful speeches that the guardians of order were obliged to - undertake repressive measures to subdue his eloquence; when even - in the English Club in Moscow a special room was set apart for the - consideration of public affairs; when periodicals appeared under - the most varied banners; journals developing European principles - on a European basis but with a Russian world-conception, and - journals on an exclusively Russian basis, developing Russian - principles but with a European world-conception; when suddenly, so - many journals appeared that it seemed as if all possible titles - had been used up: 'The Messenger,' 'The Word,' 'The Discourse,' - 'The Eagle,' and many others; when nevertheless fresh titles - presented themselves continually; at that time when pleiades of new - author-philosophers appeared, proving that Science is national and - is not national and is international, and so on: and pleiades of - writer-artists, who described woods and sun-rises, and thunders, - and the love of a Russian maiden, and the idleness of one official, - and the misconduct of many officials; at that time when from all - sides appeared problems (as in the year '56 every concourse of - circumstances was called of which nobody could make head or tail); - the problem of the Cadet Schools, the Universities, the Censor, - oral tribunals, finance, the banks, the police, the Emancipation, - and many others; everybody still tried to discover new questions, - and everybody tried to solve them; they wrote, and read, and - talked, and drew up projects, and all wished to amend, destroy - and alter, and all Russians, as one man, were in an indescribable - state of enthusiasm. That was a condition which has occurred twice - in Russia in the nineteenth century: the first time was in the - year '12 when we thrashed Napoleon I, and the second time was in - '56 when Napoleon III thrashed us. Great, unforgettable epoch of - the re-birth of the Russian people! Like the Frenchman who said - that he had not lived at all who had not lived during the Great - French Revolution, so I make bold to say that he who did not live - in Russia in '56, does not know what life is. The writer of these - lines not merely lived at that time, but was one of the workers of - that period. Not merely did he personally sit for some weeks in - one of the casemates of Sevastopol, but he wrote a work about the - Crimean War which brought him great fame, and in which he clearly - and minutely described how the soldiers in the bastion fired off - their muskets, how in the hospitals people were bound up with - bandages, and how in the cemetery they were buried in the earth. - - Having performed these exploits, the writer of these lines arrived - at the heart of the Empire, at a rocket-station, where he reaped - his laurels. He witnessed the enthusiasm of both capitals and of - the whole people, and experienced in his own person how Russia - can reward real service. The great ones of the earth sought his - acquaintance, pressed his hands, offered him dinners, persistently - invited him to come and see them, and in order to hear from him - particulars about the war, narrated to him their own sensations. - Therefore the writer of these lines knows how to appreciate that - great and memorable time. But that is not what I want to tell about. - -The very day he reached Petersburg from Sevastopol, in September 1855, -Tolstoy called on Tourgenef, who pressed him to stay with him and -introduced him to all that was most interesting in Petersburg literary -and artistic circles, watching over his interests 'like an old nurse,' -as Tourgenef himself once expressed it. Tourgenef fully appreciated -Tolstoy's artistic genius, but was strangely blind to the specially -Tolstoyan side of Tolstoy's complex nature. As we have already seen, -friction soon arose between the two men, and though they again and -again made friends, their friendship was very unstable and easily -upset. - - -1856 - -Early in 1856 Tolstoy's third brother, Demetrius, died in Orel. His -history has been told in Chapter II. Tolstoy says: 'I was particularly -horrid at that time. I went to Orel from Petersburg, where I frequented -society and was filled with conceit. I felt sorry for Mitenka, but not -very sorry. I paid him a hurried visit, but did not stay at Orel, and -my brother died a few days after I left.' On 2nd February the news -reached Leo; but he says: 'I really believe that what hurt me most, was -that it prevented my taking part in some private theatricals then being -got up at Court, and to which I had been invited.' - -In March the war ended, and Tolstoy obtained furlough. On 25th March he -wrote to his brother Sergius: - - I want to go abroad for eight months, and if they give me leave - I shall do so. I wrote to Nikolenka about it, and asked him to - come too. If we could all three arrange to go together it would - be first-rate. If each of us took Rs. 1000, we could do the trip - capitally. - - Please write and tell me how you like _The Snow Storm_. I am - dissatisfied with it--seriously. But I now want to write many - things, only I positively have no time in this damned Petersburg. - Anyway, whether they let me go abroad or not, I intend to take - furlough in April and come to the country. - -On 13th May he was still in Petersburg, and we find him noting in his -Diary: - - The powerful means to true happiness in life, is to let flow from - oneself on all sides, without any laws, like a spider, a cobweb - of love, and to catch in it all that comes to hand: women old or - young, children, or policemen. - -Among his literary acquaintances at this time the one for whom he -seems to have felt most sympathy and respect was Drouzhinin, a critic, -writer of stories, and translator of Shakespear. Before long we find -Drouzhinin leading a revolt against the _Contemporary_ and attracting -some of the contributors to the _Reading Library_, a rival magazine, to -which Tolstoy contributed an article in December 1856. - -It was not till the end of May that he got away from Petersburg; and -on his road home he stopped in Moscow and visited the family of Dr. -Behrs, a Russian of German origin, who had married Miss Islenyef. The -first mention one gets of Tolstoy's future wife is a note in his Diary -relating to this visit to the Behrs's country house near Moscow. He -says: 'The children served us. What dear, merry little girls! Little -more than six years later, the second of these 'merry little girls' was -Countess Tolstoy! - -Three days later he writes to his brother Sergius: 'I spent ten days -in Moscow ... very pleasantly, without champagne or gipsies, but a -little in love--I will tell you later on with whom.' The object of his -affection at that time was of course not Dr. Behrs's twelve-year-old -daughter. - -From Yasnaya he made a round of visits to see his married sister and -other neighbours; among them Tourgenef, at whose house a gathering of -the Tolstoys took place. Special honour was paid to Leo, who comically -posed as the hero of a Triumph. He was being crowned and almost covered -with flowers, leaves, grass, and anything that came handy, when the -approach of an unwelcome guest--a lady neighbour of Tourgenef's--was -announced. Thereupon the host seized his head in despair; the -triumpher, with a howl, began to turn rapid catherine-wheel somersaults -through the rooms; and his sister's husband was quickly bandaged up as -an invalid, to be used as an excuse and a protection from the unwelcome -intruder. - -The letter to Sergius, quoted above, contains an allusion to Tolstoy's -first serious matrimonial project. - -He had in childhood been much attached to a certain Sonitchka -Kaloshina. While at the University, he had had a sentimental love -affair with a certain Z. M., who seems hardly to have been aware of -his devotion. Then there was the Cossack damsel who figures in _The -Cossacks_, and subsequently he much admired a society lady, Madame -Sch., who may also have been scarcely aware of his feelings, for -Tolstoy was shy and timid in these matters--which were quite different -from his affairs with gipsy girls and other hireable women. - -The present affair with V. V. A. was more serious than any of its -predecessors. It led to a long correspondence, and even to their -engagement being announced among relations and friends. The lady was -the good-looking daughter of a landowner in the neighbourhood of -Yasnaya Polyana. - -In August she accompanied her family to Moscow for the Coronation -of Alexander II. At these festivities she enjoyed herself greatly, -and described her feelings in a letter which dealt the first blow to -Tolstoy's admiration. He at once assumed towards her the role which -more than twenty-five years later he assumed towards mankind in -general, and upbraided her with the insignificant and unworthy nature -of her interests and enjoyments, besides indulging in scathing sarcasms -about the fashionable circles with which she was so enraptured. - -The young lady did not reply. Tolstoy then begged pardon--which was -granted. - -Meanwhile he had fallen ill; and early in September he wrote to his -brother Sergius: - - Only now, at nine o'clock on Monday evening, can I give you a - satisfactory reply, for till now things went worse and worse. Two - doctors were sent for, and administered another forty leeches, - but only now have I had a good sleep and, on waking up, feel - considerably better. All the same, there can be no question of my - leaving home for five or six days yet. So _au revoir_; please let - me know when you go (shooting) and whether it is true that your - farming has been seriously neglected; and do not kill all the game - without me. I will send the dogs, perhaps, to-morrow. - -He recovered. The young lady returned to her family's estate at -Soudakova, and his visits being renewed, Tolstoy's intimacy with her -continued and grew closer. - -Yet to 'test himself,' he started for a visit to Petersburg, and as -soon as he had got as far as Moscow, wrote a letter to the young lady -in which he dwelt on the importance of the mutual attraction of the -sexes, the serious nature of his and her relation to one another, and -the necessity of testing themselves by time and distance. - -While living in Petersburg, he learnt the particulars of a flirtation -the young lady had carried on at the time of the Coronation with -a French music-master, Mortier; and he wrote her a letter full -of reproaches. Instead of posting it, however, he wrote her -another--telling her of the one he had written, which he intended to -show her when they met. - -After once breaking off relations with Mortier, the young lady allowed -them to be again renewed, and what Tolstoy learned of the matter caused -him seriously to reconsider his position. For some time his feelings -evidently wavered. The very day after posting his remonstrance, he -wrote another letter in a conciliatory tone, and though no reply -came, he assumed that all was well, and continued the correspondence -by sending her a detailed plan of the life they might hope to live -together: its surroundings, circle of acquaintance, and the arrangement -of their time. He also tried to interest her in the most serious -problems of life. - -No answer reaching him for a long time, he became agitated and -perplexed. Then several letters, delayed in the post, arrived all at -once, and cordial intercourse was re-established between the lovers. -But though the engagement and correspondence continued, and expressions -of affection were interchanged, it gradually became more and more -evident that there was something artificial and unsatisfactory in their -relation to one another. - -Meanwhile Tolstoy was having other difficulties in Petersburg. On 10th -November 1856 he writes to his brother Sergius: - - Forgive me, dear friend Seryozha, for only writing two words--I - have no time for more. I have been most unlucky since I left home; - there is no one here I like. It seems that I have been abused in - the _Fatherland Journal_ for my war stories--I have not yet read - the attack; but the worst is that Konstantinof [the General under - whose command was the battery to which Tolstoy was attached] - informed me as soon as I got here that the Grand Duke Michael, - having learnt that I am supposed to have composed the Soldiers' - Song, is displeased, particularly at my having (as rumour says) - taught it to the soldiers. This is abominable. I have had an - explanation with the Head of the Staff. The only satisfactory thing - is that my health is good, and that (Dr.) Schipoulinsky says my - lungs are thoroughly sound. - -On 20th November 1856 Tolstoy left the army, in which he had never -secured promotion though he had private influence enough to enable him, -about this time, to save from trial by Court Martial the Commander of -the battery in which he had served in the Crimea. - -Early in December he left Petersburg for Moscow. From there, on 5th -December, he writes to Aunt Tatiana: - - When I first went away and for a week after, I thought I was 'in - love' as it is called; but with an imagination such as mine that - was not difficult. - - Now, however, especially since I have set to work diligently, I - should like--and very much like--to be able to say that I am in - love, or even that I love her; but it is not the case. The only - feeling I have for her is gratitude for her love of me, and the - thought that of all the girls I have known or know, she would have - made me the best wife, as I understand family life. And that is - what I should like to have your candid opinion about. Am I mistaken - or not? I should like to hear your advice because, in the first - place, you know both her and me; and chiefly because you love me, - and those who love are never wrong. It is true that I have tested - myself very badly, for from the time I left home I have led a - solitary rather than a dissipated life, and have seen few women; - but notwithstanding that, I have had many moments of vexation with - myself for having become connected with her, and I have repented - of it. All the same, I repeat that if I were convinced that she is - of a steadfast nature, and would love me always--even though not - as now, yet more than any one else--then I should not hesitate for - a moment about marrying her. I am confident that then my love of - her would increase more and more and that through that feeling she - would become a good woman. - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY IN 1856, THE YEAR HE LEFT THE ARMY.] - -The young lady in question visited Petersburg for part of the winter -season, but Tolstoy does not appear to have met her there, being -himself away in Moscow for several weeks. The correspondence was -largely didactic on his side, and was so unsatisfactory to the young -lady that she finally forbade him to write again. He disobeyed the -injunction, asking her pardon, telling her he was going abroad, and -begging that she would write to him once more, to an address in Paris. - -He wrote to Aunt Tatiana from Moscow, on 12th January 1857, a letter in -which Russian and French alternate. - - [31]CHERE TANTE!--J'ai recu mon passeport pour l'etranger et je - suis venu a Moscou pour y passer quelques jours avec Marie arranger - mes affaires et prendre conge de vous. - - But now I have reconsidered the matter, especially on Mashenka's - advice, and have decided to remain with her here a week or two - and then to go straight through Warsaw to Paris. You no doubt - understand, _chere tante_, why I do not wish and why it is not - right for me to come now to Yasnaya, or rather to Soudakova. I, it - seems, have acted very badly in relation to V., but were I to see - her now, I should behave still worse. As I wrote you, I am more - than indifferent to her, and feel that I can no longer deceive - either her or myself. But were I to come, I might perhaps, from - weakness of character, again delude myself. - - Vous rappelez-vous, chere tante, comme vous vous etes moquee de - moi, quand je vous ai dit que je partais pour Petersbourg 'pour - m'eprouver,' et cependant c'est a cette idee que je suis redevable - de n'avoir pas fait le malheur de la jeune personne et le mien, - car ne croyez pas que ce soit de l'inconstance ou de l'infidelite; - personne ne m'a plu pendant ces deux mois, mais tout bonnement j'ai - vu que je me trompais moi-meme; que non seulement jamais je n'ai - eu, mais jamais je n'aurais pour V. le moindre sentiment d'amour - veritable. La seule chose qui me fait beaucoup de peine c'est que - j'ai fait du tort a la demoiselle et que je ne pourrai prendre - conge de vous avant de partir.... - - [31] DEAR AUNT,--I have received my passport for abroad, and I - have come to Moscow to pass some days with Mary, and to take - leave of you. (See sentences in English in letter above.) - - But now I have reconsidered the matter, especially on - Mashenka's advice, and have decided to remain with her here a - week or two and then to go straight through Warsaw to Paris. - You no doubt understand, _chere tante_, why I do not wish and - why it is not right for me to come now to Yasnaya, or rather - to Soudakova. I, it seems, have acted very badly in relation - to V., but were I to see her now, I should behave still worse. - As I wrote you, I am more than indifferent to her, and feel - that I can no longer deceive either her or myself. But were I - to come, I might perhaps, from weakness of character, again - delude myself. - - Do you remember, dear Aunt, how you made fun of me when I - told you I was going to Petersburg 'to test myself'? Yet it - is that idea that has saved me from bringing misery on the - young lady and on myself; for do not suppose that it is a case - of inconstancy or unfaithfulness. No one has taken my fancy - during these two months, but simply I have come to see that - I was deceiving myself, and that I not only never had, but - never shall have, the least feeling of true love for V. V. A. - The only things which give me much pain are that I have hurt - the young lady, and that I cannot take leave of you before my - departure.... - -After reaching Paris (an event belonging properly to the next chapter) -he received a last communication from V. V. A. and wrote her a friendly -letter in reply, speaking of his love as of something past, thanking -her for her friendship, and wishing her every happiness. - -His Aunt Tatiana--generally the mildest of critics where he was -concerned--appears to have blamed him for his conduct; and the friends -of V. V. A., including a French governess, Mlle. Vergani, did so yet -more severely. In one of his letters, which contains indications of an -agitation too strong to allow him to complete the construction of the -opening sentence, he says: - - [32]Si Mlle. V. qui m'a ecrit une lettre aussi ridicule, voulait - se rappeler toute ma conduite vis-a-vis de V. V. A., comment je - tachais de venir le plus rarement possible, comment c'est elle qui - m'engageait a venir plus souvent et a entrer dans des relations - plus proches. Je comprends qu'elle soit fachee de ce qu'une chose - qu'elle a beaucoup desiree ne s'est pas faite (j'en suis fache - peut-etre plus qu'elle) mais ce n'est pas une raison pour dire a un - homme qui s'est efforce d'agir le mieux possible, qui a fait des - sacrifices de peur de faire le malheur des autres, de lui dire, - qu'il est un _pig_ [this one word is in Russian in the original] et - de le faire accroire a tout le monde. Je suis sur que Toula [the - town nearest his estate] est convaincu que je suis le plus grand - des monstres. - - [32] If Mlle. Vergani, who has written me so absurd a letter, - would remember my whole conduct towards V. V. A., how I tried - to come as seldom as possible, and how it was she who induced - me to come more frequently and to enter into closer relations. - I understand her being vexed that an affair she much desired - has not come off (I perhaps am more vexed about it than she) - but that is no reason for her to tell a man who has tried to - act as well as he could, and who has made sacrifices in order - not to make others unhappy, that he is a pig, and to spread - that report about. I am sure all Toula is convinced that I am - the greatest of monsters.... - -Turning from love to literature and friendship, we have two letters of -this period from Tourgenef. The first is dated Paris, 16th November -1856, and is as follows: - - DEAREST TOLSTOY,--Your letter of 15 October took a whole month - crawling to me--I received it only yesterday. I have thought - carefully about what you write me--and I think you are wrong. It - is true I cannot be quite sincere, because I can't be quite frank, - with you. I think we got to know each other awkwardly and at a bad - time, and when we meet again it will be much easier and smoother. - I feel that I love you as a man (as an author it needs no saying); - but much in you is trying to me, and ultimately I found it better - to keep at a distance from you. When we meet we will again try - to go hand in hand--perhaps we shall succeed better; for strange - as it may sound, my heart turns to you when at a distance, as to - a brother: I even feel tenderly towards you. In a word, I love - you--that is certain; perchance from that, in time, all good will - follow. I heard of your illness and grieved; but now, I beg you, - drive the thought of it out of your head. For you too have your - fancies, and are perhaps thinking of consumption--but, God knows, - you have nothing of the sort.... - - You have finished the first part of _Youth_--that is capital. How - sorry I am to be unable to hear it read! If you do not go astray - (which I think there is no reason to anticipate) you will go very - far. I wish you good health, activity--and freedom, spiritual - freedom. - - As to my _Faust_, I do not think it will please you very much. My - things could please you and perhaps have some influence on you, - only until you became independent. Now you have no need to study - me; you see only the difference of our manners, the mistakes and - the omissions; what you have to do is to study man, your own - heart, and the really great writers. I am a writer of a transition - period--and am of use only to men in a transition state. So - farewell, and be well. Write to me. - -On 8th December 1856 he writes again: - - DEAR TOLSTOY,--Yesterday my good genius led me past the - post-office, and it occurred to me to ask if there were any letters - for me at the _poste-restante_ (though I think that all my friends - ought long ago to have learnt my Paris address) and I found your - letter, in which you speak of my _Faust_. You can well imagine how - glad I was to read it. Your sympathy gladdened me truly and deeply. - Yes, and from the whole letter there breathes a mild, clear and - friendly peacefulness. It remains for me to hold out my hand across - the 'ravine' which has long since become a hardly perceptible - crack, about which we will speak no more--it is not worth it. - - I fear to speak of one thing you mention: it is a delicate - matter,--words may blight such things before they are ripe, but - when they are ripe a hammer will not break them. God grant that all - may turn out favourably and well. It may bring you that spiritual - repose which you lacked when I knew you. - - You have, I see, now become very intimate with Drouzhinin--and are - under his influence. That is right, only take care not to swallow - too much of him. When I was your age, only men of enthusiastic - natures influenced me; but you are built differently, and perhaps - also the times are changed.... Let me know in which numbers of the - _Contemporary_ your _Youth_ will appear; and by the way, let me - know the final impression made on you by _Lear_, which you probably - have read, if only for Drouzhinin's sake. - -About the same time Tourgenef wrote to Drouzhinin: - - I hear that you have become very intimate with Tolstoy--and he has - become very pleasant and serene. I am very glad. When that new wine - has finished fermenting, it will yield a drink fit for the Gods. - What about his _Youth_, which was sent for your verdict? - -The allusion to Drouzhinin's translation of _King Lear_ is worth -noticing because fully fifty years later it was this play that Tolstoy -selected for hostile analysis in his famous attack on Shakespear. -One gathers from a letter written by V. P. Botkin, that Drouzhinin's -rendering impressed Tolstoy favourably at the time. - -Before quoting Drouzhinin's criticism of _Youth_, it will be in place -to mention other works by Tolstoy, not yet enumerated, which appeared -at this period. _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_, giving a glimpse of -temptations Tolstoy had experienced, was published in January 1855, -while he was in Sevastopol. In January 1856 came _Sevastopol in -August_. In March 1856 appeared _The Snow Storm_. In May 1856 came a -rollicking tale, with flashes of humour like that of Charles Lever, -entitled _Two Hussars_. It is the only story Tolstoy ever wrote in -that vein; and in it are introduced gipsy singers such as those of -whom repeated mention occurs in his letters. In December, before he -went abroad, two more tales were published: one of these, entitled -_Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment_, containing a -scathing portrayal of the cowardice a man, who had passed muster in -'good society,' displayed when circumstances put him to the test. The -other story, _A Squire's Morning_, is closely drawn from Tolstoy's -own experience when on first leaving the University he settled on -his estate and attempted to better the condition of his serfs. Their -stolidity, their distrust, and the immense difficulty of introducing -any changes, are all brought out. - -In a letter to Drouzhinin, Tourgenef wrote: - - I have read his _Squire's Morning_, which pleased me exceedingly - by its sincerity and almost complete freedom of outlook. I say - 'almost' because in the way he set himself the task, there still - is hidden (without his perhaps being aware of it) a certain - amount of prejudice. The chief moral impression produced by the - story (leaving the artistic impression aside) is that so long - as the state of serfdom exists, there is no possibility of the - two sides drawing together, despite the most disinterested and - honourable desire to do so; and this impression is good and true. - But beside it, like a horse cantering beside a trotter, there is - another: namely, that in general to try to enlighten or improve the - condition of the peasants leads to nothing; and this impression is - unpleasant. But the mastery of language, the way it is told, and - his character-drawing, are grand. - - -1857 - -In January 1857 appeared _Youth_, the continuation of _Childhood_ and -_Boyhood_. - -How great Drouzhinin's influence was with Tolstoy at this time, may be -judged by the tone of his letter to him, giving an opinion on _Youth_. -He writes: - - About _Youth_ one ought to write twenty pages. I read it with - anger, with yells and with oaths--not on account of its literary - quality, but because of the quality of the notebooks in which - it is written, and the handwritings. The mixing of two hands, - a known and an unknown, diverted my attention and hindered an - intelligent perusal. It was as though two voices shouted in my ear - and purposely distracted my attention, and I know that this has - prevented my receiving an adequate impression. All the same I will - say what I can. Your task was a terrible one, and you have executed - it very well. No other writer of our day could have so seized and - sketched the agitated and disorderly period of youth. To those who - are developed, your _Youth_ will furnish an immense pleasure; and - if any one tells you it is inferior to _Childhood_ and _Boyhood_ - you may spit in his physiognomy. There is a world of poetry in - it--all the first chapters are admirable; only the introduction is - dry till one reaches the description of spring.... In many chapters - one scents the poetic charm of old Moscow, which no one has yet - reproduced properly. Some chapters are dry and long: for instance - all the stipulations with Dmitry Nehludof.... The conscription of - Semyonof will not pass the Censor. - - Do not fear your reflections, they are all clever and original. But - you have an inclination to a super-refinement of analysis which may - become a great defect. You are sometimes on the point of saying - that so-and-so's thigh indicated that he wished to travel in India. - You must restrain this tendency, but do not extinguish it on any - account. All your work on your analyses should be of the same kind. - Each of your defects has its share of strength and beauty, and - almost every one of your qualities carries with it the seed of a - defect. - - Your style quite accords with that conclusion: you are most - ungrammatical, sometimes with the lack of grammar of a reformer - and powerful poet reshaping a language his own way and for ever, - but sometimes with the lack of grammar of an officer sitting in a - casemate and writing to his chum. One can say with assurance that - all the pages you have written with love are admirable,--but as - soon as you grow cold, your words become entangled, and diabolical - forms of speech appear. Therefore the parts written coldly should - be revised and corrected. I tried to straighten out some bits, but - gave it up; it is a work which only you can and must do. Above - all, avoid long sentences. Cut them up into two or three; do not - be sparing of full-stops.... Do not stand on ceremony with the - particles, and strike out by dozens the words: _which_, _who_, and - _that_. When in difficulties, take a sentence and imagine that you - want to say it to some one in a most conversational way. - -As a translator I may testify that Tolstoy never fully learned the -lesson Drouzhinin here set him, and that to the very last he continued -occasionally to intermingle passages of extraordinary simplicity and -force with sentences that defy analysis and abound in redundances. - -Nearly fifty years later Tolstoy himself criticised the subject-matter -of _Childhood_, _Boyhood_, and _Youth_ as follows: - - I have re-read them and regret that I wrote them; so ill, - artificially and insincerely are they penned. It could not be - otherwise: first, because what I aimed at was not to write my own - history but that of the friends of my youth, and this produced - an awkward mixture of the facts of their and my own childhood; - and secondly, because at the time I wrote it I was far from - being independent in my way of expressing myself, being strongly - influenced by two writers: Sterne (his _Sentimental Journey_) and - Toepffer (his _Bibliotheque de Mon Oncle_). - - I am now specially dissatisfied with the two last parts. _Boyhood_ - and _Youth_, in which besides an awkward mixture of truth and - invention, there is also insincerity: a desire to put forward as - good and important what I did not then consider good and important, - namely, my democratic tendency. - -Before concluding this chapter it will be in place to give a list of -books Tolstoy mentions as having influenced him after he left the -University and before his marriage. They were: Goethe's _Hermann -und Dorothea_; Hugo's _Notre Dame de Paris_; Plato's _Phaedo_ and -_Symposium_ (in Cousin's French translation); and the _Iliad_ and -_Odyssey_ in Russian versions. All these, he says, had a 'very great' -influence on him, while the poems of his compatriots, Tutchef, Koltsof, -and his friend Fet, had 'great' influence. - -He tells us that artistic talent in literature influenced him more than -any political or social tendency; and this is quite in accord both with -his highly artistic nature and with his general apathy towards public -affairs. There was a Slavophil theory (built to justify things as they -were) which proclaimed it natural for a Slavonic people to leave the -task of governing to its rulers, while retaining its intellectual -freedom to disapprove of what was done amiss; and though Tolstoy never -joined the Slavophils, this has been very much his own attitude on the -matter. - -Even in early childhood he had appreciated some of Poushkin's poems, -such as _To the Sea_ and _To Napoleon_, and had learned them by heart -and recited them with feeling; but curiously enough it was the perusal -of Merimee's French prose translation of Poushkin's _Gipsies_ that, -after he was grown up, aroused Tolstoy's keen admiration of Poushkin's -mastery of clear, simple, direct language. Later in life Tolstoy used -to say that Poushkin's prose stories, such as _The Captain's Daughter_, -are his best works; but he never lost his appreciation of Poushkin's -power of expression in verse. In his Diary (4th January 1857) he wrote: - - I dined at Botkin's with Panaef alone; he read me Poushkin; I went - into Botkin's study and wrote a letter to Tourgenef, and then I - sat down on the sofa and wept causeless but blissful tears. I am - positively happy all this time, intoxicated with the rapidity of my - moral progress. - -Despite his headstrong outbursts and many vacillations, he seems to -have been always a welcome guest in almost any society he cared to -frequent, and none of his critics has spoken as harshly of him as he -speaks of himself when describing these - - terrible twenty years of coarse dissipation, the service of - ambition, vanity, and above all of lust.... It is true that not - all my life was so terribly bad as this twenty-year period from - fourteen to thirty-four; and it is true that even that period of my - life was not the continuous evil that during a recent illness it - appeared to me to be. Even during those years, strivings towards - goodness awoke in me, though they did not last long, and were soon - choked by passions nothing could restrain. - -In his _Confession_, written more than twenty years later, when -speaking of his religious beliefs at this time, Tolstoy tells us: - - With all my soul I wished to be good; but I was young, passionate, - and alone, completely alone when I sought goodness. Every time I - tried to express my most sincere desire, namely, to be morally - good, I met with contempt and ridicule; but as soon as I yielded to - nasty passions I was praised and encouraged. - - Ambition, love of power, covetousness, lasciviousness, pride, anger - and revenge--were all respected.... I cannot think of those years - without horror, loathing and heartache. I killed men in war, and - challenged men to duels in order to kill them; I lost at cards, - consumed the labour of the peasants, sentenced them to punishments, - lived loosely and deceived people. Lying, robbery, adultery of all - kinds, drunkenness, violence, murder--there was no crime I did not - commit, and people approved of my conduct, and my contemporaries - considered and consider me to be a comparatively moral man. - - So I lived for ten years. - - During that time I began to write from vanity, covetousness and - pride. In my writings I did the same as in my life. To get fame and - money, for the sake of which I wrote, it was necessary to hide the - good and to show the evil. And I did so. How often in my writings - did I contrive to hide under the guise of indifference or even - of banter, those strivings of mine towards goodness, which gave - meaning to my life! And I succeeded in this, and was praised. - - At twenty-six years of age[33] I returned to Petersburg after the - war, and met the writers. They received me as one of themselves and - flattered me. And before I had time to look round I had adopted - the class views on life of the authors I had come among, and these - views completely obliterated all my former strivings to improve. - Those views furnished a theory which justified the dissoluteness - of my life. The view of life of these people, my comrades in - authorship, consisted in this: that life in general goes on - developing, and in this development we--men of thought--have - the chief part; and among men of thought it is we--artists and - poets--who have the chief influence. Our vocation is to teach - mankind. And lest the simple question should suggest itself: What - do I know, and what can I teach? it is explained in this theory - that this need not be known, and that the artist and poet teach - unconsciously. I was considered an admirable artist and poet, and - therefore it was very natural for me to adopt this theory. I, - artist and poet, wrote and taught, without myself knowing what. For - this I was paid money; I had excellent food, lodging, women and - society; and I had fame, which showed that what I taught was very - good. - - [33] Tolstoy makes a slip here: he was over twenty-seven. - - This faith in the meaning of poetry and in the development of life, - was a religion, and I was one of its priests. To be its priest was - very pleasant and profitable. And I lived a considerable time in - this faith without doubting its validity. But in the second, and - especially in the third year of this life, I began to doubt the - infallibility of this religion and to examine it. My first cause of - doubt was that I began to notice that the priests of this religion - were not all in accord among themselves. Some said: We are the best - and most useful teachers; we teach what is wanted, but the others - teach wrongly. Others said: No! we are the real teachers, and you - teach wrongly. And they disputed, quarrelled, abused one another, - cheated, and tricked one another. There were also many among them - who did not care who was right and who was wrong, but were simply - bent on attaining their covetous aims by means of this activity of - ours. All this obliged me to doubt the validity of our creed. - - Moreover, having begun to doubt the truth of the authors' creed - itself, I also began to observe its priests more attentively, and - I became convinced that almost all the priests of that religion, - the writers, were immoral, and for the most part men of bad, - worthless character, much inferior to those whom I had met in my - former dissipated and military life; but they were self-confident - and self-assured as only those can be who are quite holy or who do - not know what holiness is. These people revolted me, and I became - revolting to myself, and I realised that that faith is a fraud. - - But strange to say, though I understood this fraud and renounced - it, yet I did not renounce the rank these people gave me: the rank - of artist, poet, and teacher. I naively imagined that I was a poet - and artist and could teach everybody without myself knowing what I - was teaching, and I acted on that assumption. - - From my intimacy with these men I acquired a new vice: abnormally - developed pride, and an insane assurance that it was my vocation to - teach men, without knowing what. - - To remember that time, and my own state of mind and that of - those men (though there are thousands like them to-day) is sad - and terrible and ludicrous, and arouses exactly the feeling one - experiences in a lunatic asylum. - - We were all then convinced that it was necessary for us to speak, - write, and print as quickly as possible and as much as possible, - and that it was all wanted for the good of humanity. And thousands - of us, contradicting and abusing one another, all printed and - wrote--teaching others. And without remarking that we knew nothing, - and that to the simplest of life's questions: What is good and what - is evil? we did not know how to reply, we all, not listening to one - another, talked at the same time, sometimes backing and praising - one another in order to be backed and praised in turn, sometimes - getting angry with one another--just as in a lunatic asylum. - - Thousands of workmen laboured to the extreme limit of their - strength day and night setting the type and printing millions of - words which the post carried all over Russia, and we still went on - teaching and could nohow find time to teach enough, and were always - angry that sufficient attention was not paid to us. - - It was terribly strange, but is now quite comprehensible. Our - real innermost consideration was, that we wanted to get as much - money and praise as possible. To gain this end we could do nothing - except write books and papers. So we did that. But in order to do - such useless work and feel assured that we were very important - people, we required a theory justifying our activity. And so among - us this theory was devised: 'All that exists develops. And it - all develops by means of Culture. And Culture is measured by the - circulation of books and newspapers. And we are paid money and are - respected because we write books and newspapers, and therefore we - are the most useful and the best of men.' This theory would have - been all very well if we had been unanimous, but as every thought - expressed by one of us was always met by a diametrically opposed - thought expressed by some one else, we ought to have been driven to - reflection. But we ignored this; people paid us money, and those on - our side praised us; so each one of us considered himself justified. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER V - -Birukof. - -Behrs. - -A. Fet (Shenshin): _Moi Vospominaniya_, Moscow, 1890. These -_Recollections_ contain much authentic information about Tolstoy, as -well as a large number of his letters to Fet, which I have quoted in -subsequent chapters. - -Bitovt. - -Golovatcheva-Panaeva, _Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty_: Petersburg, 1890. - -D. V. Grigorovitch, _Literatourniya Vospominaniya_: vol. xii. p. 326. - -G. P. Danilevsky, _Istoritcheskii Vestnik_: March 1886. - -P. A. Sergeyenko, _Tourgenef i Tolstoy_: _Niva_, No. 6, 1906. - -Tolstoy's _Confession_. - -See also, in Tolstoy's works. _The Decembrists_, chap. i. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - TRAVELS ABROAD - -Paris. Relations with Tourgenef. _Albert._ An execution. Switzerland. -_Lucerne._ Yasnaya again. The _Iliad_ and the Gospels. Moscow: -gymnastics. _Three Deaths._ Musical Society. Aunty Tatiana. -'Ufanizing.' Emancipation. Bear-hunting. Moscow Society of Lovers of -Russian Literature. Attitude towards Art in 1859. Tourgenef. Farming. -Fet. Drouzhinin. Nicholas's illness. Goes abroad again. Germany. -Educational studies. Auerbach. Nicholas dies. Life at Hyeres: children. -Italy. Marseilles. Paris. Paul de Kock. London. Herzen. Proudhon. -_Polikoushka._ Auerbach again. Returns home. - - -1857 - -SINCE he took part in the Turkish war in 1854, Tolstoy has only -twice been out of Russia. The first time was at the period we have -now reached. On 10th February 1857 (new style) he left Moscow by -post-chaise for Warsaw, from whence a railway already ran westward. He -reached Paris on 21st February. There he met Tourgenef and Nekrasof, -with the former of whom he was still unable to get on smoothly. -Tourgenef writes: 'With Tolstoy I still cannot become quite intimate; -we see things too differently'; and in some moment of anger Tolstoy -even challenged his fellow-writer to a duel.[34] Nekrasof appears to -have patched matters up, and in March Tolstoy and Tourgenef went to -Dijon together, and spent some days there. During this trip Tolstoy -commenced his story _Albert_, founded on his experience with the -talented but drunken musician Rudolf, already mentioned in Chapter III. -After he had returned to Paris, he was present at an execution, and -made the following jotting in his Diary: - - [34] See Golovatcheva-Panaeva's _Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty_. - - I rose at seven o'clock and drove to see an execution. A stout, - white, healthy neck and breast: he kissed the Gospels, and - then--Death. How senseless.... I have not received this strong - impression for naught. I am not a man of politics. Morals and art I - know, love, and can (deal with). The guillotine long prevented my - sleeping and obliged me to reflect. - -Tolstoy has a gift of telling the essential truth in few words, and -never did he sum himself up better than in the sentences, 'I am not a -man of politics. Morals and art I know, love, and can.' There is hardly -any possible room for doubt about the second sentence, and there is -certainly none about the first, as his whole life shows. - -Many years later, he wrote of this event in his _Confession_: - - When I saw the head separate from the body, and how they both - thumped into the box at the same moment, I understood, not with my - mind but with my whole being, that no theory of the reasonableness - of our present progress can justify this deed; and that though - everybody from the creation of the world, on whatever theory, had - held it to be necessary, I know it to be unnecessary and bad; and - therefore the arbiter of what is good and evil is not what people - say and do, and is not progress, but is my heart and I. - -It was probably during this visit to Paris that Tolstoy witnessed -and admired Chevet's popularisation of music by an easy system of -instruction, of which he says: - - I have seen hundreds of horny-handed working men sitting on benches - (under which lay the tool-bags they brought from their work) - singing at sight, and understanding and being interested in the - laws of music. - -This experience he utilised later on in his school at Yasnaya. - -In spring he went to Switzerland, and from Geneva he wrote to his Aunt -Tatiana: - - [35]J'ai passe un mois et demi a Paris, et si agreablement que - tous les jours je me suis dit, que j'ai bien fait de venir a - l'etranger. Je suis tres peu alle ni dans la societe, ni dans le - monde litteraire, ni dans le monde des cafes et des bals publics, - mais malgre cela j'ai trouve ici tant de choses nouvelles et - interessantes pour moi, que tous les jours, en me couchant, je me - dis, quel dommage que la journee est passee si vite; je n'ai meme - pas eu le temps de travailler, ce que je me proposais de faire. - - Le pauvre Turgenef est tres malade physiquement et encore plus - moralement. Sa malheureuse liaison avec Madame Viardot, et sa - fille, le retiennent ici dans un climat qui lui est pernicieux et - il fait pitie de voir. Je n'aurais jamais cru qu'il put aimer ainsi. - - [35] I spent a month-and-a-half in Paris, and so agreeably - that every day I said to myself that I had done well to come - abroad. I went very little either into society or into the - literary world, or into the world of _cafes_ and public balls; - but in spite of that I found so many things that were new and - interesting to me, that every day on going to bed I said to - myself, 'What a pity the day has passed so quickly.' I have - not even had time to work, which I intended to do. - - Poor Tourgenef is very ill physically, and still more so - morally. His daughter, and especially his unfortunate - _liaison_ with Madame Viardot, keep him here in a climate - which is bad for him, and it makes one sad to see him. I - should never have believed that he could be so in love. - -Tolstoy's friends Drouzhinin and V. P. Botkin visited Geneva at this -time, and they all three went on a walking tour into Piedmont together. -After that he settled at Clarens on the lake of Geneva, from whence he -again wrote to Aunt Tatiana: - - _18 Mai 1857._ - - [36]Je viens de recevoir votre lettre, chere tante, qui m'a - trouvee comme vous devez le savoir d'apres ma derniere lettre, aux - environs de Geneve a Clarens dans ce meme village, ou a demeure - la Julia de Rousseau.... Je n'essaierai pas de vous depeindre la - beaute de ce pays, surtout a present, quand tout est en feuilles - et en fleurs; je vous dirai seulement, qu'a la lettre il est - impossible de se detacher de ce lac et de ces rivages et que je - passe la plus grande partie de mon temps a regarder et a admirer en - me promenant, ou bien en me mettant seulement a la fenetre de ma - chambre. - - Je ne cesse de me feliciter de l'idee que j'ai eu de quitter Paris - et de venir passer le printemps ici, quoique cela m'ait merite de - votre part le reproche d'inconstance. Vraiment, je suis heureux, - and begin to feel the advantage of having been born with a caul. - - Il y a ici societe charmante de russes: les Poushkins, the - Karamzins and the Mestcherskys; and they have all, Heaven knows - why, taken to liking me; I feel it, and the month I have spent here - I have been so nice and good and cosy, that I am sad at the thought - of leaving. - - [36] I have just received your letter, dear Aunt, which found - me, as you must know from my last letter, at Clarens, in the - neighbourhood of Geneva, in the same village where Rousseau's - Julie lived.... I will not try to depict the beauty of this - country, especially at present when all is in leaf and flower; - I will only say that it is literally impossible to detach - oneself from this lake and from these banks, and that I spend - most of my time gazing and admiring while I walk, or simply - sit at the window of my room. - - I do not cease congratulating myself on the thought which made - me leave Paris and come to pass the spring here, though I - have thereby deserved your reproach for inconstancy. Truly I - am happy, and begin to feel the advantage of having been born - with a caul. - - There is some charming Russian society here: les Poushkins, - the Karamzins and the Mestcherskys; and they have all, Heaven - knows why, taken to liking me; I feel it, and the month I have - spent here I have been so nice and good and cosy, that I am - sad at the thought of leaving. - -From Clarens he took steamer to Montreux, and from there went on foot, -taking with him as companion a ten-year-old lad named Sasha, the son of -some Russians whose acquaintance he had made at Clarens. They crossed -the Pass of Jamon and, after changing their minds as to the direction -they would take, finally made for Chateau d'Oex, from whence they -proceeded by _diligence_ to Thun. From that town Tolstoy went on to -Lucerne, which he reached in July 1857. - -Again and again in his Diary and letters Tolstoy's vivid delight in -Nature shows itself in descriptions of the scenery: 'It is wonderful,' -he writes, 'but I was at Clarens for two months, and every time--when -in the morning, and especially after dinner towards evening--I opened -the shutters on which the shadows were already falling, and glanced at -the lake and the distant blue of the mountains reflected in it, the -beauty blinded me and acted on me with the force of a surprise.' But -together with this keen appreciation, comes now and then a sort of -protest that this grandiose Swiss mountain scenery is, after all, not -the Nature that most appeals to him--a yearning for the vast steppes -and forests of his native land. After ascending the Pass of Jamon and -describing the magnificent scenery and the pleasure of the climb, he -adds: - - It was something beautiful, even unusually beautiful, but I do not - love what are called magnificent and remarkable views: they are, as - it were, cold.... I love Nature when, though it surrounds me on all - sides and extends unendingly, I am part of it. I love it, when on - all sides I am surrounded by hot air, and that same air rolls away - to unending distance, and those same sappy leaves of grass which I - crush as I sit on them, form the green of the boundless meadows; - when those same leaves which, fluttering in the wind, run their - shadows across my face, form also the dark blue of the distant - forests; while the same air one breathes makes the deep, light blue - of the immeasurable sky; when you do not exult and rejoice alone in - Nature, but when around you myriads of insects buzz and whirl, and - beetles, clinging together, creep about, and all around you birds - overflow with song. - - But this is bare, cold, desolate, grey plateau; and somewhere afar - there is something beautiful veiled with mist. But that something - is so distant that I do not feel the chief delight of Nature--do - not feel myself a part of that endless and beautiful distance: it - is foreign to me. - -From Lucerne he writes: - - [37]Je suis de nouveau tout seul, et je vous avouerai que tres - souvent la solitude m'est penible, car les connaissances qu'on fait - dans les hotels et en chemin de fer ne sont pas des ressources; - mais cet isolement a du moins le bon cote de me pousser au travail. - Je travaille un peu, mais cela va mal, comme d'ordinaire en ete. - - [37] I am again all alone, and I confess that very often the - solitude is painful to me, for the acquaintanceships one makes - in hotels and on the railways are not a resource. But there is - at least this much good in this loneliness--it prompts me to - work. I am working a little, but it goes badly, as usual in - summer. - -It was here that the incident occurred described in _Lucerne_, a sketch -published in the September number of the _Contemporary_ that same year, -and one which in its fierce castigation of the rich is a precursor of -much that he wrote thirty years later. Especially the conduct of the -wealthy English tourists roused his ire. The particular incident the -story deals with is this: - - On 7 July 1857, in Lucerne, in front of the Schweizerhof Hotel, - where the richest people stay, an itinerant mendicant-singer sang - songs and played his guitar for half-an-hour. About a hundred - people listened to him. Three times the singer asked them to give - him something, but not one of them did so, and many laughed at him. - - This is not fiction, but a positive fact, which any one who cares - may verify by asking the permanent inhabitants of the Schweizerhof, - and by looking up the newspaper lists of foreign visitors at the - Schweizerhof on 7 July. - - It is an event which the historians of our times should inscribe in - indelible letters of fire. - -In the story, Prince Nehludof, indignant at such treatment of a man who -was a real artist and whose songs all had enjoyed, brought the singer -into the hotel and treated him to a bottle of wine. He goes on to ask -himself: - - Which is more a man, and which more a barbarian: the lord who, on - seeing the singer's worn-out clothes, angrily left the table, and - for his service did not give him a millionth part of his property, - and who now sits satiated, in a well-lit, comfortable room, calmly - discussing the affairs of China and approving the murders that are - being committed there--or the little singer who with a franc in - his pocket, risking imprisonment, has tramped over hill and dale - for twenty years, harming no one but cheering many by his songs, - and whom they insulted to-day and all but turned out, leaving - him--weary, hungry and humiliated--to make his bed somewhere on - rotting straw? - -After passing a few weeks at Lucerne, Tolstoy returned to Russia _via_ -Stuttgart, Berlin, and Stettin, from which port he took steamer to -Petersburg, and after staying a week there to see Nekrasof and meet his -colleagues of the _Contemporary_, he went through Moscow to Yasnaya, -where he arrived in August. In his Diary we find this note: - - This is how, on my journey, I planned my future occupations: first, - literary work; next, family duties; then, estate management. - But the estate I must leave as far as possible to the steward, - softening him and making improvements, and spending only Rs. 2000 - a year [then equal to about L270], and using the rest for the - serfs. Above all, my stumbling-block is Liberal vanity. To live for - oneself and do a good deed a day, is sufficient. - -Further on he says: 'Self-sacrifice does not lie in saying "Take what -you like from me," but in labouring and thinking, and contriving how to -give oneself.' - -At this time he read (in translation) the _Iliad_ and the Gospels, -which both impressed him greatly. 'I have finished reading the -indescribably beautiful end of the _Iliad_,' he notes, and expresses -his regret that there is no connection between those two wonderful -works. - -In October he first accompanied his brother Nicholas and his sister -Mary to Moscow, and then spent a few days in Petersburg, where he found -that he had been forgotten by a world absorbed in the great measures of -public reform then in course of preparation. Here is a sentence from -his Diary: - - Petersburg at first mortified me and then put me right. My - reputation has fallen and hardly gives a squeak, and I felt much - hurt; but now I am tranquil. I know I have something to say and - strength to say it strongly; and the public may then say what it - will. But I must work conscientiously, exerting all my powers; then - ... let them spit upon the altar. - -By the end of October (old style) he was back in Moscow, established in -furnished apartments in the Pyatnitsky Street, with his sister and his -brother Nicholas. His friend Fet was also in Moscow at this time, and -in his _Recollections_ makes frequent mention of the Tolstoys. He tells -us that the Countess Mary (who was an exceedingly accomplished pianist) -used to come to his house for music in the evenings, accompanied -sometimes by both her brothers and sometimes by Nicholas alone, who -would say: - -'Lyovotchka has again donned his evening clothes and white necktie, and -gone to a ball.' - -Tolstoy's elegance in dress was very noticeable at this period. We read -of the grey beaver collar of his overcoat, of a fashionable cane he -carried, and of the glossy hat he wore placed on one side, as well as -of his curly, dark-brown hair. - -Gymnastics were fashionable in Moscow in those days, and any one -wishing to find Tolstoy between one and two o'clock in the afternoon, -could do so at the Gymnasium on the Great Dmitrovka Street, where, -dressed in gymnastic attire, he might be seen intent on springing over -the vaulting-horse without upsetting a cone placed on its back. He -always was expert at physical exercises: a first-rate horseman, quick -at all games and sports, a swimmer, and an excellent skater. - -Among the visitors Fet met at Tolstoy's house we note the name of -Saltykof, who under the pseudonym of Stchedrin is known as one of the -keenest and most powerful of Russia's satirists, and who during the -last seven years of the reign of Nicholas I had lived in banishment -in the far-off town of Vyatka. Another guest was B. N. Tchitcherin, -philosopher and jurist, and author of works on _Science and Religion_, -_Property and the State_, and other subjects Tolstoy dealt with three -or four decades later. Katkof, editor of the _Moscow Gazette_ and -monthly _Russian Messenger_, was another acquaintance; and in his -magazine some of Tolstoy's chief works appeared. - - -1858 - -In January 1858 Tolstoy's aunt, who had been a friend of his boyhood, -the Countess Alexandra A. Tolstoy, Maid of Honour to the Grand Duchess -Marya Nikolayevna, came to Moscow. Through this aunt (who lived to -a great age, and died only a few years ago) Tolstoy used to receive -information of what went on at Court, and was sometimes able indirectly -to exert influence 'in the highest circles.' When she returned to -Petersburg Tolstoy accompanied her as far as the town of Klin, on -the Nicholas railway, and took the opportunity to visit the Princess -Volkonsky (a cousin of his mother's), who had a small estate in those -parts. He remained some weeks with this affectionate old lady, who -told him much about his mother and her family, and he greatly enjoyed -his quiet stay with her. At her house he wrote _Three Deaths_, which -appeared the following January in _The Reading Library_. It is an -admirably written study of the deaths of a rich lady, a poor post-horse -driver, and a tree. - -In February he returned to Yasnaya Polyana; then again visited Moscow, -and in March spent a fortnight in Petersburg. His love of music -reasserted itself strongly at this period; and in conjunction with V. -P. Botkin, Perfilief, Mortier (his late rival in love) and others, -he founded the Moscow Musical Society, which ultimately resulted in -the formation of the Moscow Conservatoire of which Nicholas Rubinstein -became Director. - -One of Tolstoy's most intimate acquaintances at this period was S. T. -Aksakof, author of stories and memoirs, lover of hunting and fishing, -and father of two famous sons, both prominent Slavophil leaders. - -The invigorating influence of spring shows itself in a letter Tolstoy -wrote about this time to his aunt, the Countess A. A. Tolstoy (whom he -calls 'Grandma'): - - GRANDMA!--Spring! - - For good people it is excellent to live in the world; and even - for such men as me, it is sometimes good. In Nature, in the - air, in everything, is hope, future--an attractive future.... - Sometimes one deceives oneself and thinks that happiness and a - future await not only Nature but oneself also, and then one feels - happy. I am now in such a state, and with characteristic egotism - hasten to write to you of things that interest only me. When I - review things sanely, I know very well that I am an old, frozen - little potato, and one already boiled with sauce; but spring so - acts on me that I sometimes catch myself in the full blaze of - imagining myself a plant which with others has only now blossomed, - and which will peacefully, simply and joyfully grow in God's - world. The result is that at this time of year, such an internal - clearing-out goes on in me, such a cleansing and ordering, as - only those who have experienced this feeling can imagine. All the - old--away! All worldly conventions, all idleness, all egotism, - all vices, all confused indefinite attachments, all regrets, even - repentances--away with you all!... Make room for the wonderful - little flowers whose buds are swelling and growing with the - spring!... - -After much more he concludes: - - Farewell, dear Grandma, do not be angry with me for this nonsense, - but answer with a word of wisdom, imbued with kindness, Christian - kindness! I have long wished to say that for you it is pleasanter - to write French, and I understand feminine thoughts better in - French. - -In April he was again at Yasnaya where, in spite of repeated visits to -Moscow, he spent most of the summer. There was at this time no railway -from Moscow southward to Toula; and the serfs' belief concerning the -new telegraph posts which stood by the side of the highroad, was that -when the wire had been completed, 'Freedom' would be sent along it -from Petersburg. Even Tatiana Alexandrovna Ergolsky did not understand -these new-fangled things, and, when driving along the road one day, -asked Tolstoy to explain how letters were written by telegraph. He told -her as simply as he could how the telegraphic apparatus works, and -received the reply: '_Oui, oui, je comprends, mon cher!_' How much she -had really understood was however shown half an hour later when, after -keeping her eye on the wire all that time, she inquired: 'But how is -it, _mon cher Leon_, that during a whole half-hour I have not seen a -single letter go along the telegraph?' - -Fet and his wife used to stay a day or two at Yasnaya when journeying -to and from Moscow, and Fet's account of Aunt Tatiana accords with -Tolstoy's own affectionate recollections of that lady. Fet says that -he and his wife 'made the acquaintance of Tolstoy's charming old aunt, -Tatiana Alexandrovna Ergolsky, who received us with that old-world -affability which puts one at once at one's ease on entering a new -house. She did not devote herself to memories of times long past, but -lived fully in the present.' - -Speaking of them all by their pet names, she mentioned that -'Seryozhenka Tolstoy had gone to his home at Pirogovo, but Nikolenka -would probably stay a bit longer in Moscow with Mashenka, but -Lyovotchka's friend Dyakof had recently visited them,' and so on. - -Many years later, Tolstoy jotted down his memories of the long autumn -and winter evenings spent with Aunt Tatiana to which, he says, he -owed his best thoughts and impulses. He would sit in his arm-chair -reading, thinking, and occasionally listening to her kindly and gentle -conversation with two of the servants: Natalya Petrovna (an old woman -who lived there not because she was of much use, but because she had -nowhere else to live) and a maid Dounetchka. - - The chief charm of that life lay in the absence of any material - care; in good relations with those nearest--relations no one could - spoil; and in the leisureliness and the unconsciousness of flying - time.... - - When, after living badly at a neighbour's in Toula, with cards, - gipsies, hunting, and stupid vanity, I used to return home and - come to her, by old habit we would kiss each other's hand, I her - dear energetic hand, and she my dirty, vicious hand; and also by - old habit, we greeted one another in French, and I would joke with - Natalya Petrovna, and would sit down in the comfortable arm-chair. - She knew well all I had been doing and regretted it, but never - reproached me, retaining always the same gentleness and love.... - I was once telling her how some one's wife had gone away with - another man, and I said the husband ought to be glad to be rid - of her. And suddenly my aunt lifted her eyebrows and said, as a - thing long decided in her mind, that that would be wrong of the - husband, because it would completely ruin the wife. After that she - told me of a drama that had occurred among the serfs. Then she - re-read a letter from my sister Mashenka, whom she loved if not - more, at least as much as she loved me, and she spoke of Masha's - husband (her own nephew) not to condemn him, but with grief for - the sorrow he inflicted on Mashenka.... The chief characteristic - of her life, which involuntarily infected me, was her wonderful, - general kindliness to every one without exception. I try to recall - a single instance of her being angry, or speaking a sharp word, - or condemning any one, and I cannot recall one such instance in - the course of thirty years. She spoke well of our real aunt, who - had bitterly hurt her by taking us away from her.... As to her - kindly treatment of the servants--that goes without saying. She - had grown up in the idea that there are masters and servants, but - she utilised her authority only to serve them.... She never blamed - me directly for my evil life, though she suffered on my account. - My brother Sergey, too, whom also she loved warmly, she did not - reproach even when he took a gipsy girl to live with him. The only - shade of disquietude she showed on our account was that, when he - was very late in returning home, she would say: 'What has become of - our Sergius?' Only _Sergius_ instead of _Seryosha_.... She never - told us in words how to live, never preached to us. All her moral - work was done internally; externally one only saw her deeds--and - not even deeds: there were no deeds; but all her life, peaceful, - sweet, submissive and loving, not troubled or self-satisfied, but - a life of quiet, unobtrusive love.... Her affectionateness and - tranquillity made her society noticeably attractive and gave a - special charm to intimacy with her. I know of no case where she - offended any one, and of no one who did not love her. She never - spoke of herself, never of religion or of what we ought to believe, - or of how she believed or prayed. She believed everything, except - that she rejected one dogma--that of eternal torment. '_Dieu, qui - est la bonte meme, ne peut pas vouloir nos souffrances._'[38]... - She often called me by my father's name (Nicholas) and this pleased - me very much, because it showed that her conceptions of me and of - my father mingled in her love of us both. - - [38] God, who is goodness itself, cannot desire our pain. - - It was not her love for me alone that was joyous. What was joyous - was the atmosphere of love to all who were present or absent, alive - or dead, and even to animals.... - -After telling of her goodness and her affection Tolstoy says in his -Memoirs that, though he appreciated his happiness with her, he did not -at the time nearly realise its full value; and he adds: - - She was fond of keeping sweets: figs, gingerbreads and dates, in - various jars in her room. I cannot forget, nor remember without - a cruel pang of remorse, that I repeatedly refused her money she - wanted for such things and how she, sighing sadly, remained - silent. It is true I was in need of money, but I cannot now - remember without horror that I refused her. - -Again in another place, after mentioning her self-devotion, he says: - - And it was to her, to her, that I refused the small pleasure of - having figs and chocolate (and not so much for herself as to - treat me) and of being able to give a trifle to those who begged - of her.... Dear, dear Aunty, forgive me! _Si jeunesse savait, si - vieillesse pouvait_ [if youth but knew, if age but could], I mean - not in the sense of the good lost for oneself in youth, but in the - sense of the good not given and the evil done to those who are no - more. - -Of Leo's life at Yasnaya at this time, his brother Nicholas gave Fet -the following humorous account: - - Lyovotchka is zealously trying to become acquainted with peasant - life and with farming, of both of which, like the rest of us, he - has till now had but a superficial knowledge. But I am not sure - what sort of acquaintance will result from his efforts: Lyovotchka - wants to get hold of everything at once, without omitting - anything--even his gymnastics. So he has rigged up a bar under his - study window. And of course, apart from prejudice, with which he - wages such fierce war, he is right: gymnastics do not interfere - with farming; but the steward sees things differently and says, - 'One comes to the master for orders, and he hangs head downward - in a red jacket, holding on by one knee to a perch, and swings - himself. His hair hangs down and blows about, the blood comes to - his face, and one does not know whether to listen to his orders or - to be astonished at him!' - - Lyovotchka is delighted with the way the serf Ufan sticks out his - arms when ploughing; and so Ufan has become for him an emblem of - village strength, like the legendary Michael; and he himself, - sticking his elbows out wide, takes to the plough and 'Ufanizes.' - -In May 1858 Tolstoy wrote to Fet: - - DEAREST LITTLE UNCLE [as we might say, Dear old Boy]!--I write - two words merely to say that I embrace you with all my might, - have received your letter, kiss the hand of Marya Petrovna [Fet's - wife] and make obeisance to you all. Aunty thanks you very much - for your message and bows to you, so also does my sister. What a - wonderful spring it has been and is! I, in solitude, have tasted it - admirably. Brother Nicholas must be at Nikolsk. Catch him and do - not let him go. I want to come to see you this month. Tourgenef has - gone to Winzig till August to cure his bladder. - - Devil take him. I am tired of loving him. He deserts us, and won't - cure his bladder. - - Now good-bye, dear friend. If you have no poem ready for me by the - time I come, I shall proceed to squeeze one out of you.--Your - - COUNT L. TOLSTOY. - -Another letter to Fet runs: - - Ay, old fellow, ahoy! First, you give no sign, though it is - spring and you know we are all thinking of you, and that I, like - Prometheus, am bound to a rock, yet thirst for sight or sound - of you. You should either come, or at least send us a proper - invitation. Secondly, you have retained my brother, and a very good - brother, surnamed 'Firdusi' [an allusion to Nicholas's Oriental - wisdom]. The chief culprit in this matter, I suspect, is Marya - Petrovna, to whom I humbly bow, requesting her to return us our own - brother. Jesting apart, he bids me let you know that he will be - here next week. Drouzhinin will also come, so mind you come too, - old fellow. - -The first record of any participation by Tolstoy in political affairs -relates to the preparations for the Emancipation of the serfs. -Immediately after the conclusion of the Crimean war Alexander II, -addressing the Marshals of the Nobility, in Moscow, had said: 'The -existing manner of possessing serfs cannot remain unchanged. It is -better to abolish serfdom from above than to await the time when it -will begin to abolish itself from below. I request you, gentlemen, to -consider how this can be done, and to submit my words to the Nobility -for their consideration.' Some time passed without any definite -response to this appeal, and meanwhile the Polish nobility of the -Lithuanian Provinces, dissatisfied with certain regulations enacted -in the previous reign, incautiously asked to have them revised. The -Government grasped the opportunity, and treating this as the expression -of a wish for Emancipation, replied that 'the abolition of serfdom must -be effected not suddenly, but gradually,' and authorised the Nobility -to form Committees for the preparation of definite projects to that -end. Four days later the Minister of the Interior, acting on secret -orders from the Emperor, sent a circular to all the Governors and -Marshals of the Nobility in Russia proper, stating that the Lithuanian -nobles 'had recognised the necessity of liberating the peasants,' -and that 'this noble intention' had afforded peculiar satisfaction -to His Majesty, and explaining the principles to be observed in -case the nobles of other Provinces should express a similar desire. -A few weeks later the Emperor publicly expressed a hope that, with -the co-operation of his nobles, the work of Emancipation would be -successfully accomplished. It therefore became quite evident that, -whether the nobles liked it or not, Emancipation was at hand; since -the Emperor had, at last, definitely ranged himself on the side of -the Emancipationists. By accepting the invitation to co-operate in -the preparation of the scheme, there appeared to be a chance that -the nobles might so shape the measure that their interests would not -suffer; and consequently, during 1858, a Committee was chosen in -almost every Province of Central Russia. Among the rest a Meeting of -the Nobility of the Government of Toula was fixed for the first of -September, to elect Deputies to the Committee for the Improvement of -the Condition of the Peasants. Tolstoy attended this meeting, and -together with one hundred and four fellow-nobles signed a document -stating that 'with the object of improving the condition of the -peasants, preserving the property of the landowners, and securing -the safety of both the one and the other, we consider it necessary -that the peasants should be liberated not otherwise than with an -allotment of a certain amount of land in hereditary possession, and -that the landowners should receive for the land they give up, full, -equitable, pecuniary recompense by means of such financial measures -as will not entail any obligatory relations between peasants and -proprietors,--relations which the Nobility consider it necessary to -terminate.' - -There is no indication that Tolstoy took any prominent part in -this meeting; and the resolution just quoted, while approving of -Emancipation, seems to attach at least equal importance to securing -full compensation for the landowners. Explain it how one may, the fact -remains that while the _Contemporary_, and all that was progressive -in Russian literature, was preoccupied with the effort to help to -shape the reforms so that they might really attain the ends aimed at, -Tolstoy almost retired from the scene, and hardly appeared aware of -the movement going on around him. The battle for freedom was fought -in the press by Tchernyshevsky, Koshelef, and N. Samarin, by Herzen, -and by many others, including Nekrasof and Saltykof; and Tolstoy's -indifference helps to explain the fact, already alluded to, that -during these years the critics ignored him, though his artistic -power continued to increase. His friend Fet also took no part in the -Emancipation movement; being in fact rather opposed to it. - -On 24th October 1858 Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - To write stories is stupid and shameful. To write verses--well, - write them; but to love a good man is very pleasant. Yet perhaps, - against my will and intention, not I, but an unripe story inside - me, compels me to love you. It sometimes seems like that. Do what - one will amid the manure and the mange, one somehow begins to - compose. Thank heaven, I have not yet allowed myself to write, and - will not do so.... Thank you exceedingly for your trouble about - a veterinary. I have found one in Toula and have begun the cure, - but I do not know what will come of it.--And, may the devil take - them all,--Drouzhinin is appealing to me as a matter of friendship - to write a story. I really want to. I will spin such a yarn that - there will be no head or tail to it.... But joking apart, how is - your Hafiz getting on? [Fet was translating some poems by Hafiz.] - Turn it which way you will, the height of wisdom and fortitude for - me is to enjoy the poetry of others, and not to let my own in ugly - garb loose among men, but to consume it myself with my daily bread. - But at times one suddenly wishes to be a great man, and it is so - annoying that this has not yet come about! One even hurries to get - up quicker or to finish dinner in order to begin.... Send me a - poem, the healthiest of those you have translated from Hafiz, _me - faire venir l'eau a la bouche_,[39] and I will send you a sample of - wheat. Hunting has bored me to death. The weather is excellent, but - I do not hunt alone. - - [39] To make my mouth water. - -In company, Tolstoy was however a keen sportsman, and in December 1858 -nearly lost his life while out bear-shooting. He has told the story, -with some embellishments, in one of the tales for children contained in -the volume. _Twenty-three Tales_.[40] The real facts were these: - - [40] Included in the _World's Classics_. - -Tolstoy and his brother Nicholas had made the acquaintance of S. -S. Gromeka, a well-known publicist who shared their fondness for -hunting--a sport very different in Russia from what it is in England, -as readers of Tolstoy's descriptions well know. - -Gromeka having heard that a she-bear with two young ones had her -lair in the forest near the railway at Volotchok, half-way between -Petersburg and Moscow, arranged matters with the peasants of that -locality, and invited the Tolstoys and other guests to a hunt. The -invitation was accepted, and on 21st December Leo Tolstoy shot a bear. -On 22nd the members of the party, each armed with two guns, were placed -at the ends of cuttings running through the forest in which the big -she-bear had been surrounded. These paths or cuttings divided the wood -like the lines of a chess-board. Peasants employed as beaters were -stationed to prevent the animal escaping except by approaching one or -other of the sportsmen. Ostashkof, a famous professional huntsman, -supervised the proceedings. The guests were advised to stamp down the -snow around them, so as to give themselves room to move freely; but -Tolstoy (with his usual objection to routine methods) argued that as -they were out to shoot the bear and not to box with her, it was useless -to tread down the snow. He therefore stood with his two-barrelled gun -in his hand, surrounded by snow almost up to his waist. - -Tile bear, roused by the shouts of Ostashkof, rushed down a cutting -directly towards one of the other sportsmen; but, perceiving him, -she suddenly swerved from her course and took a cross path which -brought her out on to the cutting leading straight to Tolstoy. He, not -expecting her visit, did not fire until the beast was within six yards, -and his first shot missed. The bear was only two yards from him when -his second shot hit her in the mouth. It failed to stop her rush, and -she knocked Tolstoy over on to his back in the snow. Carried past him -at first by her own impetus, the bear soon returned; and the next thing -Tolstoy knew was that he was being weighed down by something heavy and -warm, and he then felt that his face was being drawn into the beast's -mouth. He could only offer a passive resistance, by drawing down his -head as much as possible between his shoulders and trying to present -his cap instead of his face to the bear's teeth. This state of things -lasted only a few seconds, yet long enough for the bear, after one or -two misses, to get her teeth into the flesh above and below his left -eye. At this moment Ostashkof, armed with a small switch, came running -up, shouting: 'Where are you getting to? Where are you getting to?' -At which the beast promptly took fright, and rushed off. Next day she -was followed up and killed. Owing to the amount of blood and torn -flesh, Tolstoy's wound at first appeared serious; but when it had been -washed with snow, and he had been taken to the nearest town and had had -it sewn up, it turned out to be superficial. He long retained a very -noticeable scar however as a memento of the encounter; and the bear's -skin may still be seen at Yasnaya. - -_Family Happiness_, written partly in 1858, was published early in -1859. It grew out of the unsuccessful love affair mentioned in the last -chapter, and is Tolstoy's imaginative description of what might have -been. - - -1859 - -The first months of 1859 he spent in Moscow, and here on the occasion -of joining the Moscow Society of Lovers of Russian Literature, on -4th February, he for the first time made a public speech: a task for -which, he once told me, he had no aptitude, and which he much disliked. -He wrote it out, and it was to have appeared in the Proceedings of -the Society, but for some reason never got printed. Its subject was -'The Supremacy of the Artistic Element in Literature,' and in it he -maintained a position almost the opposite of the one he advocated so -ardently and with such full conviction in _What is Art?