MEN AND WOMEN OF TO-DAY.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 11400, 18 April 1899, Page 3

MEN AND WOMEN OF TO-DAY.

COUNT LKO TOLSTOI.—A KOiaAiS TCE

OF TWO RUSSIAN JSTOBILiT\

There ;ire nut many men in Ihe world today who would voluntarily Icc.vs ovrune and power and high position to serve as a peasant, and the man who acts thus for the sake of his principles must surely »mk h; Sh among the world.'s heroes. The name-of Coimi- Tolstoi h«s been mmilia'r to English people for many years, out it is doubtful if one Englishman in a .housand really knows the character 01 the grefct jinn who "goes by thai name '.n trie empire over which Czar' Nicholas rules. 'JiW men of our age are more misunderstood, ov have to bear more rushing torrents of quits anrleserved abuse,■ Hum Lyof Nikolaivneh lolstoi. And yet Ihe.Count is one of the mo3t lovable and' reasonable men 'v t.JiP world, and his character, so far from alienating the sympathy of Western races, is marked ny those traits which are never seer, in Uritain without being admired. Of that there can be no question. J.OI ■ stoi. might have been a rich . nun; to-day. He might have counted his wealth .n hundreds of thousands of pounds. He Jiad, indeed, at one time a handsome fortune. But in course of time he came to believe thai no Christian could retain a vast amount of money, so lie made over all. his property to his. family,-and:to-day the man who was once ,x gallant soldier, who shone with everincreasing lustre in the society of SO. Petersburg, whose books sold fo- vast turns and wore read by millions, is now -. peasant of the peasants, chopping his own wood, muking his own fires, digging his own potatoes, preparing his own meals, "scorning delights and living laborious days" in a truer and more literal sense than die poe+. dreamed of when, he wrote that woil-irnown line. :

Count Tolstoi even makes his own. nools, air.l when a neighbour is too poor to buy boots the Count makes his too." Ho would become his own tailor as well but for Ins wife, who, herself a conspicuous figure in Moscow society, insists on her husband drawing the line at this point. But even she cannot induce the Count to don .garments which would make him ar. admired figure at v Moscow ball. It Js awkward sometimes —as' awkward as n would be jt one were to meet Mr Chamberlain outside the House of Commons in'the garb o. a crossing-sweeper: but the fads of society are nothing to Tolstoi. One of his plays was being rehearsed at . theatre, and the distinguished author was invited to be present. His religion did not prevent him accepting the. invitation, but he went to the theatre as he went to l>is work—dressed as a peasant. It was only a small company of the select, and the doorkeeper was careful only to admit the proper persons. When a shabby-looking peasant appeared in'the entrance hall, therefore, he did not hesitate as to what his duty was, and ordered the man in peremptory tones to get ps far away as lie could in as little time as possible. As the peasant showed no immediate signs of.obeying, the doorkeeper seized him, and threw'him. down the steps. "My name's Tolstoi,'1 the peasant said, when he,had picked himself up again, and the doorkeeper, when he could Slid words to express his amazement, was profound in his apologies. There happened to be i" he play an incident of b- similar kind, and at the -.lose ot the performance, in • little speech he was called upon to make, the Count complained that the aofcov did not make the' most of this incident " T know exactly-what I am talking about," he said, "■far-I've just been thrown downstairs *nvself." , Count Tolstoi's household is •-■ remarkable instance of a house being divided against itself. Though there we thousands who believe, and'who practise their belief, as he does' throughout the work, His family by no means accept his -caching. •0* seven children, only one cap be 6«f' c be, a Tolstoian, and he has not _-i stronger opponent in the world than his yiie. The Onum, has "ot always Held his present, views o Vie. He -war-' i-i-adled in luxury, his'mothw being a princess • but he wai left <«i orphan as a child, and was darly bi ought in cotttact *?ith the peasants on the estate. He seems to have been a >-imarkably clever boy. or ac matriculated at lfi. Kb ?5 he *ookVVat would probably now call -he mos>. unfortunate step' of hie life—he joined -.he n.-my. ."?he wild scenery of the Caucasus, <.> :ich jp legends, inspired h.im w'th *.ns outline's o" some o f his most successful stories. He at tie storming of Sebasiopo , <>' wiico \e ,')at< whiten a graphic dese'-hit'on., and hs took part hi the campaign again,*' Turkey. After r ev. years, however, he left the army, and snttletf dow> >o literary life in St. 'Petersbuiv;. -ibou- '.hif time hs travelled a good" Zeal, Jsiti.ip the yonifnent and this country, and he tells i\s that »c spent a nigln, ii> our ni?i Hover of Commons, w'aeve \vi saw.jord Palinersio': "ait with, his hat pushed ove" his eyes a", v.ne time that ." member of Ac Opposition was thundering against the Ministry, aid then, quietly "ising, proceeded to demolish, one by one, the arguments of hie opponent." ' His first book, written when he was W\ i was called " Childhood, Hoyhood, :-.nd Youth," and achieved a great »ul-ccs>. Bfc made a great reputation as a novelist before he changed his views ; but he has sine? renounced hi? former works, '.'.fid refuses i-o draw »■ farthing of profit from then\ Now he gives his books a--vay, declining to b« paid, and no copyright exists in regard i.o any o\ Ins 'aver wrings. Some o* '.hese have been circulated in enormous iuunbers jin Russia, being issued in cheap form. All that he writes now has to Hp with the teaching, or wh.ieli he is the shies!; exponent, and those who know Russia wil"' place, great hope in the fk r:v thai, toe peasants are beginning to understand and sympathise with Tolstoi's views.