_ forty years -later. - -He was answered by the Slavophil A. S. Homyakof, who presided at the -meeting, and who in the course of his remarks said: - - Allow me to remark that the justice of the opinion you have so - skilfully stated is far from destroying the legitimacy of the - temporary and exceptional side of literature. That which is always - right, that which is always beautiful, that which is as unalterable - as the most fundamental laws of the soul, undoubtedly holds, and - should hold, the first place in the thoughts, the impulses, and - therefore in the speech of man. It, and it alone, will be handed on - by generation to generation and by nation to nation as a precious - inheritance. But on the other hand, in the nature of man and of - society there is continual need for self-indictment. There are - moments, moments important in history, when that self-indictment - acquires a special and indefeasible right, and manifests itself in - literature with great definiteness and keenness.... - - The rights of literature, the servant of eternal beauty, do not - destroy the rights of the literature of indictment, which always - accompanies social deficiencies and sometimes appears as the healer - of social evils.... - - Of course, Art is perfectly free: it finds its justification and - its aim in itself. But the freedom of Art in the abstract, has - nothing to do with the inner life of the artist. An artist is not - a theory--a sphere of thought and mental activity--but a man, and - always a man of his own times, usually its best representative, - completely imbued with its spirit and its defined or nascent - aspirations. By the very impressionability of his nature, without - which he could not be an artist, he, even more than others, - receives all the painful as well as joyous sensations of the - society to which he is born.... - - So the writer, a servant of pure art, sometimes becomes an accuser - even unconsciously, and despite his own will. I allow myself, - Count, to cite you as an example. You consciously follow a definite - road faithfully and undeviatingly; but are you really completely - alien to the literature of indictment? Were it but in the picture - of a consumptive post-boy, dying on top of a stove amid a crowd of - comrades apparently indifferent to his sufferings [this refers to - _Three Deaths_] have you not indicated some social disease, some - evil? When describing that death, is it possible that you did not - suffer from the horny indifference of good but unawakened human - souls? Yes, you too have been and will be an involuntary indicter! - -This question of the true position of literary art and its relation -to the rest of life, was one which occupied Tolstoy for many years, -and on which before the century closed he expressed himself in a book -which must be reckoned with by all who may hereafter deal with the -subject. The attitude he maintained at the time he entered the Society -of Lovers of Russian Literature, was in striking contrast with that -of the Slavophils, such as Homyakof, and of the great majority of the -leading Russian writers of that day, who were fired with the hope of -Emancipation, just as in America at the same time, Lowell, Emerson, -Whittier, Thoreau, Walt Whitman, Longfellow, Channing, Lloyd Garrison, -and others, were stirred by the Anti-Slavery movement. - -In April Tolstoy went to Petersburg and spent ten days very pleasantly -with his aunt the Countess A. A. Tolstoy. By the end of the month he -was back at Yasnaya. In July, Tourgenef, from France, wrote Fet a long -letter in blank verse, a few lines of which indicate the relation -between Leo Tolstoy and himself at this time: - - 'Kiss Nicholas Tolstoy on my behalf - And to his brother Leo make my bow, - --As to his sister also. - He rightly says in his postscriptum: - "There is no cause" for me to write to him, - Indeed, I know he bears me little love - And I love him as little. Too differently - Are mixed those elements of which we're formed.' - - -1859-1860 - -During this winter Tolstoy devoted much time to an attempt to organise -schools on and near his estate. The education of its peasant children -was one of the things Russia most needed, and most terribly neglected. -Tolstoy recognised this, and set himself strenuously and eagerly to -show how the great need could be met. The work he did at this time was, -however, only preliminary to what he undertook after his next visit to -Western Europe, and he was far from being mentally at peace. At the -commencement of the New Year he noted in his Diary: 'The burden of -the estate, the burden of bachelor life, and all sorts of doubts and -pessimistic feelings agitate my mind.' - -One mention of the serfs (who were now nearing freedom) occurs in a -letter Tolstoy wrote to Fet on 23rd February 1860, in reply to a note -in which the latter had expressed a wish to buy an estate, settle down -in the country, and devote himself to farming. Tolstoy replies that -there is an estate for sale adjoining his own, containing: - - Four hundred desyatins of good land with, unfortunately, seventy - souls of bad serfs. But that does not matter; they will gladly pay - quit-rent [in lieu of personal service] as mine do, at the rate of - Rs. 30 a _tyaglo_ [man and wife with an allotment of land] or Rs. - 660 for the twenty-two _tyaglos_, and you will get not less than - that, if not more, at the Emancipation, and will have sufficient - unexhausted land and meadow left to yield about Rs. 2000 a year, - or over Rs. 2600 in all. The price asked for the estate is Rs. - 24,000, besides a mortgage of about Rs. 5000.... At any rate it - would be a good bargain to buy it for Rs. 20,000.... The seller is - an old man who is ruined, and wants to sell it quickly in order to - get rid of his son-in-law. He has twice sent to offer it me. The - above calculation shows what the estate should yield in a couple of - years' time if about Rs. 5000 be spent on improving it; but even - in its present condition one can answer for a return of Rs. 1500, - which is more than 7 per cent. on the cost. - -In Russia to buy serfs was not then considered more discreditable than -it is in England to-day to buy shares in a china or match factory; and -in the same letter Tolstoy goes on to discuss literature: - - I have read Tourgenef's _On the Eve_. This is my opinion: to write - novels is undesirable, especially for people who are depressed - and do not well know what they want from life. However, _On the - Eve_ is much better than _A Nest of Gentlefolk_, and there are in - it excellent negative characters: the artist and the father. The - rest are not types; even their conception, their position, is not - typical, or they are quite insignificant. That however is always - Tourgenef's mistake. The girl is hopelessly bad: 'Ah, how I love - thee ... her eyelashes were long.' In general it always surprises - me that Tourgenef, with his mental powers and poetic sensibility, - should even in his methods not be able to refrain from banality. - This banality shows itself most of all in his negative methods, - which recall Gogol. There is no humanity or sympathy for the - characters, but the author exhibits monsters whom he scolds and - does not pity. This jars painfully with the tone and intention of - Liberalism in everything else. It was all very well in the days of - Tsar Goroh [a character in a fairy story] or of Gogol (though if - one does not pity even the most insignificant of one's characters, - one should scold them so that the heavens grow hot, or laugh at - them so that one's sides split, and not as our splenetic and - dyspeptic Tourgenef does). On the whole, however, there is now no - one else who could write such a novel, though it will not meet with - success. - - Ostrovsky's _The Storm_ is, in my opinion, a wretched work, but - will be successful. Not Ostrovsky and Tourgenef are to blame, but - the times.... Something else is now needed: not that we should - learn and criticise, but that we should teach Jack and Jill at - least a little of what we know. - -This letter to Fet, who was in Moscow, ends with requests to procure -some books, including a veterinary handbook, a veterinary instrument, -and a lancet for use on human beings; to see about procuring six -ploughs of a special make, and to find out the price of clover and -timothy-grass, of which Tolstoy had some to sell. - - -1860 - -At this time Tolstoy worked at his story _The Cossacks_, the plan of -which he had sketched out in 1852, but which he did not complete till -1862. - -One comes across notes in his Diary which indicate his state of mind -at this period with regard to religion. After reading a book on -Materialism he notes: - - I thought of prayer. To what can one pray? What is God, imagined - so clearly that one can ask him to communicate with us? If I - imagine such an one, he loses all grandeur for me. A God whom one - can beseech and whom one can serve--is the expression of mental - weakness. He is God, because I cannot grasp his being. Indeed, he - is not a Being, but a Law and a Force. - -He was a great puzzle to his friends and acquaintances--always ready to -take his own line strenuously, yet sometimes far from sure what that -line was. Tourgenef wrote to Fet: - - Leo Tolstoy continues his eccentricities. Evidently it was so - decreed at his birth. When will he turn his last somersault and - stand on his feet? - -The fact that Tolstoy, like his friend Fet, was neglecting literature -did not fail to call forth many remonstrances, one of the most urgent -of which came to him from Drouzhinin, who wrote: - - Every writer has his moments of doubt and self-dissatisfaction, and - however strong and legitimate this feeling may be, no one on that - account has yet ceased his connection with literature; every one - goes on writing to the end. But all tendencies, good or bad, cling - to you with peculiar obstinacy; so that you, more than others, need - to think of this and to consider the whole matter amicably. - - First of all, remember that after poetry and mental labour all - other work seems worthless. _Qui a bu, boira_; and at the age of - thirty to tear oneself away from authorship means losing half - the interest of life. But that is only half the matter; there is - something still more important. - - On all of us lies a responsibility rooted in the immense importance - of literature to Russian society. An Englishman or an American may - laugh at the fact that in Russia not merely men of thirty, but - grey-haired owners of 2000 serfs sweat over stories of a hundred - pages, which appear in the magazines, are devoured by everybody, - and arouse discussion in society for a whole day. However much - artistic quality may have to do with this result, you cannot - explain it merely by Art. What in other lands is a matter of - idle talk and careless dilettantism, with us is quite another - affair. Among us things have taken such shape that a story--the - most frivolous and insignificant form of literature--becomes one - of two things: either it is rubbish, or else it is the voice of - a leader sounding throughout the Empire. For instance, we all - know Tourgenef's weakness, but a whole ocean divides the most - insignificant of his stories from the very best of Mrs. Eugene - Tour's, with her half-talent. By some strange instinct the Russian - public has chosen from among the crowd of writers four or five - bell-men whom it values as leaders, refusing to listen to any - qualifications or deductions. You--partly by talent, partly by - the practical qualities of your soul, and partly owing simply to - a concurrence of fortunate circumstances--have stepped into this - favourable relation with the public. On that account you must not - go away and hide, but must work, even to the exhaustion of your - strength and powers. That is one side of the matter; but here is - another. You are a member of a literary circle that is honourable - (as far as may be), independent, and influential; and which for ten - years, amid persecutions and misfortunes, and notwithstanding its - members' vices, has firmly upheld the banner of all that is Liberal - and enlightened, and has borne all this weight of abuse without - committing one mean action. In spite of the world's coldness and - ignorance and its contempt for literature, this circle is rewarded - with honour and moral influence. Of course, there are in it - insignificant and even stupid homunculi; but even they play a part - in the general union, and have not been useless. In that circle you - again, though you arrived but recently, have a place and a voice - such as Ostrovsky for instance does not possess, though he has - immense talent and his moral tendency is as worthy as your own. Why - this has happened it would take too long to analyse, nor is it to - the point. If you tear yourself off from the circle of writers and - become inactive, you will be dull, and will deprive yourself of an - important role in society.... - -At this time the state of health of his brother Nicholas--who (like -Demetrius) had consumptive tendencies--began to disturb Leo Tolstoy. -It was arranged that Nicholas should go to Germany for a cure. The -following letter written by Leo Tolstoy to Fet, after Nicholas had -started, refers to this and other matters: - - ... You are a writer and remain a writer, and God speed you. But - that, besides this, you wish to find a spot where you can dig like - an ant, is an idea which has come to you and which you must carry - out, and carry out better than I have done. You must do it because - you are both a good man and one who looks at life healthily.... - However, it is not for me now to deal out to you approval or - disapproval with an air of authority. I am greatly at sixes and - sevens with myself. Farming on the scale on which it is carried - out on my estate, crushes me. To 'Ufanize'[41] is a thing I only - see afar off. Family affairs, Nicholas's illness (of which we have - as yet no news from abroad) and my sister's departure (she leaves - me in three days' time) also crush and occupy me. Bachelor life, - _i.e._ not having a wife, and the thought that it is getting too - late, torments me from a third side. In general, everything is now - out of tune with me. On account of my sister's helplessness and - my wish to see Nicholas, I shall at any rate procure a foreign - passport to-morrow, and perhaps I shall accompany my sister abroad; - especially if we do not receive news, or receive bad news, from - Nicholas. How much I would give to see you before leaving, how - much I want to tell you and to hear from you; but it is now hardly - possible. Yet if this letter reaches you quickly, remember that we - leave Yasnaya on Thursday or more probably on Friday. - - [41] To work like a peasant. The origin of this word is given - on p. 179. - - Now as to farming: The price they ask of you is not exorbitant, - and if the place pleases you, you should buy it. Only why do you - want so much land? I have learned by three years' experience that - with all imaginable diligence it is impossible to grow cereals - profitably or pleasantly on more than 60 or 70 desyatins [160 to - 190 acres] that is, on about 15 desyatins in each of four fields. - Only in that way can one escape trembling for every omission (for - then one ploughs not twice but three or four times) and for every - hour a peasant misses, and for every extra rouble-a-month one pays - him; for one can bring 15 desyatins to the point of yielding 30 - to 40 per cent. on the fixed and working capital; but with 80 or - 100 desyatins under plough one cannot do so. Please do not let this - advice slip past your ears; it is not idle talk, but a result of - experience I have had to pay for. Any one who tells you differently - is either lying or ignorant. More than that, even with 15 desyatins - an all-absorbing industry is necessary. But then one can gain - a reward--one of the pleasantest life gives; whereas with 90 - desyatins one has to labour like a post-horse, with no possibility - of success. I cannot find sufficient words to scold myself for not - having written to you sooner--in which case you would surely have - come to see us. Now farewell. - -Things meanwhile were not going very well with Nicholas, who wrote from -Soden in Hesse-Nassau: - - In Soden we joined Tourgenef, who is alive and well--so well that - he himself confesses that he is 'quite' well. He has found some - German girl and goes into ecstasies about her. We (this relates to - our dearest Tourgenef) play chess together, but somehow it does not - go as it should: he is thinking of his German girl, and I of my - cure.... I shall probably stay in Soden for at least six weeks. I - do not describe my journey because I was ill all the time. - -Eventually Leo Tolstoy made up his mind to accompany his sister and -her children abroad, and on 3rd July (old style) they took steamer -from Petersburg for Stettin _en route_ for Berlin. Besides anxiety on -his brother's account, Tolstoy had another reason for going abroad: he -wished to study the European systems of education, in order to know -what had been accomplished in the line to which he now intended to -devote himself. - -On reaching Berlin he suffered from toothache for four days, and -decided to remain there while his sister proceeded to join Nicholas at -Soden. He consulted a doctor, as he was suffering also from headache -and hemorrhoidal attacks, and he was ordered to take a cure at -Kissingen. - -He only stayed a few days in Berlin after getting rid of his toothache, -and left on 14th July (old style), having however found time to attend -lectures on History by Droysen, and on Physics and Physiology by Du -Bois-Reymond, and having also visited some evening classes for artisans -at the _Handwerksverein_, where he was greatly interested in the -popular lectures, and particularly in the system of 'question-boxes.' -The method of arousing the interest of the audience by allowing them to -propound questions for the lecturer to reply to, was new to him, and he -was struck by the life it brought into the classes, and by the freedom -of mental contact between scholars and teacher. He noticed the same -thing when he was in London a few months later, for he told me that -nothing he saw there interested him more than a lecture he attended -in South Kensington, at which questions were put by working men, and -answered by a speaker who was master of his subject and knew how to -popularise it. - -In Berlin he visited the Moabit Prison, in which solitary confinement -was practised. Tolstoy strongly disapproved of this mechanical attempt -to achieve moral reformation. From Berlin he went to Leipzig, where he -spent a day inspecting schools; but he derived little satisfaction from -the Saxon schools he visited, as is indicated by a remark he jotted -down in his Diary, 'Have been in school--terrible. Prayers for the -King, blows, everything by rote, frightened, paralysed children....' He -then proceeded to Dresden, where he called on the novelist Auerbach, -whose story, _Ein Neues Leben_ (_A New Life_), had much influenced -him. The chief character in that story is Count Fulkenberg, who after -being an officer in the army, gets into trouble, escapes from prison, -buys the passport of a school-master, Eugene Baumann, and under that -name devotes himself to the task of educating peasant children. When -Auerbach entered the room in which his visitor was waiting, the latter -introduced himself with the words: 'I am Eugene Baumann,' in such -solemn tones and with so morose an appearance, that the German writer -was taken aback and feared that he was about to be threatened with an -action for libel. Tolstoy however hastened to add: '--not in name, but -in character--' and went on to explain how good an effect Auerbach's -_Schwarzwaelder Dorfgeschichten_ (_Village Tales of the Black Forest_) -had had on him. - -After three days in Dresden, he went on to Kissingen, which was in -those days about five hours' journey from Soden, where Nicholas was -staying. Still intent on his educational inquiries, he read _en route_ -a history of pedagogics. - -From Kissingen he wrote his Aunt Tatiana that he thought the cure was -doing him good, and added: - - Tell the steward to write me most minutely about the farming, the - harvest, the horses and their illness. Tell the schoolmaster to - write about the school: how many pupils come, and whether they - learn well. I shall certainly return in autumn and intend to - occupy myself more than ever with the school, so I do not wish its - reputation to be lost while I am away, and I want as many pupils as - possible from different parts. - -While in Kissingen he read Bacon and Luther and Riehl, and made the -acquaintance of Julius Froebel, author of _The System of Social -Politics_ and nephew of Froebel, the founder of the Kindergarten -system. Julius Froebel was himself much interested in educational -matters, and was a particularly suitable person to explain his uncle's -ideas to Tolstoy. - -The latter astonished his new acquaintance, with whom he used to go -for walks, by the uncompromising rigidity of his views, which showed -a considerable tinge of Slavophilism. Progress in Russia, declared -Tolstoy, must be based on popular education, which would give better -results in Russia than in Germany, because the Russian people were -still unperverted, whereas the Germans were like children who had -for years been subjected to a bad education. Popular education should -not be compulsory. If it is a blessing, the demand for it should come -naturally, as the demand for food comes from hunger. - -Tolstoy visited the country round Kissingen, and travelling northward -through a part of Germany rich both in scenery and in historic -interest, reached Eisenach and visited the Wartburg, where Luther -was confined after the Diet of Worms. The personality of the great -Protestant reformer interested Tolstoy greatly, and after seeing the -room in which Luther commenced his translation of the Bible, he noted -in his Diary: 'Luther was great'! Twenty years later Tolstoy himself -attempted to free the minds of men from the yoke of an established -Church, and he too shaped his chief weapon against the Church by -translating, not, it is true, like Luther, the whole Bible, but the -Gospels. - -Meanwhile Nicholas Tolstoy's health had been growing worse rather than -better. Sergius, having been unlucky at roulette, decided to return to -Russia, and visiting Leo at Kissingen _en route_, told him of his fears -for Nicholas. On 9th August Sergius left Kissingen and Nicholas himself -arrived there to visit Leo, but soon returned to Soden. Leo then spent -a fortnight in the Harz Mountain district, enjoying nature and reading -a great deal. On 26th August he rejoined Nicholas, his sister and her -children, at Soden. The doctors had decided that Nicholas must winter -in a warmer climate, and the place decided on was Hyeres near Toulon, -on the shores of the Mediterranean. - -The first stage of the journey undertaken by the family party was to -Frankfurt-on-Main, where their aunt, the Countess A. A. Tolstoy, was -staying. She tells the following story of Leo's visit to her on this -occasion: - - One day Prince Alexander of Hesse and his wife were calling on me, - when suddenly the door of the drawing-room opened and Leo appeared - in the strangest garb, suggestive of a picture of a Spanish bandit. - I gasped with astonishment. Leo apparently was not pleased with my - visitors, and soon took his departure. - - [42]'Qui est donc ce singulier personnage?' inquired my visitors in - astonishment. - - 'Mais c'est Leon Tolstoy.' - - 'Ah, mon Dieu, pourquoi ne l'avez vous pas nomme? Apres avoir lu - ses admirables ecrits, nous mourions d'envie de le voir,' said - they, reproachfully. - - [42] Who is that singular person?--inquired my visitors in - astonishment. - - Why, it is Leo Tolstoy! - - Ah, good heavens! Why did you not tell us who it was? - After reading his admirable writings, we were dying to see - him.--said they, reproachfully. - -From Frankfurt the party proceeded to Hyeres, where Nicholas, growing -rapidly worse and worse, died on 20th September (new style). - -Few men have been so admired and loved as he was by all who knew him. -The only thing recorded against him is the fact that when serving in -the Caucasus he, like many of his fellow-officers, gave way to some -extent to intemperance; but after returning home he recovered his -self-control. I have already told of his influence over Leo in the -early days of the Ant-Brotherhood, and of the green stick, buried where -Tolstoy himself wishes his body to lie. Such influence he retained all -through life, and men and women of most different temperaments make -equally enthusiastic mention of his charm and goodness. That Leo's -judgment of what is good and bad has remained strongly influenced by -his love for and memory of Nicholas, is plain enough to all who have -the facts before them and read his works attentively. - -Tourgenef once said: - - The humility which Leo Tolstoy developed theoretically, his brother - actually practised in life. He always lived in the most impossible - lodgings, almost hovels, somewhere in the out-of-the-way quarters - of Moscow, and he willingly shared all he had with the poorest - outcast. He was a delightful companion and narrator, but writing - was to him almost a physical impossibility, the actual process of - writing being as difficult for him as for a labourer whose stiff - hands will not hold a pen. - -Nicholas did, however, as a matter of fact, contribute some _Memoirs of -a Sportsman_ to the _Contemporary_. - -Never was any one's death more sincerely regretted. This is the letter -Leo wrote to Aunt Tatiana, the night the event occurred. - - CHERE TANTE!--The black seal will have told you all. What I have - been expecting from hour to hour for two weeks occurred at nine - o'clock this evening. Only since yesterday did he let me help him - undress, and to-day for the first time he definitely took to his - bed and asked for a nurse. He was conscious all the time, and a - quarter-of-an-hour before he died he drank some milk and told me - he was comfortable. Even to-day he still joked and showed interest - in my educational projects. Only a few minutes before he died he - whispered several times: 'My God, my God!' It seems to me that he - felt his position, but deceived himself and us. Mashenka, only - to-day, some four hours before, had gone three miles out of Hyeres - to where she is living. She did not at all expect it to come so - soon. I have just closed his eyes. I shall now soon be back with - you and will tell you all personally. I do not intend to transport - the body. The funeral will be arranged by the Princess Golitsin, - who has taken it all on herself. - - Farewell, _chere tante_. I cannot console you. It is God's - will--that is all. I am not writing to Seryozha now. He is probably - away hunting, you know where. So let him know, or send him this - letter. - -On the day after the funeral he wrote to Sergius: - - I think you have had news of the death of Nicholas. I am sorry for - you that you were not here. Hard as it is, I am glad it all took - place in my presence, and that it acted on me in the right way--not - like Mitenka's [his third brother, Demetrius] death, of which I - heard when I was not thinking at all about him. However, this is - quite different. With Mitenka only memories of childhood and family - feeling were bound up; but this was a real man both to you and to - me, whom we loved and _respected_ positively more than any one else - on earth. You know the selfish feeling which came latterly, that - the sooner it was over the better; it is dreadful now to write it - and to remember that one thought it. Till the last day, with his - extraordinary strength of character and power of concentration, - he did everything to avoid becoming a burden to me. On the day - of his death he dressed and washed himself, and in the morning I - found him dressed on his bed. Only about nine hours before he died - did he give way to his illness and ask to be undressed. It first - happened in the closet. I went downstairs, and heard his door open. - I returned and did not find him. At first I feared to go to him--he - used not to like it; but this time he himself said, 'Help me!' - - And he submitted and became different that day, mild and gentle. - He did not groan, did not blame any one, praised everybody, and - said to me: 'Thank you, _my friend_.' You understand what that - meant between us. I told him I had heard how he coughed in the - morning, but did not come to him from _fausse honte_ [false shame]. - 'Needlessly,' said he--'it would have consoled me.' Suffering? He - suffered; but it was not until a couple of days before his death - that he once said: 'How terrible these nights without sleep are! - Towards morning the cough chokes one, unendingly! And it hurts--God - knows how! A couple more such nights--it's terrible!' Not once did - he say plainly that he felt the approach of death. But he only did - not _say_ it. On the day of his death he ordered a dressing-gown, - and yet when I remarked that if he did not get better, Mashenka and - I would not go to Switzerland, he replied: 'Do you really think I - shall be better?' in such a tone that it was evident what he felt - but for my sake did not say, and what I for his sake did not show; - all the same, from the morning I knew what was coming, and was with - him all the time. He died quite without suffering--externally, at - all events. He breathed more and more slowly--and it was all over. - The next day I went to him and feared to uncover his face. I - thought it would show yet more suffering and be more terrible than - during his illness; but you cannot imagine what a beautiful face it - was, with his best, merry, calm expression. - - Yesterday he was buried here. At one time I thought of transporting - him, and of telegraphing for you; but I reconsidered it. It is no - use chafing the wound. I am sorry for you that the news will have - reached you out hunting, amid distractions, and will not grip you - as it does us. It is good for one. I now feel what I have often - been told, that when one loses some one who was what he was to us, - it becomes much easier to think of one's own death. - -On 13th October 1860 he notes in his Diary: - - It is nearly a month since Nicholas died. That event has torn me - terribly from life. Again the question: Why? Already the departure - draws near. Whither? Nowhere. I try to write, I force myself, - but do not get on, because I cannot attach enough importance to - the work to supply the necessary strength and patience. At the - very time of the funeral the thought occurred to me to write a - Materialist Gospel, a Life of Christ as a Materialist. - -One sees how bit by bit the seeds of the work Tolstoy was to do in -later years planted themselves in his mind. In early childhood came the -enthusiasm for the Ant-Brotherhood and the influence of his brother, -of Aunt Tatiana, and of the pilgrims; then an acquaintance with the -writings of Voltaire and other sceptics, undermining belief in the -miraculous; then, in Sevastopol, the idea of 'founding a new religion: -Christianity purged of dogmas and mysticism'; then a study of Luther's -Reformation, and now the idea of a rationalist Life of Christ. - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY IN 1860, THE YEAR HIS BROTHER NICHOLAS DIED.] - -On 17th October Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - I think you already know what has happened. On 20 September he - died, literally in my arms. Nothing in my life has so impressed - me. It is true, as he said, that nothing is worse than death. And - when one reflects well that yet _that_ is the end of all, then - there is nothing worse than life. Why strive or try, since of - what was Nicholas Tolstoy nothing remains his? He did not say that - he felt the approach of death, but I know he watched each step - of its approach and knew with certainty how much remained. Some - moments before his death he drowsed off, but awoke suddenly and - whispered with horror: 'What is that?' That was when he saw it--the - absorption of himself into Nothingness. And if he found nothing - to cling to, what can I find? Still less! And assuredly neither I - nor any one will fight it to the last moment, as he did. Two days - before, I said to him: 'We ought to put a commode in your room.' - - 'No,' said he, 'I am weak, but not yet so weak as that; I will - struggle on yet awhile.' - - To the last he did not yield, but did everything for himself, - and always tried to be occupied. He wrote, questioned me about - my writings, and advised me. But it seemed to me that he did all - this not from any inner impulse, but on principle. One thing--his - love of Nature--remained to the last. The day before, he went into - his bedroom and from weakness fell on his bed by the open window. - I came to him, and he said with tears in his eyes, 'How I have - enjoyed this whole hour.' - - From earth we come, and to the earth we go. One thing is left--a - dim hope that there, in Nature, of which we become part in the - earth, something will remain and will be found. - - All who knew and saw his last moments, say: 'How wonderfully - calmly, peacefully he died'; but I know with what terrible pain, - for not one feeling of his escaped me. - - A thousand times I say to myself: 'Let the dead bury their dead.' - One must make some use of the strength which remains to one, but - one cannot persuade a stone to fall upwards instead of downwards - whither it is drawn. One cannot laugh at a joke one is weary of. - One cannot eat when one does not want to. And what is life all - for, when to-morrow the torments of death will begin, with all - the abomination of falsehood and self-deception, and will end - in annihilation for oneself? An amusing thing! Be useful, be - beneficent, be happy while life lasts,--say people to one another; - but you, and happiness, and virtue, and utility, consist of truth. - And the truth I have learned in thirty-two years is, that the - position in which we are placed is terrible. 'Take life as it is; - you have put yourselves in that position.' How! I take life as it - is. As soon as man reaches the highest degree of development, he - sees clearly that it is all nonsense and deception, and that the - truth--which he still loves better than all else--is terrible. That - when you look at it well and clearly, you wake with a start and say - with terror, as my brother did: 'What is that?' - - Of course, so long as the desire to know and speak the truth lasts, - one tries to know and speak. That alone remains to me of the moral - world; higher than that I cannot place myself. That alone I will - do, but not in the form of your art. Art is a lie, and I can no - longer love a beautiful lie. - - I shall remain here for the winter because I am here, and it is - all the same where one lives. Please write to me. I love you as my - brother loved you, and he remembered you to his last moment. - -A month later we find him writing in a different state of mind: - - A boy of thirteen has died in torment from consumption. What for? - The only explanation is given by faith in the compensation of a - future life. If that does not exist, there is no justice, and - justice is vain, and the demand for justice--a superstition. - - Justice forms the most essential demand of man to man. And man - looks for the same in his relation to the universe. Without a - future life it is lacking. Expediency is the sole, the unalterable - law of Nature, say the naturalists. But in the best manifestations - of man's soul: love and poetry--it is absent. This has all existed - and has died--often without expressing itself. Nature, if her one - law be expediency, far o'erstepped her aim when she gave man the - need of poetry and love. - -Nearly twenty years later, in his _Confession_, Tolstoy referred to his -brother's death in the words: - - Another event which showed me that the superstitious belief in - progress is insufficient as a guide to life, was my brother's - death. Wise, good, serious, he fell ill while still a young man, - suffered for more than a year and died painfully, not understanding - why he had lived, and still less why he had to die. No theories - could give me, or him, any reply to these questions during his slow - and painful dying. - -Any one who has read the works Tolstoy wrote during the quarter of a -century which succeeded his brother's death, will be aware how long he -remained in doubt on this matter of a future life, and how he expressed -now one, and now another view. - -At Hyeres he continued to study the question of education, and for that -purpose made many visits to Marseilles. He also wrote: continuing _The -Cossacks_ and commencing an article on Popular Education. We get a -glimpse of him at this period from his sister, who tells us that they -had been invited to an At Home at Prince Doundoukof-Korsakof's; but -Tolstoy, who was to have been the lion of the occasion, failed to put -in an appearance. The company, which included all the 'best' people, -were getting dull, despite everything the hostess could devise for -their amusement, when at last, very late, Count Tolstoy was announced. -The hostess and her guests immediately brightened up; but what was -their astonishment to see him appear in tourist garb and wearing wooden -_sabots_! He had been for a long walk, and returning late, had come to -the party without calling at his lodgings; and no sooner was he in the -room than he began assuring everybody that wooden _sabots_ were the -very best and most comfortable of foot-gear, and advising every one to -adopt them. Even in those days he was a man to whom all things were -allowed, and the evening, instead of being spoilt, became all the gayer -from his eccentricity. There was a great deal of singing, and it fell -to Tolstoy's lot to accompany the singers. - -At Hyeres, after his brother's death, Tolstoy lived with his sister -and her three children in a _pension_ where the only other lodgers -were a Madame Plaksin and her delicate nine-year-old son Sergey, whose -lungs were thought to be affected, but who lived to become a poet -and to publish his recollections of Tolstoy. Plaksin describes him -as having been at that time a strongly built, broad-shouldered man, -with a good-natured smile on his face, which was fringed by a thick, -dark-brown beard. Under a large forehead, still bearing a deep scar -from the wound inflicted by the bear two years before, wise, kind eyes -shone out of very deep sockets. 'Tolstoy,' says Plaksin, 'was the soul -of our little society, and I never saw him dull; on the contrary, he -liked to amuse us with his stories, which were sometimes extremely -fantastic.' Tolstoy rose early, and while he was at work the children -were not allowed to disturb him beyond running in for a moment to say -'good-morning.' Being himself an indefatigable walker, Tolstoy used to -plan out excursions for the company, constantly discovering new places -to visit: the salterns on the peninsula of Porquerolle; the holy hill -where the chapel with the wonder-working image of the Madonna stands; -or the ruins of the castle called _Trou des Fees_. They used to have -with them on these excursions, a small ass carrying provisions, fruit -and wine. - - On the way Tolstoy used to tell us various tales; I remember one - about a golden horse and a giant tree, from the top of which all - the seas and all towns were visible. Knowing that my lungs were - delicate, he often took me on his shoulder and continued his tale - as he walked along. Need I say that we would have laid down our - lives for him? - -At dinner-time Tolstoy used to tell the French proprietors of the -_pension_ the strangest stories about Russia, which they never knew -whether or not to believe until the Countess or Madame Plaksin came to -their rescue by separating the truth from the fiction. - -After dinner, either on the terrace or indoors, a performance -commenced, opera or ballet, to the sound of the piano: the children -'mercilessly tormenting the ears of the audience' (which consisted of -the two ladies, Tolstoy, and Plaksin's nurse). Next came gymnastic -exercises, in which Tolstoy acted as professor. 'He would lie at full -length on the floor, making us do the same, and we had then to get up -without using our hands.' He also contrived an apparatus out of rope, -which he fixed up in the doorway; and on this he performed somersaults, -to the great delight of his juvenile audience. - -When the latter became too turbulent and the ladies begged Tolstoy to -subdue the noise, he would set the children round the table, and tell -them to bring pens and ink. - -The following is an example of the sort of occupation he provided: - - 'Listen,' said he one day; 'I am going to give you a lesson.' - - 'What on?' demanded bright-eyed Lisa. - - Disregarding his niece's question, he continued: - - 'Write...' - - 'But what are we to write, uncle?' persisted Lisa. - - 'Listen; I will give you a theme...!' - - 'What will you give us?' - - 'A theme!' firmly replied Tolstoy. 'In what respect does Russia - differ from other countries? Write it here, in my presence, and - don't copy from one another! Do you hear?' added he, impressively. - -In half an hour the 'compositions' were ready. Plaksin had to read his -own, as his lines were so irregular that no one else could decipher -them. In his opinion Russia differed from other countries in that, at -carnival time, Russians eat pancakes and slide down ice-hills, and at -Easter they colour eggs. - -'Bravo!' said Tolstoy, and proceeded to make out Kolya's MS., in which -Russia was distinguished by its snow, and Lisa's, in which 'troikas' -(three-horse conveyances) played the chief part. - -In reward for these evening exercises, Tolstoy brought water-colour -paints from Marseilles and taught the children drawing. - -He often spent nearly the whole day with the children, teaching them, -taking part in their games, and intervening in their disputes, which he -analysed, proving to them who was in the right and who in the wrong. - -There was at this time some mutual attraction between Tolstoy and a -young Russian lady, Miss Yakovlef, who was staying at Hyeres; but, like -many other similar affairs, it came to nothing. - -On leaving Hyeres, Tolstoy, his sister, and her children, went to -Geneva, and from thence he proceeded alone to Nice, Leghorn, Florence, -Rome, and Naples. In Italy he says he experienced his first lively -impression of antiquity; but very little record remains of this -journey, and it is nowhere reflected in his writings. - -He returned to Paris _via_ Marseilles, the schools and other -institutions of which he observed closely, trying to discover how man's -intelligence is really best developed. - -He was very unfavourably impressed by the popular schools of -Marseilles. The studies, he says, consisted in learning by heart the -Catechism, sacred and general History, the four rules of Arithmetic, -French spelling and Book-keeping--the latter without sufficient -comprehension of the use of arithmetic to enable the children to deal -sensibly with the simplest practical problems requiring addition and -subtraction, though they could do long multiplication sums quickly and -well when only abstract figures were given. Similarly, they answered -well by rote questions in French History, but, when asked at hazard, -they would give such answers as that Henry IV was killed by Julius -Caesar. - -He observed the instruction given by the Churches, and visited the -adult schools of the town, as well as its _Salles d'Asile_, in which, -he says: - - I saw four-year-old children perform like soldiers, evolutions - round benches to orders given by whistle, and raise and cross their - arms to the word of command, and with strange trembling voices - sing hymns of praise to God and their benefactors; and I became - convinced that the educational establishments of Marseilles were - extremely bad. - - Any one seeing them would naturally conclude that the French people - must be ignorant, coarse, hypocritical, full of superstition and - almost savage. - - Yet one need only come in contact with and chat with any of the - common people, to convince oneself that on the contrary the French - people are almost what they consider themselves to be: intelligent, - clever, sociable, freethinking, and really civilised. Take a - workman of, say, thirty years of age: he will write a letter - without such mistakes as at school, sometimes even quite correctly; - he has some idea of politics, and therefore of recent history and - geography; he knows some history from novels, knows something of - natural history, and he very often draws, and is able to apply - mathematical formulae to his trade. Where did he get all this? - - I recently discovered the answer in Marseilles, by wandering about - the streets, drink-shops, _cafes chantants_, museums, workshops, - wharves and book-stalls. The very boy who told me that Henry IV was - killed by Julius Caesar, knew the history of _The Three Musketeers_ - and of _Monte Cristo_ very well. - -In Marseilles Tolstoy found that everybody had read Dumas' works, of -which there were twenty-eight cheap editions. He estimated that each -week, in the _cafes chantants_, at least one-fifth of the population -received oral education, as the Greeks and Romans used to do. Comedies -and sketches were performed, verses declaimed, and the influence for -good or evil of this unconscious education far outweighed that of the -compulsory education given in schools. - - -1861 - -In January he reached Paris, where he spent a large part of his time -in omnibuses, amusing himself by observing the people. He declares -he never met a passenger who was not represented in one or other -of Paul de Kock's stories. Of that writer, as of Dumas _pere_, he -thinks highly. 'Don't talk nonsense to me,' he once said, 'about -Paul de Kock's immorality. He is, according to English ideas, -somewhat improper. He is more or less what the French call _leste_ -and _gaulois_, but never immoral. In everything he says, and despite -his rather free jests, his tendency is quite moral. He is a French -Dickens.... As to Dumas, every novelist should know him by heart. His -plots are admirable, not to mention the workmanship. I can read and -re-read him, though he aims chiefly at plots and intrigue.' - -In Paris he again met Tourgenef; and from France he went on to London, -where he remained six weeks, not enjoying his visit much as he suffered -severely from toothache nearly all the time. It is characteristic -of Tolstoy that though he has often been a victim to toothache and -has also been much tried by digestive troubles, he never appears to -have had his teeth properly attended to by a dentist. A dentist's -establishment seems to him so unnatural and artificial that it must -be wrong. Moreover, dentists do not always do their work well; and -toothache--if one endures it long enough--cures itself, and in the past -the majority of mankind have got along without dentists. So he has been -inclined to put up with toothache as one of the ills it is best to bear -patiently. - -During his stay he, and Tourgenef who had also come to London, saw -a great deal of Alexander Herzen, who was editing _Kolokol_ (_The -Bell_)--the most influential paper ever published by a Russian exile. - -I have already remarked on the fact that the Reform movements of that -time left Tolstoy curiously cold; and here again it may be noted that -though Tourgenef contributed to Herzen's prohibited paper, Tolstoy -never wrote anything for it. - -Herzen's little daughter, who had read and greatly enjoyed _Childhood_, -_Boyhood_, and _Youth_, hearing that the author was coming to see her -father, obtained permission to be present when he called. She ensconced -herself in an arm-chair in a corner of the study at the appointed time, -and when Count Tolstoy was announced, awaited his appearance with -beating heart; but she was profoundly disillusioned by the entrance -of a man of society manners, fashionably dressed in the latest style -of English tailoring, who began at once to tell with gusto of the -cock-fights and boxing-matches he had already managed to witness in -London. Not a single word with which she could sympathise did she -hear from Tolstoy throughout that one and only occasion on which she -was privileged to listen to his conversation; and in this she was -particularly unlucky, for Tolstoy saw Herzen very frequently during his -stay in London, and the two discussed all sorts of important questions -together. - -One of Herzen's closest friends and co-workers during his long -exile from Russia, was the poet N. P. Ogaryof, who had been his -fellow-student at the Moscow University. Ogaryof, besides being a man -of ability, possessed a very amiable character that greatly endeared -him to his friends; but in an essay entitled _The First Step_[43] -written in 1892, we get a glimpse of what alienated Tolstoy's sympathy -from the progressive movement these men represented. He there says: - - [43] In the volume _Essays and Letters_, included in the - _World's Classics_. - - I have just been reading the letters of one of our highly educated - and advanced men of the forties, the exile Ogaryof, to another - yet more highly educated and gifted man, Herzen. In these letters - Ogaryof gives expression to his sincere thoughts and highest - aspirations, and one cannot fail to see that--as was natural to - a young man--he rather shows off before his friend. He talks - of self-perfecting, of sacred friendship, love, the service of - science, of humanity, and the like. And at the same time he calmly - writes that he often irritates the companion of his life by, as he - expresses it, 'returning home in an unsober state, or disappearing - for many hours with a fallen, but dear creature.'... - - Evidently it never even occurred to this remarkably kind-hearted, - talented, and well-educated man that there was anything at all - objectionable in the fact that he, a married man, awaiting the - confinement of his wife (in his next letter he writes that his - wife has given birth to a child) returned home intoxicated, and - disappeared with dissolute women. It did not enter his head that - until he had commenced the struggle, and had at least to some - extent conquered his inclination to drunkenness and fornication, he - could not think of friendship and love, and still less of serving - any one or any thing. But he not only did not struggle against - these vices--he evidently thought there was something very nice in - them, and that they did not in the least hinder the struggle for - perfection; and therefore instead of hiding them from the friend in - whose eyes he wishes to appear in a good light, he exhibits them. - - Thus it was half a century ago. I was contemporary with such men. - I knew Ogaryof and Herzen themselves and others of that stamp, and - men educated in the same traditions. There was a remarkable absence - of consistency in the lives of all these men. Together with a - sincere and ardent wish for good, there was an utter looseness of - personal desire, which, they thought, could not hinder the living - of a good life, nor the performance of good and even great deeds. - They put unkneaded loaves into a cold oven, and believed that bread - would be baked. And then, when with advancing years they began to - remark that the bread did not bake--_i.e._ that no good came of - their lives--they saw in this something peculiarly tragic. - -This was written twenty years later; but it was latent in his mind at -the time, and furnishes a clue to the fact that he never really made -friends with these men. - -Of Herzen as a writer Tolstoy ultimately came to have a very high -opinion, and admitted that he exerted a very considerable influence on -the mind of educated Russia. - -In England, as elsewhere, Tolstoy saw as much as he could of the -educational methods in vogue. He also visited the House of Commons and -heard Palmerston speak for three hours; but he told me he could form no -opinion of the oration, for 'at that time I knew English with my eyes -but not with my ears.' - -While in London, he received news that he had been nominated Arbiter of -the Peace for his own district, near Toula. The duties of the office -were to settle disputes between the serfs and their former proprietors. -Except a short service on the Zemstvo in 1874, this was the only -official position in which Tolstoy ever took much active part after -leaving the army. - -On 3rd March (new style), the day of Alexander II's famous Manifesto -emancipating the serfs, Tolstoy left London for Russia _via_ Brussels. -In that city he made the acquaintance of Proudhon (the author of -_Qu'est-ce que la Propriete?_ and a _Systeme des Contradictions -Economiques_) to whom Herzen had given him a letter of introduction. -Proudhon impressed Tolstoy as a strong man who had the courage of -his opinions; and though Proudhon's theories had no immediate effect -on Tolstoy's life, the social political and economic views expounded -by the latter a quarter of a century later, are deeply dyed with -Proudhonism. Both writers consider that property is robbery; interest -immoral; peaceful anarchy the desirable culmination of social progress, -and that every man should be a law unto himself, restrained solely by -reason, conscience and moral suasion. Another writer whose acquaintance -Tolstoy made in Brussels was the Polish patriot Lelewel, who had -taken a prominent part in the rebellion of 1830, and had written on -Polish history and on many other subjects. He was at this time a -decrepit old man living in great poverty. While in Brussels Tolstoy -wrote _Polikoushka_, almost the only story of his (besides _A Squire's -Morning_) that implies a condemnation of serfdom. - -Passing through Germany, Tolstoy stopped at Weimar, where he stayed -with the Russian Ambassador, Von Maltitz, and was introduced to the -Grand Duke Carl Alexander. Tolstoy (who had been reading Goethe's -_Reineke Fuchs_ not long before) visited the house in which Goethe had -lived, but was more interested in a Kindergarten conducted by Minna -Schelholm, who had been trained by Froebel. From another school he -visited, we hear of his collecting and carrying off the essays the -pupils had written, explaining to the master that he was much concerned -with the problem, 'How to make thought flow more freely.' - -At Jena he made acquaintance with a young mathematician named Keller, -whom he persuaded to accompany him to Yasnaya to help him in his -educational activities. He also stopped at Dresden, where he again -visited Auerbach, concerning whom he jots down in his Diary: - - _21 April, Dresden_: Auerbach is a most charming man. Has given me - a light.... He spoke of Christianity as the spirit of humanity, - than which there is nothing higher. He reads verse enchantingly. - Of Music as _Pflichtloser Genuss_ (dutyless pleasure).... He is 49 - years old. Straightforward, youthful, believing, not troubled by - negation. - -On another occasion Tolstoy expressed surprise at never having seen -Auerbach's _Village Tales of the Black Forest_ in any German peasant's -house, and declared that Russian peasants would have wept over such -stories. - -From Dresden he wrote to his Aunt Tatiana: - - [44] Je me porte bien et brule d'envie de retourner en Russie. - Mais une fois en Europe et ne sachant quand j'y retournerai, - vous comprenez que j'ai voulu profiter, autant que possible, de - mon voyage. Et je crois l'avoir fait. Je rapporte une si grande - quantite d'impressions, de connaissances, que je devrai travailler - longtemps, avant de pouvoir mettre tout cela en ordre dans ma tete. - - I am bringing with me a German from the University, to be a teacher - and clerk, a very nice, well-educated man, but still very young and - unpractical. - - [44] I am in good health and burn with desire to return to - Russia. But once in Europe and not knowing when I shall - return, you understand that I wanted to benefit as much as - possible by my travels. And I think I have done so. I am - bringing back such a great quantity of impressions and facts, - that I must work a long time before I can get it all in order - in my head. - - I am bringing with me a German from the University, to be a - teacher and clerk, a very nice, well-educated man, but still - very young and unpractical. - -He adds that he intends to return to Yasnaya _via_ St. Petersburg, as -he wants to obtain permission to publish an educational magazine he is -projecting. - -On 22nd April he was already in Berlin, where he made the acquaintance -of the head of the Teachers' Seminary, the son of the celebrated -pedagogue Diesterweg, whom, to his disappointment, he found to be 'a -cold, soulless pedant, who thinks he can develop and guide the souls of -children by rules and regulations.' - -On 23rd April (old style) he re-entered Russia, after a stay abroad of -nearly ten months. - -He brought with him complete editions of the works of several of the -greatest European writers. They were kept at the Custom House to be -submitted to the Censor, and, as Tolstoy plaintively remarked nearly -half a century later, 'he is still reading them!' - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VI - -Birukof. - -Bitovt. - -Fet, _Moi Vospominaniya_: Moscow, 1890. - -Tolstoy's _Confession_. - -Golovatcheva-Panaeva, _Rousskie Pisateli i Artisty_. - -Tourgenef, _Letters_. - -S. Plaksin, _Graf L. Tolstoy sredi detey_. - -Tolstoy's works, vol. iv.: Moscow, 1903. - -R. Loewenfeld, _Leo N. Tolstoj_. - -R. Loewenfeld, _Gespraeche ueber und mit Tolstoy_. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - AT YASNAYA AGAIN; TOURGENEF; ARBITER; MAGAZINE - -Quarrel with Tourgenef. Attitude towards Reforms. Arbiter of the Peace. -Educational Magazine. - - -AFTER the winter's snow has so far thawed that sleighing is -impracticable, there comes a time during which there is still too much -snow left, and the roads have become too soft to allow of travelling -on wheels, and when transit is practically impossible. Tolstoy reached -Moscow at this transition period, but had not to wait long before -the roads were dry enough for carriage traffic. He made the journey -southward to Toula in company with Mrs. Fet, wife of his friend the -poet. Mrs. Fet was travelling in her own carriage, accompanied by her -maid, to the estate Fet had purchased at some distance from Yasnaya. -Tolstoy had his own conveyance, but for company's sake changed places -with the maid and travelled with Mrs. Fet. In the cool of the evening -he borrowed and wrapped himself in a cloak of Fet's, declaring that -this would be sure to result in his producing a lyric poem. - - -1861 - -Soon after reaching Yasnaya he wrote (in the third week of May) to -congratulate Fet on having become a landed proprietor: - - How long it is since we met, and how much has happened to both - of us meanwhile! I do not know how to rejoice sufficiently when - I hear or think of your activity as a farmer, and I am rather - proud to have had at least some hand in the matter.... It is good - to have a friend; but he may die or go away, or one may not be - able to keep pace with him; but Nature, to which one is wedded by - a Notarial Deed, or to which one has been born by inheritance, is - still better. It is one's own bit of Nature. She is cold, obdurate, - disdainful and exacting, but then she is a friend one does not - lose till death, and even then one will be absorbed into her. I - am however at present less devoted to this friend: I have other - affairs that attract me; yet but for the consciousness that she is - there, and that if I stumble she is at hand to hold on to--life - would be but a sad business. - -A few days later, having received an invitation from Tourgenef, Tolstoy -paid him a visit the first hours of which passed off to their mutual -satisfaction. Tourgenef had just finished his favourite novel, _Fathers -and Sons_, and it was arranged that after dinner Tolstoy was to read it -and give his opinion on it. To do this the more comfortably, Tolstoy, -left in the drawing-room by himself, lay down on a large sofa. He began -to read; but the story seemed to him so artificially constructed and so -unimportant in its subject-matter, that he fell fast asleep. - -'I awoke,' he narrates, 'with a strange sensation, and when I opened my -eyes I saw Tourgenef's back just disappearing.' - -In spite of this occurrence and the unpleasant feeling it occasioned, -the two novelists set out next morning to visit Fet, who was not -expecting them that day. - -While the visitors rested for a couple of hours, recovering from the -fatigue of their journey, Mrs. Fet saw to it that the dinner assumed 'a -more substantial and inviting appearance.' During the meal the whole -party began an animated conversation, and Tourgenef, always fond of -good eating, fully appreciated the efforts Fet's excellent man-cook had -made. Champagne flowed, as was usual at such reunions. After dinner the -three friends strolled to a wood a couple of hundred yards from the -house, and lying down in the high grass at its outskirts, continued -their talk with yet more freedom and animation. - -Next morning at the usual breakfast time, about eight o'clock, the -visitors entered the room where Mrs. Fet presided at the samovar. -Fet sat at the opposite end of the table, Tourgenef at the hostess's -right hand, and Tolstoy at her left. Knowing the importance Tourgenef -attached to the education of his natural daughter, who was being -brought up in France, Mrs. Fet inquired whether he was satisfied -with her English governess. Tourgenef praised the latter highly, and -mentioned that, with English exactitude, she had requested him to fix -the sum his daughter might give away in charity. 'And now,' added -Tourgenef, 'she requires my daughter to take in hand and mend the -tattered clothes of the poor.' - -To Tolstoy, the foreign education Tourgenef was giving his daughter, -who was quite forgetting her own language, was very distasteful; and -his feeling no doubt showed itself in his question: - -'And you consider that good?' - -'Certainly: it places the doer of charity in touch with everyday needs.' - -'And I consider that a well-dressed girl with dirty, ill-smelling rags -on her lap, is acting an insincere, theatrical farce.' - -'I beg you not to say that!' exclaimed Tourgenef, with dilated nostrils. - -'Why should I not say what I am convinced is true?' replied Tolstoy. - -'Then you consider that I educate my daughter badly?' - -Tolstoy replied that his thought corresponded to his speech. - -Before Fet could interpose, Tourgenef, white with rage, exclaimed: 'If -you speak in that way I will punch your head!' and, jumping up from -the table and seizing his head in his hands, he rushed into the next -room. A second later he returned and, addressing Mrs. Fet, said: 'For -heaven's sake excuse my improper conduct, which I deeply regret!' and -again left the room. - -Fet, realising the impossibility of keeping his visitors together after -what had happened, was perplexed what to do, for they had both arrived -in Tourgenef's vehicle, and, newly established in the country, Fet, -though he had horses, had none accustomed to be driven in the only -conveyance he possessed. To get Tourgenef off was easy; but it was -not without some difficulty and even danger from the restive horses, -that Tolstoy was conveyed to the nearest post-station at which a hired -conveyance could be procured. - -From Novoselok, the first country house Tolstoy reached, he wrote -Tourgenef a letter demanding an apology; and asked for an answer to be -sent to the next post-house at Bogouslaf. Tourgenef, not noticing this -request, sent his reply to Fet's house, in consequence of which it was -several hours late in reaching Tolstoy--who was so enraged at this (as -it seemed to him) fresh act of discourtesy, that from Bogouslaf he sent -a messenger to procure pistols, and wrote a second letter containing a -challenge to Tourgenef, and stating that he did not wish to fight in a -merely formal manner, like literary men who finish up with champagne, -but that he was in earnest, and hoped Tourgenef would meet him with -pistols at the outskirt of the Bogouslaf woods. - -That night was a sleepless one for Tolstoy. The morning brought -Tourgenef's reply to his first letter. It commenced in the usual formal -manner of polite communications: - - GRACIOUS SIR, LEO NIKOLAYEVITCH!--In reply to your letter, I can - only repeat, what I myself considered it my duty to announce to you - at Fet's: namely, that carried away by a feeling of involuntary - enmity, the causes of which need not here be considered, I insulted - you without any definite provocation; and I asked your pardon. What - happened this morning proved clearly that attempts at intimacy - between such opposite natures as yours and mine can lead to no good - result; and I the more readily fulfil my duty to you, because the - present letter probably terminates our relations with one another. - I heartily hope it may satisfy you, and I consent in advance to - your making what use you please of it. - - With perfect respect, I have the honour to remain, Gracious Sir, - your most humble servant, - - IV. TOURGENEF. - - SPASSKY, _27 May 1861_. - - _P.S._ 10.30 P.M.: - - Ivan Petrovitch has just brought back my letter, which my servant - stupidly sent to Novoselok instead of to Bogouslaf. I humbly beg - you to excuse this accidental and regrettable mistake, and I hope - my messenger will still find you at Bogouslaf. - -Tolstoy thereupon wrote to Fet: - - I could not resist opening another letter from Mr. Tourgenef in - reply to mine. I wish you well of your relations with that man, - but I despise him. I have written to him, and therewith have - terminated all relations, except that I hold myself ready to give - him any satisfaction he may desire. Notwithstanding all my apparent - tranquillity, I was disturbed in spirit and felt I must demand a - more explicit apology from Mr. Tourgenef; I did this in my letter - from Novoselok. Here is his answer, which I accept as satisfactory, - merely informing him that my reason for excusing him is not our - opposite natures, but one he may himself surmise. - - In consequence of the delay which occurred, I sent besides this, - another letter, harsh enough and containing a challenge, to which - I have not received any reply; but should I receive one I shall - return it unopened. So there is an end of that sad story, which, if - it goes beyond your house, should do so with this addendum. - -Tourgenef's reply to the challenge came to hand later, and ran as -follows: - - Your servant says you desire a reply to your letter; but I do not - see what I can add to what I have already written; unless it be - that I admit your right to demand satisfaction, weapons in hand. - You have preferred to accept my spoken and repeated apology. That - was as you pleased. I will say without phrases, that I would - willingly stand your fire in order to efface my truly insane words. - That I should have uttered them is so unlike the habits of my whole - life, that I can only attribute my action to irritability evoked by - the extreme and constant antagonism of our views. This is not an - apology--I mean to say, not a justification--but an explanation. - And therefore, at parting from you for ever--for such occurrences - are indelible and irrevocable--I consider it my duty to repeat once - again that in this affair you were in the right and I in the wrong. - I add that what is here in question is not the courage I wish, or - do not wish, to show, but an acknowledgment of your right to call - me out to fight, in the accepted manner of course (with seconds), - as well as your right to pardon me. You have chosen as you pleased, - and I have only to submit to your decision. I renew my assurance of - my entire respect, - - IV. TOURGENEF. - -The quarrel was not, however, destined to die out so quickly. Even -good-natured Fet got into trouble by trying to reconcile the irascible -novelists. Here is one of the notes he received from Tolstoy: - - I request you not to write to me again, as I shall return your - letters, as well as Tourgenef's, unopened. - -Fet remarks: 'So all my attempts to put the matter right ended in a -formal rupture of my relations with Tolstoy, and I cannot now even -remember how friendly intercourse between us was renewed.' - -Before four months had passed, Tolstoy repented him of his quarrel. -Like Prince Nehludof in _Resurrection_, he used from time to time to -repent of all his sins and all his quarrels, and undertook a sort -of spring- or autumn-cleaning of his soul. It was at such a moment -that, on 25th September, he wrote to Tourgenef expressing regret that -their relations to one another were hostile, and he added: 'If I have -insulted you, forgive me; I find it unendurably hard to think I have -an enemy.' Not knowing Tourgenef's address in France, he sent this -letter to a bookseller in Petersburg (with whom he knew Tourgenef -corresponded) to be forwarded. The letter took more than three months -to reach its destination, nor was this the only thing that went wrong, -as is shown by the following portion of a letter, dated 8th November, -from Tourgenef to Fet: - - Apropos, 'one more last remark' about the unfortunate affair - with Tolstoy. Passing through Petersburg I learned from certain - 'reliable people' (Oh, those reliable people!) that copies of - Tolstoy's last letter to me (the letter in which he 'despises' me) - are circulating in Moscow, and are said to have been distributed - by Tolstoy himself. That enraged me, and I sent him a challenge - to fight when I return to Russia. Tolstoy has answered that the - circulation of the copies is pure invention, and he encloses - another letter in which, recapitulating that, and how, I insulted - him, he asks my forgiveness and declines my challenge. Of course - the matter must end there, and I will only ask you to tell him (for - he writes that he will consider any fresh communication from me to - him as an insult) that I myself repudiate any duel, etc., and hope - the whole matter is buried for ever. His letter (apologising) I - have destroyed. Another letter, which he says he sent me through - the bookseller Davidof, I never received. And now as to the whole - matter--_de profundis_. - -Tolstoy noted in his Diary one day in October: - - Yesterday I received a letter from Tourgenef in which he accuses me - of saying he is a coward and of circulating copies of my letter. I - have written him that it is nonsense, and I have also sent him a - letter: 'You call my action dishonourable and you formerly wished - to punch my head; but I consider myself guilty, ask pardon, and - refuse the challenge.' - - -1862 - -Even then the matter was not at an end, for on 7th January [new style?] -Tourgenef writes to Fet: - - And now a plain question: Have you seen Tolstoy? I have only to-day - received the letter he sent me in September through Davidof's - bookshop (how accurate are our Russian merchants!). In this letter - he speaks of his intention to insult me, and apologises, etc. And - almost at that very time, in consequence of some gossip about - which I think I wrote you, I sent him a challenge. From all this - one must conclude that our constellations move through space in - definitely hostile conjunction, and that therefore we had better, - as he himself says, avoid meeting. But you may write or tell him - (if you see him) that I (without phrase or joke) _from afar_ love - him very much, respect him and watch his fate with sympathetic - interest; but that in proximity all takes a different turn. What's - to be done? We must live as though we inhabited different planets - or different centuries. - -Tolstoy evidently took umbrage at Tourgenef's message, and visited his -wrath on Fet's innocent head. To be profoundly humble and forgiving -at his own command, was always, it seems, easier for Tolstoy than to -let his opponent have an opinion of his own. Tolstoy likes things to -be quite clear-cut and definite, and it complicates matters to have to -reckon with any one else's views. At any rate Tourgenef writes: - - PARIS, _14 Jan. [o.s.?] 1862_. - - DEAREST AFANASY AFANASYEVITCH! [Fet's Christian name and - patronymic].--First of all I must ask your pardon for the quite - unexpected tile (_tuile_, as the French say) that tumbled on - your head as a result of my letter. The one thing which somewhat - consoles me is that I could not possibly have expected such a freak - on Tolstoy's part, and thought I was arranging all for the best. It - seems it is a wound of a kind better not touched at all. - -To judge the relations between these two great writers fairly, one must -remember that Tourgenef was ten years the elder and, until _War and -Peace_ appeared, ranked higher in popular esteem; yet Tolstoy showed -him no deference, but on the contrary often attacked him and his views -with mordant irony. Tourgenef was neither ill-natured nor quarrelsome. -If Tolstoy had treated him with consideration or had been willing to -let him alone, there would have been no question either of insult or -of challenge. But the younger man sought the elder's company, and -then made himself disagreeable; and this, not of malice prepense, -but because it is his nature to demand perfection from great men, and -vehemently to attack those who fail to reach the standard he sets up. -This conduct was no doubt all the more trying for Tourgenef, because -Tolstoy neither co-operated with the Liberal movement then current, nor -lived more abstemiously with regard to food, wine, women, and cards -than others of his set whom he scolded; or if he did so, he did it so -spasmodically and with such serious lapses, as to be little entitled -to condemn others with the fervour he frequently displayed. On the -occasion of the great quarrel Tourgenef was certainly the aggressor, -and his prompt apology was not addressed to Tolstoy, whom he had -chiefly offended, but to Mrs. Fet. It is, however, plain that he acted, -as he said, on the irritable impulse of the moment. Tolstoy aggravated -matters by sending a challenge before receiving a reply to his first -letter, and also by suggesting that he despised Tourgenef and pardoned -him for reasons 'he may himself surmise.' Again, in relation to Fet, -who merely wished to pour oil on the troubled waters, Tolstoy showed a -strange irritability. No one however can read the _Recollections_ Fet -wrote thirty years later, without seeing that that poet--who not only -witnessed this affair, but had been the confidant of both writers for -years--respected Tolstoy far more than he respected Tourgenef. - -In this whole story, one may detect traces of the qualities which have -made Tolstoy so interesting and so perplexing a personality. He cares -intensely about everything with which he is occupied. Tourgenef, and -Tourgenef's opinions and conduct, were of tremendous importance to him. -So were his own views of how young ladies should be brought up. So was -the question whether he ought to challenge his enemy; and, later on, -the question whether he ought to forgive him, and whether Fet should -be allowed to act as mediator. It is this fact--that he cares about -things a hundred times more than other people care about them--that -makes Tolstoy a genius and a great writer. What was admirable in his -conduct was not that he acted well (as a matter of fact he acted very -badly) but that he _wished_ to act well. - -The same spirit which made him so intolerant with Tourgenef: his -strong feeling that 'To whom much is given, of him much shall be -required'--had something to do, later in life, with his fierce -attacks on Governments, on Shakespear, on Wagner, and on other great -institutions and men. At the same time, the incident throws light on -that side of Tolstoy's character which has brought it about that, -despite the very real charm he possesses, and despite the fact that -many men and women have been immensely attracted by his writings, -he has had very few intimate friends, and has constantly been -misunderstood. - -V. P. Botkin, who was in touch both with Tolstoy and Tourgenef, wrote -to Fet after hearing of the quarrel: - - The scene between him [Tourgenef] and Tolstoy at your house, - produced on me a sad impression. But do you know, I believe that in - reality Tolstoy has a passionately loving soul; only he wants to - love Tourgenef ardently, and unfortunately his impulsive feeling - encounters merely mild, good-natured indifference. That is what he - cannot reconcile himself to. And then (again unfortunately) his - mind is in a chaos, _i.e._ I wish to say it has not yet reached - any definite outlook on life and the world's affairs. That is - why his conviction changes so often, and why he is so apt to - run to extremes. His soul burns with unquenchable thirst; I say - 'unquenchable,' because what satisfied it yesterday, is to-day - broken up by his analysis. But that analysis has no durable and - firm reagents, and consequently its results evaporate _ins blaue - hinein_. Without some firm ground under one's feet it is impossible - to write. And that is why at present he _cannot_ write, and this - will continue to be the case till his soul finds something on which - it can rest. - -To any one acquainted with the history of Russia at that period, but -not acquainted with Tolstoy's idiosyncrasies, it must indeed seem -strange that the story of his life can be told with so little reference -to the Emancipation or the Reform movements of the years 1860-1864, to -which allusion has already been made. Two passages written by him in -1904 state his relation to those movements with the sincerity which is -so prominent and valuable a feature of his character: - - As to my attitude at that time to the excited condition of our - whole society, I must say (and this is a good and bad trait always - characteristic of me) that I always involuntarily opposed any - external, epidemic pressure; and that if I was excited and happy - at that time, this proceeded from my own personal, inner motives: - those which drew me to my school work and into touch with the - peasants. - - I recognise in myself now the same feeling of resistance to the - excitement at present prevailing; which resembles that which, in a - more timid form, was then current. - -When the Emancipation came, the peasants received freedom, and an -allotment of land, subject to a special land-tax for sixty years; while -their masters retained the rest of the land and received State Bonds -for the capitalised value of the peasants' land-tax. An expedient -resorted to by many a proprietor was, to allot land to the peasants -in such a way that the latter were left without any pasture, and -(being surrounded by the owner's estate) found themselves obliged -to hire pasture land of him on his own terms. There were, till the -Emancipation, two ways of holding serfs: (1) the primitive way of -obliging them to work so many days a week for their master, before they -could, on the other days, provide for their own wants; and (2) another -way, which left the serf free to work for himself, provided that he -paid _obrok_, _i.e._ a certain yearly tribute to his owner. These -explanations will render intelligible the second passage referred to -above and quoted below: - - Some three or four years before the Emancipation, I let my serfs go - on _obrok_. When complying with the Emancipation Decree I arranged, - as the law required, to leave the peasants in possession of the - land they were cultivating on their own behalf, which amounted - to rather less than eight acres per head, and (to my shame be it - said) I added nothing thereto. The only thing I did--or the one - evil I refrained from doing--was that I abstained from obliging the - peasants to exchange land (as I was advised to do) and left them in - possession of the pasture they needed. In general, however, I did - not show any disinterested feeling in the affair. - -In the first edition of _Tolstoy and his Problems_ I erroneously stated -that Tolstoy, before the Decree of Emancipation, voluntarily freed -his serfs; and though this was corrected in the second edition, it is -necessary to repeat the correction here, as the same mistake occurs in -the article on Tolstoy in the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_. I therefore -quote the following passage from a letter he wrote me on the subject: - - I have received your book and read it with pleasure. The short - biography is excellent, except the place where you, quoting the - words of Sophia Andreyevna, say that 'he liberated his peasants - before the Emancipation.' That is wrong: I placed them on _obrok_ - instead of keeping them on _barstchina_ [_i.e._ the state in which - the peasants rendered labour dues]. It would not have been possible - to emancipate them.... - - -1861 - -Tolstoy's curious tendency to underrate the influence of the Liberal -reformers of that time, may be illustrated by an incident that occurred -at a dinner in Toula. The local elections had taken place, and a public -banquet was given in honour of those Arbiters of the Peace who were -visiting the town. Tolstoy was at this dinner, and when the toast -to the health of Alexander II, the 'Tsar-Liberator,' was proposed, -Tolstoy remarked to his neighbour: 'I drink this toast with particular -pleasure. No others are needed, for in reality we owe the Emancipation -to the Emperor alone.' - -A yet more curious instance of the same tendency occurs in an article -on _Progress, and the Definition of Education_, which he published a -year later, and in which, arguing that printing has been of little use -to the people, he says that: - - Even taking as an example the abolition of serfdom, I do not see - that printing helped the solution of the problem in a progressive - sense. Had the Government not said its decisive word in that - affair, the press would, beyond a doubt, have explained matters - in quite a different way to what it did. We saw that most of the - periodicals would have demanded the emancipation of the peasants - without any land, and would have produced arguments apparently just - as reasonable, witty and sarcastic [as they actually produced in - favour of the more Liberal solution ultimately adopted].... - -If, however, Tolstoy did not stand in the ranks of the Reformers, -he was much less of a partisan of his own class than many of his -fellow-nobles desired; and we find the Marshal of the Nobility of Toula -writing to Valouef, Minister of Home Affairs, complaining of Tolstoy's -appointment as Arbiter of the Peace on the ground that he was disliked -by the neighbouring landowners. In consequence of this complaint -Valouef made inquiries, and received a 'confidential' reply from the -Governor of the Province, stating that: - - Knowing Count Tolstoy personally, as an educated man warmly - sympathising with the matter in hand, and in view of a wish - expressed to me by some of the proprietors of the district that he - should be appointed Arbiter, I cannot replace him by some one I do - not know. - -Tolstoy tried his best to act fairly between peasants and landowners; -but from the start his unsuitability for duties involving methodical -care was obvious. - -The very first 'charter,' regulating the relations between a landlord -and his newly-liberated peasants, that he sent up to the Government -Board for Peasant Affairs, was signed as follows: 'At the request of -such-and-such peasants, because of their illiteracy, the house-serf -so-and-so has signed this charter for them.' Not a single name did the -charter contain! As Tolstoy had dictated the words, so his servant had -written them down, and the charter had been sealed and sent off without -being read over. - -He could at times be wonderfully patient in dealing with the peasants, -though they were exasperatingly pertinacious in demanding more than -it was possible to grant. An eye-witness tells how Tolstoy visited -a neighbouring estate on which differences had arisen between the -peasants and their former master, as to the land which should be -allotted to them. Tolstoy received a deputation, consisting of three of -the leading peasants of the village, and asked them: - -'Well, lads, what do you want?' - -They explained what land they wished to have, and Tolstoy replied, 'I -am very sorry I can't do what you wish. Were I to do so I should cause -your landlord a great loss'; and he proceeded to explain to them how -the matter stood. - -'But you'll manage it for us somehow, _batushka_' [literally, -'little-father'], said the peasants. - -'No, I can't do anything of the kind,' repeated Tolstoy. - -The peasants glanced at one another, scratched their heads, and -reiterated their 'But somehow, _batushka_!' and one of them added, 'If -only you want to, _batushka_, you'll know how to find a way to do it!' -at which the other peasants nodded their heads approvingly. - -Tolstoy crossed himself, as orthodox Russians are wont to do, and -said: 'As God is holy, I swear that I can be of no use at all to -you.' But still the peasants repeated: 'You'll take pity on us, and -do it somehow, _batushka_!' Tolstoy at last turned vehemently to the -steward, who was present, and said: 'One can sooner, like Amphion, move -the hills and woods, than convince peasants of anything!' - -The whole conversation, says the steward, lasted more than an hour, -and up to the last minute the Count retained his patient and friendly -manner towards the peasants. Their obstinacy did not provoke him to -utter a single harsh word. - -With the landowners Tolstoy had even more trouble than with the -peasants. He received many threatening letters, plans were formed -to have him beaten, he was to have been challenged to a duel; and -denunciations against him were sent to those in authority. - -After some three months of the work, in July 1861, he jotted down in -his Diary: 'Arbitration has given me but little material [for literary -work], has brought me into conflict with all the landed-proprietors, -and has upset my health.' - -Here is a sample of the cases he had to deal with. A Mrs. Artukof -complained that a certain Mark Grigoref (who had been a house-serf, and -was therefore not entitled to land) had left her, considering himself -to be 'perfectly free.' - -Tolstoy, in his reply to the lady, said: - - Mark, by my order, is at liberty to go immediately, with his - wife, where he likes; and I beg you (1) to compensate him for the - three-and-a-half months he has been illegally kept at work by you - since the Decree was published, and (2) for the blows still more - illegally inflicted on his wife. If my decision displeases you, - you have a right of appeal to the Magistrates' Sessions and to the - Government Sessions. I shall not enter into further explanations - on this subject.--With entire respect I have the honour to remain, - your humble servant, - - C^{t.} L. TOLSTOY. - -The lady appealed to the Magistrates' Sessions, and Tolstoy's decision -was annulled; but on the case being carried to the Government Sessions, -his view of the case prevailed. - -Before he had been a year in office we find him writing to the -Government of the Toula Board of Peasant Affairs as follows: - - As the complaints [here follows a list of several cases] lodged - against my decisions have no legal justification, but yet in these - and many other cases my decisions have been and are being repealed, - so that almost every decision I give is subsequently reversed; and - as under such conditions--destructive both of the peasants' and - the landowners' confidence in the Arbiter--the latter's activity - becomes not merely useless but impossible, I humbly request the - Government Board to authorise one of its members to hasten the - examination of the above-mentioned appeals, and I have to inform - the Government Board that until such investigations are completed - I do not consider it proper that I should exercise the duties of - my office, which I have, therefore, handed over to the senior - Candidate. - -The following month he resumed official work, but six weeks later, -on 30th April 1862, on the score of ill-health, he handed the duties -over to a substitute; and on 26th May--about a year after he had first -assumed the office--the Senate informed the Governor of Toula that -it 'had decided to discharge the Lieutenant of Artillery, Count Leo -Tolstoy, on the ground of ill-health' from the post of Arbiter of the -Peace. - -His unsatisfactory experience of administrative work no doubt helps to -account for the anti-Governmental bias shown in his later works. Even -at this time, he quite shared the dislike of civil and criminal law -expressed by Rousseau when he wrote in his _Confession_: - - The justice and the inutility of my appeals left in my mind a germ - of indignation against our stupid civil institutions, in which the - true welfare of the public, and veritable justice, are always - sacrificed to I know not what apparent order, really destructive of - all order, and which merely adds the sanction of public authority - to the oppression of the weak and the iniquity of the strong. - -We may at any rate be sure that tiresome, petty administrative work, -never quite satisfactory, but at best consisting of compromises and of -decisions based on necessity rather than on such principles of abstract -justice as are dear to Tolstoy's soul, could never be an occupation -satisfactory to him. He has not the plodding patience and studious -moderation that such work demands; nor could his impulsive genius find -scope in it. It has never been easy for him to be checked by others, -or to have to reckon with their opinions and wishes. Like Rousseau, it -suits him better to reform the world on paper, or even to alter his own -personal habits of life, than to concern himself with the slow social -progress, the bit-by-bit amelioration, which alone is possible to those -harnessed to the car that carries a whole society of men. - -Tolstoy used at this time to find recreation in hunting, and often -went out for days together with his friend and relation Prince D. D. -Obolensky, who describes him as having been a bold and active hunter, -leaping all sorts of obstacles, and a wonderful man to talk to. - -Concurrently with his duties as Arbiter, Tolstoy had been carrying on -an enterprise in which he had to deal with people younger and more easy -to mould than the peasants and proprietors whose quarrels he found -it so hard to adjust; and during the winter of 1861-1862 he devoted -himself with especial fervour to the task of educating the peasant -children of Yasnaya and the surrounding district. - -As we have already seen, a chief aim of his travels abroad had been -to study the theory and practice of education; and not only did -he now personally devote himself to the school at Yasnaya, but in -the surrounding neighbourhood eleven similar schools were soon -started, all more or less inspired by his ideals and encouraged by -his co-operation. The monthly magazine, _Yasnaya Polyana_ (now a -bibliographical rarity) which he produced and edited during 1862, aimed -at propagating his theories of education and making known the results -attained in his school, and it also contained an account of sums -voluntarily contributed for its support. From articles published in it -(and republished in his collected writings) we get a vivid description -of the work carried on in November and December 1861.[45] Like many -Russian magazines, _Yasnaya Polyana_ always appeared late, and, to -begin with, the January number was several weeks behind time. - - [45] In one edition after another of Tolstoy's works, the - article referred to above is called 'Yasno-Polyana School in - Nov. and Dec. 1862,' though the article itself appeared in the - first number of _Yasnaya Polyana_, in February of that year. - In small matters of detail of this kind, Tolstoy has always - been careless. - -In this educational work, Tolstoy showed the qualities and limitations -which in later years marked all his propagandist activity. There was -the same characteristic selection of a task of great importance; the -same readiness to sweep aside and condemn nearly all that civilised -humanity had accomplished up to then; the same assurance that he could -untie the Gordian knot; and the same power of devoted genius enabling -him really to achieve much more than one would have supposed possible, -though not a tithe of what he set himself to do. - -In later life Tolstoy laid no particular emphasis on what he wrote -in these educational articles: in fact, we shall find him sometimes -speaking very scornfully of them; but they throw so much light on his -then state of mind, and often come so near to the views he strongly -advocated twenty or thirty years later, that it will be worth devoting -a good deal of attention to them. - -Tolstoy, then, defines Education as: _a human activity, aving for its -basis a desire for equality, and the constant tendency to advance in -knowledge_. This he illustrates by saying that the aim of a teacher -of arithmetic should be to enable his pupil to grasp all the laws of -mathematical reasoning he himself is master of; the aim of a teacher -of French, or chemistry, or philosophy, should be similar; and as soon -as that aim is attained, the activity will naturally cease. Everywhere -and always, teaching which makes the pupil the master's equal, has been -considered good. The more nearly and rapidly this is accomplished, the -better; the less nearly and more slowly it is accomplished, the worse. -Similarly in literature (an indirect method of teaching) those books -are written best, in which the author succeeds in transmitting his -whole message most easily to the reader. - -By 'the constant tendency to advance in knowledge,' Tolstoy meant -that the equality aimed at in education can only be obtained on the -higher, and not on the lower, level: that is to say, not by the teacher -forgetting what he knows, but by the pupil acquiring the teacher's -knowledge. Much tuition however is based not on the desire to equalise -knowledge, but on quite false foundations. - -These are: (1) First and commonest, the child learns in order not to be -punished; (2) the child learns in order to earn a reward; (3) the child -learns in order to be better than others; (4) the child, or young man, -learns in order to obtain an advantageous position in the world.... - -With reference to the practice of sending boys to school, not for their -natural development, but that they may be moulded into a set form, -Tolstoy declares that 'Education, as a deliberate moulding of people -into certain forms, is _sterile, illegitimate, and impossible_.' - -Of examinations he strongly disapproves, as tending to arbitrariness on -the side of the examiners, and deception on the side of the pupils. - -Under what circumstances, asks Tolstoy, can a pupil acquire knowledge -most rapidly? 'A child or a man is receptive only when he is aroused; -and therefore to regard a merry spirit in school as an enemy or a -hindrance, is the crudest of blunders. - -The pupil's state of mind is the most important condition of successful -education; and to secure good results, freedom is indispensable. No -child should be forced to learn what it does not want to, or when it -does not wish to. - - One need only glance at one and the same child at home or in the - street, and at school. Here you see a vivacious, inquisitive being, - with a smile in his eye and on his mouth, seeking information - everywhere as a pleasure, and clearly, and often forcibly, - expressing his thoughts in his own way; while there you see a - weary, shrinking creature repeating, merely with his lips, some one - else's thoughts in some one else's words, with an air of fatigue, - fear and listlessness: a creature whose soul has retreated like a - snail into its shell. One need but glance at these two conditions - to see which of them is the more conducive to the child's - development. That strange physiological condition which I call the - 'School state of mind,' and which unfortunately we all know so - well, consists in all the higher capacities: imagination, creative - power and reflection, yielding place to a semi-animal capacity to - pronounce words without imagination or reflection. - -When the pupils have been reduced to this 'School state of mind' we -encounter those 'not accidental, but often-repeated cases,' of the -stupidest boy being at the top of the class, and the cleverest boy at -the bottom. - -In short, a child's mental capacities are really active only when that -child is free; and the teacher's chief task lies 'in studying the free -child' and discovering how to supply him with knowledge. Therefore -'the only method of education is experiment, and its only criterion is -_freedom_.' - -The attempts to enforce obedience and quiet in school-rooms, converts -schools into places of torture which have a stupefying effect, well -called by the Germans _Verdummen_. - - In Germany nine-tenths of those who pass through the primary - schools leave them possessed of an ability to read and write - mechanically, but imbued with so strong a loathing for the - experience they have had of the paths of knowledge, that they - subsequently never take a book in their hands. Let those who - doubt what I say, point out to me what books are read by the - labourers.... No one who will seriously consider the education of - the people, not only in Russia but also in the rest of Europe, can - help coming to the conclusion that the people get their mental - development quite independently of a knowledge of reading and - writing, and that usually, except in a few cases of exceptional - ability, these rudiments remain a quite unapplied art--which is - even harmful, since nothing in life can remain indifferent.... - - * * * * * - - Schools are not so arranged as to make it convenient for children - to learn, but so as to make it convenient for teachers to teach. - The voices, movements and mirth of the children, which form a - necessary condition of their studying successfully, incommode the - teachers, and therefore in the prison-like schools of to-day, - questions, conversation, and movement are forbidden. - -Schools based on compulsion, supply 'not a shepherd for the flock, but -a flock for the shepherd.' - - - * * * * * - - To deal successfully with any object, it is necessary to study it, - and in education the object is a free child; yet the pedagogues - wish to teach in their own way--the way that seems good in their - own eyes; and when this does not act, they want not to alter their - way of teaching but the nature of the child. ...Not till experiment - becomes the basis of the School, and every school is, so to say, a - pedagogic laboratory, will schools cease to lag behind the general - level of the world's progress. - -For boarding-schools Tolstoy had scant respect: - - At home all the comforts of life--water, fires, good food, a - well-cooked dinner, the cleanliness and comfort of the rooms--all - depended on the work and care of the mother and of the whole - family. The more work and care, the greater the comfort; the less - work and care, the less comfort. A simple matter this no doubt, but - more educational I think, than the French language or a knowledge - of Alexander the Great. In a boarding-school, this constant vital - reward for labour is so put out of sight, that not only is the - dinner no better or worse, the napkins no cleaner or dirtier, and - the floors no brighter or duller, because of the girl's exertion - or non-exertion, but she has not even a cell or corner of her own - to keep straight or leave untidy at her pleasure, and she has no - chance of making a costume for herself out of scraps and ribbons. - -His general charge against day-schools, boarding-schools and -universities alike is that: - - At the base of them all lies one and the same principle: the right - of one man, or of a small group of men, to shape other people as - they like. - -He adds that: - - It is not enough for School to tear children away from real life - for six hours a day during the best years of their life: it wishes - to tear three-year-old children from their mother's influence. - Institutions have been contrived (_Kleinkinderbervahranstalten_, - infant schools, _salles d'asile_) about which we shall have - to speak more in detail later on. It only remains to invent a - steam-engine which will replace the nursing mother! All agree that - schools are imperfect; I, personally, am convinced that they are - noxious. - -He argues that no man or set of men has any right to force any -particular kind of education on any one else. The teacher has no right -to do more than offer such knowledge as he possesses, and he should -respect the child's right to reject it as indigestible, or as badly -served up: - - On what grounds does the School of to-day teach this and not that, - and in this and not that way? - - Where, in our day, can we get such faith in the indubitability - of our knowledge as would give us a right to educate people - compulsorily? Take any medieval school, before or after Luther, - take the whole scholastic literature of the Middle Ages, what a - strength of belief and what a firm, indubitable knowledge of what - was true and what was false, we see in them! It was easy for them - to know that a knowledge of Greek was the one essential condition - of education; for Aristotle's works were in Greek, and no one - doubted the truth of his propositions till centuries later. How - could the monks help demanding the study of the Holy Scriptures, - which stood on an immovable foundation? It was well for Luther - to demand the compulsory study of Hebrew, being sure, as he was, - that in that language God himself has revealed the truth to man. - Evidently, as long as man's critical sense was not aroused, the - school had to be dogmatic; and it was natural for pupils to learn - by heart the truths revealed by God, as well as Aristotle's science - and the poetic beauties of Virgil and Cicero. For centuries after, - no one could imagine any truer truth, or more beautiful beauty. - But what is the position of the schools of our time, which retain - these same dogmatic principles, while in the room next the class - where the immortality of the soul is taught, it is suggested to the - pupils that the nerves common to man and to the frog are what was - formerly called 'the soul'; and where after hearing the story of - Joshua the son of Nun read to him without explanations, the pupil - learns that the sun never did go round the earth; and when after - the beauties of Virgil have been explained to him, he finds the - beauties of Alexandre Dumas (whose novels he can buy for sixpence) - much greater; when the only belief held by the teacher is that - nothing is true, but that whatever exists is reasonable; and that - progress is good and backwardness bad, though nobody knows in what - this progress, that is so generally believed in, consists? - -In another article he says: - - Luther insists on teaching the Holy Scriptures from the originals, - and not from the commentaries of the Fathers of the Church. Bacon - enjoins the study of Nature from Nature, and not from the books - of Aristotle. Rousseau wants to teach life from life itself as - he understands it, and not from previous experiments. Each step - forward in the philosophy of pedagogics merely consists in freeing - the schools from the idea of teaching the younger generations what - the elder generations believed to be science, and in substituting - studies that accord with the needs of the younger generations. - -Again, he says - - It is very usual to read and hear it said that the home conditions, - the coarseness of parents, field labour, village games and so - forth, are the chief hindrances to school-work. Possibly they - really interfere with the kind of school-work aimed at by the - pedagogues; but it is time we understood that those conditions - are the chief bases of all education, and far from being inimical - to, or hindrances of the School, are its first and chief motive - power.... The wish to know anything whatever, and the very - questions to which it is the School's business to reply, arise - entirely from these home conditions. All instruction should - be simply a reply to questions put by life. But School, far - from evoking questions, fails even to answer those which life - suggests.... To such questions the child receives no reply; more - especially as the police regulations of the School do not allow him - to open his mouth, even when he wants to be let out for a minute, - but obliges him to make signs in order not to break the silence or - disturb the teacher. - -The great questions, Tolstoy says, are: (1) What must I teach? and (2) -How must I teach it? He remarks that a couple of centuries ago, neither -in Russia nor in Western Europe could these questions have arisen. -Education was then bound up with religion, and to become a scholar -meant to learn the Scriptures. In Mohammedan countries this union of -religion with education still exists in full force. To learn, means -to learn the Koran, and therefore to learn Arabic. But as soon as the -criterion of what to learn ceased to be religion, and the School became -independent of the Church, the question of what to teach was bound to -arise. That it did not arise suddenly, was due to the fact that the -emancipation of the School from the Church took place gradually. But -the day has at last come when the question must be faced; and no clear -guidance is given us either by philosophy or by any definite consensus -of opinion among those concerned with education. In the higher schools -some advocate a classical, others a scientific, education; while in the -primary schools, if the education is controlled by the priests it is -carried on in one way, and if it is controlled by the anti-clericals it -is carried on in another. Under these circumstances the only possible -criterion must be the wish of the pupils or of their parents. Tolstoy -then goes on to maintain that the demand of the mass of the Russian -people is for tuition in the Russian and Ecclesiastico-Slavonic -languages, and for mathematics. - -As to _how_ to teach, he contends that this resolves itself into the -question, How to establish the best possible relations between those -who want to learn and those who want to teach, and he says: - - No one, probably, will deny that the best relation between a - teacher and his pupils is a natural one, and that the opposite - to a natural one is a compulsory one. If that be so, then the - measure of all scholastic methods consists in the greater or lesser - naturalness, and consequently in the less or more compulsion - employed. The less the children are compelled, the better is the - method; the more they are compelled, the worse is the method. I am - glad that it is not necessary for me to prove this obvious truth. - All are agreed that it cannot be good for health to employ foods, - medicines, or exercises which create disgust or pain; and so also - in learning, there can be no need to compel children to grind at - anything dull or repugnant to them; and if it seems necessary to - use compulsion, that fact can merely prove the imperfection of - the methods employed. All who have taught children have probably - noticed that the worse the teacher knows the subject he is dealing - with and the less he likes it, the more he has to be stern and the - more compulsion he has to use; while on the contrary, the better - the teacher knows and loves his subject, the more free and natural - will be his tuition. - - If history be closely examined, it will be found that every advance - in pedagogics has consisted merely in a diminution of compulsion, - a facilitation of study, and a greater and greater approach to - naturalness in the relations between teacher and pupil. - - People have asked, How can we find the degree of freedom to be - allowed in school? To which I reply that the limit of that freedom - is naturally defined by the teacher, by his knowledge, and by his - capacity to manage the school. Such freedom cannot be dictated; its - measure is merely the result of the greater or lesser knowledge - and talent possessed by the master. Freedom is not a rule, but - it serves as a gauge when comparing one school with another, or - when judging of new methods. The school in which there is less - compulsion, is better than the one in which there is more. That - method is good which, when introduced into a school, does not - necessitate any increase of discipline; while that is certainly bad - which necessitates greater severity. - -From his main subject of Education, Tolstoy digresses in these articles -into a discussion of other problems, in a way which reminds one of -those wonderful essays he began to pour forth a quarter of a century -later. - -That he had been somewhat influenced by the Slavophils is indicated -by his readiness to assume that Russia may advance along a line -of her own, entirely different to that the Western nations have -travelled. 'Progress,' in which like almost all his contemporaries he -had believed, he now questions; and he indulges in a sharp attack on -Macaulay for the third chapter of his _History_, which he says contains -no proof that any real progress has been achieved. Buckle, similarly, -is roughly handled for the assumption of progress that underlies his -_History of Civilisation_; but most scathing of all is his onslaught -upon Hegel, who (till Darwin appeared) was the rock on which many of -the intellectual Liberals took their stand. - - From the time of Hegel and his famous aphorism: 'What is historic - is reasonable,' a very queer mental hocus-pocus has prevailed in - literary and in verbal disputes, especially among us, under the - name of 'the historic view.' You say, for instance, that man has - a right to freedom, or to be tried on the basis of laws of which - he himself approves; but the historic view replies that history - evolves a certain historic moment conditioning a certain historic - legislation and a people's historic relation thereto. You say - you believe in a God; and the historic view replies that history - evolves certain historic views and humanity's relation to those - views. You say the _Iliad_ is the greatest of epic works; and the - historic view replies that the _Iliad_ is merely the expression - of the historic consciousness of a people at a certain historic - moment. On this basis, the historic view does not dispute with you - as to whether man needs freedom, or whether there is or is not a - God, or whether the _Iliad_ is good or bad: it does nothing to - establish the freedom you desire; to persuade or dissuade you of - the existence of a God or of the beauty of the _Iliad_; it merely - points out to you the place your inner need or your love of truth - or beauty, occupy in history. It merely recognises--and recognises - not by direct cognition, but by historic ratiocination. - - Say that you love or believe anything, and the historic view tells - you: 'Love and believe, and your love and faith will find their - place in our historic view. Ages will pass and we shall find the - place you are to occupy in history. Know however in advance, that - what you love is not absolutely beautiful, and what you believe in - is not absolutely true; yet amuse yourselves, children: your love - and faith will find their place and application.' - - It is only necessary to add the word 'historic' to any conception - you like, and that conception loses its real vital meaning, in an - artificially-formed historic world-conception. - -Of the introduction of telegraphs and railways he remarks that people -attribute great importance to these inventions, and boast of the -progress that is being made, declaring that: - - 'Man is mastering the forces of Nature. Thought, with the rapidity - of lightning, flies from one end of the world to the other. Time is - vanquished.' - -This, says Tolstoy, is excellent and touching. - - But let us see who gains by it. We are speaking of the progress - of the electric telegraph. Evidently the advantage and use of the - telegraph is reserved for the upper, so-called 'educated' class; - while the people, nine-tenths of the whole, only hear the droning - of the wires and are hampered by the strict laws made for the - protection of the telegraph. - - Along the wires flies the thought that the demand for such-and-such - an article has increased, and that the price must therefore be - raised; or the thought that I, a Russian landed proprietress, - living in Florence, have, thank God, recovered from my nervous - prostration, and that I embrace my adored husband and beg him to - send me 40,000 francs as quickly as possible. - - Without going into exact statistics of the messages sent, one may - be quite sure that they all belong to the kind of correspondence - of which the above are samples. No peasant of Yasnaya Polyana in - the Government of Toula, or any other Russian peasant (and let it - not be forgotten that the peasants form the mass of the people - whose welfare 'progress' is supposed to secure) ever has sent or - received, or for a long time to come will either send or receive, - a single telegram. All the messages that fly above his head add - no jot to his welfare, because all he needs he gets from his own - fields and his own woods, and he is equally indifferent to the - cheapness or dearness of sugar or cotton, to the dethronement of - King Otho, the speeches of Palmerston and Napoleon III, or the - feelings of the lady in Florence. All those thoughts that fly with - the rapidity of lightning round the world, do not increase the - fertility of his fields nor diminish the strictness of the keepers - in the squire's or the Crown's forests, nor do they add to his or - his family's working power, or supply him with an extra labourer. - All these great thoughts may impair his welfare, but cannot secure - or further it, and can have but a negative interest for him. To - the True-Believers in progress, however, the telegraph wires - have brought and are bringing immense advantages. I do not deny - those advantages: I only wish to prove that one must not think, - or persuade others, that what is advantageous for me, is a great - blessing to all the world.... - - In the opinion of the Russian people what increases their welfare - is an increase of the fertility of the soil, an increase in the - herds of cattle, an increase of the quantity of grain and its - consequently becoming cheaper, an increase of working power, - an increase in woods and pastures, and the absence of town - temptations. (I beg the reader to observe that no peasant ever - complains of the cheapness of bread; it is only the political - economists of Western Europe who soothe him with the prospect that - bread will become dearer and render it more possible for him to - purchase manufactured articles, in which he is not interested.) - - Which of these benefits does the railway bring to the peasant? It - increases the temptations; it destroys the woods; it draws away - labourers; it raises the price of grain.... - - The real people, that is to say those who themselves work and live - productively--nine-tenths of the whole nation--without whom no - progress is conceivable, are always hostile to the railway. And so - what it comes to is this: that the believers in 'progress,' a small - part of society, say that railways increase the welfare of the - people; while the larger part of the nation say that the railways - decrease it. - -Interesting, stimulating and suggestive as Tolstoy's articles were, and -valuable as was the experience gained in his school, his magazine had -very few subscribers and only existed for one year: the twelfth number -was the last. - -In an article written thirteen years later, he says of his attempts in -1861-2: - - At that time I met with no sympathy in the educational journals, - nor even with any contradiction, but only with the completest - indifference to the question I was raising. There were, it is true, - some attacks on a few insignificant details, but the question - itself evidently interested no one. I was young at that time, and - this indifference galled me. I did not understand that I with my - question: How do you know what and how to teach? was like a man - who, in an assembly of Turkish Pachas discussing how to collect - more taxes from the people, should say to them: Gentlemen, before - discussing how much to take from each man, we must first consider - what right we have to collect taxes at all? Obviously, the Pachas - would continue to discuss the methods of collecting, and would - ignore the irrelevant question. - -Before passing on to tell of the actual working of the Yasnaya Polyana -school, there is one matter to be noted, small indeed in itself, but -characteristic, and helpful for the understanding of Tolstoy's later -development. - -Tolstoy's personal honour has never been questioned, and the reader -will remember that at Sevastopol he flatly refused to touch money -which, according to the long-standing regimental custom, was at his -disposal. Well, in his magazine he printed a story written by one of -the boys in the school, and appraised it with enthusiasm. The hero of -the story, who had been wretchedly poor, returns from the army with -money to spare, and explains the matter to his wife by saying: 'I -was a non-commissioned officer and had Crown money to pay out to the -soldiers, and some remaining over, I kept it.' - -Commenting on this, Tolstoy says: - - It is revealed that the soldier has become rich, and has done so - in the simplest and most natural manner, just as almost everybody - does who becomes rich--that is, by other people's, the Crown's, - or somebody's, money remaining in his hands owing to a fortunate - accident. Some readers have remarked that this incident is immoral, - and that the people's conception of the Crown as a milch cow should - be eradicated and not confirmed. But not to speak of its artistic - truth, I particularly value that trait in the story. Does not the - Crown money always stop somewhere? And why should it not, once in - a way, stop with a homeless soldier like Gordey? - - In the views of honesty held by the peasants and the upper class, - a complete contrast is often noticeable. The peasants' demands are - specially serious and strict with regard to honesty in the nearest - relations of life; for instance, in respect to one's family, one's - village, or one's commune. In respect to outsiders: the public, the - Crown, or foreigners, or the Treasury especially, the applicability - of the rules of honesty seems to them obscure. A peasant who would - never tell a lie to his brother peasant, and who would bear all - possible hardships for the sake of his family, and not take a - farthing from a fellow-villager or neighbour without having fully - earned it--will be ready to squeeze a foreigner or a townsman like - an orange, and at every second word will lie to a gentleman or an - official. If he is a soldier, he will without the slightest twinge - of conscience stab a French prisoner, and should Crown money come - his way, he would consider it a crime to his family not to take it. - In the upper class, on the contrary, it is quite the reverse.... - I do not say which is better, I only say what I believe to be the - case.... - - To return to the story. The mention of the Crown money, which at - first seems immoral, in our opinion has a most sweet and touching - character. How often a writer of our circle, when wishing to show - his hero as an ideal of honesty, naively displays to us the dirty - and depraved nature of his own imagination! Here, on the contrary, - the author has to make his hero happy. His return to his family - would suffice for that, but it was also necessary to remove the - poverty which for so many years had weighed on the family. Where - was he to take money from? From the impersonal Crown! If the author - is to give him wealth, it has to be taken from some one, and it - could not have been found in a more legitimate or reasonable way. - -No doubt Tolstoy's statement of peasant morality is true enough; but -Tolstoy's attitude towards the matter is remarkable. He has always had -a keen sense of personal morality, but when public morality was in -question, his decisions seem to me often to have been at fault. - -Passing from the moral to the economic aspect of the question, to -Western ears it sounds strange to hear the medieval or Oriental -conception so boldly announced, that property 'has to be taken from -some one' before it can be obtained. In our world, wealth has, during -the last five generations, been increased enormously by inventions, by -organisation, by division of labour, by the skilful utilisation of the -forces of Nature, as well as by co-operation and the bringing together -into one place of industries and individuals mutually helpful; and it -has become impossible for us to believe that the _only_ way to obtain -wealth is by depriving some one else of wealth they already possess. - - -AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VII - -Birukof. - -Fet. - -Tolstoy's letter to A. Maude. - -Tolstoy's Educational Articles. - -Loewenfeld's _Leo N. Tolstoj_. - -P. A. Sergeyenko in _Niva_, No. 7, 1906. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE SCHOOL - -Yasno-Polyana School. Freedom in class. Natural laws. A fight. Theft -and punishment. A walk and talk on art. Peasants' opinion of the -school. Gymnastics. Reading. The Bible. Penmanship. Grammar. History. -Geography. Drawing. Singing. Composition. A literary genius. Art: -exclusive or universal? Reading useless for lack of what to read. The -value of freedom in education. A contrast. - - -AS already mentioned, Tolstoy's magazine, besides its theoretical -articles, contained others describing the work done at the -Yasno-Polyana school, and from these we learn in his own words, how -Tolstoy and his pupils, and the masters (including the young German, -Keller, whom he had brought back with him from abroad) were occupied -in November and December 1861. The following passages are part of his -description of the school: - - No one brings anything with him, neither books nor copy-books. - No homework is set them. Not only do they carry nothing in their - hands, they have nothing to carry even in their heads. They are - not obliged to remember any lesson, nor any of yesterday's work. - They are not tormented by the thought of the impending lesson. They - bring only themselves, their receptive nature, and an assurance - that it will be as jolly in school to-day as it was yesterday. - They do not think of their classes till they have begun. No one - is ever scolded for being late, and they never are late, except - perhaps some of the older boys whose fathers occasionally keep them - at home to do some work. In such cases the boy comes to school - running fast and panting. Until the teacher arrives, some gather - at the porch, pushing one another off the steps or sliding on the - ice-covered path, and some go into the rooms. When it is cold, - while waiting for the master, they read, write, or play about. The - girls do not mix with the boys. When the boys take any notice of - the girls, they never address any one of them in particular, but - always speak to them collectively: 'Hey, girls, why don't you come - and slide?' or, 'Look how frozen the girls are,' or, 'Now girls, - all of you against me!' - - Suppose that by the time-table the lesson for the youngest class - is elementary reading; for the second, advanced reading; and for - the third, mathematics. The teacher enters the room, on the floor - of which the boys are lying in a heap, shouting, 'The heap is too - small!' or, 'Boys, you're choking me!' or, 'Don't pull my hair!' - etc. - - 'Peter Mihaylovitch!' cries a voice from the bottom of the heap, - to the teacher as he enters: 'Tell them to stop!'--'Good morning, - Peter Mihaylovitch!' cry others, continuing their scrimmage. The - teacher takes the books and gives them to those who have followed - him to the cupboard, while from the heap of boys on the floor, - those on top, still sprawling, demand books. The heap gradually - diminishes. As soon as most of the boys have taken books, the rest - run to the cupboard crying, 'Me too! Me too!'--'Give me yesterday's - book!'--'Give me Koltsof!' and so forth. If a couple of boys - excited by their struggle still remain on the floor, those who have - taken books and settled down, shout at them, 'What are you up to? - We can't hear anything! Stop it!' The excited ones submit, and, - panting, take to their books; and only just at first swing their - legs with unspent excitement as they sit reading. The spirit of - war flies away and the spirit of reading reigns in the room. With - the same ardour with which he pulled Mitka's hair, he now reads - Koltsof's works: with almost clenched teeth, with sparkling eyes, - and oblivious of all around him but his book. To tear him from his - reading now would need as much effort as formerly to tear him from - his wrestling. - - They sit where they like: on the benches, tables, window-sills, - floor, or in the arm-chair. The girls always sit together. Friends - from the same village, especially the little ones (among whom - there is most comradeship) always sit together. As soon as one of - them decides that he will sit in a certain corner, all his chums, - pushing and diving under the forms, get there too, and sit together - looking about them with faces that express as much happiness and - satisfaction as though, having settled in that place, they would - certainly be happy for the rest of their lives. The large arm-chair - (which somehow found its way into the room) is an object coveted - by the more independent personalities.... As soon as one of them - decides to sit in it, another discerns his intention from his - looks, and they collide and squeeze in. One dislodges the other, - and curling up, sprawls with his head far below the back, but reads - like the rest, quite absorbed in his work. During lessons I have - never seen them whispering, pinching, giggling, laughing behind - their hands, or complaining of one another to the teacher. - - The two lower classes sort themselves in one room, the upper - class in another. The teacher appears, and in the first class all - surround him at the blackboard, or lie on the forms, or sit on - the table, near him or near one of the boys who reads. If it is a - writing lesson, they place themselves in a more orderly way, but - keep getting up to look at one another's exercise books, and to - show their own to the teacher. According to the time-table there - should be four lessons before dinner; but sometimes in practice - these become three or two, and may be on quite other subjects. - The teacher may begin with arithmetic and pass on to geometry; or - may begin with Sacred History and end up with grammar. Sometimes - teacher and pupils are so carried away, that a lesson lasts three - hours instead of one. Sometimes the pupils themselves cry: 'Go on, - go on!' and shout contemptuously to any who are tired: 'If you're - tired, go to the little ones!' - - In my opinion this external disorder is useful and necessary, - however strange and inconvenient it may seem to the teacher. Of - its advantages I shall have frequent occasion to speak; but of its - apparent disadvantages I will say: - - First, this disorder, or free order, only frightens us because we - ourselves were educated in, and are accustomed to, something quite - different. Secondly, in this as in many similar cases, coercion is - used only from hastiness or from lack of respect for human nature. - We think the disorder is growing greater and greater, and that - it has no limit. We think there is no way of stopping it except - by force; but one need only wait a little, and the disorder (or - animation) calms down of itself, and calms down into a far better - and more durable order than any we could devise. - -In another place he says: - - Our school evolved freely from the principles brought into it by - the teachers and pupils. In spite of the predominant influence of - the teacher, the pupil always had the right not to go to school; - and even when in school, not to listen to the teacher. The teacher - had the right not to admit a pupil.... - - Submitting naturally only to laws derived from their own nature, - children revolt and rebel when subjected to your premature - interference. They do not believe in the validity of your bells and - time-tables and rules. How often have I seen children fighting. The - teacher rushes to separate them, and the separated enemies look - at one another askance, and even in the stern teacher's presence - cannot refrain from giving one another a parting blow, yet more - painful than its predecessors. How often, any day, do I see some - Kirushka, clenching his teeth, fly at Taraska, seize his hair, - and throw him to the ground, apparently--though it costs him his - life--determined to maim his foe; yet not a minute passes before - Taraska is already laughing under Kirushka. One, and then the - other, moderates his blows, and before five minutes have passed - they have made friends, and off they go to sit together. - - The other day, between lessons, two boys were struggling in a - corner. The one, a remarkable mathematician about ten years old, - is in the second class; the other, a close-cropped lad, the son - of a servant, is a clever but vindictive, tiny, black-eyed lad, - nicknamed Pussy. Pussy seized the mathematician's long hair and - jammed his head against the wall; the mathematician vainly clutched - at Pussy's close-cropped bristles. Pussy's black eyes gleamed - triumphantly. The mathematician, hardly refraining from tears, kept - saying: 'Well, well, what of it?' But though he tried to keep - up appearances, it was plain he was faring badly. This went on - for some time, and I was in doubt what to do. 'A fight, a fight!' - shouted the boys, and crowded towards the corner. The little ones - laughed; but the bigger ones, though they did not interfere, - exchanged serious glances, and their silence and these glances did - not escape Pussy's observation. He understood that he was doing - something wrong, and began to smile shamefacedly, and by degrees - let go of the mathematician's hair. The mathematician shook himself - free, and giving Pussy a push that banged the back of the latter's - head against the wall, went off satisfied. Pussy began to cry, and - rushed after his enemy, hitting him as hard as he could on his - sheepskin coat, but without hurting him. The mathematician wished - to pay him back, but at that moment several disapproving voices - were raised. 'There now; he's fighting a little fellow!' cried the - onlookers, 'get away, Pussy!'--and therewith the affair ended as - though it had never occurred, except, I think, that both combatants - retained a dim consciousness that fighting is unpleasant, because - both get hurt. - - In this case I seemed to detect a feeling of fairness influencing - the crowd; but how often such affairs are settled so that one - does not know what law has decided them, and yet both sides are - satisfied! How arbitrary and unjust by comparison are all School - methods of dealing with such cases. 'You are both to blame: kneel - down!' says the teacher; and the teacher is wrong, because one boy - is in the wrong, and that one triumphs while on his knees, and - chews the cud of his unexpended anger, while the innocent one is - doubly punished.... - - I am convinced that the School should not interfere with that part - of education which belongs to the family. The School should not, - and has no right to, reward or punish; and the best police and - administration of a School consist in giving full freedom to the - pupils to learn and get on among themselves as they like. I am - convinced of this; and yet the customary School habits are still so - strong in us that in the Yasno-Polyana school we frequently break - this rule.... - - During last summer, while the school-house was being repaired, - a Leyden jar disappeared from the physical cabinet; pencils - disappeared repeatedly, as well as books--and this at a time when - neither the carpenters nor the painters were at work. We questioned - the boys. The best pupils, those who had been with us longest, - old friends of ours, blushed and were so uneasy that any Public - Prosecutor would have thought their confusion a sure proof of their - guilt. But I knew them, and could answer for them as for myself. - I understood that the very idea of being suspected offended them - deeply and painfully. A gifted and tender-hearted boy, whom I will - call Theodore, turned quite pale, trembled and wept. They promised - to tell me, if they found out; but they declined to undertake a - search. A few days later the thief was discovered. He was the son - of a servant from a distant village. He had led astray, and made an - accomplice of, a peasant boy from the same village; and together - they had hidden the stolen articles in a box. This discovery - produced a strange feeling in the other pupils: a kind of relief - and even joy, accompanied by contempt and pity for the thief. We - proposed that they should allot the punishment themselves. Some - demanded that the thief should be flogged, but stipulated that they - should do the flogging; others said: 'Sew a card on him, with the - word _thief_.' This latter punishment, to our shame be it said, - had been used by us before, and it was the very boy who a year - ago had himself been labelled _liar_, who now most insistently - demanded a card for the thief. We consented, and when one of the - girls was sewing the card on, all the pupils watched and teased - the punished boys with malicious joy. They wanted the punishment - increased: 'Let them be led through the village; and let them wear - cards till the holidays,' said they. The victims cried. The peasant - boy who had been led astray by his comrade, a gifted narrator and - jester, a plump, white, chubby little chap, wept without restraint - and with all his childish might. The other, the chief offender, a - hump-nosed boy with a thin-featured, clever face, became pale, his - lips quivered, his eyes looked wildly and angrily at his joyous - comrades, and occasionally his face was unnaturally distorted by a - sob. His cap, with a torn peak, was stuck on the very back of his - head; his hair was ruffled, his clothes soiled with chalk. All this - now struck me and everybody else as though we saw it for the first - time. The unkindly attention of all was directed to him, and he - felt it painfully. When, with bent head and without looking round, - he started homeward with (as it seemed to me) a peculiar, criminal - gait, and when the boys ran after him in a crowd, teasing him in an - unnatural and strangely cruel way as though, against their will, - they were moved by some evil spirit, something told me that we were - not doing right. But things took their course, and the thief wore - the card that whole day. From this time he began, as it seemed to - me, to learn worse, and one did not see him playing and talking - with his fellows out of class. - - One day I came to a lesson, and the pupils informed me, with - a kind of horror, that the boy had again stolen. He had taken - twenty copecks (seven pence) in coppers from the teacher's room, - and had been caught hiding them under the stairs. We again hung - a card on him; and again the same revolting scene recommenced. I - began to admonish him, as all masters admonish; and a big boy, - fond of talking, who was present, also admonished him--probably - repeating words he had heard his father, an innkeeper, use: 'You - steal once, and you do it again,' said he distinctly, glibly, and - with dignity; 'it becomes a habit, and leads to no good.' I began - to get vexed. I glanced at the face of the punished boy, which - had become yet paler, more suffering and harder than before; and - somehow I thought of convicts, and suddenly I felt so ashamed and - disgusted that I tore the stupid card off him, told him to go where - he liked, and became convinced--and convinced not by reason, but by - my whole nature--that I had no right to torment that unfortunate - boy, and that it was not in my power to make of him what I and the - innkeeper's son wanted to make of him. I became convinced that - there are secrets of the soul, hidden from us, on which life may - act, but which precepts and punishments do not reach. - -It may be said that any department of life could be treated in this -way: we have merely to invert an established order founded on the -experience of men, and a topsy-turvy millennium is born. It may also be -said that in the foregoing pages Tolstoy appears as the evangelist of -an educational system founded on the free play of youthful instincts -which, speaking merely the language of natural animal life, call for -sympathetic discipline. But in his _Confession_ Tolstoy has treated -his educational writings with such scant respect that criticism is -disarmed; more especially as the actual working of his school was -extremely interesting and much more successful than might have been -expected. - -N. V. Ouspensky, the writer, narrates that he visited Yasnaya Polyana -in 1862, and Tolstoy, having to leave him alone for awhile, asked him -to glance at some of the compositions the boys had written in school. -Taking up one of these, Ouspensky read: - - One day, Lyof Nikolayevitch (Tolstoy) called Savoskin up to the - blackboard and ordered him to solve a problem in arithmetic. 'If I - give you five rolls, and you eat one of them, how many rolls will - you have left?'... Savoskin could nohow solve this problem, and the - Count pulled his hair for it.... - -When Tolstoy returned Ouspensky pointed out to him this essay, and -Tolstoy, sighing heavily, crossed his hands before him and merely said: -'Life in this world is a hard task.' - -Ouspensky considered that he had unearthed an extraordinary -contradiction between theory and practice; but no one who realises the -difficulty and novelty of Tolstoy's attempt, and how far he is from -claiming perfection for himself or for his achievements, should agree -with Ouspensky. On the contrary, the essay proves a freedom of relation -between teacher and pupil, which would certainly not have existed had -the hair-pulling been other than impulsive and exceptional. - -The school was closed, or nearly so, during the summer, as most of the -pupils then helped their parents with field work; obtaining, Tolstoy -considers, more mental development that way than they could have done -in any school. To make up for this, the hours of study in winter were -long. - - The classes generally finish about eight or nine o'clock (unless - carpentering keeps the elder boys somewhat later), and the whole - band run shouting into the yard, and there, calling to one another, - begin to separate, making for different parts of the village. - Occasionally they arrange to coast down-hill to the village in a - large sledge that stands outside the gate. They tie up the shafts, - throw themselves into it, and squealing, disappear from sight in a - cloud of snow, leaving here and there on their path black patches - of children who have tumbled out. In the open air, out of school - (for all its freedom) new relations are formed between pupil and - teacher: freer, simpler and more trustful--those very relations - which seem to us the ideal which School should aim at. - - Not long ago we read Gogol's story _Viy_ [an Earth-Spirit] in the - highest class. The final scenes affected them strongly, and excited - their imagination. Some of them played the witch, and kept alluding - to the last chapters.... - - Out of doors it was a moonless, winter night, with clouds in the - sky, not cold. We stopped at the crossroads. The elder boys, in - their third year, stopped near me, asking me to accompany them - further. The younger ones looked at us, and rushed off down-hill. - They had begun to learn with a new master, and between them and - me there is not the same confidence as between the older boys and - myself. - - 'Well, let us go to the wood' (a small wood about 120 yards from - the house), said one of them. The most insistent was Fedka, a boy - of ten, with a tender, receptive, poetic yet daring nature. Danger - seems to form the chief condition of pleasure for him. In summer it - always frightened me to see how he, with two other boys, would swim - out into the very middle of the pond, which is nearly 120 yards - wide, and would now and then disappear in the hot reflection of the - summer sun, and swim under water; and how he would then turn on - his back, causing fountains of water to rise, and calling with his - high-pitched voice to his comrades on the bank to see what a fine - fellow he was. - - He now knew there were wolves in the wood, and so he wanted to go - there. All agreed; and the four of us went to the wood. Another - boy, a lad of twelve, physically and morally strong, whom I will - call Syomka, went on in front and kept calling and 'ah-ou-ing' with - his ringing voice, to some one at a distance. Pronka, a sickly, - mild and very gifted lad, from a poor family (sickly probably - chiefly from lack of food), walked by my side. Fedka walked between - me and Syomka, talking all the time in a particularly gentle voice: - now relating how he had herded horses in summer, now saying there - was nothing to be afraid of, and now asking, 'Suppose one should - jump out?' and insisting on my giving some reply. We did not go - into the wood: that would have been too dreadful; but even where - we were, near the wood, it was darker, and the road was scarcely - visible, and the lights of the village were hidden from view. - Syomka stopped and listened: 'Stop, lads! What is that?' said he - suddenly. - - We were silent, and though we heard nothing, things seemed to grow - more gruesome. - - 'What shall we do if it leaps out ... and comes at us?' asked Fedka. - - We began to talk about Caucasian robbers. They remembered a - Caucasian tale I had told them long ago, and I again told them of - 'braves,' of Cossacks, and of Hadji Mourat.[46] Syomka went on in - front, treading boldly in his big boots, his broad back swaying - regularly. Pronka tried to walk by my side, but Fedka pushed him - off the path, and Pronka--who, probably on account of his poverty, - always submitted--only ran up alongside at the most interesting - passages, sinking in the snow up to his knees. - - [46] The daring Caucasian leader mentioned by Tolstoy in a - letter quoted in Chapter III. - - Every one who knows anything of Russian peasant children knows - that they are not accustomed to, and cannot bear, any caresses, - affectionate words, kisses, hand touchings, and so forth. I have - seen a lady in a peasant school, wishing to pet a boy, say: 'Come, - I will give you a kiss, dear!' and actually kiss him; and the boy - was ashamed and offended, and could not understand why he had been - so treated. Boys of five are already above such caresses--they are - no longer babies. I was therefore particularly struck when Fedka, - walking beside me, at the most terrible part of the story suddenly - touched me lightly with his sleeve, and then clasped two of my - fingers in his hand, and kept hold of them. As soon as I stopped - speaking, Fedka demanded that I should go on, and did this in such - a beseeching and agitated voice that it was impossible not to - comply with his wish. - - 'Now then, don't get in the way!' said he once angrily to Pronka, - who had run in front of us. He was so carried away as even to be - cruel; so agitated yet happy was he, holding on to my fingers, that - he could let no one dare to interrupt his pleasure. - - 'Some more! Some more! It is fine!' said he. - - We had passed the wood and were approaching the village from the - other end. - - 'Let's go on,' said all the boys when the lights became visible. - 'Let us take another turn!' - - We went on in silence, sinking here and there in the rotten snow, - not hardened by much traffic. A white darkness seemed to sway - before our eyes; the clouds hung low, as though something had - heaped them upon us. There was no end to that whiteness, amid which - we alone crunched along the snow. The wind sounded through the bare - tops of the aspens, but where we were, behind the woods, it was - calm. - - I finished my story by telling how a 'brave,' surrounded by his - enemies, sang his death-song and threw himself on his dagger. All - were silent. - - 'Why did he sing a song when he was surrounded?' asked Syomka. - - 'Weren't you told?--He was preparing for death!' replied Fedka, - aggrieved. - - 'I think he sang a prayer,' added Pronka. - - All agreed. Fedka suddenly stopped. - - 'How was it, you told us, your Aunt had her throat cut?' asked he. - (He had not yet had enough horrors.) 'Tell us! Tell us!' - - I again told them that terrible story of the murder of the Countess - Tolstoy,[47] and they stood silently about me, watching my face. - - [47] Some details of this crime are given in 'Why do Men - Stupefy Themselves?' in _Essays and letters_, published in the - _World's Classics_. - - 'The fellow got caught!' said Syomka. - - 'He was afraid to go away in the night, while she was lying with - her throat cut!' said Fedka; 'I should have run away!' and he - gathered my two fingers yet more closely in his hand. - - We stopped in the thicket, beyond the threshing-floor at the very - end of the village. Syomka picked up a dry stick from the snow and - began striking it against the frosty trunk of a lime tree. Hoar - frost fell from the branches on to one's cap, and the noise of the - blows resounded in the stillness of the wood. - - 'Lyof Nikolayevitch,' said Fedka to me (I thought he was going - again to speak about the Countess), 'why does one learn singing? I - often think, why, really, does one?' - - What made him jump from the terror of the murder to this question, - heaven only knows; yet by the tone of his voice, the seriousness - with which he demanded an answer, and the attentive silence of - the other two, one felt that there was some vital and legitimate - connection between this question and our preceding talk. Whether - the connection lay in some response to my suggestion that crime - might be explained by lack of education (I had spoken of that) or - whether he was testing himself--transferring himself into the mind - of the murderer and remembering his own favourite occupation (he - has a wonderful voice and immense musical talent) or whether the - connection lay in the fact that he felt that now was the time for - sincere conversation, and all the problems demanding solution rose - in his mind--at any rate his question surprised none of us. - - 'And what is drawing for? And why write well?' said I, not knowing - at all how to explain to him what art is for. - - 'What is drawing for?' repeated he thoughtfully. He really was - asking, What is Art for? And I neither dared nor could explain. - - 'What is drawing for?' said Syomka. 'Why, you draw anything, and - can then make it from the drawing.' - - 'No, that is designing,' said Fedka. 'But why draw figures?' - - Syomka's matter-of-fact mind was not perplexed. - - 'What is a stick for, and what is a lime tree for?' said he, still - striking the tree. - - 'Yes, what is a lime tree for?' said I. - - 'To make rafters of,' replied Syomka. - - 'But what is it for in summer, when not yet cut down?' - - 'Then, it's no use.' - - 'No, really,' insisted Fedka; 'why does a lime tree grow?' - - And we began to speak of the fact that not everything exists for - use, but that there is also beauty, and that Art is beauty; and we - understood one another, and Fedka quite understood why the lime - tree grows and what singing is for. - - Pronka agreed with us, but he thought rather of moral beauty: - goodness. - - Syomka understood with his big brain, but did not acknowledge - beauty apart from usefulness. He was in doubt (as often happens to - men with great reasoning power): feeling Art to be a force, but not - feeling in his soul the need of that force. He, like them, wished - to get at Art by his reason, and tried to kindle that fire in - himself. - - 'We'll sing _Who hath_ to-morrow. I remember my part,' said he. (He - has a correct ear, but no taste or refinement in singing.) Fedka, - however, fully understood that the lime tree is good when in leaf: - good to look at in summer; and that that is enough. - - Pronka understood that it is a pity to cut it down, because it, - too, has life: - - 'Why, when we take the sap of a lime, it's like taking blood.' - - Syomka, though he did not say so, evidently thought that there was - little use in a lime when it was sappy. - - It feels strange to repeat what we then said, but it seems to me - that we said all that can be said about utility, and plastic and - moral beauty. - - We went on to the village. Fedka still clung to my hand; now, it - seemed to me, from gratitude. We all were nearer one another that - night than we had been for a long time. Pronka walked beside us - along the broad village street. - - 'See, there is still a light in Mazanof's house,' said he. 'As I - was going to school this morning, Gavruka was coming from the pub, - as dru-u-nk as could be! His horse all in a lather and he beating - it! I am always sorry for such things. Really, why should it be - beaten?' - - 'And the other day, coming from Toula, my daddy gave his horse the - reins,' said Syomka; 'and it took him into a snow-drift and there - he slept--quite drunk.' - - 'And Gavruka kept on beating his horse over the eyes, and I felt so - sorry,' repeated Pronka again. 'Why should he beat it? He got down - and just flogged it.' - - Syomka suddenly stopped. - - 'Our folk are already asleep,' said he, looking in at the window of - his crooked, dirty hut. 'Won't you walk a little longer?' - - 'No.' - - 'Go-o-od-bye, Lyof Nikolayevitch!' shouted he suddenly, and tearing - himself away from us, as it were with an effort, he ran to the - house, lifted the latch and disappeared. - - 'So you will take each of us home? First one and then the other?' - said Fedka. - - We went on. There was a light in Pronka's hut, and we looked in at - the window. His mother, a tall and handsome but toil-worn woman, - with black eyebrows and eyes, sat at the table, peeling potatoes. - In the middle of the hut hung a cradle. Pronka's brother, the - mathematician from our second class, was standing at the table, - eating potatoes with salt. It was a black, tiny, and dirty hut. - - 'What a plague you are!' shouted the mother at Pronka. 'Where have - you been?' - - Pronka glanced at the window with a meek, sickly smile. His mother - guessed that he had not come alone, and her face immediately - assumed a feigned expression that was not nice. - - Only Fedka was left. - - 'The travelling tailors are at our house, that is why there's a - light there,' said he in the softened voice that had come to him - that evening. 'Good-bye, Lyof Nikolayevitch!' added he, softly - and tenderly, and he began to knock with the ring attached to the - closed door. 'Let me in!' his high-pitched voice rang out amid the - winter stillness of the village. It was long before they opened the - door for him. I looked in at the window. The hut was a large one. - The father was playing cards with a tailor, and some copper coins - lay on the table. The wife, Fedka's stepmother, was sitting near - the torch-stand, looking eagerly at the money. The young tailor, - a cunning drunkard, was holding his cards on the table, bending - them, and looking triumphantly at his opponent. Fedka's father, - the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, his brow wrinkled with mental - exertion and vexation, changed one card for another, and waved his - horny hand in perplexity above them. - - 'Let me in!' - - The woman rose and went to the door. - - 'Good-bye!' repeated Fedka, once again. 'Let us always have such - walks!' - -Thus Tolstoy for the second time found himself faced by the question: -What is Art? which had arisen when he spoke to the Society of Lovers -of Russian Literature. This time it was put to him by a ten-year-old -peasant boy, and it seemed to him that: 'We said all that can be said -about utility, and plastic and moral beauty.' Twenty years later, -after achieving the highest fame as a literary artist, he returned -to the subject and tried to write an essay on the connection between -life and Art, thinking that he would be able to accomplish it at a -single effort. It proved, however, as he tells us, 'that my views on -the matter were so far from clear, that I could not arrange them in a -way that satisfied me. From that time I did not cease to think of the -subject, and I recommenced writing on it six or seven times; but each -time, after writing a considerable part of it, I found myself unable to -bring the work to a satisfactory conclusion, and had to put it aside.' -Only after another fifteen years' study and reflection did he succeed, -in 1898, in producing _What is Art?_ which raised such a storm in the -esthetic dovecots, and induced the editor of _Literature_ to declare -that 'There was never any reason for inferring that Count Tolstoy's -opinions on the philosophy of art would be worth the paper on which -they were written'; while A. B. Walkley was asserting that 'this calmly -and cogently reasoned effort to put art on a new basis is a literary -event of the first importance.' - -We have, however, as yet only reached the year 1862, and must not -anticipate. - -At first the peasants were rather afraid of the school, but before -long they gained confidence and the report became current among them -that: 'At Yasno-Polyana school they learn everything, including all -the sciences, and there are such clever masters that it is dreadful; -it is said that they even imitate thunder and lightning. Anyway, the -lads understand well, and have begun to read and write.' Another -very general opinion was that: 'They teach the boys everything (like -gentlemen's sons) much of it is no use, but still, as they quickly -learn to read, it is worth sending the children there.' - -Naturally Tolstoy, himself in those days an ardent gymnast, had -parallel and horizontal bars put up, and gave the children physical -training. To the effects of this on the stomach, the village mothers -did not fail to attribute any digestive troubles that befell their -children from time to time; especially when the long Lenten fast was -succeeded by a return to more appetising food, or when, after such -luxuries had long been lacking, fresh vegetables again came into use in -summer. - -In his account of the Yasno-Polyana school, Tolstoy tells us there were -about forty pupils enrolled, but more than thirty were rarely present -at a time; among them were four or five girls, and sometimes three or -four male adults who came either for a month or for a whole winter. -Most of the boys were from seven to ten years old. (Tolstoy says that -children learn to read most rapidly, easily and well, between the ages -of six and eight.) - -There were four teachers, and generally from five to seven lessons a -day. The teachers kept diaries of their work, and discussed matters -together on Sundays, when they drew up plans for the coming week. These -plans were, however, not strictly adhered to, but were constantly -modified to meet the demands of the pupils. - -Tolstoy's sister told me of another Sunday occupation at Yasnaya -Polyana in those days. Tolstoy used to invite all the boys from the -neighbouring schools within reach, and used to play games with them; -the favourite game being _Barre_, which I assume to be a form of 'Storm -the Castle.' - -Tolstoy came to the conclusion that teachers involuntarily strive to -find a method of teaching convenient for themselves, and that the more -convenient a method is for the teacher, the less convenient it is for -the pupil; and only _that_ method is good which satisfies the pupils. - -His theory of freedom as the basis of success in instruction, was put -to a rude test by the fact that for a considerable time his pupils made -little or no headway in learning to read. He says: - - The simple thought that the time had not yet come for good reading - and that there was at present no need of it, but that the pupils - would themselves find the best method when the need arose, only - recently entered my head. - -After telling how the boys first met the difficulty of mastering the -mechanical process of reading, Tolstoy goes on to tell how in the upper -class progress was suddenly made owing to what seemed an accident. - - In the class of advanced reading some one book is used, each boy - reading in turn, and then all telling its contents together. They - had been joined that autumn by an extremely talented lad, T., who - had studied for two years with a sacristan, and was therefore ahead - of them all in reading. He reads as we do, and so the pupils only - understand anything of the advanced reading (and then not very much - of it) when he reads; and yet each of them wishes to read. But as - soon as a bad reader begins, the others express dissatisfaction, - especially when the story is interesting. They laugh, and get - cross, and the bad reader feels ashamed, and endless disputes - arise. Last month one of the boys announced that at any cost he - would manage, within a week, to read as well as T.; others made the - same announcement, and suddenly mechanical reading became their - favourite occupation. For an hour or an hour-and-a-half at a time, - they would sit without tearing themselves away from the books, - which they did not understand; and they began taking books home - with them; and really, within three weeks, they made such progress - as could not have been expected. - - In their case the reverse had happened of what usually occurs with - those who learn the rudiments. Generally a man learns to read, and - finds nothing he cares to read or understand. In this case the - pupils were convinced that there is something worth reading and - understanding, but felt that they lacked the capacity; and so they - set to work to become proficient readers. - -A difficulty of enormous importance was the absence of books really -suitable for simple folk to read. - - The insoluble problem was that for the education of the people an - ability and a desire to read good books is essential. Good books - are, however, written in a literary language the people don't - understand. In order to learn to understand it, one would have to - read a great deal; and people won't read willingly unless they - understand what they read. - -Connected with this difficulty of finding books suited to the -understanding of peasants and of peasant children, was the parallel -difficulty of finding literary subjects that interested them. This was -first met by reading the Old Testament stories to them: - - A knowledge of Sacred History was demanded both by the pupils - themselves and by their parents. Of all the oral subjects I tried - during three years, nothing so suited the understanding and mental - condition of the boys as the Old Testament. The same was the case - in all the schools that came under my observation. I tried the - New Testament, I tried Russian History and Geography, I tried - explanations of natural phenomena (so much advocated to-day), but - it was all listened to unwillingly and quickly forgotten. But the - Old Testament was remembered and narrated eagerly both in class and - at home, and so well remembered that after two months the children - wrote Scripture tales from memory with very slight omissions. - - It seems to me that the book of the childhood of the race will - always be the best book for the childhood of each man. It seems to - me impossible to replace that book. To alter or to abbreviate the - Bible, as is done in Sonntag's and other school primers, appears - to me bad. All--every word--in it is right, both as revelation and - as art. Read about the creation of the world in the Bible, and - then read it in an abbreviated Sacred History, and the alteration - of the Bible into the Sacred History will appear to you quite - unintelligible. The latter can only be learnt by heart; while the - Bible presents the child with a vivid and majestic picture he will - never forget. The omissions made in the Sacred History are quite - unintelligible, and only impair the character and beauty of the - Scriptures. Why, for instance, is the statement omitted in all the - Sacred Histories, that when there was nothing, the Spirit of God - moved upon the face of the waters, and that after having created, - God looked at His creation and saw that it was good, and that then - it was the morning and evening of such and such a day? Why do they - omit that God breathed into Adam's nostrils the breath of life, and - that having taken one of his ribs He with the flesh closed up the - place thereof, and so forth? One must read the Bible to unperverted - children, to understand how necessary and true it all is. Perhaps - one ought not to give the Bible to perverted young ladies; but - when reading it to peasant children I did not alter or omit a - single word. None of them giggled behind another's back; but all - listened eagerly and with natural reverence. The story of Lot and - his daughters, and the story of Judah's son, evoked horror but not - laughter.... - - How intelligible and clear it all is, especially for a child, and - yet how stern and serious! I cannot imagine what instruction would - be possible, without that book. Yet when one has learnt these - stories only in childhood, and has afterwards partly forgotten - them, one thinks: What good do they do us? Would it not be all - the same if one did not know them at all? So it seems till, on - beginning to teach, you test on other children the elements that - helped to develop you. It seems as if one could teach children - to write and read and calculate, and could give them an idea of - history, geography, and natural phenomena, without the Bible, and - before the Bible; yet nowhere is this done: everywhere the child - first of all gets to know the Bible, its stories, or extracts from - it. The first relations of the learner to the teacher are founded - on that book. Such a general fact is not an accident. My very free - relations with my pupils at the commencement of the Yasno-Polyana - school helped me to find the explanation of this phenomenon. - - A child or a man on entering school (I make no distinction between - a ten-, thirty-, or seventy-year-old man) brings with him the - special view of things he has deduced from life and to which he is - attached. In order that a man of any age should begin to learn, - it is necessary that he should love learning. That he should love - learning, he must recognise the falseness and insufficiency of - his own view of things, and must scent afar off that new view of - life which learning is to reveal to him. No man or boy would have - the strength to learn, if the result of learning presented itself - to him merely as a capacity to write, to read, and to reckon. - No master could teach if he did not command an outlook on life - higher than his pupils possess. That a pupil may surrender himself - whole-heartedly to his teacher, one corner must be lifted of the - veil which hides from him all the delight of that world of thought, - knowledge, and poetry to which learning will admit him. Only by - being constantly under the spell of that bright light shining ahead - of him, will the pupil be able to use his powers in the way we - require of him. - - What means have we of lifting this corner of the veil?... As I - have said, I thought as many think, that being myself in the world - to which I had to introduce my pupils, it would be easy for me to - do this; and I taught the rudiments, explained natural phenomena, - and told them, as the primers do, that the fruits of learning are - sweet; but the scholars did not believe me, and kept aloof. Then I - tried reading the Bible to them, and quite took possession of them. - The corner of the veil was lifted, and they yielded themselves to - me completely. They fell in love with the book, and with learning, - and with me. It only remained for me to guide them on.... - - To reveal to the pupil a new world, and to make him, without - possessing knowledge, love knowledge, there is no book but the - Bible. I speak even for those who do not regard the Bible as a - revelation. There are no other works--at least I know none--which - in so compressed and poetic a form contain all those sides of - human thought which the Bible unites in itself. All the questions - raised by natural phenomena are there dealt with. Of all the - primitive relations of men with one another: the family, the State, - and religion, we first become conscious through that book. The - generalisations of thought and wisdom, with the charm given by - their childlike simplicity of form, seize the pupil's mind for the - first time. Not only does the lyricism of David's psalms act on the - minds of the elder pupils; but more than that, from this book every - one becomes conscious for the first time of the whole beauty of - the epos in its incomparable simplicity and strength. Who has not - wept over the story of Joseph and his meeting with his brethren? - Who has not, with bated breath, told the story of the bound and - shorn Samson, revenging himself on his enemies and perishing under - the ruins of the palace he destroys, or received a hundred other - impressions on which we were reared as on our mothers' milk? - - Let those who deny the educative value of the Bible and say it is - out of date, invent a book and stories explaining the phenomena of - Nature, either from general history or from the imagination, which - will be accepted as the Bible stories are; and then we will admit - that the Bible is obsolete.... - - Drawn though it may be from a one-sided experience, I repeat my - conviction. The development of a child or a man in our society - without the Bible, is as inconceivable as that of an ancient Greek - would have been without Homer. The Bible is the only book to begin - with, for a child's reading. The Bible, both in its form and in its - contents, should serve as a model for all children's primers and - all reading books. A translation of the Bible into the language of - the common folk, would be the best book for the people. - -When pupils came from other schools where they had had to learn -Scripture by heart, or had been inoculated with the abbreviated -school-primer versions, Tolstoy found that the Bible had nothing like -as strong an effect as it had on boys who came fresh to it. - - Such pupils do not experience what is felt by fresh pupils, who - listen to the Bible with beating heart, seizing every word, - thinking that now, now at last, all the wisdom of the world is - about to be revealed to them. - -In reading the above passages, it should be borne in mind that in -Russian usage 'The Bible' means the Old Testament only. - -Besides the Bible, the only books the people understand and like, says -Tolstoy, are those written not for the people but by the people; such -as folk-tales and collections of songs, legends, proverbs, verses, -and riddles. There was much in his experience which fits in with what -Mr. Cecil Sharp and Miss Neal of the Esperance Club, have lately been -demonstrating by their revivals of English Folk Songs and Dances: -namely, that there is an excellent literature and art which children -and common folk appreciate and assimilate as eagerly and excellently -as any one, and which it is the height of folly for cultured people -to despise; and his keen perception of the gap that separates the -art and literature accessible to the people from the art that by its -artificiality is beyond their reach, led him subsequently to undertake, -first a series of school primers, and then the re-telling of a number -of folk-tales and legends, which have reached more readers, and perhaps -benefited the world more, than anything else he has written. - -With penmanship it happened at Yasno-Polyana school, as with reading: - - The pupils wrote very badly, and a new master introduced writing - from copies (another exercise very sedate and easy for the - master). The pupils became dull, and we were obliged to abandon - calligraphy, and did not know how to devise any way of improving - their handwriting. The eldest class discovered the way for itself. - Having finished writing the Bible stories, the elder pupils began - to ask for their exercise-books to take home [probably to read to - their parents]. These were dirty, crumpled, and badly written. The - precise mathematician P. asked for some paper, and set to work - to rewrite his stories. This idea pleased the others. 