His greatest novel, "War and Peace," engaged him constiuitly for six: years, and it was while he was writing this booi that he resolved to abandon his work as a poet and novelist, and devote himself to the. propagation of the views which be himself, after many years of thought, had adopted. His later career dates from 1876. so that he has been living ns at present for more than 20 years. Immediately after His " conversion " he made over all his property to his wife—the daughter of a Moscow" doctor, whom he married in 1862— and six of the seven children have a separate income of £500 a year, one of his daughters, holding the same views as himself, refusing to accept it. This disinclination to hold property of any sort beyond the absolute necessities of life led to an amusing incident not long ago. The Count, it should be said, is a man of passionate temperament. He plays chess for hours, and those who knew him chuckled when they discovered that he had became fond of cycling. he having used his son's machine. Would the Count buy a bicycle? He could hardly do so without begging or earning *;he money, for lie never carries money, and his wife suggested to him that she should present him with a machine., To her surprise, no doubt, the Count raised no objection, and agreed to accompany his wife to make the purchase. 'Jj'hey chose a handsome machine, paid for it.

and left flic shop, but on returning home the Count: appeared to bo dissatisfied r.'ith himself, and it was evident he had .scruples about possessing a bicycle. ' I felt, very miserable all the'time I was in the. shop," be told a friend of the writer ; "and was by no means sure that I had any right to accept the machine. On the way home ( became more unhappy still, and 1 have just sent my daughter round to countermand the order." We hope that even in this country not many of his follower" will go to such extremes as this. And though the family is wealthy xaA owns several estates, the Count does not possess a single article of property that he can do without. He gets his books from (he Imperial Library, and rarely, if ever, buys a volume. Hundreds of books reach him through the post, and he receives thou-

sands of letters from all purts of the world. He cannot, <»f course, answer them all, but ho rarely leaves a letter unanswered if he ifl convinced that an answer will do good, and that the writer is sincere. The Count/if favourite outdoor exercises lire riding and liuvn tennis : indoors he is nearly always writing or playing ohess. He is a .icmsmoker, a total abstainer, and a vegetsuwCount Tolstoi is 72, having been bnr» at Clear Streak, in the government of Touhi, on August 28, 1826. He w. still act-iv* and writes°to his friends in Kngland Frequently. In one of these letters recently received, the Count mentions that when i>, youth he played card:; and gambled .urn mixed up with a fast set, and recalls auvoral incidents of his early days which shoiv tnat hi. mt>mnry is unimpaired. He is Interesting nunself "just now hi. the DuborhortsKi, n community of .iiodern martyrs who lire ie •(> driven from Russia for conscience sake; mid the Count has given his consent—tne first such consent that he has -givt^ for many .years —that one of his work-1-- -hrti! be., sold-instead of being given away, ;!><: proceeds "to be devoted towards defraying the emigration expenses of these people. The Count's strong sympathy with all who are weak, and his .antipathy to the civil and military power, once brought him in conflict with a policeman. He was walking along the street when he saw an officer move a beggar along in. * harsli manner, arid going up to the representative of the law, he put to him the question: "Do you know the law of God?" "I am not sure of that," replied the policeman, "but do you know the police regulations?" The Count confesses that he was com pl'et'ely'silenced by the ■policeman's retort. Tolstoi has unbounded faith in the Russian peasant, but he has no mercy when dealing with the Russian Government—or, 'indeed', any other Government for the matter of that. Many of his fellow-workers have been exiled, and several of them are in this country, one of them having given the writer, most of the information given tamed in this article, but not even, the Russian Government dare exile Tolstoi. The Czar is said to have read his books with-interest and sympathy, and Tolstoi is too great a figure in the land of the Muscovite to be driven away. He has done a ? rcat deal to raise the standard of fiction in Russia and to purify Russian literature, and nobody can tell how and when tlie seed he is patiently sowing among the Russian peasants will bear fruit. But in the long run Russia stands to gain and not to lose by sheltering this remarkable man.— Answers. '