'Give me, - too, some paper!'-- 'Give me an exercise-book!' and a fashion for - calligraphy set in, which still prevails in the upper class. They - took an exercise-book, put before them a written alphabet copy from - which they imitated each letter, boasting to one another of their - performance, and in two weeks' time they had made great progress. - -Grammar turned out to be an unsatisfactory subject, and to have hardly -any connection with correct writing or speaking. - - In our youngest--the third--class, they write what they like. - Besides that, the youngest write out in the evening, one at a - time, sentences they have composed all together. One writes, and - the others whisper among themselves, noting his mistakes, and only - waiting till he has finished, in order to denounce his misplaced - e or his wrongly detached prefix, or sometimes to perpetrate a - blunder of their own. To write correctly and to correct mistakes - made by others, gives them great pleasure. The elder boys seize - every letter they can get hold of, exercising themselves in - the correction of mistakes, and trying with all their might to - write correctly; but they cannot bear grammar or the analysis of - sentences, and in spite of a bias we had for analysis, they only - tolerate it to a very limited extent, falling asleep or evading the - classes. - -History on the whole went badly, except such bits of Russian history -as, when told poetically, aroused patriotic feelings. On one memorable -occasion the whole class went wild with excitement and eager interest. -That was when Tolstoy, with a poet's licence, told of the defeat of -Napoleon's invasion of Russia in 1812. - -Except in this legendary way, the teaching of history to children is, -in Tolstoy's opinion, useless. The historic sense develops later than -the artistic sense: - - In my experience and practice the first germ of interest in - history arises out of contemporary events, sometimes as a result - of participation in them, through political interest, political - opinions, debates, and the reading of newspapers. Consequently the - idea of beginning the teaching of history from present times should - suggest itself to every intelligent teacher. - -Of geography as a subject for the education of children, Tolstoy has an -even lower opinion: - - In Von Vizin's comedy _The Minor_, when Mitrofanoushka was being - persuaded to learn geography, his mother said: 'Why teach him - all the countries? The coachman will drive him where he may have - to go to.' Nothing more to the point has ever been said against - geography, and all the learned men in the world put together cannot - rebut such an irrefragable argument. I am speaking quite seriously. - What need was there for me to know where the river and town of - Barcelona are situated, when for thirty-three years I have not once - had occasion to use the knowledge? Not even the most picturesque - description of Barcelona and its inhabitants could, I imagine, - conduce to the development of my mental faculties. - -In fact, the sweeping conclusion at which Tolstoy arrives is that: - - I not only see no use, but I see great harm, in teaching history or - geography before the University is reached. - -And he leaves it an open question whether even the University should -concern itself with such subjects. - -Drawing was a favourite lesson with the boys; but I must confine myself -to a single extract on that subject: - - We drew figures from the blackboard in the following way: I first - drew a horizontal or a vertical line, dividing it into parts by - dots, and the pupils copied this line. Then I drew another or - several perpendicular or sloping lines, standing in a certain - relation to the first, and similarly divided up. Then we joined - the dots of these different lines by others (straight or curved), - and formed some symmetrical figure which, as it was gradually - evolved, was copied by the boys. It seemed to me that this was a - good plan: first, because the boy clearly saw the whole process of - the formation of the figure, and secondly, because his perception - of the co-relation of lines was developed by this drawing from the - board, much better than by copying drawings or designs.... - - It is nearly always useless to hang up a large complete picture - or figure, because a beginner is quite at a loss before it, as he - would be before an object from nature. But the growth of the figure - before his eyes has an important meaning. In this case the pupil - sees the backbone and skeleton of the drawing on which the body is - subsequently formed. The pupils were always called on to criticise - the lines and their relation, as I drew them. I often purposely - drew them wrong, to find out in how far their judgment of the - co-relation and incorrectness of the lines had been developed. Then - again, when I was drawing my figure I asked the boys where they - thought the next line should be added; and I even made one or other - of them invent the shape of the figure himself. - - In this way I not only aroused a more lively interest, but got the - boys to participate freely in the formation and development of - the figures; and this prevented the question. Why? which boys so - naturally put when they are set to draw from copies. - - The ease or difficulty with which it was understood, and the more - or less interest evoked, chiefly influenced the choice of the - method of instruction; and I often quite abandoned what I had - prepared for the lesson, merely because it was dull or foreign to - the boys. - -In the singing class, Tolstoy very soon found that notes written on -the staff were not easily grasped by the pupils, and after using the -staff for some ten lessons, he once showed the boys the use of numbers -instead, and from that day forward they always asked him to use -numbers, and they themselves always used numbers in writing music. -This method is much more convenient, Tolstoy considers, for explaining -both the intervals and the changes of key. The pupils who were not -musical soon dropped out of the class, and the lessons with those -who were, sometimes went on for three or four hours at a stretch. He -tried to teach them musical time in the usual manner, but succeeded -so badly that he had to take that and melody separately. First he -took the sounds without reference to time, and then beat the time -without considering the sounds, and finally joined the two processes -together. After several lessons he found that the method he had drifted -into, combined the chief features (though not some of the minor -peculiarities) of Chevet's method, which, as already mentioned, he had -seen in successful operation in Paris. After a very few lessons, two of -the boys used to write down the melodies of the songs they knew, and -were almost able to read music at sight. - -From the limited experience he had in teaching music, Tolstoy--to -quote his own words almost textually--became convinced that: (1) To -write sounds by means of figures is the most profitable method; (2) To -teach time separately from sound is the most profitable method; (3) -For the teaching of music to be willingly and fruitfully received, one -must from the start teach the _art_ and not aim merely at dexterity -in singing or playing. Spoilt young ladies may be taught to play -Burgmueller's exercises; but it is better not to teach the children of -the people at all, than to teach them mechanically; (4) Nothing so -harms musical instruction as what looks like a knowledge of music: -namely the performance of choirs, and performances at examinations, -speech-days, or in church; and (5) In teaching music to the people, the -thing to be aimed at is to impart our knowledge of the general laws of -music, but not the false taste we have developed among us. - -In one of the most remarkable of his articles, Tolstoy tells how he -discovered that Fedka and Syomka possessed literary ability of the -highest order. Composition lessons had not gone well, until one day -Tolstoy proposed that the children should write a story of peasant -life to illustrate a popular proverb. Most of them felt this to be -beyond their powers, and went on with their other occupations. One -of them, however, bade Tolstoy write it himself in competition with -them, and he set to work to do so, till Fedka, climbing on the back of -his chair, interrupted him by reading over his shoulder. Tolstoy then -began reading out what he had composed, and explaining how he thought -of continuing the story. Several of the boys became interested, not -approving of Tolstoy's work, but criticising and amending it, offering -suggestions and supplying details. Syomka and Fedka particularly -distinguished themselves, and showed extraordinary imagination, and -such judgment, sense of proportion, restraint, and power of clothing -their thoughts in words, that Tolstoy was carried away by the interest -of the work and wrote as hard as he could to their dictation, having -constantly to ask them to wait and not forget the details they had -suggested. Fedka--of whom Tolstoy says that 'The chief quality in every -art, the sense of proportion, was in him extraordinarily developed: -he writhed at every superfluous detail suggested by any of the other -boys,'--gradually took control of the work, and ruled so despotically -and with such evident right, that the others dropped off and went home, -except Syomka, who along his own more matter-of-fact line continued to -co-operate. - - We worked from seven in the evening till eleven. They felt neither - hunger nor weariness and were even angry with me when I stopped - writing; and they set to work to do it themselves turn and turn - about, but did not get on well and soon gave it up.... - - I left the lesson because I was too excited. - - 'What is the matter with you? Why are you so pale: are you ill?' - asked my colleague. Indeed, only two or three times in my life have - I experienced such strong emotion as during that evening.... - -Next day Tolstoy could hardly believe the experience of the night -before. It seemed incredible that a peasant boy, hardly able to read, -should suddenly display such marvellous command of artistic creative -power. - - It seemed to me strange and offensive that I, the author of - _Childhood_, who had achieved a certain success and was recognised - by the educated Russian public as possessing artistic talent, - should in artistic matters not merely be unable to instruct or - help eleven-year-old Syomka and Fedka, but should hardly be able, - except at a happy moment of excitement, to keep up with them and - understand them. - - Next day we set to work to continue the story. When I asked Fedka - if he had thought of a continuation, he only waved his hand and - remarked: 'I know, I know!... Who will do the writing?'... We - resumed the work, and again the boys showed the same enthusiasm, - and the same sense of artistic truth and proportion. - - Half-way through the lesson I had to leave them. They wrote two - pages without me, as just in feeling and as true to life as the - preceding ones. These two pages were rather poorer in detail, some - of the details were not quite happily placed, and there were also a - couple of repetitions. All this had evidently occurred because the - actual writing was a difficulty for them. On the third day we had - similar success.... There could no longer be any doubt or thought - of its being a mere accident. We had obviously succeeded in finding - a more natural and inspiring method than any we had previously - tried. - -This unfinished story was accidentally destroyed. Tolstoy was greatly -annoyed, and Fedka and Syomka, though they did not understand his -vexation, offered to stay the night at his house and reproduce it. -After eight o'clock, when school was over, they came, and (to -Tolstoy's great pleasure) locked themselves into his study, where at -first they were heard laughing but then became very quiet. On listening -at the door Tolstoy heard their subdued voices discussing the story, -and heard also the scratching of a pen. At midnight he knocked and -was admitted. Syomka was standing at the large table, writing busily; -his lines running crookedly across the paper and his pen constantly -seeking the inkstand. Fedka told Tolstoy to 'wait a bit,' and insisted -on Syomka's adding something more, to his dictation. At last Tolstoy -took the exercise-book; and the lads, after enjoying a merry supper of -potatoes and _kvas_, divested themselves of their sheepskin coats and -lay down to sleep under the writing table; their 'charming, healthy, -childish, peasant laughter' still ringing through the room. - -The story just mentioned, and other stories written by the children, -were published in the magazine; and Tolstoy declares them to be, in -their way, superior to anything else in Russian literature. It was -largely on the model of these peasant children's stories that, years -later, he wrote his own famous stories for the people. - -The rules for encouraging composition which he deduces from his -experience are these: - - (1) To offer as large and varied a choice of themes as possible; - not inventing them specially for the children, but offering such as - most interest the teacher and seem to him most important. - - (2) To give children stories written by children to read, and to - offer only children's compositions as models; because these are - juster, finer and more moral than those written by adults. - - (3) (Specially important.) Never, when looking through the - compositions, make any remarks to the children about the neatness - of the exercise-books, the handwriting, or the spelling; nor, above - all, about the construction of the sentences, or about logic. - - (4) Since the difficulty of composition lies not in size nor in - subject, nor in correctness of language, but in the mechanism of - the work, which consists: (_a_) in choosing one out of the large - number of thoughts and images that offer themselves; (_b_) in - choosing words wherewith to clothe it; (_c_) in remembering it - and finding a fitting place for it; (_d_) in remembering what - has already been written, so as not to repeat anything or omit - anything, and in finding a way of joining up what has preceded to - what succeeds; (_e_) and finally in so managing that while thinking - and writing at one and the same time, the one operation shall not - hamper the other,--I, having these things in view, proceeded as - follows. - - At first I took upon myself some of these sides of the work, - transferring them gradually to the pupils. At first, out of the - thoughts and images suggested, I chose for them those which seemed - to me best, and I kept these in mind and indicated suitable places - to insert them, and I looked over what had been written to avoid - repetitions, and I did the writing myself, letting them merely - clothe the thoughts and images in words. Afterwards I let them - select, and then let them look over what had been written, and - finally they took on themselves the actual writing.... - -One of the profoundest convictions impressed on Tolstoy's mind by his -educational experiments was that the peasants and their children have a -large share of artistic capacity, and that art is immensely important -because of its humanising effect on them, and because it arouses and -trains their faculties. Unfortunately the works: literary, poetic, -dramatic, pictorial and plastic, now produced, are being produced -expressly for people possessed of leisure, wealth, and a special, -artificial training, and are therefore useless to the people. This -deflection of art from the service of the masses of whom there are -millions, to the delectation of the classes of whom there are but -thousands, appears to him to be a very great evil. - -He says with reference to two realms of art which he had loved -passionately, and with which he was specially familiar: music and -poetry, that he noticed that the demands of the masses were more -legitimate than the demands of the classes. - - Terrible to say, I came to the conviction that all that we have - done in those two departments has been done along a false and - exceptional path, which lacks importance, has no future, and is - insignificant in comparison with the demands upon, and even with - the samples of, those same arts which we find put forward by the - people. I became convinced that such lyrical compositions as, - for example, Poushkin's 'I remember the marvellous moment,' and - such musical productions as Beethoven's Last Symphony, are not so - absolutely and universally good as the song of 'Willy the Steward' - or the melody of 'Floating down the river, Mother Volga'; and that - Poushkin and Beethoven please us, not because they are absolutely - beautiful, but because we are as spoiled as they, and because they - flatter our abnormal irritability and weakness. How common it is to - hear the empty and stale paradox, that to understand the beautiful, - a preparation is necessary! Who said so? Why? What proves it? It - is only a shift, a loophole, to escape from the hopeless position - to which the false direction of our art, produced for one class - alone, has led us. Why are the beauty of the sun and of the human - face, and the beauty of the sounds of a folk-song, and of deeds of - love and self-sacrifice, accessible to every one, and why do _they_ - demand no preparation? - - For years I vainly strove to make my pupils feel the poetic - beauties of Poushkin and of our whole literature, and a similar - attempt is being made by innumerable teachers not in Russia alone; - and if these teachers notice the results of their efforts, and will - be frank about the matter, they will admit that the chief result of - this attempt to develop poetic feeling, is to kill it; and that it - is just those pupils whose natures are most poetic who show most - aversion to such commentaries.... - - I will try to sum up all that I have said above. In reply to the - question: Do people need the _beaux arts_? pedagogues usually grow - timid and confused (only Plato decided the matter boldly in the - negative). They say: 'Art is needed, but with certain limitations; - and to make it possible for all to become artists would be bad for - the social structure. Certain arts and certain degrees of art can - only exist in a certain class of society. The arts must have their - special servants, entirely devoted to them,' They say: 'It should - be possible for those who are greatly gifted to escape from among - the people and devote themselves completely to the service of art.' - That is the greatest concession pedagogy makes to the right of each - individual to become what he likes. - - But I consider that to be all wrong. I think that a need to - enjoy art and to serve art, is inherent in every human being, to - whatever race or class he may belong; and that this need has its - right and should be satisfied. Taking that position as an axiom, - I say that if the enjoyment and production of art by every one, - presents inconveniences and inconsistencies, the reason lies in the - character and direction art has taken: about which we must be on - our guard, lest we foist anything false on the rising generation, - and lest we prevent it from producing something new, both as to - form and as to matter. - -Tolstoy goes so far as to doubt whether, so long as no suitable -literature is produced for the people, it is even worth their while to -learn to read. - - Looking closer at the results of the rudiments in the form in which - they are supplied to the masses, I think most people will decide - that the rudiments do more harm than good, taking into account - the prolonged compulsion, the disproportionate development of - memory, the false conception of the completeness of science, the - aversion to further education, the false vanity, and the habit of - meaningless reading acquired in these schools.... - - 'Let us print good books for the people!'... How simple and easy - that seems--like all great thoughts! There is only one obstacle, - namely that there exist no good books for the people, either here - or in Europe. To print such books, they must first be produced; and - none of our philanthropists think of undertaking _that_ work! - -Before closing this rapid summary of Tolstoy's educational writings, -let me quote a few more sentences which sum up his essential position: - - In my articles on Education I have given my theoretic reasons for - considering that only freedom on the part of the pupils to select - what they will learn and how they will learn it, can furnish a - sound basis for any instruction. In practice I constantly applied - those rules to the schools under my guidance ...and the results - were always very good both for the teachers and the pupils, as well - as for the evolution of new methods; and this I assert boldly, for - hundreds of visitors came to the Yasno-Polyana school and know how - it worked. - - For the masters, the result of such relations with the pupils was - that they did not consider any methods they happened to know, - to be the best, but they tried to discover new methods and made - acquaintance with other teachers whose ways they could learn. They - tested fresh methods, and above all, they themselves were always - learning. A master never allowed himself, in cases of failure, to - think that it was the pupils' fault: their laziness, naughtiness, - stupidity, deafness or stuttering; but he was convinced that the - fault was his own, and for every defect on the side of the pupil or - pupils, he tried to discover a remedy. - - For the pupils the results were that they learnt eagerly, always - begged to have additional lessons on winter evenings, and were - quite free in class--which, in my conviction and experience, is the - chief condition of successful teaching. Between the teachers and - the pupils friendly and natural relations always arose, without - which it is not possible for a teacher to know his pupils fully.... - - With reference to the methods of instruction, the results were that - no method was adopted or rejected because it pleased or did not - please the teacher, but only because the pupil, without compulsion, - accepted or did not accept it. But besides the good results which - unfailingly followed the adoption of my method both by myself and - by all--more than twenty--other teachers (I say 'unfailingly' - because we never had a single pupil who did not master the - rudiments)--besides these results, the adoption of the principles - of which I have spoken produced this effect, that during fifteen - years all the different modifications to which my method has been - subjected, have not only not removed it from the demands of the - people, but have brought it closer and closer to them.... In my - school... every teacher, while bringing his pupils forward, himself - feels the need of learning; and this was constantly the case with - all the teachers I had. - - Moreover, the very methods of instruction themselves--since they - are not fixed once for all but aim at finding the easiest and - simplest paths--change and improve according to what the teacher - learns from the pupils' relation to his teaching. - -The children had not to pay anything for attending the school, and the -relations between them and Tolstoy are illustrated by the account a -visitor has given of seeing Tolstoy rush through a gate followed by a -crowd of merry youngsters who were snow-balling him. Tolstoy was intent -on making his escape, but on seeing the visitor he changed his mind, -acknowledged his defeat, and surrendered to his triumphant pursuers. - -Tolstoy does not stand before the world to-day primarily as a -school-master, and even were I competent to deal with the subject, -it would exceed the limits of this biography to attempt a detailed -criticism of his precepts and practice; but he evidently possessed, as -he claims in one of his articles, 'a certain pedagogic tact'; and he -is clearly right in his belief that the rigid discipline of schools, -the lack of freedom and initiative, the continual demand for silence -and obedience, and the refusal to allow pupils to criticise the lessons -they receive, have a constantly stupefying effect. - -All that he allowed at Yasnaya Polyana was denied to us when I was at -Christ's Hospital, in 1868-1874; and I look back on those six years -of mental stultification as the most wretched of my life. At the -preparatory school in Hertford, so stupefied were the little boys by -terror and discipline, that when the head-master (traditionally an -incarnation of all the virtues) became grossly harsh and unfair, they -could not see what was happening until his insanity was so pronounced -that the doctors had to take him in hand: an event that occurred soon -after I had left for the upper school in London. - -There, one of the masters (who evidently did not believe that 'history -is experience teaching by example') in intervals between whacking -the boys on their backs or hands with a long cane, used, I remember, -emphatically to announce that 'dates and names are the most important -parts of history.' A Latin master, a barrister, who was usually busy -at some sort of law work when he should have been teaching us, used to -set us to learn by rote rules and illustrations which we did not in the -least understand. On one occasion the example given in the grammar was: - - _Opes irritamenta malorum effodiuntur._ - - Riches the incentives of crime are dug out of the earth. - -The top boy had learnt the rule and illustration by heart (which I -never could do); but, departing from his usual routine, the master -unexpectedly asked which Latin word corresponded to which English. Each -of the first twenty-four boys in the class in turn got caned and sent -to the bottom; so that by the time I, who had been last, had come to -the top, and it was my turn to reply, only one possible combination -remained untried, and I was able to announce that _effodiuntur_ meant -'are dug out of the earth.' Unluckily there was another rule that day, -and over this I, in turn, came to grief, and was caned and sent to the -bottom. - -In the drawing class I remember doing the outline of a cube to the -master's satisfaction, and being promoted to the shading class. I had -no idea how to shade, and the attempt I made was certainly a very bad -one; but instead of receiving advice or assistance, my ears were boxed -so violently that I should be tempted to attribute to that assault the -slight deafness from which I have since suffered, were it not that such -treatment was so common at Christ's Hospital, that none of the victims -whose hearing may have been impaired, could be sure to which of the -masters they owed that part of their preparation for the battle of life. - -I feel sure the stultifying effects of such cruel and senseless -treatment would have been even more serious, had not the school -authorities, by some strange oversight, allowed _one_ really readable -and interesting periodical to find a place among the Sunday magazines -and other sterilised literature obtainable in the School Library. This -one publication, which I read ardently during my school years, was -_Chambers's Journal_. It contained novels by James Payn, and other -matter suited to my powers of mental digestion. From smuggled copies of -Captain Marryat's novels I also got a good deal of culture: far more, I -am sure, than from any of the lessons we endured. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER VIII - -Tolstoy's Educational articles, and N. V. Ouspensky, _Iz Proshlago_. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - MARRIAGE - -The Behrs visit Yasnaya. Proposal by thought-reading. The Diary. -Marriage. Ministers on magazine. The school closed and the magazine -stopped. Family happiness. Health. Fet's visit. Sergius born. Children. -_The Cossacks_ and _Polikoushka_. Bees. Plays. _Confession._ Saving the -hay. _Decembrists._ Samara. Preparations for _War and Peace_. Collected -edition. Translations. Dislocates arm. Tatiana born. Fears of famine. -Sergius (brother) and Tanya Behrs. Nikolsky. Visits Borodino. Tolstoy -at home and with the children. Relations with servants. Masquerade. -Moscow. Drawing school. Sculpture. Ilya born. Pleads at court-martial. -Dr. Zaharin. _Smoke._ Fet's Literary Evening. _War and Peace._ -Schopenhauer. Penza. Death of V. P. Botkin. The Countess and the -children's education. English nurse. Tolstoy's habits. Visitors. Fet. -Tolstoy's ardour. Property. Untidiness. Respect for sleep. Newspapers. -Characteristics. Studies the drama. - - -TO one who admires Tolstoy's educational work, it is somewhat -disconcerting to see how scornfully he spoke of it sixteen years later -in his _Confession_. But that is always his way: the old is useless and -worthless and bad; only the new, the unachieved, the fresh ideal, is -admirable. For it, he decries all that the past has produced--including -himself and his former work. He makes his points broadly and -powerfully, but to understand, we must discriminate, and allow for an -artistic temperament tempting him to exaggerate. Let him however speak -for himself, that the reader may judge: - - On returning from abroad I settled in the country, and happened to - occupy myself with peasant schools. This work was particularly to - my taste, because in it I had not to face the falsity which had - become obvious to me and stared me in the face when I tried to - teach people by literary means. Here, also, I acted in the name - of Progress, but I already regarded Progress itself critically. - I said to myself: 'In some of its developments Progress has - proceeded wrongly; and with primitive peasant children one must - deal in a spirit of perfect freedom, letting them choose what - path of Progress they please.' In reality I was ever revolving - round one and the same insoluble problem, which was: How to teach - without knowing what? In the higher spheres of literary activity - I had realised that one could not teach without knowing what; - for I saw that people all taught differently, and by quarrelling - among themselves succeeded only in hiding their ignorance from one - another. But here, with peasant children, I thought to evade this - difficulty by letting them learn what they liked. It amuses me now, - when I remember how I shuffled in trying to fulfil my desire to - teach, while in the depth of my soul I knew very well that I could - not teach anything needful, for I did not know what was needful. - - After spending a year at school work, I went abroad a second time, - to discover how to teach others while myself knowing nothing. - - And it seemed to me that I had learnt this abroad, and in the year - of the peasants' Emancipation I returned to Russia armed with - all this wisdom; and having become an Arbiter, I began to teach - both the uneducated peasants in schools, and the educated classes - through a magazine I published. Things appeared to be going well, - but I felt I was not quite sound mentally, and that matters could - not long continue in that way. And I should perhaps then have come - to the state of despair at which I arrived fifteen years later, had - there not been one side of life still unexplored by me, and which - promised me happiness: that was marriage. - - For a year I busied myself with Arbitration work, the schools, and - the magazine; and I became so worn-out--as a result especially of - my mental confusion--and so hard was my struggle as Arbiter, so - obscure the results of my activity in the schools, so repulsive my - shuffling in the magazine (which always amounted to one and the - same thing: a desire to teach everybody, and to hide the fact that - I did not know what to teach) that I fell ill, mentally rather than - physically, and threw up everything, and went away to the Bashkirs - in the steppes, to breathe fresh air, drink _koumys_, and live an - animal life. - - -1862 - -Tired of and dissatisfied with his work, and thinking he detected in -himself signs of the malady that had carried off two of his brothers, -he set off in May 1862 (accompanied by his servant Alexis and two of -his pupils) to undergo a koumys (soured and fermented mares' milk) cure -in the Samara steppes east of the Volga. - -He went first to Moscow, and his friend Raevsky has told how Tolstoy -came up to him in the Club there, and mentioned with great indignation -and vexation that his brother was playing cards and had lost Rs. -7000 in a few hours. 'How can men do such things?' said Tolstoy. -Half-an-hour later Raevsky saw Leo Tolstoy himself playing Chinese -billiards (a game something like bagatelle, played on a board with -wire impediments) and learnt that he had lost Rs. 1000 to the stranger -with whom he was playing! This was, I believe, the last occasion on -which Tolstoy played any game for stakes he found it difficult to pay. -The occurrence led to the premature publication of his novel _The -Cossacks_, which he had had in hand for several years, but to which he -still intended to add a second part. Not having Rs. 1000 (then about -L150) available, he let Katkof, the well-known publicist, editor of -the _Moscow Gazette_ and of the monthly _Russian Messenger_, have the -story for that sum paid in advance. This 'Tale of the Year 1852,' as -the sub-title runs, is based on Tolstoy's Caucasian experiences. The -circumstances which led to its premature publication made the work -repugnant to him, and he never completed it. - -Among those to whom he mentioned the occurrence were the Behrs, of whom -Miss Sophie was already so interested in him that she wept at the news. -At their home he was always a welcome and intimate guest, and as time -went on he saw more and more of that family. - -From Moscow he proceeded to Tver by rail, and thence by steamer down -the Volga to Samara. - -At Kazan he stopped to visit his relation V. I. Ushkof: and from Samara -he wrote to Aunt Tatiana: - - _27 May 1862._ - - To-day I shall start to drive ninety miles from Samara to - Karalyk.... - - I have had a beautiful journey; the country pleases me very much; - my health is better, _i.e._ I cough less. Alexis and the boys are - alive and well, as you may tell their relations. Please write - me about Sergey, or let him do so. Greet all my dear comrades - [probably the masters in the schools] for me, and request them to - write me of what goes on, and of how they are getting on.... - -In another letter, dated 28th June 1862, he wrote: - - It is now a month since I had any news of you or from home; - please write me about everybody: first, our family; secondly, - the (University) students [who acted as masters in the schools] - etc. Alexis and I have grown fatter, he especially, but we still - cough a little, and again he especially. We are living in a - Tartar tent; the weather is beautiful. I have found my friend - Stolypin--now Ataman in Ouralsk--and have driven over to see him; - and have brought back from there a secretary; but I dictate and - write little. Idleness overcomes one when drinking koumys. In - two weeks' time I intend to leave here, and I expect to be home - by St. Elijah's day [20 July, old style]. I am tormented in this - out-of-the-way place by not knowing what is going on, and also by - the thought that I am horribly behind-hand with the publication of - the magazine. I kiss your hand.... - -Just when Tolstoy was leaving Karalyk a most unexpected event was -occurring at Yasnaya, where his sister Mary was staying with Aunt -Tatiana. Owing to the denunciation of a police spy who, among other -lies, pretended to have discovered a secret door in Tolstoy's -house, the police authorities decided to search his estate; and -one morning--to the immense astonishment of the neighbouring -peasants--police, watchmen, officials, and gendarmes, under the -command of a Colonel, appeared upon the scene! In the school-house -a photographic apparatus was found: a thing sufficiently rare in a -Russian village in those days to evoke the suspicious inquiries of -the gendarme officer, to whom one of the student-teachers chaffingly -volunteered the information that it was kept to photograph Herzen (the -celebrated exile, then living in London); but nowhere were any secret -doors found. - -The floors of the stables were broken up with crowbars to see if -anything was hidden there. The pond was dragged, but nothing more -incriminating than crayfish and carp was found. All the cupboards, -drawers, boxes and desks in the house were opened and searched, and the -ladies were frightened almost to death. A police-officer from Toula -would not even allow Tolstoy's sister to leave the library till he had -finished reading aloud in her presence and in that of two gendarmes, -Tolstoy's Diary and letters, which contained the most intimate secrets -of his life and which he had kept private since he was sixteen years -old. - -Finding nothing incriminating at Yasnaya, the representatives of -law and order next betook themselves to the other schools working -in conjunction with Tolstoy, and there also they turned tables and -cupboards upside down, seized exercise-books and primers, arrested the -teachers, and spread the wildest suspicions abroad among the peasants, -to whom school education was still a novelty held somewhat in suspicion. - -On receiving news of this event Tolstoy at once wrote to his aunt, the -Countess A. A. Tolstoy, asking her to speak to those who knew him well -and had influence, and on whose aid he could rely. Said he: - - I cannot and will not let this affair pass. All the activity in - which I found solace and happiness, has been spoilt. Aunty is so - ill from fright that she will probably not recover. The peasants - no longer regard me as an honest man--an opinion I had earned in - the course of years--but as a criminal, an incendiary, or a coiner, - whose cunning alone has enabled him to escape punishment. - - 'Eh, man, you've been found out! Don't talk to us any more about - honesty and justice--you've hardly escaped handcuffs yourself!' - - From the landed proprietors I need not say what a cry of rapture - went up. Please write to me as soon as possible, after consulting - Perovsky [Count V. A. P.] and Alexey Tolstoy [Count A. T., the - dramatist and poet] and any one else you like, as to how I am to - write to the Emperor and how best to present my letter. It is too - late to prevent the injury the thing has done, or to extricate - myself, and there is no way out except by receiving satisfaction as - public as the insult has been; and this I have firmly resolved on. - I shall not join Herzen; he has his way, I have mine. Neither will - I hide.... But I will loudly announce that I am selling my estate - and mean to leave Russia, where one cannot know from moment to - moment what awaits one.... - -At the end of an eight-page letter he mentions that the Colonel -of gendarmes, on leaving, threatened to renew his search till he -discovered 'if anything is hidden'; and Tolstoy adds, 'I have loaded -pistols in my room, and am waiting to see how this matter will end.' - -He also remarked: 'I often say to myself, How exceedingly fortunate -it was that I was not at home at the time! Had I been there, I should -certainly now be awaiting my trial for murder!' - -Soon after this, Alexander II spent some time at Petrovsky Park, near -Moscow. There Tolstoy presented a letter claiming reparation, which an -aide-de-camp undertook to give to the Emperor; and some weeks later the -Governor of Toula transmitted to Tolstoy the Emperor's expression of -regret for what had occurred. - -It is easy to imagine the effect such an outrage as this police-search -would have on a man of Tolstoy's acute self-esteem, and how it would -intensify his hatred of Government. - -After his return from Samara, he saw more of the Behrs than ever. Fet, -whom he introduced to them, thus records his impressions of the family: - - I found the doctor to be an amiable old gentleman of polite - manners, and his wife a handsome, majestic brunette who evidently - ruled the house. I refrain from describing the three young ladies, - of whom the youngest had an admirable contralto voice. They all, - notwithstanding the watchful supervision of their mother and their - irreproachable modesty, possessed that attractive quality which the - French designate by the words _du chien_ [lively, full of go]. The - service and the dinner were admirable. - -Madame Behrs was on very friendly terms with Tolstoy's sister, the -Countess Mary; and before he went abroad Tolstoy had frequently, at the -house of the latter, played with the children of both families. In 1862 -he often visited the Behrs at Pokrovskoe-Glebovo, where they lived in a -_datcha_ (country house) they occupied every summer. He nearly always -walked the eight miles from Moscow, and often took long rambles with -the family besides. The girls had been educated at home, but Sophia -Andreyevna, the second daughter, had passed a University examination -entitling her to the diploma qualifying to teach both in private and in -State schools. - -We may judge of Tolstoy's state of mind at this time by an entry in -his Diary, dated 23rd August: 'I am afraid of myself. What if this be -only a _desire_ for love and not real love? I try to notice only her -weak points, but yet I love.' And again, 'I rose in good health, with -a particularly clear head, and wrote easily, though the matter was -feeble. Then I felt more sad than I have done for a long time. I have -no friends at all. I am alone. I had friends when I served Mammon, but -have none when I serve truth.' - -On 26th August he notes that Sonya (Miss Sophia Behrs) gave him a story -to read, written by herself, and her description of the hero as a man -of 'unusually unattractive appearance, and changeable convictions' hit -him hard; but he was relieved to find that it was not meant for him. - -On his thirty-fourth birthday, 28th August 1862 (old style) he jotted -down in his Diary the words: 'Ugly mug! Do not think of marriage; your -calling is of another kind.' - -About this time the Behrs paid a two weeks' visit to Madame Behrs' -father's estate of Ivitsa, some thirty miles from Yasnaya, and _en -route_ they stopped a couple of days at Yasnaya to visit the Countess -Mary. The day after their arrival a picnic party was arranged with some -neighbours. It was haymaking time, and there was much haystack climbing -by the picknickers. The general impression was that Tolstoy was in love -with Lisa, the eldest Miss Behrs: this opinion being fostered by the -idea, then common in Russia, that an elder daughter should be disposed -of before a younger daughter may be courted. - -A few days later Tolstoy followed the Behrs to Ivitsa; and here the -scene occurred which he has utilised in _Anna Karenina_ when describing -Levin's proposal to Kitty--a scene in which something approaching -thought-reading takes place. - -Sitting at a card-table with Miss Sophia Behrs, Tolstoy wrote the -initial letters of the sentence: - -'In your family a false opinion exists about me and your sister Lisa; -you and Tanitchka should destroy it.' - -Miss Sophia read the letters, understood what words they stood for, and -nodded her head. - -Tolstoy then wrote the initial letters of another sentence: - -'Your youth and need of happiness, to-day remind me too strongly of my -age and the impossibility of happiness.' - -The nature of the Russian language (with its inflections instead -of particles, and the absence of articles) somewhat diminishes the -miracle; but the test was a very severe one, and again the girl guessed -the words aright. The two understood one another, and their fate was -practically sealed. - -The Behrs returned to Pokrovskoe-Glebovo in September. Tolstoy -accompanied them on the carriage-journey back to Moscow and visited -them every day, bringing music for the young ladies, playing the piano -for them, and accompanying the youngest--whom he nicknamed 'Madame -Viardot' after the famous singer. - -On the 17th of that month (the name's day of Sophia) Tolstoy handed -his future wife a letter containing a proposal of marriage, which she -gladly accepted. Her father, displeased that the second daughter should -be preferred to the eldest, at first refused his assent. But Tolstoy -was strenuously insistent--I have even heard that he threatened to -shoot himself--and the doctor soon yielded to the united persuasion of -daughter and suitor. - -The bridegroom's sense of honour led him to hand his future wife the -Diary, in which, mingled with hopes, prayers, self-castigations and -self-denunciations, the sins and excesses of his bachelorhood were -recorded. To the girl, who had looked upon him as a personification -of the virtues, this revelation came as a great shock; but after a -sleepless night passed in weeping bitterly over it, she returned the -Diary and forgave the past. - -To get married it was necessary first to confess and receive the -eucharist. Tolstoy's own experiences in this matter are narrated in -Chapter I of Part V of _Anna Karenina_, where they are attributed to -Levin. - -The marriage took place within a week of the proposal, namely on 23rd -September 1862, in the Court church of the Kremlin, the bridegroom -being thirty-four and the bride eighteen years of age. When the -ceremony was over the couple left Moscow in a _dormeuse_ (sleeping -carriage), and drove to Yasnaya Polyana, where Tolstoy's brother Sergey -and Aunt Tatiana were awaiting them. - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY IN 1862, THE YEAR OF HIS MARRIAGE.] - -Fet records the letter in which Tolstoy informed him of his marriage: - - FETOUSHKA [an endearing diminutive of Fet] UNCLE, or simply - DEAR FRIEND AFANASY AFANASYEVITCH!--I have been married two weeks - and am happy, and am a new, quite a new man. I want to visit - you, but cannot manage it. When shall I see you? Having come to - myself, I feel that I value you very, very much. We have so many - unforgettable things in common: Nikolenka, and much besides. Do - drive over and make my acquaintance. I kiss Marya Petrovna's hand. - Farewell, dear friend. I embrace you with all my heart. - -In another letter belonging to the same period he writes: - - I am writing from the country, and while I write, from upstairs - where she is talking to my brother, I hear the voice of my wife, - whom I love more than the whole world. I have lived to the age of - thirty-four without knowing that it was possible to love, and to be - so happy. When I am more tranquil I will write you a long letter. - I should not say 'more tranquil,' for I am now more tranquil - and clear than I have ever been, but I should say, 'when I am - accustomed to it.' At present I have a constant feeling of having - stolen an undeserved, illicit, and not-for-me-intended happiness. - There ... she is coming! I hear her, and it is so good!... And why - do such good people as you, and, most wonderful of all, such a - being as my wife, love me? - -It did not much disturb his happiness, when, before Tolstoy had been -married a fortnight, an event occurred which might easily have led to -very disagreeable consequences. On 3rd October the Minister of the -Interior called the attention of the Minister of Education to the -harmful nature of the _Yasnaya Polyana_ magazine. This is what he wrote: - - A careful perusal of the educational magazine, _Yasnaya Polyana_, - edited by Count Tolstoy, leads to the conviction that that - magazine ... frequently propagates ideas which apart from their - incorrectness are by their very tendency harmful.... I consider - it necessary to direct your Excellency's attention to the general - tendency and spirit of that magazine, which often infringes the - fundamental rules of religion and morality.... I have the honour - to inform you, Sir, of this, in the expectation that you may be - inclined to consider it desirable to direct the special attention - of the Censor to this publication. - -Fortunately the decision of the matter did not lie with the Minister -of the Interior, but with the Minister of Education, who on receiving -this communication had the magazine in question carefully examined, -and, on 24th October, replied that he found nothing harmful or -contrary to religion in its tendency. It contained extreme opinions on -educational matters, no doubt, but these, he said, should be criticised -in educational periodicals rather than prohibited by the Censor. 'In -general,' added the Minister: - - I must say that Count Tolstoy's educational activity deserves full - respect, and the Ministry of Education is bound to assist and - co-operate with him, though it cannot share all his views, some of - which after full consideration he will himself probably reject. - -Other things besides the suspicion in which he was held by the Minister -of the Interior, tended to discourage Tolstoy. His magazine had few -subscribers and attracted but little attention. The year's issue was -causing him a loss of something like Rs. 3000 (say about L450)--a -larger sum than he could well afford to throw away. So he decided to -discontinue it after the twelfth number. The month after his marriage -he also closed the school, which was too great a tax on his time and -attention. - -It has often been said that the obstacles placed in his way by the -Government turned him aside from educational work, but in speaking -to me about it Tolstoy remarked that really the main factor was his -marriage, and his preoccupation with family life. - -Both he and his wife were absorbed by their personal happiness, though -from time to time small quarrels and misunderstandings arose between -them. So impulsive and strenuous a nature as Tolstoy's was sure to -have its fluctuations of feeling, but on the whole the ties binding -the couple together grew stronger and closer as the months passed into -years. - -The Countess's parents used to say: 'We could not have wished for -greater happiness for our daughter.' The Countess not only loved -Tolstoy dearly as a husband, but had the deepest admiration for him as -a writer. He on his side often said that he found in family life the -completest happiness, and in Sophia Andreyevna not only a loving wife -and an excellent mother for his children, but an admirable assistant -in his literary work, in which, owing to his careless and unmethodical -habits, an intelligent and devoted amanuensis was invaluable. The -Countess acquired remarkable skill in deciphering his often extremely -illegible handwriting, and was sometimes able to guess in a quite -extraordinary way the meaning of his hasty jottings and incomplete -sentences. - -One drawback to their almost complete happiness lay in the fact that -though active and possessed of great physical strength, Tolstoy -seldom enjoyed any long periods of uninterrupted good health. In his -correspondence we find frequent references to indisposition. In early -manhood, he seems to have distended his stomach, and, especially after -the hardships he endured during the war of 1854-5, he was subject to -digestive troubles for the rest of his days. - -Town life did not attract him. He had never felt at ease in what is -called high society; nor were his means large enough to enable him to -support a wife and family in a good position in town. Still, towards -the close of the year of his marriage, he and the Countess spent some -weeks in Moscow. - - -1863 - -They were however soon back at Yasnaya. In February Fet visited them -there, and found them overflowing with life and happiness. - -On 15th May, after the Tolstoys and Fet had by some chance just missed -meeting at the house of a neighbouring proprietor, Tolstoy wrote to his -friend: - - We just missed seeing you, and how sorry I am that we did! How - much I want to talk over with you. Not a day passes without our - mentioning you several times. My wife is not at all 'playing with - dolls.' Don't you insult her. She is my serious helpmate, though - now bearing a burden from which she hopes to be free early in - July. What won't she do afterwards? We are _ufanizing_[48] little - by little. I have made an important discovery, which I hasten to - impart to you. Clerks and overseers are only a hindrance to the - management of an estate. Try the experiment of dismissing them all; - then sleep ten hours a day, and be assured that everything will - get along _not worse_. I have made the experiment and am quite - satisfied with its success. - - [48] This word, when first invented by Nicholas Tolstoy, meant - ploughing, but it had by now come to mean farming in general. - - How, oh how, are we to see one another? If you go to Moscow with - Marya Petrovna and do not come to visit us, it will be dreadful - offensive. (My wife, who was reading this letter, prompted that - sentence.) I wanted to write much, but time lacks. I embrace you - with all my heart; my wife bows profoundly to you, and I to your - wife. - - _Business_: When you are in Orel, buy me 20 poods [720 lbs.] of - various kinds of twine, reins, and shaft-traces, if they cost less - than Rs. 2.30 per pood including carriage, and send them me by a - carter. The money shall be paid at once. - -Fet soon availed himself of the invitation, and after driving past -the low towers which mark the entrance to the birch alley leading to -the house, he came upon Tolstoy eagerly directing the dragging of a -lake and taking all possible care that the carp should not escape. -The Countess, in a white dress, came running down the alley, with a -huge bundle of barn-door keys hanging at her waist. After cordially -greeting the visitor, she, notwithstanding her 'exceedingly interesting -condition,' leapt over the low railing between the alley and the pond. -It will however be better to quote Fet's own account of his visit: - - 'Sonya, tell Nesterka to fetch a sack from the barn, and let us - go back to the house,' said Tolstoy--who had already greeted me - warmly, without losing sight of the carp-capturing operations the - while. - - The Countess immediately detached a huge key from her belt and - gave it to a boy, who started at a run to fulfil the order. - - 'There,' remarked the Count, 'you have an example of our method. We - keep the keys ourselves; and all the estate business is carried on - by boys.' - - At the animated dinner table, the carp we had seen captured made - their appearance. We all seemed equally at ease and happy.... - - That evening was one truly 'filled with hope.' It was a sight to - see with what pride and bright hope Tatiana Alexandrovna, the - kindest of aunts, regarded the young people she so loved; and how, - turning to me, she said frankly, 'You see, with _mon cher Leon_ of - course things could not be otherwise.' - - As to the Countess, life to one who in her condition leapt over - fences, could not but be lit up with the brightest of hopes. The - Count himself, who had passed his whole life in an ardent search - for novelties, evidently at this period entered a world till then - unknown, in the mighty future of which he believed with all the - enthusiasm of a young artist. I myself, during that evening, was - carried away by the general tone of careless happiness, and did not - feel the stone of Sisyphus oppressing me. - -Soon after this visit, on 28th June 1863, a son, Sergius, was born. -During the first eleven years of marriage, the Countess bore her -husband eight children, and another five during the next fifteen years: -making in all, thirteen children in twenty-six years. - -But we must turn back a few months to mention the stories by Tolstoy -which appeared during this year. - -In the January number of the _Russian Messenger_, Katkof had published -_The Cossacks_, which Tolstoy had kept back to revise, and had only -delivered in December. - -In the February number of the same magazine appeared _Polikoushka_, the -story of a serf who, having lost some money belonging to his mistress, -hangs himself. - -These stories are referred to in the following letter from Tolstoy to -Fet, undated, but written in 1863: - - Both your letters were equally important, significant, and - agreeable to me, dear Afanasy Afanasyevitch. I am living in a - world so remote from literature and its critics, that on receiving - such a letter as yours, my first feeling is one of astonishment. - Whoever was it wrote _The Cossacks_ and _Polikoushka_? And what's - the use of talking about them? Paper endures anything, and editors - pay for and print anything. But that is merely a first impression; - afterwards one enters into the meaning of what you say, rummages - about in one's head, and finds in some corner of it, among old, - forgotten rubbish, something indefinite, labelled _Art_; and - pondering on what you say, agrees that you are right, and even - finds it pleasant to rummage about in that old rubbish, amid the - smell one once loved. One even feels a desire to write. Of course, - you are right. But then there are few readers of your sort. - _Polikoushka_ is the chatter of a man who 'wields a pen,' on the - first theme that comes to hand; but _The Cossacks_ has some matter - in it, though poor. I am now writing the story of a pied gelding, - which I expect to print in autumn. [It did not appear till 1888!] - But how can one write now? Invisible efforts--and even visible - ones--are now going on; and, moreover, I am again up to my ears in - farming. So is Sonya. We have no steward; we have assistants for - field-work and building; but she, single-handed, attends to the - office and the cash. I have the bees, the sheep, a new orchard, - and the distillery. It all progresses, little by little, though of - course badly compared with our ideal. - - What do you think of the Polish business? [the insurrection of - 1863, then breaking out]. It looks bad! Shall we--you and I and - Borisof--not have to take our swords down from their rusty nails?... - -The bees, which Tolstoy here places first among his out-door duties, -occupied much of his time, and he often spent hours studying the habits -of these interesting creatures. - -Tourgenef, writing to Fet, commented on _The Cossacks_ as follows: - - I read _The Cossacks_ and went into ecstasies over it; so did - Botkin. Only the personality of Olenin spoils the generally - splendid impression. To contrast civilisation with fresh, primeval - Nature, there was no need again to produce that dull, unhealthy - fellow always preoccupied with himself. Why does Tolstoy not get - rid of that nightmare? - -Several months later he wrote: - - After you left, I read Tolstoy's _Polikoushka_ and marvelled at the - strength of his huge talent. But he has used up too much material, - and it is a pity he drowned the son. It makes it too terrible. But - there are pages that are truly wonderful! It made a cold shudder - run down even my back, though you know my back has become thick and - coarse. He is a master, a master! - -Tolstoy was now fairly launched on the life he was destined to lead for -sixteen years: a quiet, country life, occupied with family joys and -cares. These years followed one another with so little change that the -story of a decade and a half can almost be compressed into a sentence. -Children came in quick succession, two great novels and an _ABC_ Book -were produced, a large orchard was planted with apple-trees, the -Yasnaya Polyana property was improved, and new estates were purchased -east of the Volga. - -During the year 1863 Tolstoy wrote two plays, which have never been -published. One, a farcical comedy called _The Nihilist_, was privately -performed at home with great success. The second, also a comedy, -written on a topic of the day, was called _The Infected Family_. Hoping -to have it staged, Tolstoy took it to Moscow early in 1864; but the -theatrical season, which in Russia ends at the commencement of Lent, -was already too far advanced; and he never subsequently appears to have -troubled himself to have it either published or acted. - -The Countess Tolstoy's brother, S. A. Behrs (who from 1866 when he -was a boy of eleven, till 1878, spent every summer with the Tolstoys) -in his book, _Recollections of Count Tolstoy_, gives much interesting -information about the life at Yasnaya. He mentions that it was a -proverb about the hard fate of penniless noblemen, that prompted -Tolstoy to take all possible care to provide for the future of his -children; and the passage in the letter quoted above, about the bees, -sheep, new orchard and distillery with which he was occupied, shows how -this care was applied. - -In his _Confession_, Tolstoy says of the years now under review: - - Returning from abroad I married. The new conditions of happy family - life completely diverted me from all search for the general meaning - of life. My whole life was centred at that time in my family, wife - and children, and in care to increase our means of livelihood. My - striving after self-perfection and progress, was now again replaced - by the effort simply to secure the best possible conditions for - myself and my family. - - So another fifteen years passed. - - In spite of the fact that I regarded authorship as of no - importance, I yet, during those fifteen years, continued to write. - I had already tasted the temptation of authorship: the temptation - of immense monetary rewards and applause for my insignificant work; - and I devoted myself to it as a means of improving my material - position, and of stifling in my soul all questions as to the - meaning of my own life, or of life in general. - -Again, writing in 1903 of this middle period of his life, Tolstoy says: - - Then came a third, an eighteen-year period which may be the least - interesting of all (from my marriage to my spiritual re-birth) and - which from a worldly point of view may be called moral: that is to - say, that during those eighteen years I lived a correct, honest, - family life, not indulging myself in any vices condemned by public - opinion, but with interests wholly limited to selfish cares for - my family, for the increase of our property, the acquisition of - literary success, and all kinds of pleasure. - -(In the one place he speaks of 'fifteen years,' and in the other of -'eighteen years'; but that is his way, and chronological exactitude is -not the important matter here.) - -After the Emancipation, in many parts of Russia the landlords had more -or less serious difficulty with the peasants, among whom stories were -rife to the effect that the Tsar intended to give them all the land, -but had been deceived by the officials into only giving half; and, for -a time, riots were not infrequent. There was no serious trouble of -this sort on Tolstoy's estate; but his sister (whom I met at Yasnaya -in 1902, long after her husband's death and when she, a nun, had been -allowed out of her convent to visit her brother, after his very serious -illness) told me that on one occasion the peasants refused to make the -hay; and to save it from being lost, Tolstoy, his wife, the members of -the family, and the masters from eleven neighbouring schools, all set -to work with a will, and by their own strenuous exertions saved the -crop before the weather changed. - -On settling down to married life, Tolstoy formed the plan of writing a -great novel, and the epoch he at first intended to deal with was that -of the Constitutional conspiracy which came to a head on the accession -of Nicholas I to the throne in December 1825. That quite premature -military plot was quickly snuffed out. So little were things ripe for -it, that many even of the soldiers who shouted for a 'Constitution' -(_Konstitutsia_) thought they were demanding allegiance to Nicholas's -elder brother Constantine, who having married a Polish lady of the -Roman Catholic faith had renounced his right to the throne. While -considering the plan of his work, Tolstoy found himself carried back -to the scenes amid which his characters had grown up: to the time -of the Napoleonic wars and the invasion of Russia by the French in -1812. Here was a splendid background for a novel, and putting aside -_The Decembrists_ he commenced _War and Peace_, a work conceived on a -gigantic scale, and that resulted in a splendid success. - - -1864 - -His attention, as we have already seen, was however not wholly absorbed -by literature, but was divided between that and the management of his -property. He had during his stay among the Kirghiz in the Province -of Samara, noticed how extremely cheap and how fertile was the land -in those parts. He therefore wished to purchase an estate there, and -visited the district in the autumn of 1864, probably with that end in -view. How long he stayed there I do not know, but from a letter he -wrote to Fet on 7th October, saying, 'We start for home to-day and do -not know how we shall make our way to happy Yasnaya,' we know when -he returned. In November he again wrote to Fet, and mentioned the -laborious preparations he was at that time making for _War and Peace_: - - I am in the dumps and am writing nothing, but work painfully. You - cannot imagine how hard I find the preliminary work of ploughing - deep the field in which I must sow. To consider and reconsider all - that may happen to all the future characters in the very large work - I am preparing, and to weigh millions of possible combinations - in order to select from among them a millionth part, is terribly - difficult. And that is what I am doing.... - -Late in that month he wrote again to Fet: - - This autumn I have written a good deal of my novel. _Ars longa, - vita brevis_ comes to my mind every day. If one could but make time - to accomplish a hundredth part of what one understands--but only - a thousandth part gets done! Nevertheless the consciousness that - _I can_ is what brings happiness to men of our sort. You know that - feeling, and I experience it with particular force this year. - -The year 1864 saw the publication of the first collected edition of -Tolstoy's works, and though they have been already mentioned, it may -be as well to give a complete list of those twenty 'trials of the pen' -which preceded the appearance of _War and Peace_, and had already -sufficed to place Tolstoy in the front rank of Russian writers. The -following are their titles, with the years in which they were first -published. They suffice to fill four very substantial volumes. - - 1852 _Childhood._ - - 1853 _The Raid: A Volunteer's Story._ - - 1854 _Boyhood._ - - 1855 _Memoirs of a Billiard-Marker._ - - 1855 *_Sevastopol in December._ - - " *_Sevastopol in May._ - - " *_The Wood-Felling._ - - 1856 *_Sevastopol in August._ - - " _The Snow Storm._ - - " *_Two Hussars._ - - " *_Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment._ - - " _A Squire's Morning._ - - 1857 _Youth._ - - " _Lucerne._ - - 1858 _Albert._ - - 1859 _Three Deaths._ - - " _Family Happiness._ - - 1862 Educational articles in _Yasnaya Polyana_. - - 1863 _The Cossacks._ - - " _Polikoushka._ - -As I am sometimes asked where satisfactory versions of these stories -can be found, I may say that I think the best version of _Childhood_, -_Boyhood_ and _Youth_[49] is Miss Isabel Hapgood's, and I make no -apology for quoting a letter Tolstoy wrote me on 23rd December 1901, -concerning the volume, _Sevastopol_,[50] translated by my wife and -myself, and containing the six stories marked * in the above list. I do -this with less hesitation, because his letter illustrates the cordial -way in which he encourages those who do any work he can approve of, in -connection with his own activity: - - [49] Published by Walter Scott, Ltd., London, and by T. Y. - Crowell and Co., New York. - - [50] Published by Messrs. A. Constable and Co., London, and - Funk and Wagnalls Co., New York. - - I think I already wrote you how unusually the volume pleases me. - All in it is excellent: the edition and the footnotes, and chiefly - the translation, and yet more the conscientiousness with which - all this has been done. I happened to open it at _Two Hussars_ and - read on to the end just as if it were something new that had been - written in English. - -One day in October Tolstoy went out for a ride on his favourite horse, -an English thoroughbred named Mashka. His borzoi dogs Lubka and Krylat -accompanied him. After he had ridden some way, a hare suddenly started -up and the dogs rushed after it. Tolstoy had not come out with the -idea of hunting, but on seeing the dogs chasing the hare he could -not restrain himself, and galloped after them, uttering the hunting -cry, 'Atou!' The weather was bad, the ground slippery, and the horse -stumbled at a narrow ravine and fell, dislocating and breaking its -rider's arm. The horse ran away, and Tolstoy, who was quite alone and -several miles from home, fainted. When he came to, he managed to drag -himself a distance of more than half a mile to the highroad, where he -lay in great pain. Some peasant carts passed by, but at first he could -not attract any one's attention. When at last he was noticed, in order -not to alarm his wife, he asked to be taken to the hut of an old wife, -Akoulina, famed as a bone-setter. In spite of all that she and her son -Ivan could do--soaping, pulling, twisting and bandaging the arm--they -could not set it, and Tolstoy continued to suffer the greatest pain. - -The Countess, who had meanwhile heard of the accident, reached the hut -late at night. She at once arranged to have her husband taken home, and -sent to Toula for a doctor. The latter arrived about 3 A.M., and after -administering chloroform, succeeded, with the aid of two labourers who -were called in to assist, in setting the arm. On coming to, Tolstoy's -profound disbelief in the efficiency of doctors, prompted him to send -for another surgeon. After a consultation the two physicians decided -that everything had been done properly, and that Tolstoy must lie up -for six weeks to allow the arm to recover. When that time was up, -Tolstoy asked for his gun and fired it off to test his arm. No sooner -had he done so than he again felt great pain. He thereupon wrote to his -father-in-law, Dr. Behrs, and on his advice went to Moscow to consult -the specialists. These differed among themselves, but after a week's -hesitation a fresh operation was decided upon, and was carried out by -two competent surgeons. This time it was quite successful, and in due -course the patient completely recovered the use of his arm. - -Meanwhile the Countess (now nursing her second child, a daughter named -Tatiana, who had been born on 4th October) remained at Yasnaya, where -her eldest child, Sergius, was taken dangerously ill with smallpox and -diarrhoea. This was the first occasion on which Tolstoy and his wife -had been separated. - -While in Moscow he concluded an arrangement with Katkof by which he -received Rs. 500 (L75) per printed sheet of sixteen pages for the -serial rights in _War and Peace_, which appeared in the _Russian -Messenger_. This was just ten times the amount which, when he wrote his -first stories, Nekrasof had mentioned as the highest rate paid to any -one for the magazine rights in a story. - - -1865 - -On 23rd January 1865, when Tolstoy had got over his accident, he wrote -Fet another of those jocular letters which sometimes contain more of -the real truth than will bear saying seriously: - - Shall I tell you something surprising about myself? When the horse - threw me and broke my arm, and when I came to after fainting, - I said to myself: 'I am an author.' And I am an author, but a - solitary, on-the-quiet kind of author.... In a few days the first - part of 'The Year 1805' [so the first part of _War and Peace_ was - originally called] will appear. Please write me your opinion of it - in detail. I value your opinion and that of a man whom I dislike - the more, the more I grow up--Tourgenef. He will understand. All - I have printed hitherto I consider but a trial of my pen; what I - am now printing, though it pleases me better than my former work, - still seems weak--as an Introduction must be. But what follows - will be--tremendous!!!... Write what is said about it in the - different places you know, and especially how it goes with the - general public. No doubt it will pass unnoticed. I expect and wish - it to do so; if only they don't abuse me, for abuse upsets one.... - - I am glad you like my wife; though I love her less than my novel, - still, you know, she is my wife. Be sure you come to visit us; for - if you and Marya Petrovna do not stay here on your return from - Moscow it will really, without a joke, be too stupid! - -In May 1865 one sees by a letter of Tolstoy's to Fet that one of the -children had been ill and he himself had been in bed for three days and -barely escaped a fever. His wife's younger sister, Tanya, she of the -contralto voice who (with some admixture of his wife) served Tolstoy -as model for Natasha in _War and Peace_, was spending the summer at -Yasnaya, as she had done each year since her sister's marriage. The -Countess Mary and her children were also there. The children, he says, -were well, and out all day in the open air. He adds: - - I continue to write little by little, and am content with my work. - The woodcock still attract me, and every evening I shoot _at them_, - that is, generally, past them. My farming goes on well, that is to - say, it does not disturb me much--which is all I demand of it.... - -In reply to a suggestion from Fet, he goes on to say that he will -not write more about the Yasno-Polyana school, but hopes some day to -express the conclusions to which his three years' ardent passion for -that work had brought him. Then comes a reference to the state of -agricultural affairs after the Emancipation, and a passing allusion to -the question of famine--a subject destined to make great demands on -Tolstoy's attention in later years: - - Our affairs as agriculturists are now like those of a share-holder - whose shares have lost value and are unsaleable on 'Change. The - case is a bad one. Personally I only ask that it should not - demand of me so much attention and participation as to deprive me - of my tranquillity. Latterly I have been content with my private - affairs; but the general trend--with the impending misery of - famine--torments me more and more every day. It is so strange, and - even good and terrible. We have rosy radishes on our table, and - yellow butter, and well-baked, soft bread on a clean tablecloth; - the garden is green, and our young ladies in muslin dresses are - glad it is hot and shady; while _there_ that evil hunger-devil is - already at work, covering the fields with goose-weed, chafing the - hard heels of the peasants and their wives, and cracking the hoofs - of the cattle. Our weather, the corn, and the meadows, are really - terrible. How are they with you? - -The letter closes with advice to Fet to transfer his chief attention -from the land to literature, and a statement that Tolstoy himself has -done so, and is finding life less difficult. - -When Tolstoy went out hunting hares and foxes with borzoi dogs, Miss -Tatiana Behrs (the Tanya alluded to above) used often to accompany him. - -Between this lady and Count Sergius Tolstoy (Leo's elder brother) an -attachment had grown up which caused great distress to them both, for, -besides being twenty-two years older than the lady, Sergius was living -with, and had a family by, the gipsy mentioned in a previous chapter, -though he was not legally married. His affection for his family -prevented his yielding completely to his love for Tanya and asking her -to be his wife. The Behrs were quite willing that he should do so, and -the young lady would have accepted him, and was much pained by the -vacillation that resulted from the battle between his love for her and -his affection for his family. Ultimately he resolved to be faithful to -the union he had formed, and, in order to legitimise his children, went -through the form of marriage with their mother in 1867. Almost at the -same time, Tanya, having recovered from her disappointment, married a -Mr. Kouzminsky. - -Here again one gets a slight glimpse of the experience of life which -has led Tolstoy, contrary to the opinion general among the Russian -'intelligents,' to advocate faithfulness at all costs to the woman with -whom one has once formed a union. - -A knowledge of Tanya's story adds to the interest with which, in -Tolstoy's great novel, one reads of Natasha Rostof's troubles and -ultimate happiness. - -Towards the end of May, Tolstoy visited the estate of Nikolsky (which -after the death of his brother Nicholas had become his), and had the -house there repaired. In June the whole family moved to Nikolsky, -where they lived very quietly; Tolstoy continuing to write _War and -Peace_. His friend D. A. Dyakof's estate was only ten miles away, and -Tolstoy saw much of him at this time, besides having him at other -times as a frequent visitor at Yasnaya. Dyakof was his chief adviser -in agricultural matters, as well as in his efforts to improve the -stock of his cattle, pigs and poultry. Almost the only other visitors -at Nikolsky were the Fets; and the poet records meeting there the -Countess's 'charming sister,' Tanya, and experiencing violent antipathy -for the sour koumys, about which Tolstoy was enthusiastic, and a large -tub of which stood near the front door. - -While living at Nikolsky Tolstoy was invited for a fortnight by a -neighbouring landlord, Kireyevsky, to a grand hunt, in which the -huntsmen wore special costumes, and luxurious dinners were served in -the woods. What interested Tolstoy most in all this was not the hunt, -but the opportunity it afforded him of studying types of the old and -new aristocracy. - -At this period of his life one hears of his playing the guitar and -singing passionate love-songs. - -During the autumn of 1865 Tolstoy, accompanied by his eleven-year-old -brother-in-law, visited the battlefield of Borodino. They left Moscow -in Dr. Behrs' carriage, with post-horses. When the time came for them -to have something to eat, they found that the lunch basket had been -left behind, and they had only a small basket of grapes. Thereupon -Tolstoy remarked to his companion, 'I am sorry, not that we have left -the basket of food behind, but because your father will be upset -and will be angry with his man.' The journey took only one day, and -they stayed at the monastery erected in memory of those who fell in -the great fight. For two days Tolstoy investigated the scene of the -conflict which he was about to describe in his novel, and he then drew -the plan of the fight which appears in that work. Even in 1865 there -were but few survivors of the campaign of 1812 to be found in the -neighbourhood. - -Tolstoy used at this time to spend whole days in the Roumyantsef Museum -in Moscow, studying books and manuscripts relating to the times of -Alexander I, and especially to the reformatory and Masonic movements -which then sprang up in Russia, but were subsequently suppressed on -political grounds. - -S. A. Behrs tells us that Tolstoy - - was always fond of children, and liked to have them about him. He - easily won their confidence, and seemed to have found the key to - their hearts. He appeared to have no difficulty in suiting himself - to a strange child, and with a single question set it completely at - ease, so that it began at once to chat away with perfect freedom. - Independently of this, he could divine a child's thought with - the skill of a trained educationalist. I remember his children - sometimes running up to him, and telling him they had a great - secret; and when they persisted in refusing to divulge it, he would - quietly whisper in their ears what it was. 'Ah, what a papa ours - is! How did he find it out?' they would cry, in astonishment. - -He also says: - - Gifted by nature with rare tact and delicacy, he is extremely - gentle in his bearing and conduct to others. I never heard him - scold a servant. Yet they all had the greatest respect for him, - were fond of him, and seemed even to fear him. Nor, with all his - zeal for sport, have I ever seen him whip a dog or beat his horse. - -A servant who lived with him more than twenty years has said: 'Living -in the Count's house from my childhood, I loved Leo Nikolayevitch as -though he were my father'; and in another place he remarks: - - The Count had a stern appearance, but treated the servants - excellently, and made things easy for all strangers whom he met. He - has a very good heart, and when he was cross with me for anything, - I, knowing his character, used at once to leave the room, and when - next he called me, it was as though nothing unpleasant had happened. - -Speaking of Tolstoy's later years the same servant says: - - Leo Nikolayevitch has now become quite a different man. From 1865 - to 1870 he was active in managing the estate, and was fond of cows, - bred sheep, looked after the property, and, in a word, attended - to everything. At that time he was hot-tempered and impulsive. He - would order the trap to be brought when he wanted to go hunting. - His man, Alexis, would bring him his hunting-boots, and the Count - would shout at him, 'Why have you not dried them? You are not - worth your salt!' Alexis, knowing the Count's character, would - take the boots away, and bring them back almost directly. 'There! - now they're all right,' the Count would say, and would brighten up - instantly. - -His love of the country and his dislike of towns sprang partly from his -keen appreciation of the charm and loveliness of Nature. He saw fresh -beauty every day, and often exclaimed: 'What wealth God has! He gives -each day something to distinguish it from all the rest.' - -Sportsman and agriculturist himself, he maintains that sportsmen and -agriculturists alone know Nature. To quote Behrs again: - - No bad weather was allowed to interfere with his daily walk. He - could put up with loss of appetite, from which he occasionally - suffered, but he could never go a day without a sharp walk in the - open air. In general, he was fond of active movement, riding, - gymnastics, but particularly walking. If his literary work chanced - to go badly, or if he wished to throw off the effects of any - unpleasantness, a long walk was his sovereign remedy. He could - walk the whole day without fatigue; and we have frequently ridden - together for ten or twelve hours. In his study he kept a pair of - dumb-bells, and sometimes had gymnastic apparatus erected there. - -All luxury was distasteful to him; and much that ordinary people regard -as common comforts, seemed to him harmful indulgences, bad for the -souls and bodies of men. Nothing could well be more simple than the -arrangement of his house at Yasnaya, substantial and solidly built as -it was, with its double windows, and the Dutch stoves so necessary to -warm a Russian house. - -He was not at all particular about what he ate, but objected to a -soft bed or spring mattress, and at one time he used to sleep on a -leather-covered sofa. - -He dressed very simply, and when at home never wore starched shirts or -tailor-made clothes, but adapted to his own requirements the ordinary -Russian blouse, having it made of woollen stuff for winter, and of -linen for summer. His out-door winter dress was also an adaptation of -the sheepskin _shouba_ and peasants' _caftan_, made of the plainest -material; and these afforded such good protection from the weather that -they were often borrowed by members of the household as well as by -visitors. - -During the writing of _War and Peace_ Tolstoy generally enjoyed good -spirits, and on days when his work had gone well, he would gleefully -announce that he had left 'a bit of my life in the inkstand.' One of -his chief recreations was to go out hare-hunting with borzoi dogs, and -this he often did in company with a neighbouring landed proprietor, -Bibikof. - -From October 1865 he ceased to keep his Diary, and did not renew it -during the period covered by this volume. - - -1866 - -On Twelfth Night a grand masquerade was held at Yasnaya, and the -festivities were kept up till past two in the morning, and were -followed by a troika drive next day. - -That same January the family moved to Moscow, where they hired a -six-roomed apartment for Rs. 155 a month (say about L23); and there -they remained for six weeks while the second part of _War and Peace_ -was being printed for the _Russian Messenger_. - -Among the friends Tolstoy saw most of at this time were Aksakof and -Prince Obolensky. He also attended the Moscow drawing school, and he -tried his hand at sculpture--modelling a bust of his wife. It does not -appear, however, that he continued this occupation long. - -In May 1866 a second son, Ilya, was born, and an English nurse -introduced into the family. - -During this summer an infantry regiment was stationed near Yasnaya, -in which a young Sub-Lieutenant named Kolokoltsef was serving, whom -the Countess Tolstoy had known in Moscow. He visited the Tolstoys, -and introduced to them his Colonel Unosha, and his fellow-officer -Ensign Stasulevitch (brother of the Liberal editor of the monthly -magazine, _The Messenger of Europe_), who had been degraded to the -ranks because, while he was on prison-duty, a prisoner had escaped. -Ensign Stasulevitch was middle-aged, but he had only recently regained -his rank as officer and joined the regiment commanded by his former -comrade, Colonel Unosha. - -One day Stasulevitch and Kolokoltsef called on Tolstoy and told him -that a soldier, serving as secretary in one of the companies of the -regiment, had struck his Company Commander, and was to be tried by -court-martial. They asked Tolstoy to undertake the man's defence, and -he, having always regarded capital punishment with abhorrence, readily -agreed to do so. - -The circumstances of the case were these. The soldier, Shibounin, was -a man of very limited intelligence, whose chief occupation was writing -out reports. When he had any money he spent it on solitary drinking. -The Captain in command of his company, a Pole, apparently disliked him, -and frequently found fault with his reports and made him rewrite them. -This treatment Shibounin bitterly resented; and one day, when he had -been drinking, on being told to rewrite a document he had prepared, -he insulted and struck the Captain. By law the penalty for a private -who strikes his officer is death. Tolstoy nevertheless hoped to save -the man's life, and obtained permission to plead on his behalf. The -trial took place on 6th June, and the members of the court-martial were -Colonel Unosha, Stasulevitch, and Kolokoltsef; the latter being merely -a light-headed youngster. - -Tolstoy, when telling me of the incident, remarked that of the four -occasions on which he has spoken in public, this was the time that -he did so with most assurance and satisfaction to himself. He had -written out his speech; the main point of which was that Shibounin was -not responsible for his actions, being abnormal, and having from the -combined effect of intemperance and the monotony of his occupation, -become idiotic and obsessed by an idea that his Company Commander did -not understand report writing, and unfairly rejected work faultlessly -done. The law decrees a mitigation of sentence for crimes committed by -those who are not in the full possession of their senses; and as this -contradicts the paragraph allotting death as the sole punishment for a -soldier who strikes his officer, Tolstoy argued that mercy should be -extended to the prisoner. - -The Court adjourned to consider its verdict, and (as Tolstoy -subsequently learnt) Stasulevitch was in favour of mercy. The Colonel, -who was more of a military machine than a human being, demanded the -death sentence, and the decision therefore rested with the boyish -Sub-Lieutenant, who (submitting to his Colonel) voted for death. - -Tolstoy wished to appeal (through his aunt, the Countess A. A. Tolstoy) -to Alexander II for a pardon; but with characteristic disregard of -details, he omitted to mention the name of the regiment in which the -affair had occurred, and this enabled the Minister of War, Milutin, -to delay the presentation of the petition until Shibounin had been -shot; which occurred on 9th August. Tolstoy's appeal never, therefore, -reached the Emperor. - -In contrast with the action of the Colonel and the Minister, was -that of the peasants of the district, who flocked in crowds to see -the prisoner; bringing him milk, eggs, home-made linen and all the -gifts their poverty could afford. When the day of execution arrived, -Shibounin went quite impassively to his death; to all appearance -incapable of understanding what was happening. The people thronged -around the post to which he was to be tied--the women weeping and -some of them fainting. They fetched a priest to perform Masses at -his grave, and paid for the service to be repeated all day. At night -contributions of copper money, linen, and candles such as are burnt in -Russian churches, were laid upon his grave. Next day the Masses were -recommenced, and were continued until the local police forbade any more -religious services, and levelled the grave that the people might not -continue to visit it. - -The knowledge of such a difference between the spirit of the governors -and the governed, helps us once again to understand Tolstoy's -ultimate conviction that Government and the administration of law are -essentially evil things, always tending to make the world worse and not -better. In later life we may be sure he would not have been content to -base his plea for mercy on merely legal grounds. - -From time to time he continued to be troubled with ill-health; for -instance, in July 1866 he writes that he is confined to the house with -pains in the stomach which make it impossible for him to turn quickly. - -In November--contrary to what he had often said in the past and was to -return to in later life--he expresses his sense of the importance of -authorship. Fet, criticising something in _War and Peace_, had quoted -the words, _irritabilis poetarum gens_, and Tolstoy, replying 'Not I,' -welcomes the criticism, begs for more, and goes on to say: - - What have you been doing? Not on the Zemstvo [County Council] - or in farming (all that is compulsory activity such as we do - elementally and with as little will of our own as the ants who make - an ant-hill; in that sphere there is nothing good or bad), but - what are you doing in thought, with the mainspring of your being, - which alone has been, and is, and will endure in the world? Is that - spring still alive? Does it wish to manifest itself? How does it - express its wish? Or has it forgotten how to express itself? That - is the chief thing. - -By the autumn of this year the railway southwards from Moscow to Koursk -had been constructed as far as Toula, making it easier to get from -Yasnaya to Moscow, and to the rest of Europe. Yet Tolstoy comparatively -seldom felt tempted to leave his much-loved, tranquil, busy, country -life, in which alone he found himself able to work with the maximum of -efficiency. - -About this time he undertook the planting of a birch wood, which has -since grown up and become valuable. - - -1867 - -During the summer of 1867 Tolstoy, despite the dislike and distrust -of doctors--which he shares with Rousseau, and which he has again and -again expressed in his works--was induced by the state of his health -and by his wife's persuasion, to consult the most famous Moscow doctor -of the time, Professor Zaharin, on whose advice he drank mineral water -during several weeks. - -Writing to Fet he says: - - If I wrote to you, dear friend, every time I think of you, you - would receive two letters a day from me. But one cannot get - everything said, and sometimes one is lazy and sometimes too busy, - as is the case at present. I have recently returned from Moscow - and have begun a strict cure under the direction of Zaharin; and - most important of all, I am printing my novel at Ris's, and have - to prepare and send off MSS. and proofs every day under threat of - a fine and of delayed publication. That is both pleasant and also - hard, as you know. - -He goes on to criticise Tourgenef's novel, _Dym_ (_Smoke_), which had -appeared that year: - - About _Smoke_ I meant to write long ago, and, of course, just what - you have now written. That is why we love one another--because we - think alike with the 'wisdom of the heart' as you call it. (Thank - you very much for that letter also: 'the wisdom of the heart' and - 'the wisdom of the mind' explain much to me.) About _Smoke_, I - think that the strength of poetry lies in love; and the direction - of that strength depends on character. Without strength of love - there is no poetry; but strength falsely directed--the result of - the poet's having an unpleasant, weak character--creates dislike. - In _Smoke_ there is hardly any love of anything, and very little - poetry. There is only love of light and playful adultery, and - therefore the poetry of that novel is repulsive. That, as you - see, is just what you write about it. Only I fear to express - this opinion because I cannot look soberly at the author, whose - personality I do not like; but I fancy my impression is the general - one. One more writer played out! - -In November 1867 we find the whole family again established for a while -in a lodging in Moscow, where they seem to have remained for a large -part of the winter. - -Here Fet visited Tolstoy and announced to him that he had decided to -arrange a Literary Evening for the benefit of the famine-stricken -peasants of Mtsensk, the district in which Fet's estate lay. Tolstoy -met the suggestion with irony, maintaining that Fet had invented the -famine; and in reply to a request that he would ensure the success of -the evening by reading something, flatly refused to do so, declaring -that he never had and never could do such a thing as read in public. -Still, he lent Fet the chapter of _War and Peace_ containing the -wonderful description of the retreat of the Russian army from Smolensk -in fearful drought. This as yet existed only in proof, not having been -published. (It forms Chapter V of Part X of Volume II in Mrs. Constance -Garnett's version: the best English rendering of that novel.) Read -by Prince Kougoushef, the poet and dramatist, it evoked thunders of -applause. - - -1868 - -On 12th April 1868 Tourgenef, writing to Fet, said: - - I have just finished the fourth volume of _War and Peace_. - There are things in it that are unbearable, and things that are - wonderful; and the wonderful things (they predominate) are so - magnificently good that we have never had anything better written - by anybody; and it is doubtful whether anything as good has been - written. - -About the same time V. P. Botkin wrote from Petersburg: 'Tolstoy's -novel is having a really remarkable success; every one here is reading -it, and they not merely read it but become enthusiastic about it.' - - -1869 - -The Epilogue was not completed till late in 1869. On 30th August -Tolstoy writes: 'Part VI [_i.e._ Part II of the Epilogue] which I -expected to have finished a month ago, is not ready'; and then in the -next sentence, he goes into ecstasies over Schopenhauer: - - Do you know what this summer has been for me? An unceasing ecstasy - over Schopenhauer, and a series of mental enjoyments such as I - never experienced before. I have bought all his works, and have - read and am reading them (as well as Kant's). And assuredly no - student in his course has learnt so much and discovered so much - as I have during this summer. I do not know whether I shall ever - change my opinion, but at present I am confident that Schopenhauer - is the greatest genius among men. You said he had written something - or other on philosophic subjects. What do you mean by 'something - or other'? It is the whole world in an extraordinarily vivid and - beautiful reflection. I have begun translating him. Won't you - take up that work? We would publish it together. After reading - him I cannot conceive how his name can remain unknown. The only - explanation is the one he so often repeats, that except idiots - there is scarcely any one else in the world.... - -He goes on to say that he was starting next day for the Government of -Penza to look at an estate he meant to buy 'in those out-of-the-way -parts.' The servant who accompanied Tolstoy has told how they travelled -third class from Moscow to Nizhni, and how Tolstoy chatted with his -fellow-travellers, so that many of them took him 'for a common man.' -The idea of buying the estate in Penza was ultimately abandoned. - -He had by then completed the last part of _War and Peace_, which was -to appear complete in book form in November. Two volumes had been -published in 1866, three more in 1868, and the sixth was not ready till -this year, 1869. (In subsequent editions the book was rearranged, first -into five and then into four volumes.) - -Though he had so completely conquered the laziness of which he accused -himself in early manhood as to have become a regular, indefatigable and -extremely hard worker, yet after the completion of so gigantic a task -he felt the need of recuperation and in summer wrote to Fet: 'It is now -my deadest time: I neither write nor think, but feel happily stupid,' -and he adds that he goes out shooting woodcock and has killed eight at -an outing. - -That at this time he already felt something of the strong repugnance -he so strenuously expressed in later years for luxury and profuse -expenditure, is indicated by his comment on the death of his -acquaintance, the author V. P. Botkin, which took place in 1869. The -latter, a member of a wealthy family of tea-merchants, having lived -with economy till he knew his death was approaching, then hired a -splendid lodging in Petersburg, fitted it up with all possible comfort -and luxury, engaged a _chef_ from the kitchen of the Tsarevitch, paid -daily attention to the dinner _menu_, and engaged famous musicians to -perform quartets at his lodgings. To the magnificent feasts he gave -every day (at which, owing to the state of his health, he himself -participated chiefly as a spectator) he gathered a select circle of -those friends whose conversation interested him. He told his brother -that these arrangements for the close of his life gave him the keenest -pleasure, and that 'birds of Paradise are singing in my soul.' On 4th -October a quartet and a banquet had been arranged as usual, and many -guests were expected--but V. P. Botkin lay dead in his bed. - -Tolstoy, hearing of this, wrote to Fet: - - I was terribly shocked by the character of V. P. Botkin's death. If - what is told of it is true, it is terrible. How is it that among - his friends not one was found to give to that supreme moment of - life the character suitable to it? - -Before _War and Peace_ was finished, the Countess had borne four -children, the fourth being a boy, born on 20th May 1869, and christened -Leo--nursing them all herself, as she did her subsequent children, -with two exceptions mentioned later on. Her willingness to do her duty -in this respect was exceptional among women of her class, for the -employment of wet-nurses was extremely common in Russia. - -Up to the age of ten, the children were taught Russian and music by -the Countess, and she even found time to make their clothes herself -till they reached that age. Besides managing the household, her brother -tells us that during the composition of _War and Peace_ she found time -to copy it out no less than seven times, a statement not to be taken -literally: for greatly as Tolstoy believes in the proverb that 'Gold -is got by sifting,' and indefatigably as he revises his work, not all -the chapters of _War and Peace_ will have been altered that number of -times. With Tolstoy the children learnt arithmetic; and they learnt to -read French out of illustrated volumes of Jules Verne. - -In all that concerned the education of the children, his wife at this -time willingly constituted herself the executant of her husband's -decisions, which were based largely on J. J. Rousseau's _Emile_, and -were relaxed only in so far as the Countess was unable to carry them -out, and as Tolstoy found himself too much occupied with other affairs -to attempt to do so. Later on there was less accord between the parents. - -With the first child they tried to do without a nurse, but the attempt -was unsuccessful, and subsequently Russian nurses and foreign _bonnes_ -were employed. - -Toys were not allowed in the nursery, but much liberty was given to -the children. No violent or severe punishments were inflicted on them, -and none but their parents might award the punishments that were -administered. They aimed at gaining their children's confidence by -timely petting and kindly treatment. - -If one of the children told a falsehood, this was treated as a serious -matter, and the punishment usually consisted in the parents treating -the child coldly. As soon, however, as it showed that it was really -sorry, the punishment ceased; but a child was never persuaded to say it -was sorry or to promise not to repeat its fault. - -All the grown-up people in the house were expected to remember that -children are apt to copy and imitate all that they see and hear; and -the children were not kept away from the adults, except at lesson time. -Consequently when eight o'clock came and the children went to bed, -Tolstoy would often remark: 'Now, we are freer!' - -Partly that they might learn English, partly because Tolstoy believed -that education was freer in England than elsewhere, young English -governesses were engaged to take charge of his children from the age -of three to nine. He was extremely fortunate in his first choice, for -the young lady remained with the Tolstoys for six years, and after her -marriage continued in most friendly relations with the whole family. - -He aimed at acquainting the children with Nature, and developing their -love of it, of animals, and of insects. He liked to let them realise -their impotence and their complete dependence on their elders, but he -always did this with kindly consideration. - -The children were not allowed to order the servants about, but had to -_ask_ them for anything they wanted; and that a good example might be -set, every one in the house was expected to do the same. This was the -more important, because the peasant servants in Russia, even after the -Emancipation, were scarcely regarded as belonging to the same race -of human beings as their masters, and a famous Russian author could -say without any exaggeration, 'The balcony was rotten. Only servants -went there; the family did not go there.' But, to avoid giving a wrong -impression, I must here make a reservation. Just because there was no -idea of the two classes overlapping, and because so wide a gap existed -between them that they dressed quite differently (the peasants having -their own costume and style of garments) very cordial and sincere good -feeling often grew up between master and man, or between proprietress -and servant, and real human interest, such as is shown in Tolstoy's -descriptions of the servants in _Childhood_, and in his other stories. -It was, and is, not at all unusual for Russian servants to intervene -in the conversation of the family or visitors; and the whole relation -between employers and employed was quite different to what it is in -England, where on Sundays the maid might be mistaken for her mistress, -except that she often looks more attractive than the latter. - -The plan adopted in the Yasno-Polyana school, where no child was -obliged to learn anything it did not care to learn, had to be abandoned -in the family; but some scope was allowed to the children to reject -what they had no capacity for, and they were never punished for -neglecting to prepare lessons, though they were rewarded when they -learnt well. - -To illustrate Tolstoy's way of developing the minds of those about him, -Behrs tells of his own case when, as a youth, he stayed at Yasnaya: - - Regardless of my youth at the time, I remember that Tolstoy - discussed quite seriously with me all the scientific and - philosophic questions it came into my head to put to him. He always - answered simply and clearly, and never hesitated to admit the fact - if he himself did not understand this or that matter. Often my talk - with him took the form of a dispute, on which I embarked in spite - of my consciousness of his immense superiority. - -The children were always eager to go for walks with their father, to -answer his call to practise Swedish gymnastics, and to be on his side -in any game he taught them. In winter they skated a good deal; but -clearing the snow off the pond under his leadership was an even greater -pleasure than the skating itself. - -Before breakfast he would go for a walk with his brother-in-law, or -they would ride down to bathe in the river that flows by one side of -the estate. At morning coffee the whole family assembled, and it was -generally a very merry meal, Tolstoy being up to all sorts of jokes, -till he rose with the words, 'One must get to work,' and went off -to his study, taking with him a tumbler full of tea. While at work -in his room not even his wife was allowed to disturb him; though at -one time his second child and eldest daughter, Tatiana, while still -quite a little girl, was privileged to break this rule. The rare -days (generally in summer) when he relaxed, were very welcome to the -children, for their father's presence always brought life and animation -with it. Generally after dinner, before resuming work, he would read a -book not directly connected with the task he had in hand. It was often -an English novel; and we hear of his reading Anthony Trollope with -approval, Mrs. Henry Wood, who, he says, made a great impression on -him, and Miss Braddon. His dislike of George Sand remained unshaken, -and he considered _Consuelo_ to be a mixture of the pretentious and the -spurious. Goethe (especially _Faust_) he admired; while Moliere's plays -and Hugo's _Les Miserables_ appealed to him very strongly indeed. In -the evening he was fond of playing duets with his sister. He used to -find it hard to keep up with her in playing long pieces with which he -was not quite familiar, and when in difficulties he would say something -to make her laugh, and cause her to play slower. If he did not succeed -by means of this ruse, he would sometimes stop and solemnly take off -one of his boots, as though that must infallibly help him out of the -difficulty; and he would then recommence, with the remark, 'Now, it -will go all right!' - -During the early years of his married life few visitors came to -Yasnaya, except the numerous members of the Tolstoy-Behrs families, -who stayed there chiefly in summer. The poet A. A. Fet, D. A. Dyakof, -whom he had known from boyhood and had described in _Youth_, N. N. -Strahof, the philosopher and critic, for whose judgment he had great -respect and whom he frequently consulted throughout his literary -career, and Prince L. D. Ourousof, a cousin of the Prince Ourousof he -had known during the siege of Sevastopol, seem to have been almost the -only friends who visited him in the years first following his marriage; -and this suited Tolstoy very well, for to entertain many visitors -would have seriously interrupted the absorbing work in which he was -continually engaged. - -Fet has so often been mentioned in this volume that it is time to -devote a few lines to describing a man who has come in for much abuse -on account of the anti-Emancipationist sympathies expressed in some of -his writings. Like Tolstoy, he had grown up with no idea that it is -incumbent on men of education and capacity to organise the society of -which they are members, or by political action to remedy such abuses -as inevitably arise among human beings who do not keep the task of -systematic social organisation constantly in view. Of the impression -Fet's political opinions made on the Liberals, one may judge by a -remark Tourgenef addressed to him in a letter written in 1874: 'Twenty -years ago, at the height of Nicholas I's _regime_, you dumbfounded me -by announcing your opinion that the mind of man could devise nothing -superior to the position of the Russian aristocracy of that day, nor -anything nobler or more admirable.' The Liberals saw in Fet a political -reactionary--and so he was; but any one who reads his _Recollections_ -may also see how large a measure of personal worth can be combined with -political indifferentism--a quality many Russians of his generation -were brought up to regard as a virtue. In private life he was a really -worthy man, and Tolstoy once very truly remarked to him: - - There are some people whose talk is far above their actual - morality; but there are also some whose talk is below that - level. You are one who is so afraid of his sermon being above - his practice, that you intentionally talk far below your actual - practice. - -While still a young cavalry officer Fet began to write poetry, for -which he had real talent; and after leaving the army he continued -his literary career as an Art-for-Art's-sake-ist, producing verse -translations of Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Juvenal, Catullus, Tibullus, -Propertius, and Persius, besides original works of his own in prose and -verse, and (after Tolstoy's suggestion, already recorded) translations -from the German of Schopenhauer's _The World as Will and Idea_, and -Goethe's _Faust_. - -In his dislike, or perhaps one should say ignorance, of politics, -commerce, and that great industrial revolution of the Western world -that has been the most conspicuous achievement of the last one hundred -and fifty years, as well as in his love of pure art, chiefly literary, -he had much in common with Tolstoy. They could talk with profound -sympathy of all that related to art, and they were alike in their love -of country life and in their relation to agriculture, as well as in the -fact that the great problems of life centred for them round their own -personality rather than around the community to which they belonged. -Patriotic by instinct, it was no part of their philosophy to be so; -at least they never dreamed of that newer patriotism which seeks to -manage the production and distribution of the national wealth so that -every member of the community may have an opportunity to live in decent -conditions. They had therefore at this period much in common; and -one sees by Tolstoy's letters how greatly they enjoyed each other's -society, though a time was coming when their friendship would wane. - -Tolstoy had a strong dislike of leaving home even for a few days. When -it was absolutely necessary for him to go to Moscow he would grumble -at his hard fate, and Behrs, when he accompanied him, noticed how town -life depressed Tolstoy, making him fidgety and even irritable. When -returning from a journey, or a hunting expedition, he would express his -anxiety by exclaiming, 'If only all's well at home!' After he had been -away from Yasnaya, Tolstoy never failed to give the home party full and -amusing accounts of what he had seen and heard. - -A distinguishing feature of Tolstoy, already remarked upon, but so -strongly marked that it can hardly be insisted on too much, was the -ardent and whole-hearted way in which he threw himself into whatever -occupation he took up. On this point Prince D. D. Obolensky says: -'I have seen Count L. N. Tolstoy in all phases of his creative -activity.... Whatever his occupation, he did it with conviction, firmly -believing in the value of what he was doing, and always fully absorbed -by it. I remember him as a man of the world, and have met him at balls, -and I remember a remark he once made, "See what poetry there is in -women's ball-dresses, what elegance, how much thought, how much charm -even in the flowers pinned to the dresses!" I remember him as an ardent -sportsman, as a beekeeper, as a gardener; I remember his enthusiasm for -farming, for tree planting, fruit culture, horse breeding, and much -else.' - -A housekeeper who was with him for nine years, said of him: - - The Count himself looked after everything, and demanded extreme - cleanliness in the cowhouse and in the pig-styes and in the - sheep-cot. In particular he delighted in his pigs, of which he had - as many as 300, paired off in separate styes.... There the Count - would not allow the least dirt. Every day I and my assistants had - to wash them all, and wipe the floor and walls of the styes; then - the Count, on passing through the piggery of a morning, would be - very pleased, and would remark aloud: 'What management!... What - good management!' But God have mercy on us if he noticed the - least dirt! That at once made him shout out angrily.... The Count - was very hasty, and a doctor who used to come to Yasnaya said to - him more than once in my presence: 'You must not get so angry, - Count, it is very bad for your health....' 'I can't help it,' he - would reply. 'I want to restrain myself, but can't do it. That, - it seems, is the way I am made!'... His farming gave the Count a - good revenue in those days. Besides the pigs and their litters, he - had 80 cows, 500 good sheep, and very many fowls. We used to make - excellent butter, which we sold in Moscow at 60 copecks [about 19 - pence] a lb. - -His management of property was characteristically personal. He never -took shares in any joint-stock company, but he bought land, bred cattle -and horses of good quality, planted a large apple-orchard, as well -as a quantity of other trees, and in general he acquired property he -could manage himself, or (for he entrusted the management of his Samara -estates to stewards) over which he had full control. He has always -been more alive to the dangers and evils of commercial companies and -large engineering and industrial undertakings, than to the good they -have achieved by irrigating arid lands, uniting distant realms, and -lightening man's toil by making iron bear some of his burdens for him. - -Tolstoy furnishes an example of the well-known fact that men of -artistic temperament are often untidy. Though he acknowledges the -advantages of neatness in general, he often remarked that it is a -quality most frequently found in shallow natures. He himself simply -could not, and therefore did not try to, keep his things in order. When -he undressed he let his clothes or boots drop where he stood; and if he -happened to be moving from place to place, his garments remained strewn -about the room, and sometimes on the floor. Behrs remarks. - - I noticed that to pack his things for a journey cost him great - effort, and when I accompanied him I used very willingly to do - it for him, and thereby pleased him very much. I remember that - once, for some reason, I did not at all wish to pack for him. He - noticed this, and with characteristic delicacy did not ask me to, - but put his things into his portmanteau himself; and I can assert - positively that no one else, were they to try, could have got them - into such fearful disorder as they were in, in that portmanteau. - -It was a peculiarity of Tolstoy's that he not only liked to have his -own sleep out without being disturbed, but that he never could or would -wake any one from sleep, and in cases of absolute necessity would ask -some one else to relieve him of that disagreeable task. - -Behrs recounts that when they sat up late, the man-servant sometimes -fell asleep in his chair and omitted to serve up the cold supper. -Tolstoy would never allow him to be disturbed on these occasions, but -would himself go to the pantry to fetch the supper, and would do this -stealthily, and with the greatest caution, so that it became a kind -of amusing game. He would get quite cross with Behrs if the latter -accidentally let the plates clatter or made any other noise. - -Many years later, alluding in my presence to this peculiarity of his, -Tolstoy remarked, 'While a man is asleep he is at any rate not sinning.' - - -1870 - -On 4th February 1870 Tolstoy wrote to Fet: - - I received your letter, dear Afanasy Afanasyevitch, on 1st - February, but even had I received it somewhat sooner I could not - have come. You write, 'I am _alone, alone_!' And when I read it - I thought, What a lucky fellow--_alone_! I have a wife, three - children, and a fourth at the breast, two old aunts, a nurse, - and two housemaids. And they are all ill together: fever, high - temperature, weakness, headaches, and coughs. In that state your - letter found me. They are now beginning to get better, but out of - ten people, I and my old aunt alone turn up at the dinner table. - And since yesterday I myself am ill with my chest and side. There - is much, very much, I want to tell you about. I have been reading a - lot of Shakespear, Goethe, Poushkin, Gogol, and Moliere, and about - all of them there is much I want to say to you. I do not take in - a single magazine or newspaper this year, and I consider it very - useful not to. - -S. A. Behrs tells us that Tolstoy 'never read newspapers, and -considered them useless, and when they contain false news, even -harmful. In his humorous way he would sometimes parody a newspaper -style when speaking of domestic affairs.' His attitude towards -journalists and critics (except his friend Strahof) was rather -scornful, and he was indignant when any one classed them even -with third-rate authors. He considered that it is a misuse of the -printing-press to publish so much that is unnecessary, uninteresting, -and worst of all, inartistic. He seldom read criticisms of his own -work. 'His feeling towards periodicals in general had its source in his -intense dislike of the exploitation of works of art. He would smile -contemptuously at hearing it suggested that a real artist produces his -works for the sake of money.' - -Having said this much about his characteristics and peculiarities, -let us note the extent to which his life and mode of thought at this -time approximated to his later teaching. His humane relations towards -the peasants, his condemnation of many of the manifestations of -modern civilisation, his simplicity in household matters and dress, -his exemplary family life, humane educational ideals, deep love of -sincerity and of industry (including physical labour), his ardent -search for truth and for self-improvement, his gradually increasing -accessibility to and regard for others, his undoubted love of family -and his hatred of violence--indicate that the ideals of his later -life were not very far from him, even before the commencement of the -conversion told of in his _Confession_. - -On 17th February Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - I hoped to visit you the night of the 14th, but could not do so. - As I wrote you, we were all ill,--I last. I went out yesterday for - the first time. What stopped me was pain in the eyes, which is - increased by wind and sleeplessness. I now, to my great regret, - have to postpone my visit to you till Lent. I must go to Moscow to - take my aunt to my sister's, and to see an oculist about my eyes. - - It is a pity that one can only get to your place after passing - a sleepless, cigarette-smoky, stuffy, railway-carriage, - conversational night. You want to read me a story of cavalry - life.... And I don't want to read you anything, because I am not - writing anything; but I very much want to talk about Shakespear and - Goethe and the drama in general. This whole winter I am occupied - only with the drama; and it happens to me, as it usually happens - to people who till they are forty have not thought of a certain - subject or formed any conception of it, and then suddenly with - forty-year-old clearness turn their attention to this new untasted - subject--it seems to them that they discern in it much that is new. - All winter I have enjoyed myself lying down, drowsing, playing - bezique, going on snowshoes, skating, and most of all lying in bed - (ill) while characters from a drama or comedy have performed for - me. And they perform very well. It is about that I want to talk to - you. In that, as in everything, you are a classic, and understand - the essence of the matter very deeply. I should like also to read - Sophocles and Euripides. - -There we see Tolstoy, as always, ardently devoting his attention to -some great subject--which happens, this time, to be dramatic art. So -keen is he, that his mind is full of it whatever else he may be doing; -and so vivid is his imagination that the characters of the plays -perform for him whether he is standing up or lying down. How real a -grip he obtained of the subject with very little theatre-going, was -shown seventeen years later, when he wrote one of the most powerful -dramas ever produced, and followed it up by an excellent comedy: both -pieces being so good that they are constantly revived in Russian -theatres, besides having achieved success in other countries. - -At the point we have reached there was no break in the manner of -Tolstoy's life. He continued to live quietly at Yasnaya, and to concern -himself chiefly with literature, and also with the management of his -estates and the welfare of his family. Children continued to be born -in rapid succession, and with the increasing family his means also -increased. But we have come to the middle of that tranquil period -of sixteen years which succeeded his marriage, and here, while--as -one would say of another man--he was indefatigably studying the -drama; or while--as one is inclined to say of him--he was resting and -recuperating before undertaking his next great work, it is convenient -to close this chapter. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER IX - -Birukof. - -Fet. - -Behrs. - -Bitovt. - -_Yasnaya Polyana_, P. A. Sergeyenko: _Niva_, No. 34, 1908. - -_L. N. Tolstoy_; _Monografiya Andreevitcha_: Petersburg, 1905. - -For much information in this chapter as well as elsewhere I am indebted -to Tolstoy himself, to the Countess S. A. Tolstoy, to his sister, and -particularly to his daughter, Mary Lvovna, Princess Obolensky. - -Information concerning the execution of the soldier is given in _Pravo_ -for 1903. - -Prince D. D. Obolensky's _Vospominaniya_ appeared in _Roussky Arhiv_, -1896. - -See also, _Graf L. N. Tolstoy_, _Vospominaniya S. P. Arbouzova_: -Moscow, 1908. - -Arbouzof was in Tolstoy's service twenty-two years. He gives his master -an excellent character; and though very inaccurate, his naive chatter -is readable, and throws light on Tolstoy's character. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - NEARING THE CRISIS - -Fet's poem. Franco-Prussian war. Studies Greek. Effect on health. -Railways. Koumys cure in Samara. Mouhamet-Dzhan. An expedition. -'Milk-loving Scythians.' Buys estate. Molokans. Tourgenef's interest. -_ABC_ Book. House enlarged. On future life. Re-starts school. -Preparation of _ABC_ Book. Astronomy. _A Prisoner in the Caucasus._ -_God Sees the Truth._ Ceremonial rites. Strahof and the _ABC_ Book. -Samara. Bull kills keeper. Teachers' Congress at Yasnaya. A letter in -verse. Peter the Great. A suicide. _Anna Karenina._ Mouhamed Shah. -Samara famine. Kramskoy's portrait. Death of son, Peter. Addresses -Moscow Society of Literacy. A practical demonstration. Test schools. -_The Fatherland Journal: On the Education of the People._ Mihaylovsky. -'A University in bark shoes.' Toula Zemstvo Education Committee. -Tourgenef translates Tolstoy. Birth of a son. Death of Aunt Tatiana. -_ABC_ Book approved. Wife's health. _Anna Karenina._ Death of a son. -Tourgenef on Tolstoy's writings. Samara. Primitive agriculture. Fete -and horse races. Bashkir life. Education of his children. Exercises -and playfulness. Croquet. 'Numidian cavalry.' Birth and death of a -daughter. Aunt P. I. Ushkof dies. Letters to Fet. Nirvana and Sansara. -_Anna Karenina._ 'Summer condition.' Horse-breeding. Loss of Gouneba. -Music. P. I. Tschaikovsky. At the Conservatoire. Folk-songs. Beethoven. -Tolstoy on art. Approach of war. Rupture with Katkof. The Evangelicals. -An epitaph. Professor Boutlerof. The Deity. Optin Monastery. A -folk-story teller. Turkish prisoners. Son, Andrew, born. Ill-health. -_The Decembrists._ 'Martha is troubled.' Reconciliation with Tourgenef. -Samara. Tourgenef at Yasnaya. Their relations still not cordial. -Pilgrims. N. Tchaykovsky. Mihaylovsky's forecast. V. I. Alexeyef. - - -1870 - -As he grew older Tolstoy's love of outdoor exercise tended more towards -activity serving a useful productive purpose, and one finds a hint of -this in the following letter to Fet, dated 11th May 1870: - - I received your letter, dear friend, when returning perspiring home - from work, with axe and spade, and when therefore I was a thousand - miles from things artistic in general, and from our business in - particular. On opening the letter I first read the poem and felt a - sensation in my nose. On coming home to my wife I tried to read it - to her, but could not do so for tears of emotion. The poem is one - of those rare ones in which not a word could be added or subtracted - or altered: it is a live thing, and admirable.... - - I have just served for a week as juryman, and found it very - interesting and instructive. - -The next letter refers to the fact that Tolstoy did his best literary -work in winter, when he often spent almost the whole day, and sometimes -part of the night, at it; that was the time when his 'sap flowed': - - _2 Oct. 1870._ - - It is long since we met, and in my winter condition, which I am now - entering, I am specially glad to see you. I have been shooting; but - the sap is beginning to flow, and I am collecting it as it drips. - Whether it be good or bad sap, it is pleasant to let it flow in - these long wonderful autumn evenings.... A grief has befallen me; - the mare is ill. The veterinary says her wind has been broken, but - I cannot have broken it. - -The Franco-Prussian war, which commenced at this time, interested -Tolstoy keenly. He had come into contact with the French, in the -Crimea, before the Napoleonic autocracy had long held sway; and -he had visited France in 1857 and 1860, before the effect of that -putrescent influence had become fully apparent. Neither the idea of -German national unity, nor Bismarck's and Moltke's ideal of efficient -organisation and discipline, were things that much appealed to Tolstoy. -So it happened that not only were all his sympathies on the side of -the French, but he also felt assured of their triumph. His friend -Prince Ourousof used to write letters to Katkof's _Moscow Gazette_ -demonstrating by analogies with games of chess, that the French were -continually drawing the German armies into more and more desperate -positions in which they must soon be quite destroyed. When, on the -contrary, the French were utterly defeated, it came to him as a -complete surprise; which all tends to illustrate the fact that men of -great intellectual power, living isolated on their country estates, may -at times go very considerably wrong in their estimate of the trend of -some of the forces that influence the world. - -On 12 February 1871 a daughter was born, who was christened Mary. In -later life she, of all his children, was the one most deeply influenced -by her father's teaching. The Countess, who, as already mentioned, -made a point of nursing her own children, owing to the neglect of an -attendant, became unable to do so in this instance before the child was -many weeks old, and a wet-nurse was engaged; but as soon as the mother -saw her child at a stranger's breast she burst into a flood of jealous -tears, dismissed the nurse on the spot, and ordered the child to be fed -with a bottle. Tolstoy, when he heard what had happened, declared that -his wife had only shown the jealous affection natural to a true mother. - - -1870-71 - -During that winter Tolstoy devoted himself strenuously to the study -of Greek. On hearing of this, Fet felt so sure that Tolstoy would not -succeed, that he announced his readiness to devote his own skin for -parchment for Tolstoy's diploma of proficiency when the latter should -have qualified himself to receive it. Accordingly, in December, Tolstoy -wrote him as follows: - - I received your letter a week ago, but have not answered because - from morning to night I am learning Greek. I am writing nothing, - only learning; and to judge by information reaching me through - Borisof, your skin (to be used as parchment for my diploma in - Greek) is in some danger. Improbable and astounding as it may seem, - I have read Xenophon, and can now read him at sight. For Homer, - a dictionary and some effort is still necessary. I eagerly await - a chance of showing this new trick to some one. But how glad I - am that God sent this folly upon me! In the first place I enjoy - it; and secondly, I have become convinced that of all that human - language has produced truly beautiful and simply beautiful, I knew - nothing (like all the others who know but do not understand); and - thirdly, because I have ceased to write, and never more will write, - wordy rubbish. I am guilty of having done so; but by God I won't - do it any more! Explain to me, for Heaven's sake, why no one knows - Esop's fables, or even delightful Xenophon, not to mention Plato - and Homer, whom I still have before me? In so far as I can as yet - judge, our translations, made on German models, only spoil Homer. - To use a banal but involuntary comparison: they are like boiled - and distilled water, while he is like water fresh from the spring, - striking the teeth with its sun-lit sparkle: even its specks only - making it seem still clearer and fresher.... You may triumph: - without a knowledge of Greek, there is no education. But what kind - of knowledge? How is it to be got? What is the use of it? To this I - have replies clear as daylight. - - -1871 - -S. A. Behrs tells us, 'I know for a fact that he learnt the language -and read Herodotus in three months.' While in Moscow that winter, he -visited Leontief, then Professor of Greek at the Katkof Lyceum, to -talk about Greek literature. Leontief did not wish to believe in the -possibility of his having learnt Greek so rapidly, and proposed that -they should read something at sight. It happened that they differed as -to the meaning of three passages; but after a little discussion the -Professor admitted that the Count's interpretations were right. - -Tolstoy felt the charm of the literary art of the ancient world, and -so keen was his power of entering into the minds of those of whom he -read, and so different to his own was the Greek outlook upon life, that -the contradiction produced in him a feeling of melancholy and apathy -profound enough to affect his health. - -What clash of ideals it was that produced this result we may guess -when we consider how from his earliest years he had been attracted by -the Christian ideal of meekness, humility, and self-sacrifice, and how -little this accords with the outlook on life of the ancient Greeks. In -a book written nearly forty years later, Tolstoy tells us that 'If, as -was the case among the Greeks, religion places the meaning of life in -earthly happiness, in beauty and in strength, then art successfully -transmitting the joy and energy of life, would be considered good -art' [good, that is, in its subject-matter of feeling conveyed] but -art transmitting the opposite feelings would be bad art.[51] Again in -the same work he says that the esthetic theory he is combating, seeks -to make it appear 'that the very best that can be done by the art of -nations after 1900 years of Christian teaching, is to choose as the -ideal of life the ideal held by a small, semi-savage, slave-holding -people who lived 2000 years ago, imitated the nude human body extremely -well, and erected buildings pleasant to look at.'[52] - - [51] _What is Art?_ p. 54: Constable, London, and Funk and - Wagnalls Co., New York. - - [52] _Ibid._, p. 65. - -To wean him from his absorption in Greek literature, his wife at first -urged him to take up some fresh literary work; and finally, becoming -seriously alarmed for his health, induced him to go eastward for a -koumys cure. He wrote to Fet at this time: - - _10 June 1871._ - - DEAR FRIEND,--I have long not written to you, nor been to see you, - because I was, and still am, ill. I don't myself know what is the - matter with me, but it seems like something bad or good, according - to the name we give to our exit. Loss of strength, and a feeling - that one needs nothing and wants nothing but quiet, which one has - not got. My wife is sending me to Samara or Saratof for two months - for a koumys cure. I leave for Moscow to-day, and shall there learn - where I am to go to. - -In Moscow it was decided that he should go to the part of Samara he had -visited before. - -Railways have always been an affliction to Tolstoy. Civilisation -has forced them on him without his wish, and, as he argued in his -educational articles, to the detriment of the peasant population. -Personally, he complained of disagreeable sensations he experienced -when travelling by rail, and compared these discomforts with the -pleasure of riding on horseback. He objected both to the officious -politeness of the conductors and to the way in which the passengers -suspiciously shun one another. (This latter complaint is not one a -Westerner would bring against Russians, for they appear to us the most -friendly and sociable of fellow-travellers.) He used to insist on his -wife always travelling first class. He himself went either first or -third, but seldom second. To travel third is a more serious matter in -Russia than in England; and he used purposely to choose a car in which -there were peasants, and talked to all whom he met. - -On this outward journey he went third class, by rail to Nizhni -Novgorod and by steamer down the Volga to the town of Samara. On the -boat he took the opportunity to study the manners and customs of his -fellow-passengers, natives of the Volga district, and displayed his -remarkable gift of making friends with people of all kinds. Before he -had been two days on the boat he was on the friendliest terms with -everybody, including the sailors, among whom he slept each night in the -fore part of the vessel. Even when he met reserved or surly characters, -it was not long before he drew them out of their shells, and set them -chatting at their ease. One secret of this success was the unaffected -interest he took in learning about other people's lives and affairs. - -From Samara Tolstoy went eastward for eighty miles on horseback, -following the banks of the river Karalyk till he reached the village -of that name. He had lived there in 1862, and was welcomed as an -old acquaintance and friend by the Bashkirs, who always spoke of -him as 'The Count.' The reader will remember that at the University -Tolstoy had studied oriental languages. His knowledge of Tartar no -doubt increased his popularity with the Bashkirs. He had with him a -man-servant, and his brother-in-law, Stepan Andreyevitch Behrs, then a -lad of about sixteen, who subsequently in his _Recollections_ gave many -particulars about this outing. They lived, not in the 'winter village' -of Karalyk, but about one-and-a-half miles away, in a _kotchevka_ on -the open steppe. A _kotchevka_ is a conical tent, made of a collapsible -wooden frame covered with large sheets of felt. It has a small painted -door, and is usually carpeted with soft feather grass. The one in -which Tolstoy's party lived, was a very large one which he hired from -the Mullah (priest). It had formerly been used as a mosque, but had -the practical disadvantage of not being rain-proof. There were four -_kotchevki_ in the neighbourhood, one of which was occupied by the -Mullah. - -On first arriving at Karalyk, Tolstoy for some days felt very depressed -and unwell. He complained that he lacked capacity to feel either mental -or physical pleasure, and looked at everything 'as though he were a -corpse': a characteristic usually most foreign to him, and which in -other people always evoked his dislike. It was, however, not long -before he recovered his spirits and energy. - -There were other visitors at Karalyk, who had also come to benefit -by a koumys cure. They neither associated with the Bashkir nomads, -nor adopted their customs; but Tolstoy was extremely fond of the -Bashkirs, associated much with them, and strictly followed their diet: -avoiding all vegetable foods and restricting himself to meat and animal -products. Dinner every day consisted chiefly of mutton eaten with the -fingers out of wooden bowls. - -Some of the Russian visitors lived in one of the _kotchevki_, but -most of them lodged in the 'winter village.' Tolstoy soon made friends -with them all, and thanks to his genial influence the whole place grew -gay and lively. A professor of Greek from a Seminary for the education -of priests might be seen trying a skipping-rope match with him; a -procureur's assistant discussed legal and other questions, and there -was a young Samara farmer who became his devoted follower. - -Among those who specially interested Tolstoy was Mouhamet-Dzhan, the -Bashkir Elder, whom the Russian peasants called Michael Ivanovitch. -This man was very nimble and active, full of humour, fond of a joke, -and a very strong player at draughts. - -Accompanied by Behrs and two of their new acquaintances, and taking -a supply of guns and presents, Tolstoy went for a four days' drive -through the neighbouring villages. The party had splendid duck-shooting -by the lakes they passed; and they were entertained and treated to -koumys by the Bashkirs at the _kotchevkas_ in which they rested. As -opportunity presented itself, they made suitable acknowledgment for -their entertainment by giving presents to their hosts. One serious -drawback to the hospitality they enjoyed was the fact that their -hosts insisted on feeding them with mutton and fat with their own -hands, without the intermediacy of fork or spoon, and it was out of -the question to insult them by refusing such well-meant though quite -undesired attentions. - -On one occasion Tolstoy happened to admire a horse that had separated -from its herd, and remarked to Behrs, 'See what a beautiful specimen -of milking mare that is.' When, an hour later, they were taking leave, -their host tied this animal to their conveyance, thus presenting it to -his visitor. Of course, on the return journey, Tolstoy had to make an -equivalent present in return. - -Another incident of this stay in the Government of Samara, was a visit -to the Petrovsky Fair, which is held once a year at Bouzoulouk, a -small town some fifty miles from Karalyk. Here Russians, Bashkirs, -Oural Cossacks, and Kirghiz mingled with one another; and Tolstoy was -soon on a friendly footing with them all. He would chat and laugh with -them even when they were drunk; but when one in that condition took -it into his head to embrace the Count, Tolstoy's look was so stern -and impressive that the fellow drew back his hands and let them fall, -saying, 'No, never mind, it's all right!' - -The following letter of 18th July 1871, to Fet, relates to Tolstoy's -experience of the nomadic Bashkirs: - - Thank you for your letter, dear friend! It seems that my wife - gave a false alarm when she packed me off for a koumys cure and - persuaded me that I was ill. At any rate now, after four weeks, I - seem to have quite recovered. And as is proper when one is taking - a koumys cure, I am drunk and sweat from morn to night, and find - pleasure in it. It is very good here, and were it not for family - home-sickness, I should be quite happy. Were I to begin describing, - I should fill a hundred pages with this country and my own - occupations. I am reading Herodotus, who describes in detail and - with great accuracy these same galactophagous [gluttonous-for-milk] - Scythians among whom I am living. - - I began this letter yesterday, and wrote that I was well. To-day my - side aches again. I do not myself know in how far I am ill, but it - is bad that I am obliged to think--and cannot help thinking--about - my side and my chest. This is the third day that the heat has been - terrible. In the _kibitka_ [tent] it is as hot as on the shelf of a - Russian bath, but I like it. The country here is beautiful--in its - age just emerging from virginity, in its richness, its health, and - especially in its simplicity and its unperverted population. Here - as everywhere I am looking round for an estate to buy. This affords - me an occupation, and is the best excuse for getting to know the - real condition of the district. - -After a six weeks' stay Tolstoy returned to Yasnaya, travelling first -class on the return journey. - -His search for an estate had been successful, and after persuading his -wife that the investment was a sound one, he purchased two thousand -acres on his return to Moscow. - -The change of scene, or some other influence, weakened Tolstoy's -absorption in Greek literature; and a huge dictionary he had taken with -him, was used by his brother-in-law to press a collection of local -wildflowers. - -During his wanderings on the steppe, Tolstoy met many Molokans, members -of a kind of Bible-Christian peasant sect. They base their faith on the -Bible, reject the Greek Church with its traditions, priesthood, dogmas, -ritual, sacraments, and icons. The name Molokan, or Milk-Drinker, -probably arose from the fact that, not observing the Russian fasts, -these people do not scruple to drink milk in Lent. They are said to be -distinguished by an honesty and industry not found among their Orthodox -neighbours; and they abstain from all intoxicants. - -It interested Tolstoy to mix with these people, and he liked to discuss -their beliefs, especially with a venerable leader of theirs, named -Aggey. It so happened that in the neighbouring village of Patrovka -there was a very worthy young Russian priest, who was eager to convert -the Molokans, and occasionally arranged debates with them on religious -subjects. Tolstoy sometimes attended these debates: his object being -not so much to convert the Molokans, as to understand the points on -which they differed from the Russo-Greek Church. He also took an -interest in the Mohammedan faith of his Bashkir friends, and on his -return to Yasnaya read through a French translation of the Koran. - -A few years later Tolstoy associated much with the representatives of -various sects and faiths, being then profoundly interested in their -beliefs; but at this time, his interest in such matters was only -beginning to make itself felt. - -A letter of Tourgenef's written at this period, indicates how little he -allowed his quarrel with Tolstoy the man, to warp his appreciation of -Tolstoy the artist. Writing to Fet on 2nd July 1871, he says: - - Your letter again grieves me--I refer to what you write about - L. Tolstoy. I have great fears on his account, for two of his - brothers died of consumption, and I am very glad he is taking a - koumys cure, in the reality and efficacy of which I have faith. L. - Tolstoy is the only hope of our orphaned literature; he cannot and - must not vanish from the face of the earth as prematurely as his - predecessors: Poushkin, Lermontof and Gogol. - -Again in November, writing from Paris, he says: - - I am very glad that Tolstoy's health is now satisfactory and that - he is at work. Whatever he does will be good, if only he does not - himself mutilate his own handiwork. Philosophy, which he hates, has - revenged herself on him in a strange way: she has infected him, - and the enemy of rationalising has plunged head over ears into - rationalisation! But perhaps all _that_ has fallen away from him by - now, and left only the pure and powerful artist. - -On returning home from Samara improved in health, Tolstoy turned his -thoughts once more to matters educational: especially to the crying -want of good primers for those beginning to read. We have seen how -strongly, in 1862, he had felt the need of well-written books simple -enough for beginners and peasant readers, and how he resented the -monopolisation of knowledge by the cultured classes entrenched behind -barriers of pedantry. We have seen, too, how under the influence of -Homer he swore he would no more write 'wordy rubbish'; and the time had -now come for this feeling to bear fruit. The task to which he devoted -his powers at their zenith, was the production of an _ABC_ Book for -beginners, which was to be as simple, sincere and perfect in form and -in subject-matter as possible. - -We know from the writings of the American Consul, Mr. Eugene Schuyler, -who visited Tolstoy in 1868, and at his request obtained for him a -collection of American school primers, that Tolstoy was even then -meditating a work of the kind to which he now devoted himself ardently -for a whole year. By September he was hard at work, the Countess as -usual acting as his amanuensis. - -Of her we hear that in an impulsive, kind-hearted way, she often -rendered assistance to the poor, not merely among the Yasnaya Polyana -peasants, but to others from a distance as well; and that the -neighbouring peasants thought well of her. - -The increase in the Tolstoy family was met this year by a considerable -enlargement of their domicile. By way of a house-warming to celebrate -the completion of the building, a masquerade was arranged at Christmas, -at which Tolstoy evoked great enthusiasm by appearing as a goat. - -About this time, at the age of sixteen, Behrs and a school friend of -his became sorely troubled as to the state of their souls, and thought -of entering a monastery. This is what he tells us of Tolstoy's relation -to the matter: - - His attitude towards my inclination was a most cautious one. I - often went to him with my doubts and questions, but he always - managed to avoid expressing his opinion, knowing how very great - an influence it would have with me. He left it to me to work out - my own convictions. Once, however, he spoke out with sufficient - plainness. We were riding past the village church where his parents - lie buried. Two horses were grazing in the churchyard. We had been - talking over the only subject that then interested me. - - 'How can a man live in peace,' I asked, 'so long as he has not - solved the question of a future life?' - - 'You see those two horses grazing there,' he answered; 'are they - not laying up for a future life?' - - 'But I am speaking of our spiritual, not our earthly life.' - - 'Indeed? Well, about that, I neither know nor can know anything.' - - -1872 - -Immediately after New Year he re-started his school; and the children -(who often numbered thirty to thirty-five) met, not as formerly in -another building, but in the hall of the Tolstoys' enlarged house. In -the mornings the Countess taught her own children, and in the afternoon -she, her husband, and even seven-year-old Tanya and eight-year-old -Sergius, taught the peasant children, who came only then, but yet made -satisfactory progress, being stimulated by the personal interest the -Tolstoys took in them, by the pedagogic genius of the Count, and by a -perception that education is a rare and valuable luxury, which seldom -comes within the reach of Russian peasants. - -In the _ABC_ Book Tolstoy gives several autobiographical stories of how -he learned to ride, and of his dogs Milton and Boulka. Easy as these -are, they are admirably written, and combine brevity and simplicity -with sincerity; though their sincerity lies not in telling the facts -just as they occurred, but in the truth of the feeling conveyed to the -reader. Besides these and other stories, popular historical sketches, -and a number of translations and adaptations from _Esop's Fables_ and -from Indian, Hebrew and Arabic sources, the work contains some popular -ballads or folk-stories in verse. To get these poems as perfect as -possible, he studied and collated all the versions of them he could -collect. - -The section on Arithmetic gave him an immense amount of work, for he -would not content himself with the usual explanations of the various -operations, but devised explanations of his own. - -The book contains some elementary natural science, and for the -preparation of this, Tolstoy, besides examining all sorts of -text-books, consulted specialists on the various subjects, and himself -carefully performed most of the experiments he described. - -To select the readings in the Church-Slavonic language, he perused the -monkish chronicles and the Lives of the Saints. - -Intending to include some readings on astronomy, he took up that study -himself, and became so interested in it that he sometimes sat up all -night examining the stars. - -When the news spread that Tolstoy was writing stories for his _ABC_ -Book, the magazine editors besieged him with demands, and the first -bits of the book to see the light were _A Prisoner in the Caucasus_, -which appeared in one of the monthlies in February, and _God Sees the -Truth_, which came out in another monthly in March. - -Owing to some mismanagement, Tolstoy received nothing for the -periodical rights of either of these stories, which in _What is Art?_ -he names as the best of all his works. They (as well as _The Bear -Hunt_, also from the _ABC_ Book) are given in English in _Twenty-three -Tales_, previously referred to. In rendering them, I did my best to -retain the brief simplicity of the originals; but where Russian customs -were alluded to, some of that simplicity was inevitably lost. - -With what pleasure Tolstoy looks back to this part of his life's work, -was indicated by a remark he made to me in 1902. Speaking of the -popularity of _A Prisoner in the Caucasus_ for public readings to the -peasants, he added with evident satisfaction, that when _A Prisoner in -the Caucasus_ is now mentioned, it is always taken for granted that it -is his little story, and not Poushkin's famous poem of the same name, -that is referred to. - -Since their first appearance, these two stories have sold by hundreds -of thousands in separate editions at three to ten copecks (about a -penny or twopence) each, besides appearing in the _Readers_ and among -Tolstoy's collected works. - -In the following letter to Fet we get a vivid glimpse of the thoughts -on life's deepest problems, which were before long to fill Tolstoy's -mind completely. - - _30 Jan. 1872._ - - It is some days since I received your kind but sad letter, and not - till to-day do I settle down to answer it. - - It is a sad letter, for you write that Tutchef is dying, and that - there is a rumour that Tourgenef is dead; and about yourself you - say the machine is wearing out and you want quietly to think of - Nirvana. Please let me know quickly whether this is a false alarm. - I hope it is, and that, in the absence of Marya Petrovna, you have - taken slight symptoms for a return of your terrible illness. - - In Nirvana there is nothing to laugh at; still less is there - cause for anger. We all (I, at least) feel that it is much more - interesting than life; but I agree that however much I may - think about it, I can think of nothing else than that Nirvana - is nothingness. I only stand up for one thing: religious - reverence--awe of that Nirvana. - - There is, at any rate, nothing more important than it. - - What do I mean by religious reverence? I mean this: I lately - went to see my brother, and a child of his had died and was - being buried. The priests were there, and a small pink coffin, - and everything as it should be. My brother and I involuntarily - confessed to one another that we felt something like repulsion - towards ceremonial rites. But afterwards I thought, 'Well, but what - should my brother do to remove the putrefying body of the child - from the house? How is one to finish the matter decently?' There is - no better way (at least, I could devise none) than to do it with - a requiem and incense. How is it to be when we grow weak and die? - Is nature to take her course, are we to ... and nothing else? That - would not be well. One wishes fully to express the gravity and - importance, the solemnity and religious awe of that occurrence, the - most important in every man's life. And I also can devise nothing - more seemly for people of all ages and all degrees of development, - than a religious observance. For me at least those Slavonic words - evoke quite the same metaphysical ecstasy as one experiences when - one thinks of Nirvana. Religion is wonderful, in that she has for - so many ages rendered to so many millions of people these same - services--the greatest anything human can render in this matter. - With such a task, how can she be logical? Yes--there is something - in her. Only to you do I allow myself to write such letters; but - I wished to write, and I feel sad, especially after your letter. - Please write soon about your health.--Your - - LEO TOLSTOY. - - I am terribly dispirited. The work I have begun is fearfully hard, - there is no end to the preparatory study necessary. The plan of the - work is ever increasing, and my strength, I feel, grows less and - less. One day I am well, and three days I am ill. - -The work here referred to as 'fearfully hard' was a study of the reign -of Peter the Great, in preparation for a novel treating of that period. - -On 20th February he again wrote to Fet: - - I may not correspond with my friends for years at a time, but when - my friend is in trouble, it is terribly shameful and painful not - to know of it.... Now, being in Moscow, I wished to call on the - Botkins to hear about you, but I fell ill myself, took to my bed, - and it was all I could do to get home. Now I am better. At home all - is well; but you will not recognise our house: we have been using - the new extension all winter. Another novelty is that I have again - started a school. My wife and children and I all teach and are all - contented. I have finished my _ABC_ Book and am printing it.... - -The next letter shows that his hope that he had finished the _ABC_ Book -was premature: - - _16 March 1872._ - - How I wish to see you; but I cannot come, I am still ill.... My - _ABC_ Book gives me no peace for any other occupation. The printing - advances on the feet of a tortoise, and the deuce knows when it - will be finished, and I am still adding and omitting and altering. - What will come of it I know not; but I have put my whole soul into - it. - -In May 1872 the Countess gave birth to another boy, who was christened -Peter. - -The Moscow firm who were printing the book for Tolstoy were not able to -give him satisfaction. Not only was the printing a matter of difficulty -owing to the variety of type required for a school-book of this kind, -but Tolstoy, in accord with his invariable practice, revised the work -time after time while it was going through the press. At last, in May, -he wrote to his trusty friend and admirer, N. Strahof, saying that -after four months' labour the printing was 'not only not finished, but -had not even begun,' and begging Strahof to have the book printed in -Petersburg, and to take on himself for ample payment the whole task of -revising the proofs. After some correspondence matters were arranged, -though Strahof declined to accept any payment for the help he rendered. - -Tolstoy explained to his friend that he wanted to make a profit on the -book if possible. As a rule, all Tolstoy's later teaching seems to grow -out of his experience of life; but it would be hard for any one to work -more conscientiously than Tolstoy laboured over this book, and yet in -later life he speaks as though any admixture of mercenary motives is -sure to be fatal to good literary work. We here seem, therefore, to -come upon an exception to that rule. - -Strahof's assistance enabled Tolstoy (though he continued to give -most careful instructions with regard to the treatment of the various -sections of the book) to get a much needed change; and after having -as usual worked during the winter and spring up to the very limit of -his strength, he went for a short visit to his Samara estate, where -he arranged about building, and about breaking up the virgin soil. A -peasant from Yasnaya village was appointed steward of the new estate, -and was instructed to see to the building of the house there. Being -far away from home Tolstoy was anxious about his _ABC_ Book; so he -cut short his stay, and returned to Yasnaya before the end of July. -There he learned that a fine young bull of his had gored its keeper -to death. The unpleasantness of such an occurrence and of the legal -investigation consequent on the man's death, was greatly increased by -the fact that the Investigating Magistrate, an incompetent and arrogant -young official, wrongly held Tolstoy responsible for 'careless holding -of cattle,' and, besides commencing criminal proceedings against -him, obliged him to give a written undertaking not to leave Yasnaya. -Prince D. D. Obolensky tells how Tolstoy arrived one day at a meet at -the Prince's estate of Schahovskoy (some thirty miles from Yasnaya) -late and much upset, and told of an examination he had that morning -undergone at the hands of the Investigating Magistrate, whose duties -included those of Coroner. 'Being an excitable man,' says Obolensky, -'Tolstoy was extremely indignant at the Magistrate's conduct, and -told how the latter had kept a Yasno-Polyana peasant in prison for -a year-and-a-half on suspicion of having stolen a cow, which then -turned out to have been stolen by some one else. "He will confine -me for a year," added Tolstoy. "It is absurd, and shows how utterly -arbitrary these gentlemen are. I shall sell all I have in Russia and -go to England, where every man's person is respected. Here every -police-officer, if one does not grovel at his feet, can play one the -dirtiest tricks!"' - -P. F. Samarin, who had also come to the hunt, opposed Tolstoy with -animation, arguing that the death or even the mutilation of a man, -was so serious a matter that it could not be left without judicial -investigation. After long argument Samarin more or less convinced -Tolstoy, and the latter before retiring to rest remarked to Obolensky, -'What a wonderful power of calming people Samarin has!' - -The judicial proceedings dragged on for more than a month, and it -was not till late in September that Tolstoy was again free to take a -journey to Moscow. The proceedings, first against him and then against -his steward, were abandoned; but not before the newspapers had taken -the matter up and made a fuss about it. - -At last, in November, the _ABC_ Book was published. It sold slowly, -and was attacked by some of the papers. Tolstoy however was not -discouraged, but held to his belief that (as he expressed it to -Strahof) he had 'erected a monument'--a conviction amply justified by -the ultimate success of the work. He had indeed produced a reading-book -far superior to anything that had previously existed in Russia, and -that is probably unmatched in any language. With certain modifications -to be mentioned later on, it continues to circulate throughout Russia -to the present day. - -In connection with his other efforts to popularise his system of -instruction, Tolstoy, in October 1872, invited a dozen teachers from -neighbouring schools to visit him for a week at Yasnaya. They were -accommodated in his second house (called, as is customary in Russian -when speaking of a subsidiary residence, 'the wing'); and a number -of illiterate boys were collected from villages within reach, to be -taught on Tolstoy's lines. He also formed a project of establishing a -'University in bark shoes' [the country peasants wear bark shoes] or in -other words, a training college in which peasants could become teachers -without ceasing to be peasants. This plan occupied his attention, off -and on, for some years; but (owing to causes which will be related -later) never came to fruition. - -In December Tourgenef writes from Paris, to Fet: - - I got a copy of L. Tolstoy's ABC, but except the beautiful story, - _A Prisoner in the Caucasus_, I did not find anything interesting - in it. And the price is absurdly dear for a work of that kind. - -The price of the first edition of 3000 copies of the _ABC_ was Rs. 2 -(about 5s. 6d.). Tourgenef probably had no idea of the immense labour, -or of the typographical difficulties, involved in its production. The -subsequent editions were much cheaper. - -About this time Fet sent Tolstoy a letter in rhyme, to which the latter -replied as follows: - - _12 November 1872._ - - The causeless shame felt by the onion - Before the sweetly-scented rose, - My dearest Fet, I should be feeling, - Were I to answer you in prose. - - And yet in maiden verse replying, - By sad misgivings I'm beset: - The when and where, yourself please settle-- - But come and visit us, dear Fet. - - Tho' drought may parch the rye and barley. - Yet still I shall not feel upset - If I but spend a day enjoying - Your conversation, dearest Fet! - - Too apt we often are to worry; - O'er future ills let us not fret: - Sufficient for the day, its evil-- - It's best to think so, dearest Fet! - - Joking apart, write quickly and let me know when to send horses to - the station to meet you. I want to see you terribly. - -Having at last got his _ABC_ off his hands, Tolstoy resumed his -preliminary labours for a large novel, which was to deal with the -period of Peter the Great. On 19th November 1872 the Countess wrote to -her brother: - - Our life just now is very, very serious. All day we are occupied. - Leo sits surrounded by a pile of portraits, pictures and books, - engrossed in reading, marking passages and taking notes. In the - evening, when the children have gone to bed, he tells me his plans, - and what he means to write. At times he is quite discouraged, falls - into despair, and thinks nothing will ever come of it. At other - times he is on the point of setting ardently to work; but as yet I - cannot say he has actually written anything, he is still preparing. - -A month later she wrote: - - As usual we are all of us very busy. The winter is the working time - for us proprietors, just as much as summer is for the peasants. Leo - is still reading historical books of the time of Peter the Great, - and is much interested in them. He notes down the characters of - various people, their traits, as well as the way of life of the - boyars and the peasants, and Peter's activity. He does not yet know - what will come of it all, but it seems to me we shall have another - prose poem like _War and Peace_; but of the time of Peter the Great. - - -1873 - -A few months later he definitely abandoned the project. His opinion of -Peter the Great ran directly counter to the popular one, and he felt -out of sympathy with the whole epoch. He declared there was nothing -great about the personality or activity of Peter, whose qualities were -all bad. His so-called reforms, far from aiming at the welfare of -the people, aimed simply at his own personal advantage. He founded -Petersburg because the boyars, who were influential and consequently -dangerous to him, disapproved of the changes he made, and because he -wished to be free to follow an immoral mode of life. The changes and -reforms he introduced were borrowed from Saxony, where the laws were -most cruel, and the morals most dissolute--all of which particularly -pleased him. This, Tolstoy holds, explains Peter's friendship with the -Elector of Saxony, who was among the most immoral of rulers. He also -considers that Peter's intimacy with the pieman Menshikof and with the -Swiss deserter Lefort, is explained by the contempt in which Peter -was held by all the boyars, among whom he could not find men willing -to share his dissolute life. Most of all, Tolstoy was revolted by the -murder of Peter's son Alexis, in which crime Tolstoy's own ancestor had -played a very prominent part. - -Almost simultaneously with the abandonment of the project to which he -had devoted so much time and attention, Tolstoy, without any special -preparation, began to write his second great novel, _Anna Karenina_. - -The year before, a lady named Anna who lived with Bibikof, a -neighbouring squire mentioned on a previous page, had committed suicide -by throwing herself under a train, out of jealousy of Bibikof's -attentions to their governess. Tolstoy knew all the details of the -affair, and had been present at the post-mortem. This supplied him -with a theme; but it was not till March 1873, and then as it were by -accident, that he actually began to write the book. One day a volume of -Poushkin happened to be lying open at the commencement of _A Fragment_, -which begins with the words, 'The guests had arrived at the country -house.' Tolstoy, noticing this, remarked to those present that these -words, plunging at once into the midst of things, are a model of how -a story should begin. Some one then laughingly suggested that he -should begin a novel in that way; and Tolstoy at once started on _Anna -Karenina_, the second sentence, and first narrative sentence, of which -is, 'All was in confusion in the Oblonskys' house.' - -In May Tolstoy and his whole family went for a three months' visit to -Samara, where he had recently purchased some more land. - -This summer he hired a Bashkir named Mouhamed Shah, who owned and -brought with him a herd of milking mares. This Mouhamed Shah, or -Romanovitch as he was called in Russian, was polite, punctual, and -dignified. He had a workman to drive the herd, and a wife (who retired -behind a curtain in his _kotchevka_ when visitors came to see him) to -wait upon him. In subsequent years this worthy man repeatedly resumed -his engagement with the Tolstoys. - -This was the first year the whole estate had been ploughed up and sown. -It was fortunate for the district that some one who had the ear of the -public, happened to be there; for the crops in the whole neighbourhood -failed utterly, and a famine ensued. So out-of-the-world were the -people and so cut off from civilisation, that they might have suffered -and died without the rest of Russia hearing anything about it, had not -Tolstoy been at hand to make their plight known in good time by an -appeal for help, which the Countess prompted him to draw up, and which -appeared on 17th August, in Katkof's paper, the _Moscow Gazette_. - -In this article on the Samara Famine, Tolstoy describes how the -complete failure of the harvest, following as it did on two previous -poor harvests, had brought nearly nine-tenths of the population to -destitution and hunger. - -To ascertain the real state of things Tolstoy took an inventory at -every tenth house in the village of Gavrilovka--the one nearest his -estate; and of the twenty-three families so examined, all but one -were found to be in debt, and none of them knew how they were to get -through the winter. Most of the men had left home to look for work, but -the harvest being bad everywhere, and so many people being in search -of work, the price of labour had fallen to one-eighth of what it had -previously been. - -Tolstoy visited several villages and found a similar state of things -everywhere. Together with his article, he sent Rs. 100 (then equal to -about L14) as a first subscription to a Famine Fund. This was only a -small part of what he spent in relief of the impoverished peasants, for -when Prougavin (well known for his valuable descriptions of Russian -sects) visited the district in 1881, many of the inhabitants spoke to -him of Tolstoy's personal kindness to the afflicted, and of his gifts -of corn and money during the famine. - -The subscription proved a success. Tolstoy's aunt, the Countess A. -A. Tolstoy (who had charge of the education of Marie Alexandrovna, -subsequently Duchess of Edinburgh), mentioned the matter to the -Empress, who was one of the first to contribute. Her example was -largely followed, and altogether, in money and in kind, something -like Rs. 2,000,000, or about L270,000, was contributed during 1873-4. -Within a year or two, good harvests again completely changed the whole -appearance of the district. - -This was the first, but neither the last nor the worst, of the famines -in which Tolstoy rendered help. - -Before the end of August 1873 he was back at Yasnaya, and wrote to Fet: - - On the 22nd we arrived safely from Samara.... In spite of the - drought, the losses and the inconvenience, we all, even my wife, - are satisfied with our visit, and yet more satisfied to be back in - the old frame of our life; and we are now taking up our respective - labours.... - -A month later he writes again, referring to Kramskoy's portrait of -himself, a photogravure of which forms the frontispiece of this volume, -and shows the blouse which even in those days, before his Conversion, -he wore when at home, instead of a tailor-made coat: - - _25 September 1873._ - - I am beginning to write.... The children are learning; my wife is - busy and teaches. Every day for a week Kramskoy has been painting - my portrait for Tretyakof's Gallery, and I sit and chat with him, - and try to convert him from the Petersburg faith to the faith of - the baptized. I agreed to this, because Kramskoy came personally, - and offered to paint a second portrait for us very cheaply, and - because my wife persuaded me. - -Up to this time Tolstoy, sensitive about his personal appearance, and -instinctively disliking any personal advertisement, had always had -an objection to having his portrait painted; and if he ever allowed -himself to be photographed, was careful to have the negative destroyed -that copies might not be multiplied. This prejudice he abandoned in -later life; and after Kramskoy had broken the ice, portraits and -photographs of Tolstoy became more and more common. - -Kramskoy's acquaintance with the Tolstoys came about in this way. He -was commissioned to paint a portrait of the great novelist, for the -collection of famous Russians in Tretyakof's picture gallery in Moscow; -but sought in vain in that town for his photograph, and was too modest -to ask Tolstoy (who, he knew, was living a secluded life at Yasnaya) to -give him sittings. He therefore hired a _datcha_, some three miles from -Yasnaya, with the intention of painting Tolstoy, who often rode past -on horseback. His intention, however, became known, and the Tolstoys -at once sent him a friendly invitation to visit them. Of the two very -similar portraits of Tolstoy which Kramskoy painted, one has remained -at Yasnaya. - -Before Tolstoy's next letter to Fet, the angel of death had crossed the -threshold of his house for the first time in his married life. On 11th -November he wrote: - - We are in trouble: Peter, our youngest, fell ill with croup and - died in two days. It is the first death in our family in eleven - years, and my wife feels it very deeply. One may console oneself - by saying that if one had to choose one of our eight, this loss is - lighter than any other would have been; but the heart, especially - the mother's heart--that wonderful and highest manifestation of - Divinity on earth--does not reason, and my wife grieves. - - -1874 - -During the whole of 1874 Tolstoy made strenuous efforts to get his -system of education more generally adopted. On 15th January, overcoming -his dislike of speaking in public, he addressed the Moscow Society of -Literacy on the subject of the best way to teach children to read. The -details of his argument need not here detain us, as it will fall to the -lot of few of my readers to teach Russian children to read Russian; -but briefly, the German _Lautiermethode_ had been adopted by Russian -pedagogues in a way that Tolstoy considered arbitrary and pedantic, -and his appeal, which in the main has not carried conviction to the -educationalists, was against that method. - -The large hall in which the meeting took place was crowded. The -President of the Society, Mr. Shatilof, invited Tolstoy to open -the debate, but Tolstoy preferred to reply to what questions and -remarks the other speakers might put. In the course of the animated -proceedings, in which several men well known in the Russian educational -world took part, the discussion widened out till it covered the -question of the whole direction of elementary education; and Tolstoy, -from the standpoint of his belief that it is harmful to force upon -the people a culture they do not demand and are not prepared for--and -much of which, though considered by us to be science, may yet turn -out to be no better than the alchemy and astrology of the Middle -Ages--denounced the education forced upon the children in elementary -schools, and declared that this should be confined in the first place -to teaching the Russian language and arithmetic, leaving natural -science and history alone. To prove the advantage of his way of -teaching reading, Tolstoy offered to give a practical demonstration in -one of the schools attached to some of the Moscow mills. Accordingly -it was arranged that this should take place the next day and the day -after, at the mills owned by Mr. Ganeshin, on the Devitche Polye just -outside Moscow. On the morrow Tolstoy was unwell, and did not appear; -but he gave his demonstration on the evening of the following day, -with the result that, on the suggestion of Mr. Shatilof, the Society -of Literacy decided to start two temporary schools for the express -purpose of testing the rival methods during a period of seven weeks. -The one school was taught by Mr. M. E. Protopopof, an expert in the -_Lautiermethode_, while in the other school Tolstoy's method was taught -by Mr. P. V. Morozof. After seven weeks the children were examined by -a Committee, which had to report to the Society at a meeting held on -13th April. The members of the Committee however could not agree, and -handed in separate and contradictory reports. At the meeting of the -Society there was again a great divergence of opinion; and Tolstoy, -who considered that the test had not been made under proper conditions -(most of the pupils being too young, and the continual presence of -visitors preventing the teacher from holding the children's attention), -but that nevertheless his method had shown its superiority, decided to -appeal to a wider public, and did so in the form of a letter addressed -to Mr. Shatilof. - -A full account of what happened from the time the dispute passed -into the press, has been given by that powerful and popular critic -and essayest, N. K. Mihaylovsky, who was at this time a colleague -of Nekrasof. In 1866 the _Contemporary_ had been prohibited, as a -punishment for its too Liberal tendencies. In 1868 Nekrasof and -Saltykof (Stchedrin) had taken over the management of the _Fatherland -Journal_. Tolstoy, who had long dropped out of touch with Nekrasof, now -addressed to him a request that the _Fatherland Journal_ should take a -hand in his fight with the pedagogic specialists, and should interest a -wider public in his educational reforms. As an inducement, he held out -a prospect (never fulfilled) that he would contribute some of his works -of fiction to their magazine. The outcome of his correspondence with -Nekrasof was, that though the whole question of elementary education -was somewhat foreign to a literary magazine such as the _Fatherland -Journal_, a long article by Tolstoy (his letter to Shatilof) appeared -in the September number, under the title of _On the Education of the -People_. - -Tolstoy's educational articles in 1862, when he issued them in his own -magazine, had fallen quite flat and attracted no attention, but this -article, by the author of _War and Peace_, in a leading Petersburg -magazine, though expressing very similar views, received very much -attention, and was criticised, favourably or adversely, in a large -number of other publications. Though his views were only adopted to -a small extent, yet the severe shock which he administered to the -professional pedagogues who looked on school-children as 'a flock -existing for the sake of its shepherds,' had a most healthy influence, -and that it did not pass without some immediate practical effect is -indicated by the rejection from the Moscow Teachers' Seminary of one of -the text-books Tolstoy attacked most fiercely. - -Following on the storm raised in the press by Tolstoy's article, -Mihaylovsky, in the _Fatherland Journal_ for January 1875, published a -long article entitled _An Outsider's Notes_, in which he took Tolstoy's -part against the pedagogues, and said: 'Though I am one of the profane -in philosophy and pedagogics, and am writing simply a _feuilleton_, I -nevertheless advise my readers to peruse this _feuilleton_ with great -attention, not for my sake, but for Tolstoy's, and for the sake of -those fine shades of thought on which I do but comment.' - -Before this, however, Tolstoy had made another attempt to improve the -state of elementary education, by promoting the establishment of that -'University in bark shoes' to which I have already alluded. - -He had found some of the boys in the Yasno-Polyana school anxious -to continue their studies after finishing the school course; and an -experiment in teaching these lads algebra had been highly successful. - -In his last article on Education, Tolstoy had pointed out that a great -obstacle to the spread of efficient elementary instruction lay in the -fact that the peasants could not afford the salaries (extremely modest -as these sound to Western ears) demanded by Russian teachers of the -non-peasant classes. It was therefore quite natural that he should -now devise a scheme for preparing teachers from among the peasants -themselves; and he drew up a project for a training college to be -established at Yasnaya, under his own direction and control. - -In the summer of this year Tolstoy paid a brief visit to his Samara -estate to look after its management; and he took his son Sergius with -him. - -On 20th November 1874 the Countess wrote to her brother: - - Our usual serious winter work is now in full swing. Leo is quite - taken up with popular education, schools, and colleges for - teachers, where teachers for the peasants' schools are to be - trained. All this keeps him busy from morning till night. I have my - doubts about all this. I am sorry his strength should be spent on - these things instead of on writing a novel; and I don't know in how - far it will be of use, since all this activity will extend only to - one small corner of Russia. - -P. F. Samarin, the Marshal of the Nobility of Toula Government, backed -Tolstoy cordially, and pointed out that the Zemstvo (County Council) -had a sum of Rs. 30,000 available for educational purposes, and that -this might be devoted to starting a teachers' Training College. To -attain this end Tolstoy, who heretofore had always refused to stand for -election, consented to enter the Zemstvo, and after being returned to -that body, was unanimously chosen to serve on its Education Committee. - -He presented a report in the sense indicated above, which was at first -favourably discussed; but unfortunately one of the oldest members -rose, and alluding to the fact that a collection was being made all -over Russia for a monument to Catherine the Great, and that it was the -centenary of the decree by which she had created the Government of -Toula, proposed that the money should be devoted to the monument of -their Benefactress. This loyal sentiment met with approval, and though -Tolstoy did not at once abandon his plan, the means to carry it out -were never forthcoming, and we do not hear much more of it. - -If one did not know how stupidly reactionary the governing classes -of Russia were at this period, it would seem extraordinary that the -central and the local authorities alike should have so constantly -balked and hindered Tolstoy's disinterested projects: forbidding the -publication of his newspaper for soldiers, mutilating his stories, -sending gendarmes to search his schools, looking askance at his school -magazine, and defeating his project for a Training College. Can it be -wondered at, that he came more and more to identify Government with -all that is most opposed to enlightenment? We know that similar causes -were, at that very time, driving men and women of a younger generation -to undertake dangerous propaganda work, in more or less definite -opposition to the existing order of society, among factory workmen and -country peasants. - -His devotion to educational matters did not entirely supersede, though -no doubt it delayed, his activity as a novelist. In the spring of 1874 -he had taken the commencement of _Anna Karenina_ to Moscow, but for -some reason none of it appeared that year. - -Tourgenef, in collaboration with Madame Viardot, was at this time -translating some of Tolstoy's best stories into French. Writing to Fet -in March 1874, he says: - - The season is now almost over, but all the same I will try to place - his [Tolstoy's] _Three Deaths_ in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ or - in the _Temps_, and in autumn I will without fail get out _The - Cossacks_. The more often I read that story, the more convinced I - am that it is the _chef d'oeuvre_ of Tolstoy and of all Russian - narrative literature. - -Meanwhile life and death pursued their course. In April a son was born -and christened Nicholas; and before long, death, having a few months -previously taken the youngest, returned to claim the oldest members -of the household. The first of them to go was his dearly-loved Aunty -Tatiana Alexandrovna, to whose good influence through life he owed so -much. She died on 20th June, and next year his other aunt followed her. - -Tolstoy never refers to his aunt Tatiana without letting us see how he -cherishes her memory. Here for instance are one or two of his notes -relating to her: - - When already beginning to grow feeble, having waited her - opportunity, one day when I was in her room she said to us, turning - away (I saw that she was ready to cry), 'Look here, _mes chers - amis_, my room is a good one and you will want it. If I die in - it,' and her voice trembled, 'the recollection will be unpleasant - to you; so move me somewhere else, that I may not die here.' Such - she always was, from my earliest childhood, before I was able to - understand her goodness. - -Again referring to her death, and to the love for his father which had -played so large a part in her life, he adds: - - She died peacefully, gradually falling asleep; and died as she - desired, not in the room that had been hers, lest it should be - spoilt for us. - - She died recognising hardly any one. But me she always recognised, - smiling and brightening up as an electric lamp does when one - touches the knob, and sometimes she moved her lips trying to - pronounce the name Nicholas: thus in death completely and - inseparably uniting me with him she had loved all her life. - -The opinion the peasants had of her, was shown by the fact that when -her coffin was carried through the village, there was not one hut out -of the sixty in Yasnaya Polyana, from which the people did not come out -asking to have the procession stopped and a requiem sung for her soul. -'She was a kind lady and did nobody any harm,' said they. Tolstoy adds: - - On that account they loved her, and loved her very much. Lao-Tsze - says things are valuable for what is not in them. So it is with a - life. It is most valuable if there is nothing bad in it; and in the - life of Tatiana Alexandrovna there was nothing bad. - -Except in the case of his brother Nicholas, Tolstoy has usually not -been greatly upset even by the deaths of those near and dear to him. -The following letter to Fet shows how he took Tatiana's death: - - _24 June 1874._ - - Two days ago we buried Aunt Tatiana Alexandrovna. She died slowly - and gradually, and I had grown accustomed to the process; yet her - death was, as the death of a near and dear one always is, a quite - new, isolated and unexpectedly-stirring event. The others are - well, and our house is full. The delightful heat, the bathing and - the fruit have brought me to the state of mental laziness I love, - with only enough mental life remaining to enable me to remember my - friends and think of them. - -The next letter, dated the 22nd October, tells its own tale: - - DEAR AFANASY AFANASYEVITCH,--I have planned to buy, and must buy, - some land at Nikolsky, and for that purpose must borrow Rs. 10,000 - for one year on mortgage. It may be that you have money you want to - place. If so, write to Ivan Ivanovitch Orlof, Nikolsky village, and - he will arrange the affair with you independently of our relations - to one another.... How gladly would I come to see you, were I not - so overwhelmed with the school, family and estate business, that I - have not even time to go out shooting.... I hope to be free when - winter comes. - - -1875 - -A small second edition of Tolstoy's _ABC_ Book, in twelve paper-bound -parts, was printed this year; but he did not yet feel quite satisfied -with that work, and towards the close of the year he revised it, -abbreviating, omitting the arithmetic, and introducing graduated -reading exercises. As soon as the pupil has mastered a few of the -most necessary letters and can put these together, Tolstoy contrives -out of the very simplest syllables to construct sentences that have -a meaning and an interest. The _New ABC_ Book, apart from the more -advanced _Readers_, and consisting of ninety-two pages of elementary -matter, was issued in 1875, at the low price of 14 copecks (about 4d.). -Since Tolstoy's efforts have seldom been favoured by the Government, -it is worth noting that this edition was 'Approved and recommended by -the Scholarly Committee of the Ministry of Popular Education.' Between -one and two million copies of it have since been sold. The reading -matter from his first _ABC_ Book was subsequently graded into four -cheap _Readers_ costing 3d. to 4d. each, and though not honoured by -the Ministry of Education, they have from that time to this circulated -in increasing quantities, being printed of late years in edition after -edition of 50,000 at a time. - -The Countess has in general enjoyed good health and worn her years and -the cares of her large family very lightly; but during the winter of -1874-5 her condition gave her husband much concern. In January he was -able to write to Fet: 'I have ceased to fear for my wife's health'; but -in fact for some time longer she continued to be ailing. - -The commencement of _Anna Karenina_, appeared in the first four monthly -numbers of the _Russian Messenger_ for 1875. - -By far the best English version of that novel (as also of _War -and Peace_) is Mrs. Constance Garnett's, though I do not like her -alteration of the title of the book to _Anna Karenin_, nor am I quite -satisfied with her treatment of some of the conversations in it; but -unquestionably we have much to thank her for. - -In February the baby, Nicholas, died of inflammation of the brain, and -on 4th March 1875[53] Tolstoy wrote to Fet: - - [53] This letter evidently relates to the year 1875, though in - Fet's _Vospominaniya_ it is given as belonging to 1874. - - We have one grief after another; you and Marya Petrovna will - certainly be sorry for us, especially for Sonya. Our youngest son, - ten months old, fell ill three weeks ago with the dreadful illness - called 'water on the brain,' and after three weeks' terrible - torture died three days ago, and we have buried him to-day. I feel - it hard through my wife; but for her, who was nursing him herself, - it is very hard. - -In the same letter he mentions _Anna Karenina_, and immediately -afterwards he makes an allusion to the first idea of his _Confession_, -which was not actually written till 1879: - - It pleases me very much that you praise _Karenina_ and I hear that - she gets praised; but assuredly never was writer so indifferent to - his success as I am! - - On the one hand what preoccupies me are the school affairs, and on - the other, strange to say, the subject of a new work, which took - possession of me just at the worst time of the boy's illness,--and - that illness itself and death.... - - From Tourgenef I have received the translation, printed in the - _Temps_, of my _Two Hussars_, and a letter written in the third - person asking to be informed that I have received it, and saying - that other stories are being translated by Madame Viardot and - Tourgenef,--both of which were unnecessary. [Tolstoy means that - they need neither have sent him the translation, nor informed him - of what they were doing.] - -The commencement of _Anna Karenina_ did not find favour with Tourgenef, -who on 14th March wrote from Paris to A. S. Souvorin, the novelist and -proprietor of the _Novoye Vremya_ (_New Times_): - - His [Tolstoy's] talent is quite extraordinary, but in _Anna - Karenina_ he, as one says here, _a fait fausse route_; one feels - the influence of Moscow, Slavophil nobility, Orthodox old maids, - his own isolation, and the absence of real artistic freedom. Part - II is simply dull and shallow--that's what's the matter. - -And writing in similar strains to Polonsky the poet, Tourgenef said: - - _Anna Karenina_ does not please me, though there are some truly - splendid pages (the steeplechase, the mowing, and the hunt). But - it is all sour: smells of Moscow, holy oil, old maidishness, - Slavophilism, and the aristocracy, etc. - -The cordiality of Tourgenef's appreciation of Tolstoy's writings in -general, is sufficient guarantee that it was no personal prejudice -that led him to speak in this way of a book which is one of Tolstoy's -three most important novels, and which many people hold to be the best -of them all. What really caused his harsh judgment, is a matter I will -deal with later on. - -This summer the whole Tolstoy family went to the Samara estates, which -had already been considerably increased by the last purchase, and which -ultimately exceeded 16,000 acres. Mouhamed Shah with his herd of mares -and his _kotchevka_--which Tolstoy called 'our saloon'--again appeared -on the scene. A second _kotchevka_ was set up for the use of the -Tolstoys themselves, and was so much in favour that all the members of -the family were eager to occupy it. - -The novelty and the peculiarities of steppe farming interested Tolstoy, -and he, as well as other members of his household, took an active part -in harvesting and winnowing. How primitive were the Samara methods of -agriculture may be shown by mentioning their manner of threshing. A -ring of horses was formed, tied head to tail. In the centre of the ring -stood a driver with a long lash, and the horses were set trotting round -a corresponding circle of sheaves, out of which they trod the grain. - -The virgin soil was ploughed up by five or even six pair of oxen, -wearing round their necks deep-toned bells, sounding in a minor key. -These things, together with the pipes of the boys who watched the -herds, the sultry days, and the marvellously clear moonlit nights, had -a wonderful charm for the whole party, and this charm was increased -by Tolstoy's capacity to notice and direct attention to whatever was -interesting or beautiful. - -The whole family became interested, Behrs tells us, in their new -farming, and some of them went with Tolstoy as far afield as Orenbourg -to purchase cattle and horses. - -He bought about a hundred Bashkir mares and crossed them with an -English trotter and with horses of other breeds, hoping to obtain a -good new type. - -One evening his whole herd, and Mouhamed Shah's as well, were very -nearly driven off by some Kirghiz nomads who were passing. The invaders -were, however, pursued and driven off by two mounted Bashkir labourers. - -Tolstoy declared farming in Samara to be a game of chance. It cost -nearly three times as much to plough up the land, sow it, and gather -in a harvest, as it did to purchase the freehold of the estate; and -if during May and June there was not at least one good fall of rain, -everything perished; whereas if it rained several times, the harvest -yielded thirty to forty-fold. - -One day, at harvest time, a poor wandering Tartar, drawing two little -children in a tiny cart, came up to the balcony on which the Tolstoys -were sitting, and asked to be hired as a labourer. He was allowed to -set up his wigwam in a field close by, and the Tolstoy children used to -go there every day to feed the little Tartars. - -In the neighbouring village lived several well-to-do Russian peasants -with whom Tolstoy was on very good terms. Either because they were -economically independent and lived in a province where serfdom had -not prevailed, or as a result of Tolstoy's tact and ability to set -people at their ease, these peasants always behaved with dignity and -self-respect. They shook hands when they said 'How do you do?' and -seemed quite at home with the Count. - -He used to notice with pleasure the good relations and complete -religious toleration that existed in those parts between the Orthodox -peasants and their Mohammedan neighbours; and he was also delighted -that the priest at Patrovka was on friendly terms with the Molokans he -was trying to convert. - -One rainy night, after staying late at this priest's house, Tolstoy -and his brother-in-law completely lost their way. It was so dark -that they could not see their horses' heads. Behrs was riding an old -working horse, which kept pulling to the left. Tolstoy, on hearing -this, told him to let the horse follow its bent. Behrs therefore tied -his reins so that they hung loose, and wrapping himself in his cloak -from the drenching rain, allowed the horse to go where it liked. -Carefully avoiding the ploughed land, it soon brought them out on to -the road, and, curiously enough, to just the one part of it which was -distinguishable from the extraordinary sameness of the rest, so that -the riders knew just where they were. - -The most striking event of this year's stay in Samara was a horse race, -arranged by Tolstoy. Mouhamed Shah was authorised to announce to the -peasants and neighbours that races would be held on the Count's estate; -and invitations were sent to all likely to take part. Bashkirs and -Kirghiz assembled, bringing with them tents, portable copper boilers, -plenty of koumys, and even sheep. Oural Cossacks and Russian peasants -also came from the whole surrounding neighbourhood. In preparation for -the race, says Behrs: - - We ourselves chose a level place, measured out a huge circle three - miles in circumference, marked it by running a plough round, and - set up posts. Sheep and even one horse were prepared with which - to regale visitors. By the appointed day some thousands of people - had collected. On the wild steppe, covered with feather grass, - a row of tents appeared, and soon a motley crowd enlivened it. - On the conical hillocks (locally called 'cones') felt and other - carpets were spread, on which the Bashkirs sat in circles, their - legs tucked under them. In the centre of the circle, out of a large - _toursouk_ [a leather bottle made of an animal's leg] a young - Bashkir poured koumys, handing the cup to each of the company in - turn. Their songs, and the tunes played on their pipes and reeds, - sounded somewhat dreary to a European ear. Wrestling, at which the - Bashkirs are particularly skilful, could be seen here and there. - Thirty trained horses were entered for the chief race. The riders - were boys of about ten years, who rode without saddles. - -This race was for thirty-three miles, and it took exactly an hour and -forty minutes; consequently it was run at the rate of three minutes -a mile. Of the thirty horses, ten ran the whole distance, the others -giving up. The principal prizes were a horse, an ox, a gun, a clock, -and a dressing-gown. The festival lasted two days, and passed off in -perfect order and very gaily. To Tolstoy's delight no police were -present. The guests all politely thanked their host and departed highly -satisfied. 'Even in the crowd,' says Behrs, 'it seemed to me that Leo -Nikolayevitch knew how to evoke _entrain_ combined with respect for -good order.' - -Tolstoy visited the Petrovsky Fair, as was his yearly custom, and -stayed at the Bouzoulouk Monastery, where a hermit resided who was -'saving his soul' by a solitary and ascetic life. This man lived in an -underground catacomb. When he came out he walked about the garden and -showed his visitors an apple-tree he had planted forty years before, -under which it was his custom to sit when receiving pilgrims. He spoke -to Tolstoy about the Scriptures, and showed him his catacomb-home, the -coffin in which he slept, and the large crucifix before which he prayed. - -Tolstoy considered that the respect paid to this man by pilgrims and -other visitors, was the outcome of genuine religious feeling, and -proved that the hermit, by giving the example of a pure, unworldly -life, supplied a real want. - -Readers of Tolstoy's short stories will be aware of the use to which he -subsequently put his knowledge of the Bashkirs and of the hermit. - -On 26th August, after reaching Yasnaya, he wrote to Fet: - - Two days ago we arrived home safely.... - - We have had an average harvest, but the price of labour has been - enormous, so that finally ends only just meet. For two months I - have not soiled my hands with ink nor my heart with thoughts. Now I - am settling down again to dull, common-place _Anna Karenina_ with - the sole desire to clear a space quickly, and obtain leisure for - other occupations--only not for the educational work I love but - wish to abandon. It takes too much time. - -His Samara experiences confirmed in him the feeling that not the -civilisation and progress and political struggles of the Western -world and of the small Westernised section of Russians, were really -important, but the great primitive struggle of plain people to obtain -a subsistence in healthy natural conditions; and he adds in the same -letter: - - Why fate took me there [to Samara] I do not know; but I know - that I have listened to speeches in the English Parliament, - which is considered very important, and it seemed to me dull and - insignificant; but there, are flies, dirt, and Bashkir peasants, - and I, watching them with intense respect and anxiety, became - absorbed in listening to them and watching them, and felt it all to - be very important. - - One must live as we lived, in a healthy out-of-the-way part of - Samara, and see the struggle going on before one's eyes of the - nomadic life (of millions of people on an immense territory) with - the primitive agricultural life, in order to realise all the - importance of that struggle. - -After their return from the Government of Samara, all the children got -hooping-cough. The Countess caught it from them, and, being in the -sixth month of pregnancy, was very ill. This resulted in the premature -birth of a girl, Varvara, who lived less than two hours. - -Tolstoy's eldest son, Sergius, had now reached the age of twelve. -Besides their English governess and a Swiss lady, the children had -at different times a Swiss, a Frenchman, and a German as tutors for -modern languages. Tutors and students who acted as tutors, also lodged -at Yasnaya and taught other subjects. A music master came over from -Toula. The eldest boy had considerable musical talent, and the family -as a whole were musical. As soon as they had mastered their finger -exercises, the Count insisted on their at once being allowed to learn -serious pieces. - -Every effort was made to awaken and foster the talent for drawing -and painting which some of the children, and especially the eldest -daughter, Tatiana, possessed; but lessons in these subjects were only -given to those who showed real capacity for them. - -Much as Tolstoy disliked the curriculum of the Grammar Schools -('Gymnasiums,' as they are called in Russia), he did, not wish to make -it impossible for his sons to enter the University, and they followed -the usual classical course. Sergius passed his examinations each year -in Toula Gymnasium, being carefully coached at home. - -In his _Recollections_ Behrs tells us of Tolstoy's enlivening influence -in the family: - - I cannot sufficiently describe the joyous and happy frame of mind - that usually reigned at Yasnaya Polyana. Its source was always Leo - Nikolayevitch. In conversation about abstract questions, about - the education of children, about outside matters--his opinion was - always most interesting. When playing croquet, or during our walks, - he enlivened us all by his humour and his participation, taking a - real part in the game or the walk. - - With me, he liked to mow, or use the rake; to do gymnastics, to - race, and occasionally to play leap-frog or _gorodki_ [a game in - which a stick is thrown at some other shorter sticks placed in - a pattern], etc. Though far inferior to him in strength, for he - could lift 180 lbs. with one hand, I could easily match him in a - race, but seldom passed him, for I was always laughing. That mood - accompanied all our exercises. Whenever we happened to pass where - mowers were at work, he would go up to them and borrow a scythe - from the one who seemed most tired. I of course imitated his - example. He would then ask me, Why we, with well-developed muscles, - cannot mow six days on end, though a peasant does it on rye-bread, - and sleeping on damp earth? 'You just try to do it under such - conditions,' he would add in conclusion. When leaving the meadow, - he would take a handful of hay from the haycock and sniff it, - keenly enjoying its smell. - -Children and grown-ups alike played croquet at Yasnaya. The game -generally began after dinner in the evening, and only finished by -candlelight. Behrs says that, having played it with Tolstoy, he -considers croquet to be a game of chance. Tolstoy's commendation of a -good shot always pleased the player and aroused the emulation of his -opponents. The kindly irony of his comments on a miss, also acted as -a spur. A simple word from him, uttered just at the right moment and -in the right tone, produced that _entrain_ which makes any occupation -interesting and infects all who come under its influence. - -The sincerity of Tolstoy's nature showed itself in the frank expression -of his passing mood. If, when driving to the station, he saw that they -had missed the train, he would exclaim, 'Ach! we've missed it!' with -such intensity that every one within earshot would first feel as though -a calamity had occurred, and would then join in the hearty laughter -which his own vehement exclamation evoked in Tolstoy. It was the same -when he made a bad miss at croquet; and also if, when sitting at home, -he suddenly remembered some engagement he had forgotten to keep. If, -as sometimes happened, his exclamation alarmed his wife, he would -half-jokingly add, like a scolded child, 'I'll never do it again!' - -His laughter, which began on a high note, had something wonderfully -infectious about it. His head would hang over on one side, and his -whole body would shake. - -His good-natured irony constantly acted as a stimulant to those about -him. If, for instance, some one was in the dumps about the weather, -Tolstoy would say: 'Is your weather behaving badly?' Or when Behrs was -sitting comfortably listening to a conversation, he would say to him: -'As you are on the move, you might please bring me so-and-so.' - -When he felt it wise to reject an extra cigar or a second helping of -some favourite dish, he would remark to those present: 'Wait till I am -grown up, and then I will have two helpings,' or 'two cigars,' as the -case might be. - -If, says Behrs, 'he noticed any of the children making a wry or -affected face, he generally called out, "Now then, no grimacing; you'll -only spoil your phiz."' - -Behrs also tells us that. - - What he called 'the Numidian cavalry' evoked our noisiest applause. - He would unexpectedly spring up from his place and, raising one - arm in the air with its hand hanging quite loose from the wrist, - he would run lightly through the rooms. All the children, and - sometimes the grown-ups also, would follow his example with the - same suddenness. - -Tolstoy read aloud very well, and would often read to the family or to -visitors. - -His contempt for doctors and medicine is plainly indicated both in -_War and Peace_ and _Anna Karenina_. Like Rousseau he considered -that the practice of medicine should be general and not confined -to one profession; and this opinion inclined him to approve of the -folk-remedies used by the peasants. But he did not go the length of -refusing to call in a doctor when one of the family was seriously ill. - -Before the year closed, Tolstoy's aunt, Pelageya Ilynishna Ushkof, with -whom he had lived in his young days in Kazan, also passed away. She -had been separated from her husband before his death in 1869, and had -long not even seen him, though they remained quite friendly towards -one another. She was very religious in an Orthodox Church way, and -after her husband's death retired to the Optin nunnery. Subsequently -she moved to the Toula nunnery, but arranged to spend much of her time -at Yasnaya; where in her eightieth year she fell ill and died. She was -in general a good-tempered though not clever woman, and all her life -long strictly observed the ceremonies of the Church and thought that -she firmly believed its teaching about redemption and resurrection; -yet she was so afraid of death that on her death-bed she was reluctant -to receive the eucharist, because it brought home to her mind the fact -that she was dying; and as a consequence of the sufferings caused by -the fear of death, she became irritable with all about her. - -A servant who lived in the house at the time, tells that while at -Yasnaya she used, on the first of each month, to send for a priest. -As soon as he arrived, and began the usual ceremony of blessing -with holy water, Tolstoy would escape and hide himself. Not till -the gardener, Semyon--whom he used to send into the conservatory to -reconnoitre--brought him word that the priest had gone, would Tolstoy -reappear in the house. - -About that time, however, his attitude towards Church ceremonies -altered. His man-servant Sergey Arbouzof (who saw only the external -signs of the complex inner struggle going on in Tolstoy) tells us: - - Suddenly a wonderful change came over him, of which I was a - witness. In 1875 a priest, Vasily Ivanovitch, from the Toula - Seminary, used to come to teach theology to Tolstoy's children. At - first, Leo Nikolayevitch hardly ever talked to him, but it once - happened that a snow-storm obliged Vasily Ivanovitch to stop the - night at our house. The Count began a conversation with him, and - they did not go to bed till daylight. They talked the whole night. - - From that day Leo Nikolayevitch became very thoughtful, and always - talked with Vasily Ivanovitch. When Lent came round, the Count - got up one morning and said, 'I am going to do my devotions, - and prepare to receive communion. You can go back to bed, but - first tell the coachman not to get up. I will saddle Kalmyk (his - favourite horse at that time) myself. Forgive me, Sergey, if I have - ever offended you!' and he went off to church. - - From that day for a couple of years he always went to church, - seldom missing a Sunday. The whole village was surprised, and - asked, 'What has the priest told the Count, that has suddenly made - him so fond of church-going?' - - It used to happen that the Count would come into my hut when I was - teaching my little boy religion. - - 'What are you teaching him?' he would ask. - - And I used to say, 'To pray.' - - 'Ah!' said he, 'that is right. A man who does not pray to God is - not a real man.' - - -1876 - -The publication of _Anna Karenina_ was renewed in the first four -numbers of the _Russian Messenger_ for 1876. - -On 1st March Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - Things are still not all right with us. My wife does not get over - her last illness, coughs, gets thin, and has first fever and then - headaches. And therefore the house lacks well-being, and I lack - mental tranquillity, which I now particularly need for my work. The - end of winter and beginning of spring is always my chief time for - work, and I must finish my novel, which now wearies me.... I always - hope a tooth will come loose in your jaw, or in your thrashing - machine, and cause you to go to Moscow. Then I shall spin a cobweb - at Kozlovka [the nearest station to Yasnaya] and catch you. - -In April Fet wrote to Tolstoy to say that he had been seriously -ill, had thought he was dying, and 'wished to call you to see how I -departed.' On 29th April Tolstoy replies in a letter notable because -it gives us a glimpse of the progress he had made in the fierce -five-year inner struggle with doubt which preceded the production of -his _Confession_: - - I am grateful to you for thinking of calling me to see your - departure, when you supposed it was near. I will do the same when - I get ready to go _thither_, if I am able to think. No one will - be so necessary to me at that moment as you and my brother. When - death draws near, intercourse with people who in this life look - beyond its bounds, is precious and cheering; and you and those - rare _real_ people I have met in life, always stand on the very - verge and see clearly, just because they look now at Nirvana--the - illimitable, the unknown--and now at Sansara; and that glance at - Nirvana strengthens their sight. But worldly people, however much - they may talk about God, are unpleasant to you and me, and must - be a torment when one is dying, for they do not see what we see, - namely the God who 'is more indefinite and distant, but loftier and - more indubitable,' as was said in that article. - - You are ill and think of death, and I am alive and do not cease - thinking of and preparing for the same thing.... Much that I have - thought, I have tried to express in the last chapter of the April - number of the _Russian Messenger_ [_Anna Karenina_, Part I, Chap. - XX]. - -The passage referred to, telling of the death of Levin's brother, is -evidently based on the death of Tolstoy's own brother Demetrius; and -it may here be mentioned that many characters in _Anna Karenina_ are -drawn more or less closely from life. For instance, Agafya Mihaylovna, -the servant, was a real person, and that was her real name. She died at -Yasnaya only a few years ago. Yasnaya Polyana itself, in many of its -details, is also described in the novel. - -On 12th May Tolstoy again writes to Fet: - - It is already five days since I received the horse, and every day - I prepare but never make time to write to you. Here the spring - and summer life has begun, and our house is full of guests and of - bustle. This summer life seems to me like a dream: it contains some - slight remains of my real, winter life, but consists chiefly of - visions, now pleasant and now unpleasant, from some absurd world - not ruled by sane sense. Among these visions came your beautiful - stallion. I am very much obliged to you for it. Where am I to send - the money to?... - - An event which occupies me very much at present is Sergey's - examinations, which begin on the 27th.... What a terrible summer! - Here it is dreadful and mournful to look at the wood, especially at - the young trees. They have all perished. - -On 18th May he wrote again: - - I have been slow in answering your long and cordial letter because - I have been unwell and dispirited, as I still am, but I will - write at least a few lines. Our house is full of people: my niece - Nagornaya with two children, the Kouzminskys with four children; - and Sonya [the Countess] is still poorly, and I dejected and - dull-minded. Our one hope was for good weather, and that we have - not got. As you and I resemble one another, you must know the - condition in which one feels oneself to be, now a God from whom - nothing is hid, and now stupider than a horse. In that state I am - at present. So do not be exacting. Till next letter, yours, - - L. TOLSTOY. - -The Kouzminskys referred to above were Tanya, her husband, and their -family. They spent every summer at Yasnaya, in the 'wing' house. When -discussing any excursion or other undertaking with Mr. Kouzminsky, -Tolstoy would often say, 'But we must hear what the Authorities have -to say about it,' the Authorities being their wives. - -Passing into his 'summer condition,' Tolstoy's attention to -_Anna Karenina_ slackened; but before the end of the year he set -energetically to work to finish it. The interest aroused by the book -was extreme, and the story goes that Moscow ladies used to send to the -establishment where the novel was being printed, to try to find out -what the continuation would be. - -On 21st July Tolstoy writes inviting Fet's brother, Peter -Afanasyevitch, a great lover of horses, to accompany him to Samara; and -in the same letter he makes an allusion to the troubles of the Slavs in -Turkey, where fighting had already been going on for a twelvemonth with -the Herzegovinians. Peter Afanasyevitch had gone as a volunteer, and -had returned after the failure of the insurrection. - - _21 July 1876._ - - I am very much to blame, dear Afanasy Afanasyevitch, for having - been so slow in writing to you. I prepare to write every day, but - cannot find time because I am doing nothing.... Strahof was here a - week ago, and we philosophised to the point of weariness.... - - I press the hand of Peter Afanasyevitch. I should like to hear - his stories about Herzegovina, in the existence of which I do not - believe! - - I am arranging to go to Samara in September. If Peter Afanasyevitch - has no plans for September, will not he go with me to see the - Kirghiz and their horses? How jolly it would be! - -Mention has already been made of the fact that Tolstoy, who understood -horses very well, was at this time interested in horse-breeding as -a source of revenue. To buy them he visited Orenbourg, where he met -General Kryzhanovsky, a friend who had been one of his superior -officers in Sevastopol and was now Governor-General of this northern -Province. They spent the time together very pleasantly recalling their -past experiences. - -To his wife, who had found it hard to consent to his absence, he wrote -in September: - - I know that it is hard for you, and that you are afraid; but I saw - the effort you made to control yourself and not to hinder me and, - were it possible, I loved you yet more on that account. If only God - grants you to spend the time well, healthily, energetically and - usefully!... Lord have mercy on me and on thee! - -In a letter of 13th November Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - Pity me for two things: (1) a good-for-nothing coachman took the - stallions to Samara and, wishing to take a short cut, drowned - Gouneba in a bog within ten miles of the estate; (2) I sleep and - cannot write; I despise myself for laziness and do not allow myself - to take up any other work. - -Twenty-eight years after the loss of Gouneba, the Countess, in speaking -to me of her husband's qualities as a man of affairs, remarked that -his schemes were very good, but that he generally spoilt them by -lack of care in details. 'For instance,' she remarked, 'it was quite -a good idea of his to send a very fine stallion which cost Rs. 2000 -[about L260] to our estate in Samara. There were no such horses in the -district; but he must needs entrust it to a drunken Tartar who made -away with it and said he had lost it.' - -On 7th December 1876 Tolstoy wrote to Fet acknowledging a poem, 'Among -the Stars,' which the latter had sent him: - - That poem is not only worthy of you, but is specially, specially - good, with that philosophic-poetic character which I expect from - you. It is excellent that it is said by the stars.... It is also - good, as my wife remarked, that on the same sheet on which the poem - is written, you pour out your grief that the price of kerosene has - risen to 12 copecks. That is an indirect but sure sign of a poet. - -The reader is by this time well aware of Tolstoy's devotion to music. -Though it was at times crowded out of his life by other interests, he -always returned to it with ardour when opportunity offered. Behrs tells -us that Tolstoy generally, when playing, chose serious music. - - He often sat down to the piano before beginning to work.... He - always accompanied my youngest sister [Tanya] and enjoyed her - singing very much. I noticed that the sensation music evoked in - him expressed itself by a slight pallor and a scarcely perceptible - grimace, suggestive of something like terror. Hardly a day passed - in summer without my sister singing and without the piano being - played. Occasionally we all sang together, and he always played the - accompaniments. - -As Tolstoy's spiritual crisis approached, the attraction of music -for him seemed to increase, and it was about this period, that is to -say in December 1876, that he made acquaintance with the composer -P. I. Tschaikovsky, who had held the post of Director of the Moscow -Conservatoire, the first seeds of which Tolstoy had helped to plant -nearly twenty years before. - -Tschaikovsky had from his youth up been a devoted admirer of Tolstoy, -whose skill in reading the human heart appeared to him almost -superhuman. He was therefore highly gratified when Tolstoy of his own -accord sought his acquaintance. At first their personal intercourse did -not appear to lessen the composer's reverence for the author, for on -23rd December 1876 he wrote to a friend: - - Count L. N. Tolstoy spent some time here recently. He visited - me several times and spent two whole evenings with me. I am - tremendously flattered, and proud of the interest I have inspired - in him, and for my part am completely enchanted by his ideal - personality. - -Tschaikovsky induced Nicholas Rubinstein, then Director of the Moscow -Conservatoire, to arrange a musical evening solely for Tolstoy, and -at this concert, Rubinstein, Fitzenhagen, and Adolph Brodsky, who is -now Principal of the Manchester College of Music, were among the chief -performers. - -One of the pieces performed by a quartet was Tschaikovsky's 'Andante -in D Major,' which so affected Tolstoy that he wept. 'Never, perhaps, -in my life,' says Tschaikovsky, 'was I so flattered, or my vanity as a -composer so touched, as when Leo Nikolayevitch, sitting next to me and -listening to the quartet performing my Andante, burst into tears.' - -After Tolstoy had returned to Yasnaya he wrote to Tschaikovsky, sending -him a collection of folk-songs, and saying: - - I send you the songs, dear Peter Ilyitch. I have again looked them - through. They will be a wonderful treasure in your hands. But for - God's sake work them up and use them in a Mozart-Haydn style, and - not in a Beethoven-Schumann-Berlioz, artificial way, seeking the - unexpected. How much I left unsaid to you. I really said nothing - of what I wanted to say. There was no time. I was enjoying myself. - This last stay of mine in Moscow will remain one of the best of my - reminiscences. Never have I received so precious a reward for my - literary labours as on that wonderful evening. - -Tschaikovsky replied: - - Count, I am sincerely grateful to you for sending the songs. I must - tell you candidly that they have been taken down by an unskilful - hand, and bear only traces of their pristine beauty. The chief - defect is that they have been artificially squeezed and forced into - a regular, measured form. Only Russian dance music has a rhythm and - a regular and equally accentuated beat; but folk-ballads have of - course nothing in common with dance songs. Moreover, most of these - songs are, arbitrarily it seems, written in a solemn D Major, which - again does not suit a real Russian song, which almost always has an - indefinite tonality approximating nearest of all to ancient Church - music. In general, the songs you have sent me cannot be worked up - in a regular and systematic way: that is to say, one cannot make a - collection of them, because for that they would have to be taken - down as nearly as possible in the way in which the people perform - them. That is an extremely difficult matter, demanding fine musical - feeling and great historico-musical erudition. Except Balakiref, - and to some extent Prokounin, I do not know any one competent for - the task. But as material for symphonic treatment, your songs can - be of use, and are even very good material, which I certainly will - avail myself of in one way or other. - -It is rather disappointing to find that the intercourse between these -two men, each so great in his own way, and each such an admirer of the -other's genius, was not continued. - -Tschaikovsky's expectations had been pitched too high, and he felt a -certain disappointment that his 'demigod' was, after all, but human. He -had dreaded to meet the novelist lest the latter should penetrate the -secret recesses of his soul; but, says Tschaikovsky: - - He who in his writings was the deepest of heart-seers, proved in - personal contact to be a man of simple, whole, and frank nature, - showing very little of the omniscience I had feared.... It was - plain he did not at all regard me as a subject for his observation, - but simply wanted to chat about music, in which he was then - interested. He took a pleasure in denying Beethoven, and plainly - expressed doubts of his genius. This was a trait not at all worthy - of a great man. To pull down a universally acknowledged genius to - the level of one's own intelligence, is characteristic of small - people. - -Feeling thus, Tschaikovsky purposely avoided meeting Tolstoy again, and -even took a temporary aversion to _Anna Karenina_, though eventually he -returned to his former admiration of Tolstoy's novels. - -Tschaikovsky was not aware of the reasons Tolstoy had for the -unorthodox position he held on art generally and music in particular: -reasons which it will be more in place to deal with later on, and which -I have in fact already treated of at some length in a previous work, -_Tolstoy and his Problems_. Here let it suffice to say that there -is plenty of evidence to show that Tolstoy can enjoy Beethoven, and -enjoy even the works of Beethoven's last period, which are the ones he -criticises. There is, for instance, the episode with Mlle. Oberlender, -which will be recounted later on, and we have his own statement in -_What is Art?_: - - I should mention that whatever other people understand of the - productions of Beethoven's later period, I, being very susceptible - to music, equally understand. For a long time I used to attune - myself so as to delight in those shapeless improvisations which - form the subject-matter of the works of Beethoven's later period; - but I had only to consider the question of art seriously, and to - compare the impression I received from Beethoven's later works with - those pleasant, clear, and strong musical impressions which are - transmitted, for instance, by the melodies of Bach (his arias), - Haydn, Mozart, Chopin (when his melodies are not overloaded with - complications and ornamentation), and of Beethoven himself in his - earlier period, and above all, with the impressions produced by - folk-songs,--Italian, Norwegian, or Russian,--by the Hungarian - _tzardas_, and other such simple, clear, and powerful music, and - the obscure, almost unhealthy excitement from Beethoven's later - pieces that I had artificially evoked in myself was destroyed. - -His work among peasant children has convinced him that the normal human -being possesses capacities for the enjoyment of art; and that in most -unexpected places the capacity to produce admirable art is now lying -latent. That is why he sets up Brevity, Simplicity, and Sincerity -as the criterions of art, and why he believes that folk-tales and -folk-songs and folk-dances, the Gospel parables, such Old Testament -stories as the history of Joseph, the Arabian Nights and the Christmas -Carol; and music such as the _tzardas_, the _Swanee River_, the _Old -Hundredth_, and Bach's arias, are infinitely more important to the life -and well-being of humanity than _King Lear_ or the _Ninth Symphony_. - -Tolstoy--who had boasted of not reading newspapers, and who had lived -so detached from politics and the events of contemporary history--began -at this time to feel keenly interested in a question closely connected -with Russia's foreign policy. - -Following the insurrection in Herzegovina, another had broken -out in Bulgaria in May 1876, but had been quickly suppressed by -the Turks, who burnt some sixty-five villages; the Bashi-Bazouks -committing unspeakable atrocities on the defenceless inhabitants. At -the commencement of July, Servia and Montenegro declared war against -Turkey; but, in spite of help rendered by numerous Russian volunteers, -they were soon crushed by the Turks, and would have been completely -at their mercy had not Russia, on 31st October, issued an ultimatum -demanding an armistice, which Turkey conceded. On 10th November -Alexander II made a speech in the Moscow Kremlin, in which he declared -that he would act independently of the other powers unless satisfactory -guarantees of reform were obtained forthwith from the Sultan. These -events gradually led to the war which broke out between Russia and -Turkey in April 1877. - -Before this, however, in the letter of 13th November 1876, already -quoted, Tolstoy wrote to Fet: - - I went to Moscow to hear about the war. This whole affair agitates - me greatly. It is well for those to whom it is clear; but I am - frightened when I begin to reflect on all the complexity of the - conditions amid which history is made, and how some Madame A.--with - her vanity--becomes an indispensable cog in the whole machine! - -The Russo-Turkish imbroglio led, early in 1877, to a split between -Tolstoy and Katkof. Tolstoy, at bottom and in his own original way, -was certainly a reformer; and his alliance with Katkof, who was quite -reactionary, had always been rather like the yoking of an ox with an -ass. At this time Katkof was ardent for the liberation of the Slavs -from Turkish tyranny, laudatory of those who volunteered for the war, -and eager for the aggrandisement of Russia. Tolstoy, with his knowledge -of the realities of war and his insight into the motives that actuate -the men who fight, had his doubts about the heroic and self-sacrificing -character of the volunteers and the purity of the patriotism of the -press; and he expressed these doubts very plainly in some of the -concluding chapters of _Anna Karenina_: as, for instance, where he -makes Levin say of 'the unanimity of the press': - - 'That's been explained to me: as soon as there's a war their - incomes are doubled. So how can they help believing in the - destinies of the people and the Slavonic races ... and all the rest - of it?' - -The result was that when the final chapters of the novel were appearing -in the _Russian Messenger_ during the first months of 1877, Katkof -returned some of the MS. to Tolstoy with numerous corrections and a -letter saying that he could not print it unless his corrections were -accepted. - -Tolstoy was furious that a journalist should dare to alter a single -word in his book, and in reply sent a sharp letter to Katkof, which -resulted in a rupture. Tolstoy issued the last part of _Anna Karenina_ -separately in book form and not in the magazine, besides, of course, -issuing the whole work in book form, as usual; and, in the May number -of his _Russian Messenger_, Katkof had to wind up the story as best he -could, by giving a brief summary of the concluding part. - -These events throw light on the following letter to Fet: - - _23 March 1877._ - - You can't imagine how glad I am to have your approval of my - writings, dear Afanasy Afanasyevitch, and in general to receive - your letter. You write that the _Russian Messenger_ has printed - some one else's poem, while your _Temptation_ lies waiting. It is - the dullest and deadest editorial office in existence. They have - become terribly repulsive to me, not on my own account, but for the - sake of others.... - - My head is now better, but as it gets better it has to work that - much harder. March and the beginning of April are the months when I - work most, and I still continue to be under the delusion that what - I am writing is very important, though I know that in a month's - time I shall be ashamed to remember that I thought so. Have you - noticed that a new line has now been started, and that everybody is - writing poetry: very bad poetry, but they all do it. Some five new - poets have introduced themselves to me lately. - -The dislike Tolstoy felt of the artificially stimulated war fever -(though, to do Katkof and his friends justice, one must admit that no -European Power during the last fifty years has had more justification -for war than Russia had for intervening in defence of the Slav -population of Turkey) was connected with the religious impulse that was -beginning to reshape his whole life; but it does not appear that he -actually disapproved of the war after Russia had officially commenced -it. What he primarily objected to was, that private individuals should -push the Government into a war. - -An influence which has left its traces in the latter part of _Anna -Karenina_ (particularly Part VII, Chap. 21) was Tolstoy's intercourse, -about this time, with some of the most prominent followers of Lord -Radstock, who frequently visited Russia and obtained considerable -influence with a number of people in certain aristocratic Petersburg -circles. One of these people, Count A. P. Bobrinsky, who had been -Minister of Ways of Communication, made Tolstoy's acquaintance and had -animated religious discussions with him. Both Bobrinsky and Colonel -Pashkof (another very prominent Radstockite) for a while cherished -hopes of winning Tolstoy over to Evangelical Christianity, and making -him the spokesman of their cause. Tolstoy, as the event proved, was -quite capable of throwing himself whole-heartedly into a religious -movement; but he needed a faith much more clear-cut than the scheme -of Redemption by the blood of Jesus: one that faced the facts of -life, dealt explicitly with the bread-and-butter problem, and told -men how to regard the fact that some people have to overtax their -strength without ever reaching an assured maintenance, while others -have a superabundance provided for them from their birth without ever -needing to do a stroke of work. His profound contempt for Evangelical -doctrines flashed out twenty years later, in the 17th Chapter of Book -II of _Resurrection_. - -It was a little before this that Fet told Tolstoy the following story. -Sauntering in a churchyard, he had come upon an inscription which -touched him more than any epitaph he had ever read. The tombstone was -in the form of an obelisk of plain grey sandstone. On one of its four -sides were deeply cut the words: - - _Here is buried the body of the peasant girl Mary_; - -on another side: - - _Here also is buried an infant of the female sex_. - -On the side opposite the name of the deceased stood these words -ill-spelt: - - _This, my dear, is the last adornment I can give thee_; - -and below stood the name of - - _Retired non-commissioned officer So-and-so_. - -In his next letter Tolstoy writes: - - _18 October 1876._ - - _This, my dear, is the last adornment I can give thee_ is charming! - I have told it twice, and each time my voice has broken with tears. - - -1877 - -In Tolstoy's next letter to Fet, dated 11th January, we get a glimpse -of one of the reasons that led this strenuous worker to prefer a -country life: - - DEAR AFANASY AFANASYEVITCH,--One does not strike or cut off - the head that owns its fault! I confess that I am quite at - fault towards you. But truly, in Moscow I am in a condition of - irresponsibility; my nerves are out of order, the hours turn to - minutes, and as though on purpose, the people I do not want turn up - and prevent my seeing those whom I do want. - -Among the people whom in his search for truth Tolstoy did want to know, -were some of the leading scientists of that day--a day when many men -thought that Darwin had opened the gateway to a knowledge which would -gradually solve the mysteries of life and death, the here and the -hereafter. The great literary fame Tolstoy now enjoyed made it an easy -matter to make such acquaintances. - -One of the scientists he got to know, was a celebrated professor of -Chemistry, A. M. Boutlerof, whom to his amazement he found to be much -concerned with table-turning and spiritualism; occupations Tolstoy held -in contempt. - -A letter to Fet, dated 14th April, gives some inkling of what was going -on in Tolstoy's mind at this time: - - I value every letter of yours, especially such as this last! You - would hardly believe how pleased I am at what you write 'On the - existence of the Deity.' I agree with it all, and should like to - say much about it, but cannot in a letter, and am too busy. It is - the first time you have spoken to me about the Deity--God. And I - have long been thinking unceasingly about that chief problem. Do - not say that one cannot think about it! One not only can, but must! - In all ages the best, the real people, have thought about it. And - if we cannot think of it as they did, we must find out _how_. Have - you read _Pensees de Pascal_--_i.e._ have you read it recently with - a mature head-piece? When (which God grant) you come to see me, we - will talk of many things, and I will give you that book. Were I - free from my novel--of which the end is already in type and I am - correcting the proofs--I would at once on receipt of your letter - have come to you. - -In the middle of this summer Tolstoy, bringing with him N. Strahof, -paid Fet an unexpected visit. The latter had at this time engaged -as governess a Mlle. Oberlender, an excellent pianist, and in his -_Recollections_ he tells us that on this visit: - - The Count, a sensitive esthete by nature, was greatly taken by the - piano playing of Mlle. Oberlender. He sat down to play duets with - her, and they played through almost the whole of Beethoven. - -Fet quotes Tolstoy's comment on the lady's performance: - - 'When we were young, such pianists travelled across Europe giving - concerts. She reads any piece of music as you read poetry, finding - just the suitable expression for each note.' - -Towards the end of July, Tolstoy, accompanied by N. Strahof, visited -for the first time the Monastery of Optin, which is situated in -the Kalouga Government, and is about 135 miles to the west of -Yasnaya. A very prominent figure in the monastic world at that time -was the _Staretz_ Father Ambrose, with whom Tolstoy had some long -conversations. Among others whose acquaintance Tolstoy made there, -was a monk who had formerly been an officer in the Horse Guards. One -of the most important of the works Tolstoy left for publication after -his death, is a remarkable novel called _Father Sergius_, the hero of -which is a man of the world who becomes a monk, acquires a reputation -for sanctity, and then yields to temptation and ends as an outcast. -His visits to the Optin Monastery, which were repeated three times, -supplied Tolstoy with material which many years later he utilised in -that work. - -At Optin, Tolstoy had met his friend Prince Obolensky, to whom on his -return journey he paid a visit at the latter's estate of Beryosino. -Here he renewed acquaintance with N. Rubinstein, who was staying with -Obolensky, and whose pianoforte playing he enjoyed intensely. - -A visit which much interested Tolstoy was paid him about this time by -an itinerant story-teller, expert in folk-lore, wielding beautifully -the simple language of the people, such as Tolstoy loves and has -utilised in his stories. He took down in writing some of this -traveller's tales, and from them subsequently worked up into literary -form _What Men Live By_, _The Three Hermits_ (included in _Twenty-three -Tales_), and some others. The root idea of _What Men Live By_ is that -of an angel sent by God to do penance on earth for a well-intentioned -act of disobedience. It seems that it is one of the most widely -disseminated of the world's legends, appearing and reappearing in the -literature of many countries through many centuries. - -In the latter part of 1877 a number of Turkish prisoners of war were -located in an abandoned sugar-factory between Toula and Yasnaya. -Tolstoy visited them there, and found that they were fairly well -treated. Being himself greatly concerned about religion, he naturally -talked to them on that subject, and was much impressed when he found -that each of them had a copy of the Koran in his kit. - -On 6th December another son, Andrew (Andrey), was born. - -All through this year, amid bustle and activity of various kinds, -spiritual problems continued to torment Tolstoy, and his physical -health began to show signs of the strain. Here is a note to Fet, dated -2nd September: - - Just now I am constantly out hunting and am busy arranging how to - place our educational staff for the winter. I have been to Moscow - looking for a teacher and a tutor. To-day I feel quite ill. - - -1878 - -Nor did matters improve as the months went on, for on 27th January he -again writes: - - Most unfortunately your suppositions, dear Afanasy Afanasyevitch, - are wrong. Not only am I not at work, but the reason I failed to - answer you was because I have been ill all this time. Lately I have - even been in bed for some days. A chill in various forms: teeth and - side, and the result is that time goes by--my best time--and I do - no work. - -Then follows a touch showing how, in many matters, his wife's mind was -still attuned to his own, though she was not sharing his spiritual -struggles, and in the matter of the education of the children there was -already some disagreement between them: - - On reading it I said to my wife, 'Fet's poem is charming, but there - is one word that is wrong.' She was nursing and bustling about at - the time; but at tea, having quieted down, she took up the poem - to read, and at once pointed out the words 'as the Gods'--which I - considered bad. - -On 25th March 1878 he writes to Fet: - - Last week, after seventeen years' absence, I went to Petersburg to - purchase some land in Samara from General B.... - - There I met a pair of Orlof Generals who made me shudder: it was - just as though one were standing between two sets of rails with - goods trains passing. To enter into the minds of these Generals, I - had to recall the rare days of drunkenness I have experienced, or - the days of my very earliest childhood. - -After completing _Anna Karenina_ Tolstoy again took up _The -Decembrists_, which he had put aside in favour of _War and Peace_ -fourteen years before. As already mentioned, a second cousin of -Tolstoy's mother, Prince S. G. Volkonsky, had been a prominent -Decembrist; and Tolstoy had at his disposal a number of family diaries -and journals throwing much light on the subject of that conspiracy. -While in Petersburg he made personal acquaintance with some of the -survivors of the movement, and also applied to the Commandant of the -Petropavlof Fortress--who happened to be an officer under whom he had -served in the Crimea--for permission to see the Alexis dungeons, in -which the Decembrists had been confined. The Commandant received him -very politely, allowed him to see over other parts of the fortress, -but told him that, though any one could enter the dungeons, only three -persons in the whole Empire--the Emperor, the Commandant, and the Chief -of the Gendarmes--having once entered them, could again leave them. - -Finally, after writing three fragments of it, Tolstoy abandoned this -novel, to which he had devoted much time. The subject was one he could -hardly have dealt with frankly without getting into trouble with the -Censor; and he had been refused permission to study the State Archives; -but in the following passage Behrs gives another, and a curiously -characteristic, reason for Tolstoy's decision: - - He affirmed that the Decembrist insurrection was a result of the - influence of French nobles, a large number of whom had emigrated - to Russia after the French Revolution. As tutors in aristocratic - families, they educated the whole Russian nobility, which explains - the fact that many of the Decembrists were Catholics. The belief - that the movement was due to foreign influence, and was not a - purely national one, sufficed to prevent Tolstoy from sympathising - with it. - -Another letter to Fet again shows the direction in which Tolstoy's mind -was working: - - _6 April 1878._ - - I have received your delightful and long letter, dear Afanasy - Afanasyevitch. Do not praise me. Really you see in me too much - good, and in others too much bad. One thing in me is good: that - I understand you and therefore love you. But though I love you - as you are, I am always angry with you for this, that 'Martha is - anxious about many things; but one thing is needful.' And in you - that one thing is very strong, but somehow you disdain it and are - more concerned about arranging a billiard room. Don't suppose - that I refer to poems: though I expect them to come too! But it - is not of them I speak; they will come in spite of the billiards; - I am speaking of a conception of the world which would make it - unnecessary to be angry at the stupidity of mortals. Were you and - I to be pounded together in a mortar and moulded into two people, - we should make a capital pair. But at present you are so attached - to the things of this life, that should they some day fail you, it - will go hard with you; while I am so indifferent to them, that life - becomes uninteresting, and I depress others by an eternal pouring - 'from void into vacuum'! Do not suppose that I have gone mad; I am - merely out of sorts, but hope you will love me though I be black. - -The prolonged mental struggle through which Tolstoy passed with great -suffering during the years 1874-78, was quite evident to those about -him, at least from 1876 onward. Not merely did he go regularly to -church, and shut himself up in his study morning and evening to pray, -but his former high spirits subsided, and his desire to become meek and -humble was plainly noticeable. One result of his altered attitude was, -that he felt keenly that it was wrong to have an enemy. Accordingly he -wrote Tourgenef to that effect, and held out to him the right hand of -friendship. - -To this Tourgenef replied: - - PARIS, _8 May 1878_. - - DEAR LEO NIKOLAYEVITCH,--I only to-day received your letter, - addressed _poste-restante_. It gladdened and touched me very much. - With the greatest readiness will I renew our former friendship, and - I warmly press the hand you hold out to me. You are quite right in - supposing me to have no hostile feelings towards you. If ever they - existed they have long since disappeared, and the recollection of - you only remains as of a man to whom I am sincerely attached, and - of a writer whose first steps it was my good fortune to be the - first to hail, and each new work from whom has always aroused in me - the liveliest interest. I am heartily glad of the cessation of the - misunderstandings that arose between us. - - I hope this summer to be in the Government of Orlof, and in that - case we shall of course see one another. Till then, I wish you all - that is good, and once more press your hand in friendship. - -On 13th June, on the point of starting for Samara with the elder -children and their tutor, Tolstoy writes to Fet: - - I have seldom so enjoyed a summer as this year, but a week ago I - caught cold and fell ill, and only to-day have I come to life again. - -Somewhat later in the summer the Countess, with the younger children, -joined her husband in Samara. - -Hardly were the Tolstoys back from Samara before Tourgenef wrote from -Moscow that he would be in Toula on the following Monday, 7th August. -Tolstoy, accompanied by his brother-in-law, drove thither to meet him, -and brought him to Yasnaya, where he passed a couple of days. Both -writers were delighted to feel that their seventeen-year disagreement -was ended; and the Countess, who when a girl had known Tourgenef well, -was equally pleased to welcome him to the house. - -A lady who was there at the time, tells us that the two writers spent -much of their time in philosophic and religious conversation in -Tolstoy's study, but: - - When they came out into the sitting-room their conversation became - general and took a different turn. Tourgenef told with pleasure - of the villa Bougival which he had just bought near Paris, and of - its comfort and arrangements, saying, 'We have built a charming - conservatory, costing ten thousand francs,' and 'we' did so-and-so - and so-and-so, meaning by 'we,' the Viardot family and himself. - - 'Of an evening we often play _vint_ [a game similar to bridge]--do - you?' he asked Tolstoy. - - 'No, we never play cards,' replied the Count, and turned the - conversation to another topic. - - Knowing that he was fond of chess, the Countess Tolstoy asked him - to play a game with her eldest son, a lad of fifteen, saying, 'He - will all his life remember having played with Tourgenef.' - - Tourgenef condescendingly agreed, and began a game, while - continuing to talk to us. - - 'In Paris I often used to play chess and was considered a good - player. They called me _le chevalier de pion_. I am fond of - pawns.... Do you know the new phrase now in fashion among the - French--_vieux jeu_? Whatever you say, a Frenchman replies, "_Vieux - jeu!_"' - - 'Eh! but one must not joke with you,' he exclaimed suddenly, - turning to his youthful opponent. 'You have all but done for me.' - - And he began to play carefully, and only won the game with - difficulty, for young Tolstoy really played chess excellently. - - At evening tea Tourgenef told how he had played the part of a - satyr at M^{me} Viardot's private theatricals, and how some of - the audience had gazed at him with amazement. We knew that he - had himself written the piece (a sort of operetta) for those - theatricals, and knew also that Russians, both abroad and at home, - disapproved of his playing the fool for M^{me} Viardot's amusement; - and we all felt uncomfortable. In telling it he seemed to be trying - to justify himself, but he soon passed on to another theme, and we - breathed more freely. - - He had the gift of words and spoke readily and smoothly, but seemed - to prefer narrating to conversing. He told us of his confinement in - the Hauptwerk of the Spassky Police-station in Petersburg, for his - article on the death of Gogol, and he described how dull it was.... - - Tolstoy also narrated, and I liked his stories better: they were - more strongly sketched, often humorous, and always original. In - them much was simple, unexpected and touching.... I. S. Aksakof - used to say, with reference to Tolstoy's gigantic power, that he - had 'a bear-like talent,' but I will add that his soul is as meek - 'as a dove,' and as enthusiastic as a youth; and that the union of - those two qualities explains the new direction he has since taken, - a direction which so distressed Tourgenef. - - An hour before midnight Tourgenef rose. - - 'It is time for me to go to the station,' said he. - - We all rose. The railway station was one-and-a-half miles away, and - Count Leo Nikolayevitch drove with him, to see him off. - -Behrs also writes of the same visit: - - At dinner Tourgenef told many stories, and to the delight of the - younger folk mimicked not only persons, but animals also. Thus, - placing one hand under the other, he depicted a fowl waddling in - the soup, and then imitated a hunting dog at a loss. As I listened - to him and watched his tricks I couldn't help thinking that he - evidently inherited something of the talent for which one of his - ancestors under Peter the Great enjoyed no little fame. - -This was the last summer Behrs, now a young man of twenty-three, passed -with Tolstoy before taking up official work in the Caucasus. His -evidence fully supports that of others who have seen Tolstoy in contact -with children, peasants or native races: to all of these Tolstoy -extends his charm of comprehension, consideration, and sympathy. - -Whenever Tolstoy went out with his gun and his dogs, Behrs used to -accompany him; and together they would ride twenty-four miles from -Yasnaya to visit Count Sergius Tolstoy at Pirogovo. Leo Tolstoy took -his brother-in-law on these visits, Behrs says, 'for my sake, if not -for his own, since he knew what pleasure it gave me to be with him.' -The remark he made when he heard that Behrs had obtained an official -appointment in the Caucasus is characteristic: 'You are too late -for the Caucasus. The whole country already stinks of officials.' -Characteristic too of the feeling Tolstoy inspires among those who know -him most intimately, is Behrs's concluding remark: 'I at least am aware -of nothing in his life that needs to be concealed.' - -At the beginning of September Tourgenef, on his return from his estate, -again visited Yasnaya, but he arrived at an unfortunate time, when -there was illness in the house, and he paid but a short visit. - -One sees by a letter to Fet on 5th September that Tolstoy still found -himself unable to be quite intimate with his fellow novelist: - - Tourgenef on his return journey came to see us and was glad to - receive your letter. He is still the same, and we know the degree - of nearness possible between us. - - I have a terrible desire to write something, but feel a depressing - doubt whether this is a false or a true appetite. - -The last sentence must refer to the _Confession_, most of which was not -written till the next year. - -In October he again wrote to Fet: - - I do not know how or in what spirit to begin to write to you, dear - Afanasy Afanasyevitch; any way, there are no words for it but, - 'I am to blame, I am to blame, and I am altogether to blame!' - Though it is always superfluous for apologisers to explain their - reasons, I will yet write mine because they are true and explain - my condition. For a month past, if not more, I have been living - amid the fumes not of external occurrences (on the contrary we - are by ourselves, living quietly) but of what is going on inside: - something I know not how to name. I go out shooting, read, reply to - questions put to me, eat, and sleep, but can do nothing, not even - write a letter, a score of which have collected. - -Apparently while in bad spirits, he wrote to Tourgenef asking him not -to refer to his (Tolstoy's) writings--for the latter replies on 15th -October, saying: 'I am glad you are all physically well, and hope the -"mental sickness" of which you write has now passed.' He then continues: - - Although you ask me not to speak of your writings, I must still - remark that it has never happened to me to laugh at you 'even a - little.' Some of your things pleased me very much; others did - not please me at all; while others again, such as _The Cossacks_ - for instance, afforded me great pleasure and excited my wonder. - But what ground was there for laughter? I thought you had long - since got rid of such 'reflexive' feelings. Why are they current - only among authors, and not among musicians, painters, and other - artists? Probably because in literary work more of that part of the - soul is exposed, which it is not quite convenient to show. But at - our (already mature) age as authors, it is time we were accustomed - to it. - -This displeased Tolstoy, who in his next letter to Fet expressed his -vexation with Tourgenef who, I imagine, had not intended to give -offence: - - _22 November 1878._ - - DEAR AFANASY AFANASYEVITCH,--I will go to Moscow and have 'I am to - blame' printed on my notepaper. But I don't think I am to blame for - not replying to the letter in which you promised to come and see - us. I remember my joy at that news, and that I replied immediately. - If not, still please don't punish me, but come.... - - Yesterday I received a letter from Tourgenef; and do you know, I - have decided that it will be better to 'keep further away from him - and from sin' [A common Russian saying]. He is an unpleasant sort - of quarrel-maker. - - My congratulations to you on your birthday. I will not in future - omit to congratulate you on the 23rd, and hope not to forget it for - the next dozen times. That will be enough for either of us. _Au - revoir!_ - -Fet was destined to live four years beyond the span Tolstoy allotted -him, and Tolstoy himself is still with us, though more than thirty -years have passed since that letter was written; and what strenuous -years they have been! How he has wrestled with life's greatest -problems one after another, and how he has flung down before the world -his opinions (right, wrong, or motley) on dogmatic theology, Christ's -Christianity, religion in general, economic and social problems, -famine, the employment of violence, war, conscription, Government, -patriotism, the sex problem, art, science, food-reform and the use -of stimulants and narcotics, besides producing a series of simple -stories for the people, as well as more complex ones for the rest of -society, three plays, one great novel, and a stream of weighty and -interesting essays and letters which have poured forth from Yasnaya in -an increasing stream as the years went by; not to mention works kept -back for posthumous publication, at the mention of which the literary -world pricks up its ears! - -On 1st October 1878 Tourgenef wrote to Fet from Bougival, again saying -that he intended to translate _The Cossacks_ into French, and adding, -'It will give me great pleasure to assist in acquainting the French -public with the best story that has been written in our language.' - -In another letter from Bougival in December, he remarked: - - I was very glad to come together with Tolstoy, and I spent three - pleasant days with him; his whole family are very sympathetic, and - his wife is charming. He has grown very quiet and has matured. His - name begins to gain European celebrity: we Russians have long known - that he has no rivals. - -The course of the story has swept me a little past Tolstoy's fiftieth -birthday--the point at which I intended to close this first part of -my work. Besides giving some brief survey of his writings during his -first twenty-five years of authorship, all that now remains is to give -a summary of that remarkable work, his _Confession_, which shows us -vividly, though with some amount of involuntary artistic heightening, -what had been going on in his mind and soul from 1874 to 1879, the year -in which it was written. - -By way of brief preface to his _Confession_, it will be in place to -say a few words about two different tendencies which, each in its own -way, influenced Tolstoy. On the one hand there was the religious life -of the people, with all its Medieval traditions. Tolstoy had only to go -a short walk from his house to reach the highroad, on which pilgrims -going afoot to the shrines of the Saints could always be met; and he -had many a conversation with these pilgrims at the rest-house they -frequented. Among them there were many to whom the things of this world -were certainly less precious than obedience to the will of God as they -understood it; and Tolstoy's stories show us how closely he observed -these people, and how near some of them came to his soul. On the other -hand he was influenced by the quite modern and very remarkable movement -that was at this time beginning to make itself felt in Russia; a -movement having its roots in conditions of life which greatly disturbed -Tolstoy's own mind, and which took as one of its watchwords the motto -'Towards the People'--a sentiment quite in harmony with his own -attitude. - -In 1875 public attention was aroused by the trial of the Dolgoushin -group of propagandists; and the trial of 'The Moscow 50,' in March -1877, revealed the fact that a number of girls of wealthy families were -voluntarily leading the life of factory hands working fourteen hours -a day in over-crowded factories, that they might come into touch with -working people, to teach them, and to carry on a social and political -propaganda among them. Then followed the historic trial of 'The 193' in -1878. - -These and many other indications showed that in spite of the repressive -measures of the Government, a steadily increasing number of Russians -felt (what Tolstoy also felt strongly) that the existing order of -society results in the mass of the people having to live in conditions -of blighting ignorance and grinding poverty; while the parasitic -minority who live in plenty and sometimes in extravagant superfluity, -render no service at all equivalent to the cost of their maintenance. -The mere statement that those who had received an education thanks to -the work of the masses, owe service to the masses in return, sufficed -to rouse to action some of the young men and women of that day. They -left their wealthy homes, lived the simplest lives, ran fearful risks, -and according to their lights--sometimes not very clear ones--devoted -themselves to the service of the people. - -While this was going on around him, a man with such a temperament as -Tolstoy's, could not be at rest. - -Already in 1875 Mihaylovsky had published a remarkable series of -articles on _The Right and Left Hand of Count Tolstoy_, in which he -pointed out that that author's works reveal the clash of contrary -ideals and tendencies in the writer's soul, and that especially his -educational articles contain ideas quite in conflict with certain -tendencies noticeable in _War and Peace_. With remarkable prevision -Mihaylovsky predicted an inevitable crisis in Tolstoy's life, and added: - - One asks oneself what such a man is to do, and how he is to - live?... I think an ordinary man in such a position would end by - suicide or drunkenness; but a man of worth will seek for other - issues--and of these there are several. - -One of these he suggested would be, to write for the people (Tolstoy's -_Readers_ had already been published) or to write so as to remind -'Society' that its pleasures and amusements are not those of the mass -of mankind, and thus to arouse the latent feelings of justice in some -who now forget the debt they owe to their fellows. - -In fact, the trial of 'The 193' or the movement from which it arose, -had a vital, though indirect, influence on Tolstoy, who at this time -had engaged V. I. Alexeyef, a graduate of Petersburg University, -as mathematical master for his son. Alexeyef had been a member of -the Tchaykovsky group which carried on an educational propaganda in -elementary Socialism in the early '70's. The activities of this group -were so restricted, and they were so hampered by the police, that some -of its members, feeling a need of freer activity, migrated to Kansas, -where for two years they carried on an agricultural colony. Dissensions -arose among them, and their experiment failed. Alexeyef returned to -Russia; Tchaykovsky settled in England, where he spent many years, and -only returned to Russia after the amnesty of 1905, to be again arrested -and to spend more than a year in prison awaiting a trial which ended in -his acquittal. Tolstoy noticed that Alexeyef was a man who shaped his -life in accord with his beliefs, and he respected him accordingly, and -through him made acquaintance with some of the best representatives of -the immature Socialist movement then brewing in Russia. We have here a -remarkable example of the indirect way in which thoughts influence the -world. Auguste Comte wrote a philosophy. Having filtered through the -minds of G. H. Lewes and J. S. Mill, it reached Nicholas Tchaykovsky -when he was a schoolboy of fourteen in the Seventh Gymnasium in -Petersburg. 'It fascinated me to such an extent,' says he in the -reminiscences contributed to G. H. Perris's interesting book, _Russia -in Revolution_, 'that, while sitting in school, I longed to get back to -our lodgings and to my chosen reading. The more I progressed, the more -I was absorbed. This study powerfully affected my mind and systematised -my ideas.' A few years later Tchaykovsky, having read much meanwhile, -formed his group, which sowed the seeds of changes yet to come. -Progress, however, was very slow, and he felt 'the ineffectiveness of -ordinary political and socialistic propaganda among a deeply religious -peasantry, still hopeful of benefits from above.' This forced him to -reconsider the whole situation. 'I met,' adds he, 'some friends with -whom I began to work upon the rather Utopian idea of formulating a new -religion, and, for the sake of more effective experiment, we were soon -compelled to transfer ourselves with this stupendous mission, to the -steppes of Kansas.' - -Wishing to transform society, Tchaykovsky had seen the need of some -systematic outlook on life--'a new religion,' in fact. Dissatisfied -with his own outlook on life, Tolstoy was seeking a new religion, and -when he found it, it led him to demand great changes in society. The -mature novelist and the young propagandist, who have never met in the -flesh, had therefore much in common; though Tolstoy dislikes the works -of Comte and Mill, which had done so much for Tchaykovsky, and can -hardly speak of them with tolerance (except Mill's _Autobiography_, -which interests him). Detesting the methods of violence to which those -who succeeded Tchaykovsky felt themselves driven, Tolstoy could still -not doubt the sincerity of the faith that actuated most of them; for -they had all to lose and nothing to gain by joining the revolutionary -movement. Sophie Perovsky, one of 'the 193' (subsequently hanged in -Petersburg for taking part in the assassination of Alexander II), was -the daughter of the Governor-General of that city, and was a niece of -the Minister of Education. Demetrius Lisogoub, a landowner, devoted -his whole fortune of some L40,000 to the movement; and was hanged -in Odessa. Prince Peter Kropotkin risked his all to give lessons to -workmen; and escaped abroad, having lost position, fortune, and the -right to live in his native land. Tolstoy, an older man, with a strong -character and definite views of his own on many points, could not join -the Socialist movement, but that he was influenced by it is beyond -doubt. - -The state of Russian life was indeed such that men of sensitive -consciences could not be at rest (as, indeed, when and where in the -wide world can they?), and the work Tolstoy had already done, marked -him out as one in whose soul the struggle which was moving others, -would assuredly be fought out strenuously. No one however, and -certainly not he himself, as yet knew what effect that crisis would -have upon him, or what his course of life would be in the years that -were to come. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER X - -Besides books mentioned in last chapter, information relating to this -period is contained in a number of magazines and newspaper articles, of -which the following are the most important. - -On the Education dispute see: - -_Moskov. Eparhial. Ved._, October 1874. - -_Rousskiya Vedomosti_, 1894, No. 31. - -N. K. Mihaylovsky's _Zapiski Profana_, and E. Schuyler in _Rousskaya -Starina_, October 1870, and in _Scribner's Magazine_, May and June, -1889. - -About Samara Famine, etc., see: A. S. Prougavin in _Obrazovaniye_, Nov. -1902. - -On Tourgenef's visit to Yasnaya see: _Tobolskiya Goubern. Vedomosti_, -1893, No. 26. - -The _Rousskoye Obozreniye_, 1896, contains a letter from Tolstoy to Fet. - -The _Vestnik Evropy_, June 1904, contains M. Zaharina's _Vospominaniya -gr. A. A. Tolstaya_. - -_Zhisn P. I. Tschaikovskavo._ - -_Pervoe Sobranie pisem Tourgeneva, 1840-1883_; Petersburg, 1884. - -P. A. Sergeyenko in _Niva_, No. 8, 1906. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - CONFESSION - -What is the meaning of life? Thoughts of suicide. The traveller in the -well. Schopenhauer and Solomon. Four ways of meeting the problem. The -peasants' answer. The finite linked to the infinite. Faith essential. -Faiths that obscure. Why life seemed meaningless. The search for God. -The infallibility of the Church. Rites and prayers. Communion. The -lives of the Saints. The Orthodox and the Sectarians. War. The need to -unravel truth from error. - - -THIS chapter is a summary of Tolstoy's _Confession_,[54] or -'Introduction to a Criticism of Dogmatic Theology and to an -Investigation of the Christian Teachings,' as the Russian title ran, -from the first pages of which I have already quoted freely in the -preceding chapters. I have kept as much to Tolstoy's words as possible, -but having to condense, I have not only omitted much, but have also -paraphrased some passages to avoid repetition. The plan I have -adopted, since this is a _Life_ and not a theological treatise, has -been to cut down to a mere skeleton the abstract argument of Tolstoy's -_Confession_, while giving almost in full what he says about his own -experience. - - [54] It is strange that Tolstoy's _Confession_ has not - yet been put into English at all reproducing the vigorous - simplicity of the original. There is, I think, nothing better - than the threepenny edition issued by the _Free Age Press_ - under the title, _How I Came to Believe_; and on looking at - that to see if I could quote from it, I find that it is not - good enough. - -Many men, at the age of puberty, or at any rate while their minds were -still maturing, have experienced the change known as 'Conversion.' That -is to say, they have more or less suddenly turned round and looked at -life from a fresh point of view: what in their nature had been latent -or secondary has become dominant and primary, and things temporal and -material have become subordinate to things spiritual and eternal. - -What is unusual about the story of Tolstoy's conversion is that it came -so late in life and so gradually, and that the intellect played so -large a part in it. - -Some men take to religion at the prompting of the heart, others at the -prompting of the brain; and Tolstoy belongs to the latter category, -not from lack of heart, but because strong as are his emotions, his -intellectual power is stronger still. - -His _Confession_ was written in 1879, and in it he says: - -Five years ago something very strange began to happen to me: At first -I experienced moments of perplexity and arrest of life, as though I -did not know how to live or what to do; and I felt lost and became -dejected. But this passed, and I went on living as before. Then these -moments of perplexity began to recur oftener and oftener, and always in -the same form. They were always expressed by the questions: What's it -for? What does it lead to? - -At first it seemed to me that these were aimless and irrelevant -questions. I thought that it was all well known, and that if I should -ever wish to deal with the solution, it would not cost me much effort; -just at present I had no time for it, but when I wanted to I should -be able to find the answer. The questions, however, began to repeat -themselves frequently, and more and more insistently to demand replies; -and like drops of ink always falling on one place, they ran together -into one black blot. - -That occurred which happens to every one sickening with a mortal -internal disease. At first trivial signs of indisposition appear, to -which the sick man pays no attention; then these signs reappear more -and more often, and merge into one uninterrupted period of suffering. -The suffering increases, and before the sick man can look round, what -he took for a mere indisposition has already become more important to -him than anything else in the world--it is death! - -That was what happened to me. I understood that it was no casual -indisposition, but something very important, and that if these -questions constantly repeated themselves, it would be necessary to -answer them. And I tried to do so. The questions seemed such stupid -simple childish questions; but as soon as I touched them and tried to -solve them, I at once became convinced (1) that they are not childish -and stupid, but the most important and the deepest of life's questions; -and (2) that, try as I would, I could not solve them. Before occupying -myself with my Samara estate, the education of my son, or the writing -of a book, I had to know _why_ I was doing it. As long as I did not -know why, I could do nothing, and could not live. Amid the thoughts of -estate management which greatly occupied me at that time, the question -would suddenly occur to me: 'Well, you will have 16,000 acres of land -in Samara Government and 300 horses, and what next?'... And I was quite -disconcerted, and did not know what to think. Or, when considering -my plans for the education of my children, I would say to myself: -What for? Or when considering how the peasants might be prosperous, I -suddenly said to myself, 'But what business is it of mine?' Or when -thinking of the fame my works would bring me, I said to myself, 'Very -well: you will be more famous than Gogol or Poushkin or Shakespear or -Moliere, or than all the writers in the world--and what will it lead -to?' And I could find no reply at all. The questions would not wait, -they had to be answered at once, and if I did not answer them, it was -impossible to live. But there was no answer. - -I felt that what I had been standing on had broken down, and that I had -nothing left under my feet. What I had lived on, no longer existed; and -I had nothing left to live on. - -My life came to a standstill. I could breathe, eat, drink and sleep, -and I could not help doing these things; but there was no life, -for there were no wishes the fulfilment of which I could consider -reasonable.... Had a fairy come and offered to fulfil my desires, I -should not have known what to ask.... If in moments of intoxication I -felt something which I cannot call a wish, but a habit left by former -wishes, in sober moments I knew this to be a delusion, and that there -is really nothing to wish for. I could not even wish to know the -truth, for I guessed in what it consisted. The truth was that life is -meaningless. I had, as it were, lived, lived, and walked, walked, till -I had come to a precipice and saw clearly that there was nothing ahead -of me but destruction. It was impossible to stop, impossible to go -back, and impossible to close my eyes or avoid seeing that there was -nothing ahead but suffering and real death--complete annihilation. - -It had come to this, that I, a healthy, fortunate man, felt I could no -longer live: some irresistible power impelled me to rid myself one way -or other of life. I cannot say I _wished_ to kill myself. The power -which drew me away from life was stronger, fuller, and more widespread -than any mere wish. - -The thought of self-destruction now came to me as naturally as thoughts -of how to improve my life had come formerly. And it was so seductive -that I had to be wily with myself, lest I should carry it out too -hastily: 'If I cannot unravel matters, there will always be time.' -And it was then that I, a man favoured by fortune, hid a cord from -myself, lest I should hang myself from the crosspiece of the partition -in my room, where I undressed alone every evening; and I ceased to go -out shooting with a gun, lest I should be tempted by so easy a way of -ending my life. I did not myself know what I wanted: I feared life, -desired to escape from it; yet still hoped something of it. - -[Illustration: TOLSTOY'S LIBRARY. - -(FORMERLY HIS STUDY AND DRESSING-ROOM.) SHOWING THE WOODEN CROSS-PIECE -FROM WHICH HE WISHED TO HANG HIMSELF.] - -And all this befell me at a time when all around me I had what is -considered complete good fortune. I was not yet fifty; I had a good -wife who loved me and whom I loved; good children, and a large estate -which without much effort on my part improved and increased. I was -respected by my relations and acquaintances more than at any previous -time. I was praised by others, and without much self-deception could -consider that my name was famous. And far from being insane or -mentally unwell,--on the contrary I enjoyed a strength of mind and body -such as I have seldom met with among men of my kind: physically I could -keep up with the peasants at mowing, and mentally I could work for -eight to ten hours at a stretch without experiencing any ill results -from such exertion.... - -My mental condition presented itself to me in this way: my life -is a stupid and spiteful joke some one has played on me. Though I -did not acknowledge a 'some one' who created me, yet that form of -representation--that some one had played an evil and stupid joke on me -by placing me in the world--was the form of expression that suggested -itself most naturally to me. - -Involuntarily it appeared to me that there, somewhere, is some one -who amuses himself by watching how I live for thirty or forty years: -learning, developing, maturing in body and mind, and how--having now -with matured mental powers reached the summit of life, from which it -all lies before me, I stand on that summit--like an arch-fool--seeing -clearly that there is nothing in life, and that there has been and will -be nothing. And he is amused.... - -But whether that 'some one' laughing at me existed or not, I was none -the better off. I could give no reasonable meaning to any single -action, or to my whole life. I was only surprised that I could have -avoided understanding this from the very beginning--it has been so long -known to all. To-day or to-morrow sickness and death will come (they -have come already) to those I love or to me; nothing will remain but -stench and worms. Sooner or later my deeds, whatever they may have -been, will be forgotten, and I shall not exist. Then why go on making -any effort?... How can man fail to see this? And how go on living? -That is what is surprising! One can only live when one is intoxicated -with life; as soon as one is sober it is impossible not to see that it -is all a mere fraud and a stupid fraud! That is precisely what it is: -there is nothing either amusing or witty about it; it is simply cruel -and stupid. - -There is an Eastern fable, told long ago, of a traveller overtaken on -a plain by an enraged beast. Escaping from the beast he leaps into a -dry well, but sees at the bottom of the well a dragon that has opened -its jaws to swallow him. And the unfortunate man, not daring to climb -out lest he should be destroyed by the enraged beast, and not daring to -leap to the bottom of the well lest he should be eaten by the dragon, -seizes a twig growing in a crack in the well and clings to it. His -hands are growing weaker, and he feels he will soon have to resign -himself to the destruction that awaits him above or below; but still -he clings on; and he sees that two mice, a black and a white one, go -regularly round and round the stem of the twig to which he is clinging, -and gnaw at it. And soon the twig itself will snap and he will fall -into the dragon's jaws. The traveller sees this and knows that he will -inevitably perish; but while still hanging he looks around and finds -some drops of honey on the leaves of the twig and reaches them with his -tongue and licks them. So I too clung to the twig of life, knowing that -the dragon of death was inevitably awaiting me, ready to tear me to -pieces; and I could not understand why I had fallen into such torment. -I tried to lick the honey which formerly consoled me; but the honey no -longer gave me pleasure, and the white and black mice of day and night -gnawed at the branch by which I hung. I saw the dragon clearly, and the -honey no longer tasted sweet. And this is not a fable, but the real -unanswerable truth intelligible to all. - -The deception of the joys of life which formerly allayed my terror of -the dragon, now no longer deceives me. No matter how much I may be -told: 'You cannot understand the meaning of life, so do not think about -it, but live,' I can no longer do it: I have already done it too long. -I cannot now help seeing day and night going round and bringing me to -death. That is all I see, for that alone is true. All else is false. - -The two drops of honey which diverted my eyes from the cruel truth -longer than the rest: my love of family, and of writing--art as I -called it--were no longer sweet to me. - -Family ... said I to myself. But my family: wife and children--are also -human. They too are placed as I am: they must either live in a lie, or -see the terrible truth. Why should they live? Why should I love them, -guard them, bring them up, or watch them? That they may come to the -despair that I feel, or else be stupid? Loving them, I cannot hide the -truth from them: each step in knowledge leads them to that truth. And -the truth is death. - -'Art, poetry?'... Under the influence of success and the praise of men, -I had long assured myself that this was a thing one could do though -death was drawing near--death which destroys all things, including my -work and its remembrance; but I soon saw that that too was a fraud. -It was plain to me that art is an adornment to life, an allurement to -life. But life had lost its attraction for me; so how could I attract -others? As long as I was not living my own life, but was borne on -the waves of some other life--as long as I believed that life had a -meaning, though one I could not express--the reflection of life in -poetry and art of all kinds, afforded me pleasure: it was pleasant to -look at life in the mirror of art. But when I began to seek the meaning -of life, and felt the necessity of living on my own account, that -mirror became for me unnecessary, superfluous, ridiculous, or painful. -I could no longer soothe myself with what I saw in the mirror, for what -I saw was, that my position was stupid and desperate. It was all very -well to enjoy the sight when in the depth of my soul I believed that my -life had a meaning. Then the play of lights--comic, tragic, touching, -beautiful and terrible--in life, amused me. But when I knew life to be -meaningless and terrible, the play in the mirror could no longer amuse -me. No sweetness of honey could be sweet to me when I saw the dragon, -and saw the mice gnawing away my support. - -Nor was that all. Had I simply understood that life has no meaning, I -could have borne it quietly, knowing that that was my lot. But I could -not satisfy myself with that. Had I been like a man living in a wood -from which he knows there is no exit, I could have lived; but I was -like one lost in a wood who, horrified at having lost his way, rushes -about, wishing to find the road, yet knows that each step he takes -confuses him more and more; and still cannot help rushing about. - -It was indeed terrible. And to rid myself of the terror, I wished to -kill myself. I experienced terror at what awaited me--knew that that -terror was even worse than the position I was in; but still I could not -patiently await the end. However convincing the argument might be that, -in any case, some vessel in my heart would give way, or something would -burst and all would be over, I could not patiently await that end. The -horror of darkness was too great, and I wished to free myself from it -as quickly as possible by noose or bullet. That was the feeling which -drew me most strongly towards suicide. - - * * * * * - -'But perhaps I have overlooked something, or misunderstood something? -It cannot be that this condition of despair is natural to man!' thought -I, and as a perishing man seeks safety, I sought some way of escape. - -I sought everywhere; and thanks to a life spent in learning, and thanks -also to the relations I had with the scholarly world, I had access -to scientists and scholars in all branches of knowledge, and they -readily showed me all their knowledge, not only in books, but also in -conversation, so that I had at my disposal all that knowledge has to -say on this question of life.... - -The question which at the age of fifty brought me to the verge of -suicide, was the simplest of questions lying in the soul of every man, -from the foolish child to the wisest elder: it was a question without -answering which one cannot live, as I had found by experience. It was, -What will come of what I am doing to-day or shall do to-morrow--What -will come of my whole life? - -Differently expressed, the question is: Why should I live, why wish -for anything, or do anything? It can also be expressed thus: Is there -any meaning in life, that the inevitable death awaiting one, does not -destroy? All human knowledge I found divided into two kinds. One kind, -such as chemistry and mathematics and the exact sciences, did not deal -with my question. They were interesting, attractive, and wonderfully -definite, but made no attempt to solve the question; while on the other -hand the speculative sciences, culminating in metaphysics, dealt with -the question, but supplied no satisfactory answer. - -Where philosophy does not lose sight of the essential question, its -answer is always one and the same: an answer given by Socrates, -Schopenhauer, Solomon and Buddha. - -'We approach truth only inasmuch as we depart from life,' said Socrates -when preparing for death. 'For what do we who love truth, strive after -in life? To free ourselves from the body, and from all the evil that is -caused by the body! If so, then how can we fail to be glad when death -comes to us?' - -'The wise man seeks death all his life, and therefore does not fear -death.' - -And Schopenhauer also says that life is an evil; and Solomon (or -whoever wrote the works attributed to him) says: - -'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. What profit hath man of all his -labour under the sun?... There is no remembrance of former things, -neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come, with -those that shall come after.... - -'Therefore I hated life, because the work that is wrought under the sun -is grievous to me; for all is vanity and vexation of spirit.' - -And Sakya Muni when he learnt what age and sickness and death are, -could find no consolation in life, and decided that life is the -greatest of evils; and he devoted all the strength of his soul to free -himself from it, and to free others; and to do this so that even after -death life shall not be renewed any more, but be completely destroyed -at its very roots. So speaks all the wisdom of India. - -These then are the direct replies that human wisdom gives, when it -replies to the question of life: - -'The life of the body is an evil and a lie. Therefore the destruction -of the life of the body is a blessing, and we should desire it,' says -Socrates. - -'Life is that which should not be--an evil; and the passage into -Nothingness is the only good in life,' says Schopenhauer. - -'All that is in the world: folly and wisdom and riches and poverty and -mirth and grief--are vanity and emptiness. Man dies and nothing is left -of him. And that is stupid,' says Solomon. - -'To live in the consciousness of the inevitability of suffering, of -becoming enfeebled, of old age and of death, is impossible--we must -free ourselves from life, from all possible life,' says Buddha. - -And what these strong minds said, has been said and thought and felt by -millions upon millions of people like them. And I have thought it and -felt it. - -One cannot deceive oneself. It is all--vanity! Happy is he who has not -been born: death is better than life, and one must free oneself from -life. - -Then I began to consider the lives of the men of my own kind; and I -found that they met the problem in one or other of four ways. - -The first way was that of ignorance. Some people--mostly women, or very -young or very dull people--have not yet understood the question of -life; but I, having understood it, could not again shut my eyes. - -The second way was that of the Epicureans, expressed by Solomon when he -said: 'Then I commended mirth, because a man hath no better thing under -the sun, than to eat, and to drink, and to be merry.' - -That is the way in which the majority of people of our circle make -life possible for themselves. Their circumstances furnish them with -more of welfare than of hardship, and their moral dullness makes it -possible for them to forget that the advantage of their position is -an accidental advantage, and that not every one can have a thousand -wives and a thousand palaces like Solomon, and that for every man with -a thousand wives there are a thousand without wives, and that for each -palace there are a thousand people who have to build it in the sweat of -their brows; and that the accident that has to-day made me a Solomon, -may to-morrow make me Solomon's slave. The dullness of these people's -imaginations enables them to forget what gave no peace to Buddha--the -inevitability of sickness, age and death, which to-day or to-morrow -will destroy all these pleasures. I could not imitate these people: I -had not their dullness of imagination, and I could not artificially -produce it in myself. - -The third escape is that of strength and energy. It consists in -understanding that life is an evil and an absurdity, and in destroying -it. It is a way adopted by a few exceptionally strong and consistent -people. I saw that it was the worthiest way of escape, and I wished to -adopt it. - -The fourth escape is that of weakness. It consists in seeing the truth -of the situation, and yet clinging to life as though one still hoped -something from it; and I found myself in that category. - -To live like Solomon and Schopenhauer, knowing that life is a stupid -joke played upon us, and still to go on living: washing oneself, -dressing, dining, talking and even writing books, was to me repulsive -and tormenting, but I remained in that position. - -I now see that if I did not kill myself, it was due to some dim -consciousness of the invalidity of my thoughts. And I began to feel, -rather than argue, in this way: 'I, my reason, has acknowledged life -to be unreasonable. If there be no higher reason (and there is not: -nothing can prove that there is) then reason is the creator of life -for me. If reason did not exist, there would be for me no life. How -can reason deny life, when it is the creator of life? Or to put it the -other way: were there no life, my reason would not exist; therefore -reason is life's son. Life is all. Reason is its fruit, yet reason -denies life itself!' I felt that there was something wrong here. - -Nothing prevents our denying life by suicide. Well then, kill yourself, -and cease discussing. If life displeases you, kill yourself! You live, -and cannot understand the meaning of life--then finish it; and do not -fool about in life, saying and writing that you do not understand it. -You have come into good company, where people are contented and like -what they are doing: if you find it dull and repulsive--go away! - -Indeed, what are we who are convinced of the necessity of suicide yet -do not decide to commit it, but the weakest, most inconsistent, and -to put it plainly, the stupidest of men, fussing about with our own -stupidity as a fool fusses about with a painted hussy? - -'There is something wrong,' said I to myself; but what was wrong, I -could in no way make out. It was long before the fog began to clear, -and I began to be able to restate my position. - -It had seemed to me that the narrow circle of rich learned and leisured -people to whom I belonged, formed the whole of humanity, and that the -milliards of others who have lived and are living, were cattle of some -sort--not real people.... And it was long before it dawned upon me to -ask: 'But what meaning is, and has been, given to their lives by all -the milliards of common folk who live and have lived in the world?' - -I long lived in this state of lunacy, which in fact if not in words -is particularly characteristic of us Liberal and learned people. But -whether the strange physical affection I have for the real labouring -people compelled me to understand them and to see that they are not -so stupid as we suppose; or whether it was due to the sincerity of my -conviction that I could know nothing beyond the fact that the best I -could do was to hang myself, at any rate I instinctively felt that if -I wished to live and understand the meaning of life, I must seek this -meaning not among those who have lost it and wish to kill themselves, -but among those milliards of the past and the present who know it, and -who support the burden of their own lives and of ours also. - -And on examining the matter I saw that the milliards of mankind always -have had and still have a knowledge of the meaning of life, but _that_ -knowledge is their faith, which I could not but reject. 'It is God, one -and three, the creation in six days, the devils and angels, and all the -rest that I cannot accept as long as I retain my reason,' said I to -myself. - -My position was terrible. I knew I could find nothing along the path -of reasonable knowledge, except a denial of life; and in faith I could -find nothing but a denial of reason, still more impossible to me than a -denial of life. - -Finally I saw that my mistake lay in ever expecting an examination of -finite things to supply a meaning to life. The finite has no ultimate -meaning apart from the infinite. The two must be linked together before -an answer to life's problems can be reached. - -It had only appeared to me that knowledge gave a definite -answer--Schopenhauer's answer: that life has no meaning, and is an -evil. On examining the matter further, I understood that the reply is -not positive: it was only my feeling that made it seem so. The reply, -strictly expressed as the Brahmins and Solomon and Schopenhauer express -it, amounts only to an indefinite answer, like the reply given in -mathematics when instead of solving an equation we find we have solved -an identity: X = X, or 0 = 0. The answer is, that life is nothing. -So that philosophic knowledge merely asserts that it cannot solve -the question, and the solution remains, as far as it is concerned, -indefinite. And I understood, further, that however unreasonable -and monstrous might be the replies given by faith, they had this -advantage, that they introduce into each reply a relation between the -finite and the infinite, without which relation no reply is possible. - -Whichever way I put the question, that relation appeared in the answer. -How am I to live?--According to the law of God. What real result will -come of my life?--Eternal torment or eternal bliss. What meaning has -life, that death does not destroy?--Union with the eternal God: heaven. - -Faith still remained to me as irrational as it was before, but I could -not but admit that it alone gives mankind a reply to the questions of -life; and that consequently it makes life possible. - -Where there is life, there, since man began, faith has made life -possible for him; and the chief outline of that faith is everywhere -and always one and the same. Faith does not consist in agreeing with -what some one has said, as is usually supposed; faith is a knowledge of -the meaning of human life in consequence of which man does not destroy -himself, but lives. Faith is the strength of life. If a man lives he -believes in something. If he does not see and recognise the visionary -nature of the finite, then he believes in the finite; if he understands -the visionary nature of the finite, he must believe in the infinite. -Without faith he cannot live. - - * * * * * - -What am I?--A part of the infinite. In those few words lies the whole -problem. - -I began dimly to understand that in the replies given by faith, is -stored up the deepest human wisdom. - -I understood this; but it made matters no better for me. - -I was now ready to accept any faith, if only it did not demand of me -a direct denial of reason--which would be a falsehood. And I studied -Buddhism and Mohammedanism from books, and most of all, I studied -Christianity both from books and from living people. - -Naturally I first of all turned to the Orthodox of my circle, to -people who were learned: to Church theologians, the monks, to the -theologians of the newest shade, and even to the Evangelicals[55] -who profess salvation by belief in the Redemption. And I seized on -these believers and questioned them as to their beliefs, and their -understanding of the meaning of life. - - [55] Readers of _Resurrection_ (Book II, Chap. 17) will - remember the vivid description of the Evangelical meeting - addressed by Kiesewetter, who spoke in English. The original - from whom Tolstoy drew Kiesewetter was Baedeker, a well-known - Evangelical preacher who lived in England, but visited Russia - frequently. - -But in spite of my readiness to make all possible concessions, I saw -that what they gave out as their faith did not explain the meaning of -life, but obscured it. - -I remember the painful feeling of fear of being thrown back into my -former state of despair, after the hope I often and often experienced -in my intercourse with these people. - -The more fully they explained to me their doctrines, the more clearly -did I see their error.... It was not that in their doctrines they mixed -many unnecessary and unreasonable things with the Christian truths -that had always been near to me: that was not what repelled me. I -was repelled by the fact that these people's lives were like my own, -with only this difference--that such a life did not correspond to the -principles they expounded in their teachings. - -No arguments could convince me of the truth of their faith. Only deeds -which showed that they saw a meaning in life, which made what was so -dreadful to me--poverty sickness and death--not dreadful to them, could -convince me. And such deeds I did not see among the various bodies of -believers in our circle. On the contrary, I saw such deeds done by -people of our circle who were the most unbelieving, but never by the -so-called believers of our circle.[56] - - [56] This passage is the more noteworthy because it is almost - the only reference (and even this is indirect) made by Tolstoy - at this period to the revolutionary or 'To-the-People' - movement in which so many young men and women were risking and - sacrificing home, property, freedom, and life itself, from - motives which had much in common with his own perception that - the upper layers of 'Society' are parasitic, and prey on the - vitals of the people who support them. - -And I understood that the belief of these people was not the faith I -sought, and that their faith is not a real faith, but an Epicurean -consolation in life. - -And I began to draw near to the believers among the poor simple -unlettered folk: pilgrims, monks, sectarians and peasants. Among them, -too, I found a great deal of superstition mixed with the Christian -truths; but their superstitions seemed a necessary and natural part of -their lives.... And I began to look well into the life and faith of -these people, and the more I considered it, the more I became convinced -that they have a real faith, which is a necessity to them and alone -gives their life a meaning and makes it possible for them to live.... -In contrast with what I had seen in our circle, where the whole of life -is passed in idleness and amusements and dissatisfaction, I saw that -the whole life of these people was passed in heavy labour, and that -they were content with life.... While we think it terrible that we have -to suffer and die, these folk live and suffer, and approach death with -tranquillity, and in most cases gladly. - -And I learnt to love these people. The more I came to know their life -the more I loved them, and the easier it became for me to live. So -I went on for about two years, and a change took place in me which -had long been preparing, and the promise of which had always been in -me. The life of our circle, the rich and learned, not merely became -distasteful to me but lost all meaning for me; while the life of the -whole labouring people, the whole of mankind who produce life, appeared -to me in its true light. I understood that _that_ is life itself, and -that the meaning given to that life is true; and I accepted it. - -I then understood that my answer to the question, 'What is life?' when -I said that life is 'evil,' was quite correct. The only mistake was, -that that answer referred to _my_ life, but not to life in general. My -life, a life of indulgence and desires, was meaningless and evil.... -And I understood the truth, which I afterwards found in the Gospels, -that men love darkness rather than the light because their deeds are -evil; and that to see things as they are, one must think and speak -of the life of humanity, and not of the life of the minority who are -parasites on life. - -And indeed, the bird lives so that it must fly, collect food and -build its nest; and when I see the bird doing that, I joy in its joy. -The goat, hare and wolf live so that they must feed themselves, and -propagate and feed their families, and when they do so, I feel firmly -assured that they are happy and that their life is a reasonable one. -And what does man do? He should earn a living as the beasts do, but -with this difference--that he would perish if he did it alone; he has -to procure it not for himself but for all. When he does _that_, I have -a firm assurance that he is happy and that his life is reasonable. And -what had I done during the whole thirty years of my conscious life? I -had not only not been earning a living for all, I had not even earned -my own living. I had lived as a parasite, and when I asked myself what -use my life was, I found that my life was useless. If the meaning of -human life lies in supporting it, how could I, who for thirty years -had occupied myself not with supporting life but with destroying it in -myself and in others--how could I obtain any other reply than that my -life was senseless and an evil? It was both senseless and evil. - -The conviction that a knowledge of life can only be found by living, -led me to doubt the goodness of my own life.... During that whole year, -when I was asking myself almost every moment, whether I should not end -matters with a noose or a bullet--all that time, alongside the course -of thought and observation about which I have spoken, my heart was -oppressed with a painful feeling which I can only describe as a search -for God. - -I went over in my mind the arguments of Kant and Schopenhauer showing -the impossibility of proving the existence of a God, and I began to -refute them. Cause, said I to myself, is not a category such as are -Time and Space. If I exist, there must be some cause for it, and a -cause of causes. And that first cause of all, is what men have called -'God.' And as soon as I acknowledged that there is a force in whose -power I am, I at once felt that I could live. But I asked myself: -What is that cause, that force? How am I to think of it? What are my -relations to that which I call 'God'? And only the familiar replies -occurred to me: 'He is the Creator and Preserver.' This reply did not -satisfy me, and I felt I was losing within me what I needed for my -life. I became terrified and began to pray to him whom I sought, that -he should help me. But the more I prayed the more apparent it became -to me that he did not hear me, and that there was no one to whom to -address myself. And with despair in my heart that there is no God at -all, I said: 'Lord, have mercy, save me! Lord, teach me!' But no one -had mercy on me, and I felt that my life was coming to a standstill. - -But again and again I returned to the same admission that I could not -have come into the world without any cause or reason or meaning; I -could not be such a fledgling fallen from its nest as I felt myself to -be. Or, granting that I be such, lying on my back in the high grass, -even then I cry because I know that a mother has borne me within her, -has hatched me, warmed me, fed me and loved me. Where is she--that -mother? If she has deserted me, who is it that has done so? I cannot -hide from myself that some one bore me, loving me. Who was that some -one? Again 'God'? - -'He exists,' said I to myself. And I had only for an instant to admit -that, and at once life rose within me, and I felt the possibility and -joy of being. But again, from the admission of the existence of a God -I went on to seek my relations with him; and again I imagined _that_ -God--our creator in three persons who sent his son, the Saviour--and -again _that_ God, detached from the world and from me, melts like a -block of ice, melts before my eyes, and again nothing remains, and -again the spring of life dries up within me, and I despair, and feel -that I have nothing to do but to kill myself. And the worst of all is, -that I feel I cannot do it. - -Not twice or three times, but tens and hundreds of times, I reached -those conditions first of joy and animation, and then of despair and -consciousness of the impossibility of living. - -I remember that it was in early spring: I was alone in the wood -listening to its sounds. I listened and thought ever of the same thing, -as I had constantly done during those last three years. I was again -seeking God. - -'Very well, there is no God,' said I to myself; 'there is no one who is -not my imagination but a reality like my whole life. He does not exist, -and no miracles can prove his existence, because the miracles would be -my perceptions, besides being irrational.' - -'But my _perception_ of God, of him whom I seek,' asked I of myself, -'where has that perception come from?' And again at this thought the -glad waves of life rose within me. All that was around me came to life, -and received a meaning. But my joy did not last long. My mind continued -its work. - -'The conception of God, is not God,' said I to myself. 'The conception, -is what takes place within me. The conception of God, is something I -can evoke or can refrain from evoking in myself. That is not what I -seek. I seek that, without which there can be no life.' And again all -around me and within me began to die, and again I wished to kill myself. - -But then I turned my gaze upon myself, on what went on within me, and -I remembered that I only lived at those times when I believed in God. -As it was before, so it was now; I need only be aware of God to live; I -need only forget him, or disbelieve in him, and I die.... 'What more -do you seek?' exclaimed a voice within me. 'This is he. He is that -without which one cannot live. To know God and to live is one and the -same thing. God is life. Live seeking God, and then you will not live -without God.' And more than ever before, all within me and around me -lit up, and the light did not again abandon me. - -And I was saved from suicide.... And strange to say, the strength of -life which returned to me was not new, but quite old--the same that had -borne me along in my earliest days. - -I quite returned to what belonged to my earliest childhood and youth. -I returned to the belief in that Will which produced me, and desires -something of me. I returned to the belief that the chief and only -aim of my life is to be better, _i.e._ to live in accord with that -Will. And I returned to the belief that I can find the expression of -that Will, in what humanity, in the distant past hidden from me, has -produced for its guidance: that is to say, I returned to a belief in -God, in moral perfecting, and in a tradition transmitting the meaning -of life.... - -I turned from the life of our circle: acknowledging that theirs is -not life but only a simulacrum of life, and that the conditions -of superfluity in which we live deprive us of the possibility of -understanding life.... The simple labouring people around me were the -Russian people, and I turned to them and to the meaning which they give -to life. That meaning, if one can put it into words, was the following. -Every man has come into this world by the will of God. And God has so -made man that every man can destroy his soul or save it. The aim of man -in life is to save his soul; and to save his soul he must live 'godly,' -and to live 'godly' he must renounce all the pleasures of life, must -labour, humble himself, suffer and be merciful.... The meaning of this -was clear and near to my heart. But together with this meaning of the -popular faith of our non-sectarian folk among whom I live, much was -inseparably bound up that revolted me and seemed to me inexplicable: -sacraments, Church services, fasts, and the adoration of relics and -icons. The people cannot separate the one from the other, nor could -I. And strange as much of it was to me, I accepted everything; and -attended the services, knelt morning and evening in prayer, fasted, -and prepared to receive the eucharist; and at first my reason did not -resist anything. What had formerly seemed to me impossible, did not now -evoke in me any resistance.... - -I told myself that the essence of every faith consists in its giving -life a meaning which death does not destroy. Naturally, for a faith -to be able to reply to the questions of a king dying in luxury, of an -old slave tormented by overwork, and of all sorts of people, young and -old, wise and foolish,--its answers must be expressed in all sorts -of different ways.... But this argument, justifying in my eyes the -queerness of much on the ritual side of religion, did not suffice to -allow me, in the one great affair of life--religion--to do things -which seemed to me questionable. With all my soul I wished to be in a -position to mingle with the people, fulfilling the ritual side of their -religion; but I could not do it. I felt that I should lie to myself, -and mock at what was sacred to me, were I to do so. At this point, -however, our new Russian theological writers came to my rescue. - -According to the explanation these theologians gave, the fundamental -dogma of our faith is the infallibility of the Church. From the -admission of that dogma follows inevitably the truth of all that is -professed by the Church. The Church as an assembly of true-believers -united by love, and therefore possessed of true knowledge, became -the basis of my belief. I told myself that divine truth cannot be -accessible to a separate individual; it is revealed only to the whole -assembly of people united by love. To attain truth one must not -separate; and not to separate, one must love and must endure things one -may not agree with. - -Truth reveals itself to love, and if you do not submit to the rites of -the Church, you transgress against love; and by transgressing against -love you deprive yourself of the possibility of recognising the truth. -I did not then see the sophistry contained in this argument. I did -not see that union in love may give the greatest love, but certainly -cannot give us divine truth expressed in the definite words of the -Nicene Creed. I also did not perceive that love cannot make a certain -expression of truth an obligatory condition of union. I did not -then see these mistakes in the argument, and thanks to it, was able -to accept and perform all the rites of the Orthodox Church without -understanding most of them. - -When fulfilling the rites of the Church I humbled my reason, submitted -to tradition, united myself with my forefathers: the father, mother -and grandparents I loved, and with all those millions of the common -people whom I respected. When rising before dawn for the early Church -services, I knew I was doing well, if only because I was sacrificing -my bodily ease to humble my mental pride, and for the sake of finding -the meaning of life. However insignificant these sacrifices might -be, I made them for the sake of something good. I fasted, prepared -for communion, and observed the fixed hours of prayer at home and in -church. During Church service I attended to every word, and gave them a -meaning whenever I could. - -But this reading of meanings into the rites had its limits.... If I -explained to myself the frequent repetition of prayers for the Tsar and -his relatives, by the fact that they are more exposed to temptation -than other people and therefore more in need of being prayed for, the -prayers about subduing enemies and foes under his feet (even though -one tried to say that sin was the foe prayed against) and many other -unintelligible prayers--nearly two-thirds of the whole service--either -remained quite incomprehensible or, when I forced an explanation into -them, made me feel that I was lying, and thereby quite destroying my -relation to God and losing all possibility of believing.... - -Never shall I forget the painful feeling I experienced the day I -received the eucharist for the first time after many years. The -service, confession and prayers were quite intelligible and produced -in me a glad consciousness that the meaning of life was being revealed -to me. The communion itself I explained as an act performed in -remembrance of Christ, and indicating a purification from sin and -the full acceptance of Christ's teaching. If that explanation was -artificial I did not notice its artificiality: so happy was I at -humbling and abasing myself before the priest--a simple timid country -clergyman--turning all the dirt out of my soul and confessing my vices, -so glad was I to merge in thought with the humility of the Fathers who -wrote the prayers of the Office, so glad was I of union with all who -have believed and now believe, that I did not notice the artificiality -of my explanation. But when I approached the altar gates, and the -priest made me say that I believed that what I was about to swallow was -truly flesh and blood, I felt a pain in my heart: it was not merely -a false note, it was a cruel demand made by some one or other who -evidently had never known what faith is. - -I now permit myself to say that it was a cruel demand, but I did not -then think so: only it was indescribably painful to me. At the time, I -found in my soul a feeling which helped me to endure it. This was the -feeling of self-abasement and humility. I humbled myself, swallowed -that flesh and blood without any blasphemous feelings, and with a wish -to believe. But the blow had been struck, and knowing what awaited me, -I could not go a second time. - -I continued to fulfil the rites of the Church and still believed that -the doctrine I was following contained the truth, when something -happened to me which I now understand but which then seemed strange. - -I was listening to the conversation of an illiterate peasant, a -pilgrim, about God, faith, life and salvation, when a knowledge of -faith revealed itself to me. I drew near to the people, listening to -their opinions on life and faith, and I understood the truth. So also -was it when I read the Lives of the Saints, which became my favourite -books. Putting aside the miracles, and regarding them as fables -illustrating thoughts, this reading revealed to me life's meaning. -There were the lives of Makarius the Great, of the Tsarevitch Joasafa -(the story of Buddha) and there were the stories of the traveller in -the well, and the monk who found some gold. There were stories of the -martyrs, all announcing that death does not exclude life; and there -were the stories of ignorant, stupid men, and such as knew nothing of -the teaching of the Church, but who yet were saved. - -But as soon as I met learned believers, or took up their books, doubt -of myself, dissatisfaction, and exasperated disputation, were roused -within me, and I felt that the more I entered into the meaning of -these men's speech, the more I went astray from truth and approached -an abyss. How often I envied the peasants their illiteracy and lack -of learning! Those statements in the creeds, which to me were evident -absurdities, for them contained nothing false. Only to me, unhappy -man, was it clear that with truth falsehood was interwoven by finest -threads, and that I could not accept it in that form. - -So I lived for about three years. At first, when I did not understand -something, I said, 'It is my fault, I am sinful'; but the more I -fathomed the truth, the clearer became the line between what I do not -understand because I am not able to understand it, and what cannot be -understood except by lying to oneself. - -In spite of my doubts and sufferings, I still clung to the Orthodox -Church. But questions of life arose which had to be decided; and -the decision of these questions by the Church, contrary to the very -bases of the belief by which I lived, obliged me at last to own that -communion with Orthodoxy is impossible. These questions were: first -the relation of the Orthodox Eastern Church to other Churches--to the -Catholics and to the so-called sectarians. At that time, in consequence -of my interest in religion, I came into touch with believers of various -faiths: Catholics, Protestants, Old-Believers, Molokans and others. And -I met many men of lofty morals who were truly religious. I wished to -be a brother to them. And what happened? That teaching which promised -to unite all in one faith and love--that very teaching, in the person -of its best representatives, told me that these men were all living -a lie; that what gave them their power of life, is a temptation of -the devil; and that we alone possess the only possible truth. And I -saw that all who do not profess an identical faith with themselves, -are considered by the Orthodox to be heretics; just as the Catholics -and others consider the Orthodox to be heretics. And I saw that the -Orthodox (though they try to hide this) regard with hostility all who -do not express their faith by the same external symbols and words as -themselves; and this is naturally so: first, because the assertion that -you are in falsehood and I am in truth, is the most cruel thing one man -can say to another; and secondly, because a man loving his children and -brothers cannot help being hostile to those who wish to pervert his -children and brothers to a false belief.... And to me, who considered -that truth lay in union by love, it became self-evident that the faith -was itself destroying what it ought to produce. - -As people of many different religions behave to one another in this -same contemptuous, self-assured manner--the error of such conduct was -obvious; and I thought on the matter and read all I could about it, -and consulted all whom I could. And no one gave me any explanation -except the one which causes the Soumsky Hussars to consider the Soumsky -Hussars the best regiment in the world, and the Yellow Uhlans to -consider that the best regiment in the world is the Yellow Uhlans.... -I went to Archimandrites, archbishops, elders, monks of the strictest -Orders, and asked them; but none of them made any attempt to explain -the matter to me, except one man, who explained it all, and explained -it so that I never asked any one any more about it. - -I asked him why we should not unite on those main points on which we -could agree, and leave the rest for each to decide as he pleases. My -collocutor agreed with my thoughts, but told me that such concessions -would bring reproach on the spiritual authorities for deserting the -faith of our forefathers, and this would produce a split; and the -vocation of the spiritual authorities is to safeguard in all its purity -the Greco-Russian Orthodox faith inherited from our forefathers. - -And I understood it all. I am seeking a faith, the power of life; -and they are seeking the best way to fulfil before men certain human -obligations.... And I noticed what is done in the name of religion, and -was horrified; and I almost entirely abjured Orthodoxy. - -The second relation of the Church to a question of life, was with -regard to war and executions. - -At that time Russia was at war. And Russians, in the name of Christian -love, began to kill their fellow-men. It was impossible not to think -about this, and not to see that killing is an evil, repugnant to the -first principles of any faith. Yet they prayed in the churches for the -success of our arms, and the teachers of the faith acknowledged killing -to be an act resulting from the faith. And besides the murders during -the war, I saw during the disturbances which followed the war, Church -dignitaries and teachers and monks of the lesser and stricter Orders, -who approved the killing of helpless erring youths. And I took note of -all that is done by men who profess Christianity, and I was horrified. - -And I ceased to doubt, and became fully convinced that not all was true -in the religion I had joined. Formerly I should have said that it was -all false; but I could not say so now, for I had felt its truth and had -lived by it. But I no longer doubted that there is in it much that is -false. And though among the peasants there was less admixture of what -repelled me, still I saw that in their belief also, falsehood was mixed -with the truth. - -But where did the truth and where did the falsehood come from? Both the -falsehood and the truth were contained in the so-called holy tradition -and Scriptures. Both the falsehood and the truth had been handed down -by what is called the Church. - -And whether I liked to or not, I was brought to the study and -investigation of these writings and traditions--which till now I had -been so afraid to investigate. - -And I turned to the examination of that same theology which I had once -rejected with such contempt.... On it religious doctrine rests, or at -least with it the only knowledge of the meaning of life that I have -found, is inseparably connected.... I shall not seek the explanation -of everything. I know that the explanation of everything, like the -commencement of everything, must be concealed in infinity. But I wish -to understand in a way which will bring me to what is inevitably -inexplicable. I wish to recognise anything that is inexplicable, as -being so, not because the demands of my reason are wrong (they are -right, and apart from them I can understand nothing), but because I -recognise the limits of my intellect. I wish to understand in such a -way that everything that is inexplicable shall present itself to me as -being necessarily inexplicable, and not as being something I am under -an arbitrary obligation to believe. I must find what is true and what -is false, and must disentangle the one from the other. I am setting -to work upon this task. What of falsehood I find in the teaching, and -what I find of truth, and to what conclusions I come, will form the -following parts of this work, which if it be worth it, and if any one -wants it, will probably some day be printed somewhere. - - * * * * * - -These closing words in which Tolstoy expresses the hope that his work -'will probably some day be printed somewhere,' are a reminder of the -difficulties and dangers that had to be encountered in Russia by any -man who set out to challenge the authority of the Orthodox Church, -whose affairs were managed by the Holy Synod, presided over by a -Procurator able to call on the secular powers to enforce his decisions. - - -AUTHORITY FOR CHAPTER XI - -Tolstoy's _Ispoved_: Christchurch, 1901. - -Tolstoy's _Confession_ being prohibited in Russia, had to be printed -abroad. The edition mentioned above is a reliable one. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - WORKS: 1852-1878 - -Tolstoy's first nineteen stories. Stands in a line of succession. -Quality as writer. _War and Peace._ 'Great' men. Napoleon. The battles -of Schoengraben and Borodino. Tolstoy's influence on war-correspondence. -Serfdom. The organisation of society. Characters in _War and Peace_. -Its range. _Anna Karenina_: Matthew Arnold's essay. Translations. The -tendency of the book. Kropotkin's criticism. The volunteers. Tolstoy's -attitude towards Government. W. D. Howells's appreciation. Tolstoy's -Last Three Decades of work: the magnitude and nature of his effort. - - -TOLSTOY'S writings during the first twenty-five years of his literary -career divide up into six sections. - -First came a series of seventeen stories and sketches, beginning with -_Childhood_ and ending with _Family Happiness_. Next came his series -of educational articles in the _Yasnaya Polyana_ magazine. Third came -_The Cossacks_ (the finest story he had yet written) and _Polikoushka_. -Fourth, came _War and Peace_. Fifth, came the _ABC_ Book, the -_Readers_, and another article on Education; and sixth, came _Anna -Karenina_. - -Leaving the educational works out of account, the list can be reduced -to nineteen stories and sketches, followed by two great novels. - -The nineteen sketches and stories, 'trials of the pen,' as Tolstoy -called them, covered a wide range of subjects, from charmingly -realistic sketches of childhood to vigorous depictions of Cossack -life, and showed their writer to be an amazingly accurate observer of -physical facts and qualities, manners, tones and gestures, besides -being possessed of a yet more wonderful knowledge of the hearts and -minds of all sorts and conditions of men, from the shame-faced child -to the officer dying on the field of battle. He is so concerned with -the interest and importance of life, that he can hold his reader's -attention without having to tell his stories so that they must be -guessed like riddles, and he never makes use of elaborate plots. He -needs no tricks of that sort. Nor does he strive after effect by -the use of pornographic details, the introduction of extraordinary -events, or the piling up of many horrible details. His stories are as -straightforward as everyday life. - -His great novels bear out all the promise of his short stories, with -the added power of maturity. - -Though highly original and of strong individuality, he stands none -the less in the line of succession of great writers which began with -Poushkin, whose genius for simple sincere and direct narrative gave -an invaluable direction to Russian literature, was continued by Gogol -whose biting irony and remorseless exposure of shams and hypocrisies -completed the emancipation from romanticism, and was carried on by -Tourgenef, whose art, conscious of and not indifferent to the trend -of thought and feeling in the society it describes, reached an -extraordinary pitch of artistic perfection. - -Tolstoy's works have from the first interested Russia, and now interest -the world, because in greater measure than any of his predecessors he -possesses the capacity to feel intensely, note accurately, and think -deeply. The combination which makes Tolstoy the most interesting of -writers, is the scientific accuracy of his observation (which never -allows him to take liberties with his characters or events in order to -make out a case for the side he sympathises with) and the fact that -he is mightily in earnest. Life to him is important, and art is the -handmaid of life. He wants to know what is good and what is bad; to -help the former and to resist the latter. His work tends to evolve -order out of life's chaos; and as that is the most important thing a -man can do, his books are among the most interesting and important -books of our time. He makes no pretence of standing aloof, cutting off -his art from his life, or concealing his desire that kindness should -prevail over cruelty. Life interests him, and therefore the reflection -of life interests him, and the problems of art are the problems of -life: love and passion and death and the desire to do right. - -The chief subject reappearing again and again throughout the stories -he wrote before _War and Peace_, is the mental striving of a young -Russian nobleman to free himself from the artificial futilities of -the society in which he was born, and to see and do what is right. -The search is only partially successful. The indictment of society is -often convincing, but the heroes' failures and perplexities are frankly -admitted. Sometimes there is no hero. In _Sevastopol_, for instance, he -exclaims: 'Where in this tale is the evil shown that should be avoided? -Where is the good that should be imitated? Who is the villain, who the -hero of the story? All are good and all are bad'; and in _Lucerne_ he -says: 'Who will define for me what is freedom, what despotism, what -civilisation and what barbarism? Or tell me where are the limits of the -one or the other? Who has in his soul so immovable a _standard of good -and evil_ that by it he can measure the passing facts of life?' - -This searching for what is good and rejecting what is false--resulting -in a strong distrust and dislike of the predatory masterful domineering -types of humanity, and in general of what has usually been regarded -as the heroic type, and also in a friendly compassion for all that is -humble simple forbearing and sincere--is the keynote of Tolstoy's early -tales. They are studies of life, so truthful that the characters seem -to have an independent life of their own. They speak for themselves, -and at times, like Balaam, bless what they were apparently expected -to curse. For instance, when Prince Nehludof insists on bringing the -wandering musician into the Schweizerhof Hotel in _Lucerne_, we feel -how uncomfortable he thereby makes the poor singer, though that is -evidently not what Tolstoy originally set out to make us feel. - -_War and Peace_, besides being maturer than the preceding tales, was -composed during the early years of Tolstoy's married life, when he -felt more content with himself and with life in general, and when his -attitude towards existing things was more tolerant and sympathetic than -it had been, or than it became in later years. - -He told me that in _War and Peace_ and _Anna Karenina_ his aim was -simply to amuse his readers. I am bound to accept his statement; but -one has only to read either of those books to see that through them -Tolstoy's ardent nature found vent, with all its likes and dislikes, -strivings, yearnings, hopes and fears. - -I asked Tolstoy why in _What is Art?_ he relegates these great novels -to the realm of 'bad art'; and his answer showed, as I expected it -would, that he does not really consider them at all bad, but condemns -them merely as being too long, and written in a way chiefly adapted -to please the leisured well-to-do classes, who have time for reading -novels in several volumes, because other people do their rough work for -them. Of _War and Peace_ he said, 'It is, one would think, harmless -enough, but one never knows how things will affect people,' and he went -on to mention, with regret, that one of Professor Zaharin's daughters -had told him that from his novels she had acquired a love of balls and -parties; things of which, at the time of our conversation, he heartily -disapproved. - -In form, _War and Peace_ is unlike any English novel, but it resembles -Poushkin's _The Captain's Daughter_ (though the latter is a much -shorter story) in that both works are chronicles of Russian families, -round whom the stories centre. In _War and Peace_ there are two -families, the Rostofs and the Bolkonskys. - -The mighty drama of the Napoleonic advance from 1805 to 1812 comes into -the novel, in so far as it affects the members of those two families. -But Tolstoy is not content merely to tell us of historic events. He -introduces a whole philosophy of history, which is sound at bottom -though no doubt he somewhat overstates his case, as is his habit. The -theory is that the 'great' men of history count for very little. They -are the figureheads of forces that are beyond their control. They do -most good and least harm when, like Koutouzof, they are aware of the -true direction of the great human forces and adapt themselves to them; -but then they are modest, and the world does not esteem them great. -The typical case of the impotent 'great' man is Napoleon in 1812, at -the time of his invasion of Russia. He posed before the world as a man -of destiny whose will and intellect decided the fate of empires. Yet -from first to last, during that campaign, he never in the least knew -what was about to happen. The result was decided by the spirit of the -Russian nation, and by its steadfast endurance. Every common Russian -soldier who understood that the Russian people dreaded and detested -the thought of a foreign yoke, and who therefore co-operated with the -natural course of events, did more to further the result than Napoleon, -that 'most insignificant tool of history,' as Tolstoy calls him, who -even in St. Helena was never able to understand what had caused his -overthrow. - -The main theme of the novel, if it be permissible to select a main -theme out of the many latent in the story, is Tolstoy's favourite -thesis. He tacitly asks: What is good and what is bad? With what must -we sympathise and what must we reject? And the reply is that the -predatory, artificial and insincere types, exemplified historically by -the invading French, as well as by such characters among the Russians -as Ellen, Anatole and Dolohof, are repugnant to him, while he loves the -humble, the meek and the sincere: Marie and Platon Karataef, Natasha -(so impulsive and charming in her youth, so absorbed in her family -later on), and Pierre (who is often humble and always sincere, and -loves ideas and ideals). - -It is impossible to do justice to this wonderful book in any brief -summary. It is not a work to be summed up in a few pages. It has many -characters, all of them so distinctly drawn that we know them better -than we know our personal acquaintances. It treats of life's deepest -experiences from the cradle to the grave; and to read it with the care -it deserves is to know life better and see it more sanely and seriously -than one ever did before. Some foolish people think that reading novels -is a waste of time; but there are hardly any books--at any rate hardly -any big books--that are better worth reading than Tolstoy's novels. - -He is probably justified in claiming that his history is truer than -the historians' history of the battles of Schoengraben, Austerlitz, -and Borodino. The historians, from mendacious military reports drawn -up after the action, try to discover what the Commanders-in-Chief -meant to do; and to tell their story within moderate limits they have -to systematise what was really a huge disorder; thereby giving their -readers a completely wrong impression of what a battle is like. - -N. N. Mouravyof, a Commander-in-Chief who distinguished himself in -more than one war, declared he had never read a better description of -a battle than Tolstoy's account of Schoengraben; and added that he was -convinced from his own experience that during a battle it is impossible -to carry out a Commander-in-Chief's orders. - -Tolstoy, when he wrote the book, was convinced that war is inevitable. -The idea that it is man's duty to resist war and to refuse to take part -in it, came to him later. - -In an article entitled 'Some Words about _War and Peace_,' which he -wrote in 1868 for one of the periodicals, he says: - -'Why did millions of people kill one another, when since the foundation -of the world it has been known that this is both physically and morally -bad? - -'Because it was so inevitably necessary, that when doing it they -fulfilled the elemental zoological law bees fulfil when they kill one -another in autumn, and male animals fulfil when they destroy one -another. No other reply can be given to that dreadful question.' - -Yet his inveterate truthfulness, and his personal knowledge of war, -caused him to describe it so exactly, that the result is tantamount -to a condemnation. As Kropotkin says, _War and Peace_ is a powerful -indictment of war. The effect which the great writer has exercised in -this direction upon his generation can be actually seen in Russia. -It was already apparent during the Russo-Turkish war of 1877-8, when -it was impossible to find in Russia a correspondent who would have -described how '_we_ peppered the enemy with grape-shot,' or how 'we -knocked them down like ninepins.' If any one could have been found -to use in his letters such survivals of barbarism, no paper would -have dared to print them. The general character of the Russian -war-correspondent had totally changed; and during that war there -appeared Garshin the novelist, and Verestchagin the painter, 'with whom -to combat war became a life work.' - -It has been charged against _War and Peace_ that it neglects to show -the evil side of serfdom: the brutality, the cruelty, the immurement -of women, the flogging of grown-up sons, the torture of serf girls by -their mistresses, etc. But Tolstoy studied the period closely from -letters, diaries and traditions, especially from the records of his own -grandparents, the Tolstoys and the Volkonskys; and he says he did not -find horrors worse than are to be found now, or at any other period. -People then loved and envied, and sought for truth and virtue, and were -swayed by passions, as now. Their mental and moral life was just as -complex, and in the upper circles it was sometimes even more refined -than now.... No doubt the greater remoteness of the higher circle from -the other classes gave a special character to the period, but not the -character of brutal violence. - -Tolstoy is in sympathy with that time, sees the poetry of it, and -knows how much of goodness, courage, kindliness and high aspiration -existed among those politically unenfranchised serf-owners. With our -modern, Western desire to _organise society efficiently_, he never has -sympathised. The state of a man's mind has always been to him more -important than the conditions of his life, and it seems to him as -though there were some antithesis between the two: as though, if you -organised your society, it would cease to think truly or feel deeply. -We in the West are beginning to believe the opposite, and to suspect -that to leave society unorganised or disorganised has an inevitable -tendency to blunt our minds and souls. But not the less is it valuable -to have so wonderful a picture of Russia as it was at the commencement -of the nineteenth century, painted by one who sees it as the best -Russians of that period saw it themselves. - -Of the history part of the book, it should be noted that Tolstoy says: -'Wherever in my novel historic characters speak or act, I have not -invented, but have made use of materials which during my work have -accumulated till they form a whole library.' - -He told me he considered the defect of the book, besides its size, to -be the intrusion of a long philosophic argument into the story. He -still holds the opinions he held when he wrote it, as to the influence -or impotence of 'great' men, as well as all that he then said about -destiny and free will; but he now realises that his novel would have -been a better novel without these abstract disquisitions. - -The characters in the book are not strictly copied from life, but in -the main Tolstoy's father's family are represented by the Rostofs -and his mother's by the Bolkonskys. In the magazine article already -referred to, Tolstoy says that only two minor characters are taken from -life, and 'all the other characters are entirely invented, and I have -not even for them any definite prototypes in tradition or in reality.' -But when he said that, he was defending himself from the charge of -having copied actual people who had played a part in the society of the -time, and he clearly overstates his case, for to a considerable extent -the characters in the novel correspond to the people mentioned in the -following list: - - CHARACTERS IN _War and_ MEMBERS OF THE TOLSTOY - _Peace_: OR VOLKONSKY FAMILIES: - - The old Prince N. Bolkonsky = Tolstoy's grandfather, Prince - N. Volkonsky. - - His daughter, Princess Marie = Tolstoy's mother, the Princess - N. Bolkonsky Marie N. Volkonsky. - - The old Count Ilya A. Rostof = Tolstoy's grandfather, Count - Ilya A. Tolstoy. - - Count Nicholas I. Rostof = Tolstoy's father. Count - Nicholas I. Tolstoy. - - Countess Natalya Rostof = Tatiana Behrs, Tolstoy's - youngest sister-in-law. - - Sonya = Tatiana A. Ergolsky. - - Dolohof is made up of a combination of Count Theodore Tolstoy, a - famous traveller, with R. I. Dorohof, a notorious dare-devil of - Alexander I.'s days. - -Many even of the minor characters, such as Mlle. Bourienne, and -Ivanushka the woman pilgrim in man's clothes, are copied more or less -closely from people connected with the Volkonskys' home at Yasnaya -Polyana. - -Tolstoy's sympathies and antipathies in this novel: his appreciation of -affection, kindliness, simplicity and truthfulness, and his dislike of -what is cruel, pompous, complicated or false, are the same as in his -earlier stories, but mellowed and wiser; they are also the same as in -his later didactic writings, though there they are formulated, dogmatic -and rigid. - -The novel covers nearly the whole range of Tolstoy's experience of -life: in it we have the aristocracy and the peasants; town life and -country life; the Commanders, officers and privates of the army, in -action and out of action; the diplomatists and courtiers; flirtation, -love, balls, hunting, and a reform movement which is all talk. What -Tolstoy does not show, is what he did not know--the middle-class world: -the world of merchants, manufacturers, engineers and men of business. -Of course these in Russia a hundred years ago, played a comparatively -small part; and there was practically no political activity such as -that of our County Councils, Borough Councils and Parliament. But -that all this was absent from Tolstoy's mind, and that his outlook on -life was confined to the aristocracy which consumed and the peasantry -which produced, will, in the sequel, help us to understand the social -teaching to which he ultimately came. His brother-in-law tells us that -Leo Tolstoy 'has in my presence confessed to being both proud and vain. -He was a rampant aristocrat, and though he always loved the country -folk, he loved the aristocracy still more. To the middle class he was -antipathetic. When, after his failures in early life, he became widely -famous as a writer, he used to admit that it gave him great pleasure -and intense happiness. In his own words, he was pleased to feel that he -was both a writer and a noble.' - -'When he heard of any of his former comrades or acquaintances receiving -important appointments, his comments reminded one of those of Souvorof -[a Field-Marshal of Catherine the Great's time], who always maintained -that at Court one receives promotion for cringing and flattery, but -never for good work. Sometimes he would ironically remark that, though -he had himself not earned a Generalship in the artillery, he had at any -rate won his Generalship in literature.' - -A simple world of nobles and peasants, with little organisation, and -that of a poor kind: a world the evils of which were mitigated by much -kindliness and good intention, and in which, on the whole, the less -the Government interfered with anybody or anything, the better--was -old Russia as it existed under Alexander I and as it still existed -when Tolstoy was young. He has described it with extraordinary -vividness, and has made it possible for us to picture to ourselves a -country and an age not our own. What effect the limitation of his -outlook, referred to above, had on the subsequent development of his -opinions, need not here be considered. It does not spoil the novel, -for no novel can show us the whole of life; but it had a very serious -effect on the formulation of his later philosophy of life. Of certain -important types of humanity he has hardly any conception. Of the George -Stephenson type, for instance, which masters the brute forces of nature -and harnesses them to the service of man--doing this primarily from -love of efficient work--he knows nothing; nor does he know any thing -of the Sidney Webb type, which sets itself the yet more difficult -task of evolving social order out of the partial chaos of modern -civilisation; or of the best type of organisers in our great industrial -undertakings: the men whose hearts are set on getting much work well -done, with little friction and little waste, and to whom the successful -accomplishment of a difficult project gives more satisfaction than any -effortless acquisition of wealth would do. Tolstoy over-simplifies -life's problems. He makes a sharp contrast between the predatory and -the humble types; and there is a measure of truth in his presentation. -He is right that life is supported by the humble, and is rendered hard -by the predatory types; but he has omitted from his scheme of things -the man of organising mind: the man who knows how to get his way, and -generally gets it (or a good deal of it) but does this mainly from -worthy motives; the man who is not perfect, and may take more than is -good for him, and may have some of the tendencies of the predatory -type, but who still, on the whole, is worth, and more than worth, his -salt, and but for whom there would be more of chaos and less of order -in the world. Tolstoy has said in one of his later writings that the -cause of the Russian famines is the Greek Church; and he is right. All -that stupefies, all that impedes thought, tends to make men inefficient -even in their agricultural operations. But by parity of reasoning he -should see that the introduction of thought into methods of production, -distribution and exchange, which has, during the last hundred and -fifty years, so revolutionised our Western world, should not be -condemned as bad in itself, however ugly many of its manifestations may -be; and however often we may see the organising and the predatory types -exemplified in one and the same person. - -Outside Russia, _Anna Karenina_ is perhaps more popular than _War and -Peace_. The former is a long novel, but not nearly as long as the -latter; and though it contains philosophic disquisitions, these fit -better into the story and are shorter and clearer than the philosophic -chapters in _War and Peace_. In arrangement, again, _Anna Karenina_ is -more like the novels we are accustomed to, though instead of one hero -and heroine it has two pairs of lovers, living quite different lives, -and not very closely connected. - -It deals with the passionate love of a beautiful and attractive woman; -and it has a further interest in the fact that Levin, to a greater -degree than any of the author's other characters, represents Tolstoy -himself; though Tolstoy made Levin a very simple fellow in order to get -a more effective contrast between him and the representatives of high -life in Moscow and Petersburg. - -_Anna Karenina_ had the advantage of being introduced to the English -reading public by Matthew Arnold in an essay which is one of the very -best any one has ever written about Tolstoy. It is so good, and still -carries so much weight, that I may be excused for mentioning three -points on which it seems to me misleading. First, Arnold's ground for -preferring _Anna Karenina_ to _War and Peace_ is ill chosen. He says: -'One prefers, I think, to have the novelist dealing with the life which -he knows from having lived it, rather than with the life which he knows -from books or hearsay. If one has to choose a representative work of -Thackeray, it is _Vanity Fair_ which one would take rather than _The -Virginians_.' - -This surely is misleading. War in Russia in 1812 was very similar to -war in Russia in 1854, and the son who had fought in the latter war, -describing the war in which his father had fought, was not at all -in the position of Thackeray describing the life of the Virginians. -Tolstoy depicting the homes of his parents and grandparents, which -he in part remembered, and which he at any rate knew well from those -who had formed part of them, was as close to first-hand experience as -he was when describing the life of Karenin the pedantic Petersburg -statesman, who belonged to a world which was essentially foreign to -Tolstoy, though he had occasionally glanced at it. - -But the sentence in Arnold's essay which has done most harm, is that in -which he speaks about translations: 'I use the French translation; in -general, as I long ago said, work of this kind is better done in France -than in England, and _Anna Karenina_ is perhaps also a novel which goes -better into French than into English.' - -It is true enough that the first English translations of Tolstoy were -very poor, and it is also true that the French versions, so long as -Tourgenef attended to them, were really good. But Arnold was wrong in -supposing that _Anna Karenina_ would naturally go better into French -than into English. Had he been able to read the original, or had he -been acquainted with Russian life, he would have seen that in Tolstoy's -novels there are two sets of people: a Court, Petersburg set, who -continually speak French and are Frenchified; and a plain, homely, -straightforward Russian (I had almost said, English) set who do not -use French phrases, and who are sharply contrasted with the others. -This contrast can be made quite clear in an English version, but it is -difficult to make it clear in a version where even the most Russian -characters have to speak French. The case is worse than that, however: -Arnold did not say, as he fairly might have said, that up to his time -the French versions were better than the English; he speaks as though -it were in the nature of things that any translation into French must -be better than any possible translation into English. A prejudice of -that kind tends to divert attention from the fact that some French -translations are bad, and some English translations are good. As a -matter of fact, since Arnold's time the position has been largely -reversed. When staying at Yasnaya Polyana in 1902, I heard Tolstoy -express considerable dissatisfaction with the new collected French -edition of his works, the first volumes of which had then recently -appeared, while he commended some recent English versions, including -work done by Mrs. Garnett and by my wife. - -A grave error, again, is made by Arnold in speaking of Tolstoy's later -life, where he says that he 'earns his bread by the labour of his own -hands.' Tolstoy never did that, and never claimed to have done it; -though it is extraordinary how often and how confidently the statement -has been repeated. It is a matter however which need not detain us, for -it does not relate to the period with which this volume deals. - -Arnold's summary of the story of the novel is excellent, but I can -here only quote one more passage from his essay. 'We have,' he says, -'been in a world which misconducts itself nearly as much as the world -of a French novel all palpitating with "modernity." But there are -two things in which the Russian novel--Count Tolstoi's novel at any -rate--is very advantageously distinguished from the type of novel now -so much in request in France. In the first place, there is no fine -sentiment, at once tiresome and false. We are not told to believe, for -example, that Anna is wonderfully exalted and ennobled by her passion -for Vronsky. The English reader is thus saved from many a groan of -impatience. The other thing is yet more important. Our Russian novelist -deals abundantly with criminal passion and with adultery, but he does -not seem to feel himself owing any service to the goddess Lubricity, -or bound to put in touches at this goddess's dictation. Much in _Anna -Karenina_ is painful, much is unpleasant, but nothing is of a nature to -trouble the senses, or to please those who wish their senses troubled. -This taint is wholly absent.' - -W. D. Howells, who has stood sponsor for Tolstoy in America as Matthew -Arnold has done in England, similarly says: 'It is Tolstoy's humanity -which is the grace beyond the reach of art in his imaginative work. It -does not reach merely the poor and the suffering; it extends to the -prosperous and the proud, and does not deny itself to the guilty. There -had been many stories of adultery before _Anna Karenina_, nearly all -the great novels outside of English are framed upon that argument, but -in _Anna Karenina_, for the first time the whole truth was told about -it. Tolstoy has said of the fiction of Maupassant that the whole truth -can never be immoral; and in his own work I have felt that it could -never be anything but moral.' - -Tolstoy never fears to deal with the real problems of life, and never -fears to call a spade a spade; but he also never panders to the animal -passions. In a letter relating to _Resurrection_ he remarked: 'When -I read a book, what chiefly interests me is the _Weltanschauung des -Autors_: what he likes and what he hates. And I hope that any one who -reads my book with that in view will find out what the author likes -and dislikes, and will be influenced by the author's feelings.' What -is important is not the subject treated of, but the feeling the author -imparts when dealing with it. - -Arnold, it is true, is rather shocked that Anna should yield so quickly -and easily to the persuasions of Vronsky. He is quite sure that she -ought to have resisted. But here we come to a matter on which many -Russians disapprove of Tolstoy on quite the opposite ground. Kropotkin -in his interesting work _Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_, -has stated their case very clearly, and this is the substance of what -he says: - -_Anna Karenina_ produced in Russia an impression which brought Tolstoy -congratulations from the reactionary camp and a very cool reception -from the advanced portion of society. The fact is that the question -of marriage and of the separation of husband and wife, had been most -earnestly debated in Russia by the best men and women, both in -literature and in life. Levity towards marriage such as is continually -unveiled in the Divorce Courts, was decidedly condemned, as also was -any form of deceit such as supplies the subject for countless French -novels and plays. But after levity and deceit had been condemned, the -right of a new love--appearing perhaps after years of happy married -life--was seriously considered, Tchernyshevsky's novel, _What Is To Be -Done?_ may be taken as the best expression of the opinions on marriage -which became current among the better portion of the young generation. -Once married, it was said, don't take lightly to love affairs or -flirtation. Not every fit of passion deserves the name of a new love; -and what is called love is often merely temporary desire. Even if it -be real, before it has grown deep there is generally time to reflect -on the consequences that would result were it allowed to grow. But -when all is said and done, there are cases when a new love does come, -and comes almost inevitably: as for instance when a girl has been -married almost against her will under the continued insistence of her -lover, or when the two have married without properly understanding one -another, or when one of the two has continued to progress towards an -ideal, while the other, after having worn the mask of idealism, falls -back into the Philistine happiness of warmed slippers. In such cases -separation not only becomes inevitable, but is often to the interest -of both. It would be better for both to live through the suffering a -separation involves (honest natures are improved by such suffering) -than to spoil the entire subsequent life of one--or both in most -cases--and to face the evil consequences which living together under -such circumstances would be sure to produce on the children. That at -any rate was the conclusion to which, both in literature and in life, -the best portion of Russian society came. - -And into the society Kropotkin describes in the above statement, comes -Tolstoy with _Anna Karenina_. The epigraph of the book is 'Vengeance -is mine, I will repay,' and death by suicide is the fate of poor -Anna, who was married young to an old and unattractive man, and who -had never known love till she met Vronsky. Deceit was not in her -nature. To maintain a conventional marriage would not have made her -husband or child happier. Separation and a new life with Vronsky, -who seriously loved her, was the only possible outcome. At any rate, -continues Kropotkin, if the story of _Anna Karenina_ had to end in -tragedy, it was not in consequence of an act of supreme justice. The -artistic genius of Tolstoy, honest here as everywhere, itself indicated -the real cause, in the inconsistency of Vronsky and Anna. After -leaving her husband and defying public opinion--that is, as Tolstoy -shows, the opinion of women not honest enough to have a right to a -voice in the matter--neither she nor Vronsky had the courage to break -right away from that society, the futility of which Tolstoy describes -so exquisitely. Instead of that, when Anna returns with Vronsky to -Petersburg, their chief preoccupation is, how Betsy and other such -women will receive her if she reappears among them? 'And it was the -opinion of the Betsies--surely not Superhuman Justice--which brought -Anna to suicide.' - -Whether Matthew Arnold's view or Kropotkin's view be accepted, Tolstoy -at any rate does full justice to Anna's charm: 'her large, fresh, -rich, generous, delightful nature which keeps our sympathy' and even -our respect; there is no nonsense about her being a degraded or vile -person. And after all, Tolstoy's view of marriage sanctity is a very -old and a very widely held one; and it is surely good to have that -side of the case put so artistically, so persuasively, so well, as he -puts it. If ultimately the idea that two uncongenial people ought to -live out their lives together because they have married, has to be -abandoned, let it not be abandoned without the very best advocates -being heard on its behalf. - -_Anna Karenina_ contains passages: the ball, the officers' -steeplechase, the mowing, the death of Levin's brother, and others, -which for artistic beauty are unsurpassed and, one is tempted to add, -unsurpassable. It also, towards the end, contains in admirably concise -form much of what Tolstoy has told in his _Confession_, of his quest -after the meaning of life, his thoughts of suicide, and how he learnt -from a talk with a peasant that man should live for his soul and for -God. - -His treatment in this novel of the Russian volunteers who went to -fight for Servia, was as bold a slap in the face to the Russian -jingoes, who were having things all their own way at that time, as -Campbell Bannerman's 'methods of barbarism' speech, or Sir E. Clarke's -declaration that the reassertion of England's claim to suzerainty -in the internal affairs of the Transvaal, was 'a breach of national -faith,' was to our jingoes at the time of the Boer war; but it is -curious to note the precise position that (speaking through the mouth -of Levin) Tolstoy took up. He did not say that Russia ought not to -fight to free the Christian populations of Turkey; he merely said that -no individual Russian had any business to volunteer for the Servian or -Bulgarian army, or to take any action to urge the Russian Government -towards war. - -Of Levin we are told: 'He, like Mihaylitch and the peasants, whose -feelings are expressed in the legendary story of the invitation sent -to the Varyagi by the early inhabitants of Russia, said: "Come and be -princes and rule over us. _We gladly promise complete submission._ All -labour, all humiliations, all sacrifices we take on ourselves, but _we -do not judge or decide_."' And Levin goes on to repudiate the idea that -the Russian people have 'now renounced this privilege [the privilege, -that is, of not taking any part in Government] bought at so costly a -price.' - -The connection between the roots of Tolstoy's opinions--manifested in -these writings of his first fifty years--and his opinions in their -ultimate rigid and dogmatic form, as expressed during the last three -decades, is in general so close, the dogmas of the later period grew -so naturally out of the sympathies and experiences of the earlier -time, that this point--at which there is a clean line of cleavage (the -difference between obeying Government and disobeying it)--is worthy -of particular note. When finishing _Anna Karenina_ Tolstoy had not -yet reached the conclusion that all Governments employing force are -immoral; but his later teachings are dominated by that view. - -Apart from the special points I have referred to, the general effect -and influence of Tolstoy's fiction can hardly be summed up better than -they have been summed up by W. D. Howells, who says: - -'Up to his time fiction had been a part of the pride of life, and had -been governed by the criterions of the world which it amused. But -Tolstoy replaced the artistic conscience by the human conscience. Great -as my wonder was at the truth in his work, my wonder at the love in it -was greater yet. Here, for the first time, I found the most faithful -picture of life set in the light of that human conscience which I -had falsely taught myself was to be ignored in questions of art, as -something inadequate and inappropriate. In the august presence of the -masterpieces, I had been afraid and ashamed of the highest interests of -my nature as something philistine and provincial. But here I stood in -the presence of a master, who told me not to be ashamed of them, but to -judge his work by them, since he had himself wrought in honour of them. -I found the tests of conduct which I had used in secret with myself, -applied as the rules of universal justice, condemning and acquitting -in motive and action, and admitting none of those lawyer's pleas which -baffle our own consciousness of right and wrong. Often in Tolstoy's -ethics I feel a hardness, almost an arrogance (the word says too much); -but in his esthetics I have never felt this. He has transmuted the -atmosphere of a realm hitherto supposed unmoral into the very air of -heaven. I found nowhere in his work those base and cruel lies which -cheat us into the belief that wrong may sometimes be right through -passion, or genius, or heroism. There was everywhere the grave noble -face of the truth that had looked me in the eyes all my life, and that -I knew I must confront when I came to die. But there was something more -than this, infinitely more. There was that love which is before even -the truth, without which there is no truth, and which if there is any -last day, must appear the Divine justice.... - -'As I have already more than once said, his ethics and esthetics are -inseparably at one; and that is what gives a vital warmth to all his -art. It is never that heartless skill which exists for its own sake, -and is content to dazzle with the brilliancy of its triumphs. It seeks -always the truth, in the love to which alone the truth unveils itself. -If Tolstoy is the greatest imaginative writer who ever lived, it is -because, beyond all others, he has written in the spirit of kindness, -and not denied his own personal complicity with his art. - -'As for the scope of his work, it would not be easy to measure it, -for it seems to include all motives and actions, in good and bad, in -high and low, and not to leave life untouched at any point as it shows -itself in his vast Russian world. Its chief themes are the old themes -of art always,--they are love, passion, death, but they are treated -with such a sincerity, such a simplicity, that they seem almost new to -art, and as effectively his as if they had not been touched before.... - -'Passion, we have to learn from the great master, who here as -everywhere humbles himself to the truth, has in it life and death; but -of itself it is something, only as a condition precedent to these; -without it neither can be; but it is lost in their importance, and is -strictly subordinate to their laws. It has never been more charmingly -and reverently studied in its beautiful and noble phases than it is in -Tolstoy's fiction; though he has always dealt with it so sincerely, -so seriously. As to its obscure and ugly and selfish phases, he is -so far above all others who have written of it, that he alone seems -truly to have divined it, or portrayed it as experience knows it. He -never tries to lift it out of nature in either case, but leaves it -more visibly and palpably a part of the lowest as well as the highest -humanity.... - -'He comes nearer unriddling life for us than any other writer. He -persuades us that it cannot possibly give us any personal happiness; -that there is no room for the selfish joy of any one except as it -displaces the joy of some other, but that for unselfish joy there is -infinite place and occasion. With the same key he unlocks the mystery -of death; and he imagines so strenuously that death is neither more nor -less than a transport of self-surrender that he convinces the reason -where there can be no proof. The reader will not have forgotten how in -those last moments of earth which he has depicted, it is this utter -giving up which is made to appear the first moment of heaven. Nothing -in his mastery is so wonderful as his power upon us in the scenes of -the borderland where his vision seems to pierce the confines of another -world.' - - * * * * * - -Tolstoy of the later phase, the last three decades, with which the -second volume of this work will deal, differed from the Tolstoy of the -first fifty years; but the later Tolstoy grew out of the earlier, as -the branches of a tree grow from its roots. - -The difference lay chiefly in this: that from about the year 1878 -Tolstoy became sure of himself, succeeded in formulating his outlook on -life, and proceeded to examine and pass judgment on all the main phases -of human thought and activity. His work was sometimes hasty and often -harsh; he painted in black and white, subjects really composed of many -shades of colours; but what other man has even attempted so to examine, -to portray, and to tell the frank truth about all the greatest problems -of life and death? - -No one really concerned to leave the world better than he found it--be -his line of work what it may--can afford to ignore what Tolstoy has -said on his subject. - -No such combination of intellectual and artistic force has in our -times provoked the attention of mankind. No one has so stimulated -thought, or so successfully challenged established opinions. Tolstoy -has altered the outlook on life of many men in many lands, and has -caused some to alter not their ideas merely, but the settled habits and -customs of their lives. Only those who neither know nor understand him -at all, ever question his sincerity. - -Those who have spoken scornfully of him are those who have not taken -the trouble to understand him. On the other hand, the small minority -who swallow his opinions whole, do so under the hypnotic influence of -his force, fervour and genius. To analyse his opinions, and disentangle -what in them is true from what is false, is a task no one has yet -adequately performed, but for which the time is ripe, and which, bold -as the undertaking may be, I mean to attempt. - -Tolstoy's marvellous artistic power, his sincerity, and the love that -is so strong a feature of his work, have often been dwelt upon; but -what really gives him his supreme importance as a literary force is the -_union_ of all these things: artistic capacity, sincerity and love, -with a quite extraordinary power of intellect. - -It is not given to any man to solve all the problems of life; but no -one has made so bold and interesting an attempt to do so as Tolstoy, or -has striven so hard to make his solutions plain to every child of man. - - -CHIEF AUTHORITIES FOR CHAPTER XII - -The literature that has grown up both in Russia and elsewhere round -Tolstoy's earlier writings is so voluminous, that I can merely indicate -a few of the best known works. - -In English we have: - -Matthew Arnold's essay: _Count Leo Tolstoi_ in _Essays in Criticism, -Second Series_: Macmillan and Co., London. - -W. D. Howells has written several very readable and excellent essays on -Tolstoy. I have unfortunately mislaid my note of them. If any American -admirer of W. D. Howells will supply me with a list, I shall be glad to -include it in any future edition of this work. - -P. Kropotkin's _Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_ gives a -very good idea of Tolstoy's general influence and relation to Russian -life and literature generally. - -In Russian: - -Mihaylovsky's articles in his collected works are interesting. - -N. Strahof's _Krititcheskiya Statyi o Tourgeneve i Tolstom_, -Petersburg, 1895, is excellent. - -V. Zelinsky's _Rousskaya Krititcheskaya Literatoura o proizvedeniyakh -L. N. Tolstovo_ (7 vols.) reprints a large collection of Russian -criticisms on Tolstoy's works. - -D. S. Merezhkovsky's _Zhizn i tvortchestvo L. N. Tolstovo i -Dostoyevskavo_ contains some acute literary criticism, but for all that -relates to Tolstoy as a man, it is worse than useless. Merezhkovsky did -not know Tolstoy personally when he wrote about him. He relied on the -works of Behrs and Anna Seuron, and even that scrappy information he -used unfairly. His talk about scents and fine linen, and in general his -whole characterisation of Tolstoy, is spiteful, and to those who know -the man attacked, it is merely ridiculous. - - - CHRONOLOGY - -_As in the text, dates are given old style, except those relating to -the Crimean War and to Tolstoy's travels abroad._ - - - 1645 Peter Tolstoy born. - - 1725 Peter Tolstoy made a Count. - - 1727 Exiled. - - 1729 Died. - - 1814 Count Nicholas Tolstoy captured by French. - - 1822 Marriage of Tolstoy's parents. - - 1828 (28 Aug. o.s.) =Birth of Leo Tolstoy.= - - 1830 Death of Leo Tolstoy's mother. - - 1837 Death of father and grandmother. Return to - Yasnaya Polyana. - - 1840 Famine Year. - - 1841 Death of the Countess Osten-Saken. Move to Kazan. - - 1844 =Matriculates at Kazan University.= - - 1847 Leaves the University. - - 1848 Passes two examinations at Petersburg University. - - 1849 Starts Peasant Children's School at Yasnaya. - - 1851 20 April =Leaves Yasnaya for Caucasus.= - - " Aug. Goes on expedition from Starogladovsk. - - " Nov. At Tiflis; writing _Childhood_. - - " Dec. (end) =Appointed Junker.= - - 1852 Jan. Sado's friendship. - - " Feb. Goes on expedition. - - " 2 July =Finishes _Childhood_.= - - " 28 Aug. Receives letter from Nekrasof accepting _Childhood_. - - 1852 Nov. =_Childhood_ appears in _Contemporary_.= - - " 24 Dec. _The Raid_ finished. - - 1853 Jan. Serves against Shamyl. - - " 18 Feb. Nearly killed by grenade. - - " March _The Raid_ appears in _Contemporary_. - - " 13 June Chased by Tartars. - - " July to Oct. Stays at Pyatigorsk. - - " Oct. War between Russia and Turkey. - - 1854 Jan. =Receives his commission.= - - " 2 Feb. Revisits Yasnaya Polyana. - - " End of Feb. Starts for Bucharest. - - " March War: England and France against Russia. - - " " Tolstoy reaches Bucharest. - - " June (end) Siege of Silistria abandoned. - - " Aug. Tolstoy leaves Bucharest for Russia. - - " 14 Sept. Allies land in Crimea. - - " Oct. _Boyhood_ appears in _Contemporary_. - - " 17 Oct. Bombardment of Sevastopol. - - " Nov. (end) =Tolstoy reaches Sevastopol.= - - " Dec. Stationed at Simferopol. - - 1855 Jan. _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_ published. - - " 13 April to 27 May =Serves in Sevastopol, in Fourth Bastion.= - - " June _Sevastopol in December_ published. - - " Aug. _Sevastopol in May_ published. - - " 16 Aug. In Battle of Tchernaya. - - " Sept. _The Wood-Felling_ published. - - " 8 Sept. Malahof captured by French. Sevastopol abandoned by - Russians. - - " Sept. Tolstoy returns to Petersburg. - - 1856 Jan. _Sevastopol in August_ published. - - " Jan. (end) Death of Demetrius Tolstoy. - - " March Russia concludes peace with England, France, and - Turkey. - - 1856 March _The Snow Storm_ published. - - " May _Two Hussars_ published. - - " Summer Engagement with V. V. A. - - " Nov. Grand Duke Michael displeased about Soldiers' Song. - - " 26 Nov. =Tolstoy leaves the army.= - - " Dec. _Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detachment_ - published. - - " Dec. _A Squire's Morning_ published. - - 1857 Jan. _Youth_ published. - - " 10 Feb. (N.S.) Leaves Moscow for Paris. - - " April Visits Switzerland. - - " July Stays at Lucerne. - - " Aug. Returns to Yasnaya Polyana. - - " Sept. _Lucerne_ published. - - 1858 Jan. Writes _Three Deaths_. - - " March Visits Petersburg. Helps to found Moscow Musical - Society. - - " Aug. _Albert_ published. - - " Sept. Signs Resolution of Nobles concerning Emancipation. - - " 22 Dec. Nearly killed by bear. - - 1859 Jan. _Three Deaths_ published. - - " 4 Feb. Speaks on Art to Society of Lovers of Russian - Literature. - - " April _Family Happiness_ published. - - " Winter =Organises School at Yasnaya.= - - 1860 15 July Leaves Petersburg for Berlin. - - " " Visits Auerbach in Dresden. - - " July and Aug. At Kissingen for his health. - - " 20 Sept. =Nicholas Tolstoy dies= at Hyeres. - - " Winter Visits Florence, Rome, Naples, Marseilles. - - 1861 Jan. Revisits Paris. - - " Feb. Visits London. - - " 5 May Re-enters Russia. - - 1861 26 May =Challenges Tourgenef.= - - " Commences work as =Arbiter of the Peace=. - - 1861-2 Winter =Occupied with his school.= - - 1862 Feb. =_Yasnaya Polyana_ magazine appears.= - - " May Discharged from office of Arbiter of the Peace 'on - ground of ill-health.' - - " May and Takes koumys cure in Samara Government. - June - - " =Police raid on Yasnaya Polyana.= - - " 17 Sept. Proposes to Miss S. A. Behrs. - - " 23 " =Marries.= - - " 3 Oct. Minister of Interior disapprove of _Yasnaya Polyana_ - magazine. - - " 15 " School abandoned. - - 1863 Jan. =_The Cossacks_ published.= - - " Feb. _Polikoushka_ published. - - " 28 June Eldest son, Sergius, born. - - 1864 _War and Peace_ commenced. - - " Sept. Dislocates arm while hunting. - - " " Collected edition of Tolstoy's works published. - - " 4 Oct. Birth of daughter, Tatiana. - - 1865 Jan. and Feb. =First part of _War and Peace_ published.= - - " Autumn Visits battlefield of Borodino. - - 1866 May Second son, Ilya, born. - - " June =Defends soldier at court-martial.= - - 1867 Summer Treated by Zaharin for indigestion. - - 1868 Publication of _War and Peace_ continued. - - 1869 20 May Third son Leo, born. - - " Nov. =_War and Peace_ completed.= - - 1869-70 Studies the drama. - - 1870-1 Winter Studies Greek. - - 1871 Works at _ABC_ Book. - - " 12 Feb. Birth of daughter, Mary. - - " June-July Koumys cure in Samara. - - 1872 Jan. Re-starts school. - - =_A Prisoner in the Caucasus_ published.= - - " Feb. _God Sees the Truth_ published. - - " 13 June Son, Peter, born. - - " Sept. Confined to Yasnaya by Investigating Magistrate. - - " Nov. =_ABC_ Book published.= - - 1872-3 Winter Prepares to write novel of Peter the Great's time. - - 1873 May Goes with family to Samara. - - " 17 Aug. =Samara Famine; Tolstoy's appeal.= - - " Sept. Kramskoy paints his portrait. - - " 9 Nov. Death of son, Peter. - - 1874 15 Jan. =Speaks on Learning to Read.= - - " 22 April Son, Nicholas, born. - - " 20 June Death of Aunt Tatiana. - - " Sept. Publishes article, _On Popular Education_. - - 1875 20 Feb. Death of son, Nicholas. - - " _New ABC_ Book published. - - " Jan.-April =First Installment of _Anna Karenina_ published.= - - " Summer Horse races at Samara. - - " 1 Nov. Baby daughter, Varvara, born and died. - - " Dec. Death of Pelageya I. Ushkof. - - 1876 Jan.-April Further instalments of _Anna Karenina_. - and Dec. - - " Observes Church rites and fasts. - - " Sept. Visit to Samara and Orenbourg. - - 1877 Jan.-April =Final Installments of _Anna Karenina_ published.= - - " Rupture with Katkof. - - 1877 6 Dec. Son, Andrew, born. - - 1878 March Visits Petropavlof Fortress. - - " Abandons _The Decembrists_. - - " May =Reconciliation with Tourgenef.= - - " 7 Aug. Tourgenef at Yasnaya Polyana. - - - - -INDEX - - - _ABC_ Book, 339, 341, 342, 344-348, 359, 360. - - ----Tourgenef's comment on, 347. - - Active service, military, 86, 99, 110, 119. - - Aim when writing novels, 430. - - Aksakof, S. T., 175, 310. - - _Albert_, 52, 166. - - Alexander II, Tsar, 180, 287, 379. - - Alexandra Fedorovna, Empress, 111. - - Alexeyef, V. G., 395, 396. - - Alexis, Tolstoy's servant, 32, 111, 284, 285. - - ----Tsarevitch, 2, 349. - - Algebra, 355. - - Ambrose, Father, 384. - - Anarchism, peaceful, 58, 139. - - Ancestry, 1-7, 14. - - Animals, kindness to, 28, 307. - - _Anna Karenina_, 289, 349, 357, 360, 361, 371, 372, 381, 438-445. - - ----characters in, 289, 349. - - ----impression produced in Russia by, 441. - - ----Matthew Arnold's comments on, 438-440. - - ----W. D. Howells' comments on, 440, 441, 445-447. - - ----Kropotkin's comments on, 441-443. - - ----Tourgenef's comments on, 361. - - Ant Brotherhood, 18, 19. - - Appearance, personal, 7, 26, 64. - - Arbiter of the Peace, 211, 226-229, 283. - - Arbouzof's _Recollections_, 370. - - Arithmetic in _ABC_ Book, 341, 359. - - Arm dislocated, 302, 303. - - Army, enters the, 65, 76. - - ----leaves, 152. - - ----becomes an officer in, 91. - - Arnold, Matthew: comments on _Anna Karenina_, 438-440. - - Art, talk with peasant boys about, 257, 258. - - ----thoughts on, 186, 275-277, 296, 333, 377, 405. - - ----what is it? 260. - - Artistic capacity of peasants, 275. - - ----element in Literature, speech on the, 185. - - Artists, Tolstoy's criticism of, 163, 164. - - Astronomy, studies, 341. - - Auerbach, B., 194, 212. - - Aunt Tatiana. See _Tatiana_. - - Austria's pressure on Russia, 97. - - Authors, Tolstoy's criticism of the, 162-165. - - Autobiographical, 10, 14, 17, 18, 20, 21, 24, 26, 28, 31, 34, 39-50, - 53, 54, 59-77, 81-84, 89, 90, 95-104, 106-111, 128, 130, 148, 150, - 152, 153-155, 160, 161, 162, 167-173, 175, 177-180, 182, 189, 192, - 198, 200, 202, 212, 214, 224, 228, 252, 254, 263, 269, 272, 282-284, - 286, 288, 291, 293, 294, 296, 298, 300, 303, 304, 325-327, 333, 337, - 359, 365, 383, _and whole of chap._ xi. - - - BAEDEKER, preacher, 413. - - _Barstchina_ explained, 225. - - Baryatinsky, General, 65. - - Bashkirs, Tolstoy and the, 335-337. - - Bastion, the Fourth, 110, 113, 114, 117. - - Bastions, clears Fifth and Sixth, 121. - - See also _Sevastopol_. - - _Bear Hunt_, The, 342. - - Bear-hunt, a, 183-185. - - Bee-keeping, 296. - - Beethoven, comment on, 276, 377-378. - - Behrs family, the, 149, 284, 288, 290. - - ----Miss S. A. See _Tolstoy, Countess S. A._ - - ----S. A. (_brother-in-law_), 297, 332, 335, 390. - - ----comments on Tolstoy by, 324, 387, 390, 436. - - ----Tanya (Tanitchka; _sister-in-law_), 305. - - Belbek, transferred to, 110, 111. - - Beliefs, religious, 38-39, 162, chap. xi. - - Berlin, in, 193, 194. - - Bible, the, 263-267. - - Billiards, Chinese, 284. - - Birth, Tolstoy's, 9. - - Boarding schools condemned, 235. - - Bolkonskys, the (_War and Peace_), 434, 435. - - Books for the people, 263, 267, 277, 339. - - ----that influenced Tolstoy, 31, 44, 45, 160. - - Borodino, visit to battlefield of, 306. - - Botkin, V. P., 161, 168, 174, 316. - - ----'s comment on _War and Peace_, 315. - - ----'s criticism of Tolstoy, 223. - - Boulka (dog), 88, 89. - - Boutlerof, A. M., Professor, 383. - - _Boyhood_, 31, 91. - - ----Tolstoy's criticism of, 160. - - Bravery, 64. - - Bucharest, in, 95, 96. - - Buckle, criticism of, 240. - - Buddha, on Life, 407, 409. - - Buddhism, study of, 412. - - Bulgarian insurrection, 379. - - Bull kills keeper, 345. - - - _Captain's Daughter, The_, 161, 430. - - Cards. See _Gambling_. - - Caucasus, in the (see chap. iii.). - - ----descriptions of the, 61-63. - - ----fighting in the, 61, 87. - - Censor, the, 86, 131, 132. - - Charity, 216. - - Chastity, advocacy of, 13. - - Chess, 77, 119, 193, 389. - - Chevet's system of Music, 167, 271. - - _Childhood_, 22, 26, 65, 83, 86. - - ----Tolstoy's criticism of, 160. - - Children, Tolstoy's, 295, 303, 310, 317, 320, 331, 340, 344, 352, 357, - 360, 363, 366, 385. - - ----education of, 317-320, 366, 385. - - ----governesses, 318, 366. - - ----punishments of, 318, 319. - - ----and the servants, 318. - - ----taught music, 366. - - ----painting, 366. - - ----teach in peasant schools, 340. - - ----Tolstoy's tact with, 204, 205, 206, 307. - - ----toys, 318. - - Christian and Greek ideals, 332, 333. - - Christianity, study of, 412. - - Christ's Hospital, education at, 279. - - Church, the Orthodox, 39, 40, 413, 419, 420, 424, 437. - - Church ceremonial, 343, 369. - - Clarens, at, 168, 170. - - Coat of arms, 2. - - Collates Artillery Commanders' reports, 121. - - Colony, agricultural, in Kansas, 396. - - Communion, Tolstoy takes, 290, 421. - - Composition, how to teach, 272, 275. - - Comte, 396, 397. - - _Confession_, Tolstoy's, 24, 39, 40, 53, 162-165, 167, 202, 203, - 282-284, 298, 391, 394. (See also chap. xi.) - - Consumptive tendencies, 156, 284. - - _Contemporary, The_, 83, 138, 148, 182, 354. - - ----Contributors to, 138, 139, 142. - - Contradict, readiness to, 143. - - Conversion, 394, 398. - - _Copperfield, David_, 44, 45, 90. - - Corporal punishment, 13, 14, 26. - - _Cossacks, The_, 78, 79, 189, 284, 295, 296. - - _Cossacks, The_, Tourgenef's comment on, 296, 393. - - Cossacks, 78-80. - - Count, origin of Tolstoy's title, 2. - - Country life, love of, 308. - - Courier to Petersburg, 122. - - Court-martial, 310-312. - - Crimean War, chap. iv. - - ----cause of, 94. - - - DAILY routine, 320. - - Dates, Russian, 9. - - Death, thoughts on, 342. - - ----first experience of, 23, 24. - - Death of baby girl, 366. - - ----baby Nicholas, 360. - - ----Botkin, V. P., 316. - - ----Demetrius Tolstoy, 44, 147. - - ----Father and Grandmother, 23, 24. - - ----keeper by bull, 345. - - ----Nicholas Tolstoy, 197-203. - - ----Peter, baby, 352. - - ----Tatiana A. Ergolsky, 358-359. See also _Tatiana_. - - ----P. I. Ushkof, 369. See also _Ushkof_. - - Debts, 48, 49, 53, 55, 71, 72, 284. - - _Decembrists, The_, 145, 299, 386. - - Decembrists, the, 14, 386. - - Defiance of accepted opinions, 140. - - Demetrius Tolstoy. See _Tolstoy, Demetrius_. - - Democratic government, advantages of, 144. - - Democratic institutions, scorn for, 145. - - Dentists, 208. - - _Diary_, 37, 53, 81, 83, 148, 161, 167, 172, 173, 187, 189, 200, - 212, 220, 228, 285, 286, 288, 289, 290, 309. - - Dickens's influence on Tolstoy, 46. - - Diesterweg, educationalist, 213. - - Digestive troubles, 293. - - Dijon, at, 166. - - Dissipation, 52, 92, 97, 127, 140, 161, 162. - - Divorce question, the, 441-443. - - Doctors, dislike of, 313, 369. - - Documents, carelessness with, 51, 65, 85. - - Dogs, his, 88. - - Dostoyevsky, S. A., 84. - - Drama, Tolstoy and the, 297, 326, 327. - - Drawing, 310. - - ----lessons, 269, 270. - - Dresden, in, 194. - - Dress, elegance in, 35, 173. - - ----simplicity, 309. - - Drouzhinin, A. V., 148, 156, 157, 158, 168. - - ----criticises Tolstoy's style, 159. - - ----criticises _Youth_, 158. - - ----letter from, 190. - - Duel, a. See _Tourgenef_. - - Dumas _pere_, as novelist, 208. - - ----educational influence, 207. - - Dyakof, D. A., 37, 306, 321. - - - EDUCATION, 230-239. See also _School_. - - ----at Christ's Hospital, 279. - - ----criticism of, 232, 233. - - ----definition of, 231. - - ----evening lectures, 194. - - ----false bases of, 232. - - ----speech on, 353. - - ----Tolstoy's, 28. - - ----children's, 317-320, 366, 385. - - ----Tolstoy's method of, 278, 353. - - ----the right to reject, 235. - - ----Zemstvo Committee of, 356. - - Educational systems, Tolstoy studies: - - ----in England, 194, 210. - - ----Kissingen, 195. - - ----Marseilles, 206, 207. - - ----Saxony, 194. - - ----Weimar, 212. - - ----system in Germany, criticised, 233. - - ----work, Tolstoy on his own, 282, 283. - - Emancipation of the serfs, 180-182, 226, 299. - - ----Tolstoy's attitude towards, 223-225. - - Engagement with V. V. A., 150-155. - - Epicureans and life, 408. - - Epitaph, an, 382. - - Ergolsky, T. A. See _Tatiana, Aunt_. - - Estate buying, 300, 337, 359. - - ----management, 306, 323, 345. - - ----searched, 285-288. - - Eucharist, Tolstoy receives the, 290, 419. - - Eugene Baumann, 194. - - Evangelicals, the, 413. - - Examinations, Tolstoy's, 33, 34, 35, 49, 50, 65. - - Execution, an, 167, 312. - - Executions, the Church and, 424. - - Exercise, physical, 84, 128, 173, 308, 367. See also _Gymnastics_. - - - FABLE, an Eastern, 404. - - Fame, thoughts on, 129, 183, 401. - - _Family Happiness_, 185. - - Famines caused by the Church, 437. - - Famine Fund, Samara, 350, 351. - - Famines, 30, 304, 350. - - Farming, 179, 192, 294, 296, 304. - - Fasts, Tolstoy, 419. - - _Fatherland Journal, The_, 152, 354, 355. - - _Father Sergius_, 384. - - _Faust_ (Tourgenef's), 156. - - Fedka, literary genius of, 272-274. - - ----walk with, a, 254-260. - - Fet, A. A., 139, 141, 176, 215, 219, 222, 304, 312, 321, 322, 330. - - ----letters to, from Tolstoy, 179, 180, 182, 188, 192, 200, 214, - 217, 291, 293, 300, 303, 312, 315, 325, 326, 330, 331, 333, 337, - 342, 344, 351, 352, 359, 360, 361, 365, 366, 371, 372, 373, 374, - 380, 381, 382, 383, 385, 386, 387, 388, 391, 392. - - ----in rhyme to, 347. - - ----Literary Evening in aid of Famine Fund, 314. - - ----'s poems, Tolstoy's admiration of, 374. - - ----Tolstoy's criticism of, 322, 387, 391. - - ----visits Tolstoy, 293-295, 314. - - Fet, Peter A., 373. - - _First Step, The_, 209. - - 'Flock for the shepherd, a,' 234. - - Fly, attempts to, 25. - - Folk-Songs and Tales, 376-378, 384. - - Fort Grozny, at, 86. - - Fourth Bastion, in the, 110-117. - - Franco-Prussian War, 330, 331. - - Freedom of Russian nobles, 55. - - French language, the, 176. - - ----people, the, 207, 331. - - Froebel, Julius, 195. - - Future Life, thoughts on, 202, 340. - - - GAMBLING, 53, 54, 68, 69, 110, 140, 284. - - ----reflections on, 81. - - Garnett, Mrs. C., 360, 440. - - 'Generalship in Literature,' his, 436. - - Geneva, in, 168. - - Geniality and good humour, 204, 334, 336, 367. - - '_Gens comme il faut_,' preference for, 41, 60, 97. - - Geography, 33, 269. - - Georgia, 61. - - Gipsy girl singers, 52, 55, 59, 140, 178. - - God, 'There is no,' 24. - - ----thoughts on, 73, 189, 190, 371, 416-418. - - _God sees the Truth, But Waits_, 342. - - Gogol, 428. - - Gortchakof, Prince M. D., 90, 95, 100, 104, 118. - - Gouneba (stallion), 374. - - Government approves Tolstoy's schemes, 292, 360. - - ----Tolstoy's dislike of, 43, 229, 288, 312, 357. - - Grammar in schools, 268. - - ----schools, 367. - - Grebensky Cossacks, 78. - - Greek and Christian ideals contrasted, 332, 333. - - Greek, Tolstoy learns, 331-333. - - ----Church. See _Church_. - - Grigorovitch, D. V., 140, 141. - - Gymnasiums, Russian, 367. - - Gymnastics, 173, 179, 205, 261, 308. - - - HADJI Mourat, 66. - - _Handwerksverein, der_, 194. - - Hapgood, Miss I., 301. - - Happiness, plans for future, 74, 75, 76. - - ----thoughts on, 79, 80, 83, 447. - - Hay saved by personal exertions, 299. - - Hegel, criticism of, 239. - - Heresy, on, 423. - - Hermit, visit to a, 365. - - Herodotus, 332, 337. - - Herzegovina, 373. - - Herzen, Alexander, 143, 208, 209. - - Historian, Tolstoy as, 432. - - History, criticism of, 36, 268. - - ----how to teach, 268, 269. - - Home, love of, 323. - - Homer, 332. - - Homyakof, A. S., 185. - - Honesty, 126, 127. - - ----of peasants, 243, 244. - - Horse-breeding, 362, 373. - - Horse-race at Samara, 364. - - House of Commons, 211. - - ----sale of, 111. - - 'Hundred and Ninety-three, The,' trial of 394, 395, 397. - - Hunting, 66, 90, 183-185, 230, 302, 305, 309. See also _Shooting_. - - ----accident, 184, 185, 302, 303. - - _Hussars, Two_, 149, 157, 361. - - Hyeres, at, 197, 203. - - - _Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_ (Kropotkin), 441. - - _Iliad_, appreciation of the, 172. - - Incarcerated, 35. - - Inconsistency, 50. - - Infant Schools condemned, 235. - - _Infected Family, The_, 297. - - _Introduction to a Criticism of Dogmatic Theology._ See _Confession_. - - Irritability, 140, 141. - - - JUNKER, becomes a, 65. - - ----'s life in the Caucasus, a, 79, 80. - - Jury, serves on, 330. - - - KANSAS, Agricultural Colony, 396. - - Kant, 416. - - Karalyk, at, 285, 335-337. - - Katkof, M. N., 174, 284. - - Kazan, life in, 32-35. - - ----University, 32, 33. - - Keller, 212. - - Kiesewetter (_Resurrection_), 413. - - Kinglake, historian of the Crimean War, 133, 134. - - _King Lear_, Drouzhinin and, 157. - - Kissingen, at, 195. - - _Knyaz_, meaning of, 3. - - Kock, Paul de, 208. - - _Kolokol_, 208. - - Koran, 338, 385. - - Kornilof, Admiral, 105, 106, 118. - - _Kotchevka_, 335. - - _Koumys_ cure, 284, 306, 333. - - _Kounak_, 69. - - Kramskoy paints portrait of Tolstoy, 351, 352. - - Kropotkin, P., 397, 441-443. - - ----comments on _Anna Karenina_, 434, 436. - - ----_Sevastopol_, 133. - - ----_Ideals and Realities in Russian Literature_, 441. - - Kryzhanovsky, General, 127, 373. - - - LAND, the, 188, 215. - - Languages, 129, 331. - - ----Oriental, studies, 33. - - Lao-Tsze, 358. - - _Lautiermethode_, 353. - - Law, studies, 135. - - Lelewel, Polish author, 211. - - Leontief, Professor, 332. - - Levin (_Anna Karenina_), 289, 444. - - Life in danger, Tolstoy's, 86, 87, 110. - - Lisogoub, D., 397. - - Literature as an occupation, 65, 82, 109, 305. - - ----'A General in,' 436. - - ----its importance in Russia, 190. - - Literacy, Moscow Society of, speech to the, 353, 354. - - Lives of the Saints, the, 422. - - London, in, 194, 208. - - Love affairs, 26, 79, 149-155, 288-290. - - _Lucerne_, 171, 429. - - Lucerne, in, 170, 171. - - Luther, Martin, 196. - - Luxury, dislike of, 309, 317. - - - MACAULAY criticised, 239. - - Magazine, Tolstoy's. See _Yasnaya Polyana_. - - Malahof, capture of the, 119-121. - - Mariana, 79, 91. - - Marie (Masha or Mary) Tolstoy (_sister_). See _Tolstoy_. - - ----Tolstoy (_daughter_). See _Tolstoy_. - - ----Volkonsky, Princess, (_mother_). See _Tolstoy_. - - Marriage, 290. - - Marriage question, the, 441-443. - - Marryat's novels, 281. - - Marseilles, in, 206. - - Marya Gerasimovna, 9, 22. - - Masquerades, 309, 340. - - _Master and Man_, 91. - - Matriculates, 33. - - Maude, A., letter to, 301. - - _Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance_, 157. - - _Memoirs of a Billiard Marker_, 91, 157. - - Menshikof, Prince, 2, 3. - - ----Alexander, 105, 122-124. - - Metaphysics, 407. - - Michael, Grand Duke, 152. - - Middle-classes, Tolstoy's ignorance of, 436, 437. - - Middle period of Tolstoy's life, 298. - - Mihaylovsky, N. K., 354, 355, 395. - - Military newspaper projected, 108, 109. - - Mill, J. S., 396, 397. - - Mineral waters, a course of, 81, 313. - - Miracles, 417. - - Moabit Prison, visit to, 194. - - Mohammedanism, studies, 412. - - Molokans, 338, 423. - - _Moscow Gazette, The_, 350. - - Moscow Conservatoire, the, 175, 375. - - ----Fifty, trial of the, 394. - - ----Society of Lovers of Russian Literature, 185. - - _Mother Volga_ (song), 276. - - Mouhamed Shah, 350, 362. - - Mouravyof, N. N., 432. - - Mowing, 367. - - Murder of Countess Tolstoy, 256. - - Music, Chevet's method of teaching, 167, 271. - - ----his children learn, 366. - - ----love of, 51, 52, 175, 306, 320, 374-376. - - ----method of teaching, 271. - - Musical notation, 271. - - - NAPOLEON I, 431. - - ----III, 95, 133. - - Nature, delight in, 86, 169, 170, 175, 308. - - Nekrasof, N. A., 83, 132, 138, 141, 166, 172. - - ----comments on _The Wood-felling_ and _Sevastopol_, 132, 133. - - _Neues Leben, Ein_ (Auerbach), 194. - - _New ABC_ Book, 360. - - New Religion, would found a, 130. - - Newspaper, projected military, 108, 109. - - Newspapers, dislike of, 325, 379. - - Nicholas, baby, 357. - - Nicholas I, 94. - - Nicholas Tolstoy. See _Tolstoy_. - - _Nihilist, The_, 297. - - 'Not Born to be Like Everybody Else,' 81. - - Novel writing, 65, 188. - - 'Numidian cavalry,' the, 369. - - - OBOLENSKY, Prince D. D., 310, 323, 345, 384. - - _Obrok_, 224, 225. - - Officers, relations with, 63, 82, 127. - - Ogaryof, N. P., 209, 210. - - Old style calendar, 9. - - Old Testament, the, 263-267. - - Oltenitza, in, 96. - - _On the Eve_ (Tourgenef), 188. - - Optin's Hermitage, 30, 384. - - Orenbourg, at, 362, 373. - - Oriental languages, studies, 33. - - Originality, 27. - - Osten-Saken, Count, 5. - - ----Countess A. I. (_aunt_), 29, 30. - - Ostrovsky, A. N., 189. - - Ourousof, Prince L. D., 321, 331. - - Ouspensky, N. V., 253. - - - PALMERSTON, Lord, 211. - - Panaef, V. I., 84, 138, 161. - - ----comments on _Sevastopol in May_, 131. - - Paris, in, 166, 167, 207, 208. - - Parliament, 211. - - Pascal, B., _Pensees_, 383. - - Pashenka, 29. - - Patriotism, 322. - - Peasants' artistic capacity, 275, 378. - - Pedagogic tact, 279. - - Penmanship, 267, 268. - - _Pensees_, by Pascal, 383. - - Perovsky, Sophie, 397. - - Petersburg, in, 48, 50, 138, 139, 151, 173, 386. - - Peter, baby, 344, 352. - - ----the Great, 2, 348. - - ----proposed novel of period of, 344, 348. - - ----study of period of, 344, 348. - - ----Tolstoy. See _Tolstoy_. - - Petropavlof Fortress, visits, 386. - - Petrovsky Fair, 336, 365. - - Physical exercises, expertness in, 84, 128, 173, 309, 367. - - Piano-playing, 52, 290, 320, 375. - - Pilgrims and saints, 9, 22, 29, 394. - - Plaksin, Sergey, 204. - - _Plays_, 297, 327. - - Police search at Yasnaya Polyana, 285-288. - - _Polikoushka_, 211, 295, 296. - - ----Tourgenef's comment on, 297. - - Polish insurrection (1863), 296. - - Portrait by Kramskoy, 351, 352. - - Posthumous publications, 66, 384. - - Poushkin, 131, 138, 161, 428. - - Prayer, 39, 64, 71, 91, 117, 370, 420. - - Prayer, answer to, 68, 72. - - Prince, the Russian title, 3. - - Printing, questions the utility of, 226. - - _Prisoner in the Caucasus, A_, 86, 341, 342. - - ----Tourgenef's comment on, 347. - - Prisoners, Turkish, a visit to, 385. - - Prisons, visits to: the Moabit, 194. - - ----Petropavlof Fortress, 386. - - Progress, thoughts on, 226, 239-245, 283. - - Promotion, slow, 85. - - Propaganda, social and political, 397. - - Proposal by initials, to Miss S. A. Behrs, 289. - - ----formal, 290. - - Proudhon, visit to, 211. - - Public speeches by Tolstoy, 185, 311, 353. - - Punishment of his children, 318. - - Pyatigorsk, in, 81, 88. - - - QUESTION-BOXES, 194. - - - RACES on Samara estate, 364. - - _Raid, The_, 77, 85, 86. - - Railways, aversion to, 241-242, 334. - - Raven (horse), 27, 28. - - Read, Is it worth learning to? 277. - - _Readers_, Slavonic and Russian, 339, 341, 359, 427. - - Reading lessons, 262. - - ----practical demonstration of teaching, 354. - - _Reading Library, The_, 148. - - _Recollections of Count Tolstoy_ (Behrs), 297, 367. - - Reforms in Russia, 144. - - ----want of sympathy with, 144, 225, 230. - - Religion, on, 130, 338, 343. - - ----wishes to found a, 130. - - Religious beliefs, 38, 39, 162. - - Reports, collates military, 121. - - Review, a military, 84. - - Revolutionary movement, 394-397. - - Riding lesson, first, 27. - - _Right and Left Hand of Count Tolstoy, The_, 395. - - Rousseau, J. J., 46, 229. - - Rubinstein, Nicholas, 175, 375, 384. - - Rudolph, musician, 52, 167. - - Rules of conduct, 38, 39, 88. - - Russo-Turkish Wars, the, 91, 95, 373. See also _Crimean War_. - - - SADO, 69-73, 87. - - St. George's Cross, 76, 77. - - Sakya Muni, 407. - - Sale of house, 111. - - Saltykof, M. E., (Stchedrin), 174, 354. - - Samara, buys estates in, 300, 337, 359. - - ----famine in, 350, 351. - - ----in, 284, 285, 334, 345, 350, 356, 362, 388. - - Samarin, P. F., 346, 356. - - Sand, George, hostility to, 142, 320. - - School, the Yasno-Polyana, 52, 187, 230, 246-254, 261, 278, 292, 340. - - ----external disorder in, 248. - - ----a fight in, 249. - - ----punishment, 251, 252. - - ----theft, a, 251, 252. - - Schools, 230-239, 283. - - ----boarding, 234. - - ----infant, 235. - - ----Tolstoy inspects, 194, 206. See also _Education_. - - Schopenhauer, on, 315, 416. - - ----on Life, 407, 411, 416. - - _Schwarzwaelder Dorfgeschichten_, 195, 212. - - Sculptor, Tolstoy as, 310. - - Scythians, 337. - - Search of estate by police, 285-288. - - Self-depreciation, 162, 298. - - ----perfecting, 37, 38, 47, 48, 49, 52, 88. - - Sensuality, thoughts on, 81. - - Sequel, the, 447. - - Serfdom, 211, 224, 433. - - Serfs, emancipation of the. See _Emancipation_. - - ----relations with the, 21, 43, 47, 158, 188, 227. - - Sergius Tolstoy (_brother_). See _Tolstoy_. - - Servants, relations with, 308, 318, 323. - - _Sevastopol_ 112, 116, 130, 429. - - ----the Censor and, 131. - - ----comments on, by Kropotkin, 133. - - ----Tourgenef, 133. - - ----English edition of, 135, 301. - - _Sevastopol in August_, 119, 157. - - _Sevastopol in December_, 111, 131. - - _Sevastopol in May_, 130, 131. - - Sevastopol, map of, 112. - - ----Fourth Bastion, in, 110-117. - - ----Siege of, 106-109, 112-117. - - ----situation in, 105. - - ----Star Fort, the, 119. - - ----Tolstoy reaches, 104. - - ----truce, a, 134. - - Shamyl, 61, 66, 86. - - Shooting, Tolstoy goes, 84, 85, 90, 304-305, 336. - - Shyness, 129, 130. - - _Si jeunesse savait_, 179. - - Silistria, recollections of siege, 97-104. - - Simplicity, 84. - - Sincerity, disbelief in others', 143. - - ----his own, 51, 448. - - Singer at Lucerne, 171. - - Singing lessons, 167, 270, 271. - - Slavophilism, 160, 161. - - Sleep, respect for, 325. - - _Smoke_, comments on, 313. - - _Snow Storm, The_, 91, 157. - - Socialism, 395-397. - - Social tact, 129. - - Society, organisation of, 434. - - Socrates on Life, 407-409. - - Sokolniki, at, 59. - - Soldier, pleads for life of, 311. - - ----popular sympathy for, 312. - - Soldiers' Song, 122-126, 152. - - Solomon, 407, 409, 411. - - South Kensington, at, 194. - - Spiritualism, 82. - - Sportsman, Tolstoy, the, 66, 84, 85, 90, 183-185, 230, 302, 304-305, - 306-309, 336. - - Sports, organises, 364. - - Spring, influence of, 175. - - _Squire's Morning, A_, 47, 158. - - ----Tourgenef's comment on, 158. - - Staff-officers, disapproval of, 118. - - Stallion (Gouneba), 374. - - Star Fort, the, 119. - - Starogladovsk, in, 61, 64, 76, 78. - - Stary Urt, 68. - - State service, 43. - - Stchedrin, 174, 354. - - Stendhal, 93. - - Stolypin, 108, 285. - - Story-teller, an itinerant, 384. - - Strahof, N. N., 321, 326, 344, 383, 384. - - Strength, great physical, 367, 369, 403. - - Strenuousness, 323. - - Style, Drouzhinin criticises Tolstoy's, 159. - - Suicide, thoughts of, 402, 406, 410, 418. - - ----in _Anna Karenina_, 349. - - Syomka and Fedka, literary genius of, 272, 274. - - ----walk with, 254-260. - - - 'TAKE care of that young man,' 111. - - Tartar warfare, 77. - - Tatiana, Aunt, 13, 17, 29, 31, 52, 59, 154, 176-179, 295, 358, 359. - - ----letters to, 59, 61, 65, 66, 73, 76, 82, 84, 95, 96, 98, 109, - 152, 153, 168, 195, 198, 212, 285. - - ----peasants' opinion of, 358. - - Tchaykovsky, N., 396, 397. - - Tchernaya, battle of the, 119. - - Tchitcherin, B. N., 174. - - Teach, What must I? 163, 235-238. - - ----How must I? 238-239, 263-271. - - Telegraph, peasants and the, 176. - - ----Tolstoy's criticism of, 240-242. - - Temeshof, Dounetchka, 20, 21. - - 'Temple of Science,' the, 36. - - Tennyson, 135. - - 'Tests' himself, 151, 154. - - Theodore Ivanitch (Roessel), 12, 17, 18. - - Thought reading, 289, 290. - - _Three Deaths_, 174, 186, 357. - - _Three Hermits, The_, 384. - - Titles of nobility, Russian, 3. - - Todleben, 105, 118. - - Tolstoy, Alexandra A. (_aunt_), 174, 175, 196, 286, 351. - - ----letter to, 175. - - ----Alexis, 4. - - ----Andrew (_son_), 385. - - ----Dmitry (_cousin_), 4. - - ----Demetrius (Dmitry or Mitenka; _brother_), 20, 28, 41, 42, 43, - 148. - - ----relations with serfs, 43. - - ----Elias (_grandfather_), 3, 4, 5. - - ----Ilya, 64. - - ----(_son_), 310. - - ----Leo (_son_), 317. - - ----Marie (_mother_), 5, 9. - - ----Mary (_daughter_), 331. - - ----(Marie or Masha; _sister_), 9, 75, 82, 83, 84, 153, 173, 177, - 285, 288, 289, 304. - - ----Nicholas, I (_father_), 4, 5, 6, 21, 23. - - ----(Nikolenka; _brother_), 18, 42, 55, 60, 61, 191-193, 196-203. - - ----letter to, 98. - - ----(_son_), 357, 360. - - ----Peter, 1, 2, 3. - - ----(_son_), 344, 352. - - ----S. A. (_wife_), 149, 289-296, 302-303, 317, 340, 344, 348, 368, - 385. - - ----letters from, to S. A. Behrs, 348, 356. - - ----Sergius (Sergey or Seryozha; _brother_), 19, 20, 28, 41, 42, - 196, 305. - - ----letters to, 48, 89, 90, 106, 110, 148, 150, 152, 198. - - ----L. (_son_), 295, 303, 340, 366, 389. - - ----Tatiana L. (_daughter_), 303, 320, 340, 366. - - ----family and servants, the, 21, 22, 318. - - ----name, the, 1, 9. - - ----spelling of, 9. - - Tourgenef, 84, 133, 139-141, 149, 166, 168, 189, 190, 193, 214-223, - 303, 338, 339, 357, 388, 389-393, 428. - - ----challenged by Tolstoy, 166, 217. - - ----challenges Tolstoy, 219. - - ----comments on _ABC_ Book, 347. - - ----_Anna Karenina_, 361. - - ----_Cossacks, The_, 296, 393. - - ----_Polikoushka_, 297. - - ----_Sevastopol_, 133. - - Tourgenef, comments on _Squire's Morning, A_, 158. - - ----_War and Peace_, 314. - - ----letters to Fet, 190, 220, 221, 296, 338, 339, 357. - - ----in verse, 187. - - ----Tolstoy, 155, 156, 217, 218, 388. - - ----on Tolstoy, 338, 339, 392, 393. - - ----reconciliation with Tolstoy, 388-391. - - ----'s Faust, 156. - - ----'s _On the Eve_, Tolstoy's criticism of, 188. - - ----'s _Smoke_, Tolstoy's criticism of, 313. - - ----Tolstoy's quarrel with, 216-223. - - ----translations with Mme. Viardot. See _Viardot_. - - 'Towards the People' Movement, the, 394. - - Training College for Teachers, a, 347, 355, 356. - - Translations, 301, 440. - - Traveller in the Well, The, 404. - - Tree-planting, 313. - - 'Trials of the Pen,' 300, 303. - - Trollope, A., 320. - - Troubetskoy, Princess Catherine (_grandmother_), 6. - - 'Tsar-Liberator,' the, 225. - - Tsar, prayers for the, 420. - - Tschaikovsky, P. I., 375-377. - - ----letter to, 376. - - Turkey, war with, 379. - - Turkish prisoners in Toula, 385. - - Turks, ferocity of, 103. - - _Twenty-three Tales_, 342, 384. - - _Two Hussars_, 157, 361. - - - UFANIZING. See _Farming_. - - Universities, dislike of, 36, 235. - - University degree, failure to take, 37, 51. - - '----in bark shoes,' a, 347, 355, 356. - - ----studies at Kazan, 32-37. - - ----at Petersburg, 48, 50. - - Unmethodical habits, 51, 65, 85. - - Ushkof, P. I. (_aunt_), 31, 369. - - ----V. I., 4, 31. - - - VANITY, thoughts on, 81. - - Varvara Engelhardt, 6, 7. - - Viardot, Madame, 357, 361. - - Volga, journey down the, 285, 334. - - _Volga, Mother_ (song), 276. - - Volkonsky, Prince Nicholas (_grandfather_), 6, 7. - - ----S. G., 386. - - ----Princess (_mother's cousin_), 174. - - ----Marie (_mother_), 5. - - Voltaire, influence of, 47. - - V. V. A., love affair with, 150-155. - - - WALKING, love of, 204, 308, 309. - - ----tour, 168-170. - - _War and Peace_, 303, 304, 309, 314, 317, 395, 430. - - ----characters in, 304, 435, 436. - - ----preparations for, 300. - - ----Tolstoy's comment on, 303. - - ----Botkin's comment on, 315. - - ----Tourgenef's comment on, 314, 315. - - War, active service in, 86, 99, 110, 119. - - ----the Church and, 424. - - ----horror of, 78, 137. - - ----thoughts on, 133, 135, 136, 432. - - Wealth, 243, 244. - - Weimar, in, 211, 212. - - _What is Art?_ 260, 342, 378, 430. - - _What Men Live By_, 384. - - Wife. See _Tolstoy, S. A._ - - Wine, on, 137. - - 'Wishes to be great,' 183. - - Women, relations with, 40, 44, 52. - - _Wood-Felling, The_, 77, 130, 131, 132. - - Wood, Mrs. Henry, 320. - - Works, first collected edition of, 300. - - ----list of, 427. - - ----published before _War and Peace_, list of, 301. - - Writer, Tolstoy the, 441, 445-447. - - Writers, criticism, of the, 162-165. - - Writing lessons, 268. - - - _Yasnaya Polyana_, magazine, 231, 242, 246, 291, 292. - - Yasnaya Polyana, house and estate, 16, 111, 309. - - Yasno-Polyana School, Chap. VIII. - See also _School_. - - _Youth_, 130, 156, 158, 160. - - ----criticised by Drouzhinin, 158, 159. - - ----by Tolstoy, 160. - - - ZAHARIN, Professor, 313. - - Zemstvo, elected to the, 251. - - -Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the -Edinburgh University Press - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the -original. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF TOLSTOY: FIRST FIFTY -YEARS*** - - -******* This file should be named 52242.txt or 52242.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/2/4/52242 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/52242.zip b/old/52242.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 07f93f5..0000000 --- a/old/52242.zip +++ /dev/null |
