MEN AND WOMEN OF TO-DAY.

Otago Witness, Issue 2355, 13 April 1899, Page 58

MEN AND WOMEN OF TO-DAY.

COUNT LEO TOLSTOI.— A ROMANCE OF THE RUSSIAN NOBILITY There are not many men in the world today who would voluntarily leave fortune and power and "high position to serve as a peasant, and the man who acts thus for the sake of his principles must surely rank high among the world's heroes. The name of Count Tolstoi has been familiar to English people foi many years, but it is doubtful if one Englishman in a thousand really knows the character of the great man who goes by that name in tbe empire over which Czar Nicholas rules'. Few men of our age are more misunderstood, or have to bear more rushing torrents of quite undeserved abuse, than Lyof Nikolaivitch Tolstoi. And yet the Count is one of the most lovable and reasonable men in the world, and his character, so far from alienating the sympathy of Western races, is marked by those traits which are never seep in Britain without being admired. Of that there can be no question. Tolstoi might have been a rich man to-day He might have counted his wealth in taundieds of thousands of pounds. He had, indeed, at one time a handsome fortune. But in course of time he came to believe that no Christian could retain a vast amount of money, so he made over all his property to his family, and to-day the man who was once a gallant soldier, who shone with everincreasing lustre in the society of St. Petersburg, whose books sold for vast sums and were read by millions, is now a peasant of the peasants) chopping his own wood, making 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 the poet dreamed of when he wrote that well-known line.

Count Tolstoi even makes nis own boots, and when a neighbour is too poor to buy boots the Count makes his too. He would become his own tailor as well but for his 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 an admired figure at a Moscow ball. It is awkward sometimes — as awkward as it would be if one were to meet Mr Chamberlain outside the House of Commons in the garb of a crossing-sweeper ; but the fads of society are nothing to Tolstoi. One of his plays was being rehearsed at a theatre, and the distinguished author was invited to be prespnt. His religion did not prevent him accepting the invitation, but he went to the theatre as he went to his 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 as far away as he 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," the peasant said, when he had picked himself up again, and the doorkeeper, when he could find words to express his amazement, was profound in his apologies. There happened to be in the play an incident of a similar kind, and at the close of the performance, in a little speech he vras called upon to make, the Count complained that the actor did not make the most of this incident. " I know exactly what I am talking about," he said, " for Tve just been thrown downstairs myself."

Count Tolstoi's household is a remarkable instance of a house beipg divided against itself. Though there are thousands who believe, and who practise their belief, ax he does throughout the world, his family by no means accept his teaching. Of seven children, only one can be said to be a Tolstoian, and he has not a stronger opponent in the world than his wife. The Count has not always held his present views of life. He was cradled in luxury, his mother being a princess ; but he was left an orphan as a child, and was early bi ought in contact with the peasants on the estate. He seems to have been a remarkably clever boy. for he matriculated at 16. At 25 he took what he tvould probably now call the most unfortunate step of his* life — he joined the army. The wild scenery of 4ho Caucason, oa rich in legends, inspired

him with the outlines of some of his most successful stories. He was at the storming of Sebastopol, of which he has written a graphic description, and he took part in the campaign against Turkey After a few years, however, he left the army, and settled down to literary life in St. Petersburg. About this time he travelled a good deal, visiting the Continent and this country, and he tells us that he spent a night in our own House of Commons, where he saw Lord Palmerston " sit with his hat pushed over his eyes all the time that a member of the Opposition was thundering against the Ministry, and then, quietly rising, proceeded to demolish, one by one, the arguments of his opponent.*' His first book, written when he was 26 was called "Childhood, Boyhood, and* Youth," and achieved a great success. He made a great reputation as a novelist before he changed his views ; but he has since renounced his formei works, and refuses to draw a farthing of profit from them. Now he gives his books away, declining to be paid, and no copyright exists in regard to any of his later writings. Some of these have been circulated in enormous numbers in Russia, being issued in cheap form. All

that he writes now has to do with the teaching of which he is the ablest exponent, | and those who know Russia will place great I hope in the fact that the peasants are be- ] ginning to understand and sympathise with Tolstoi's views. His greatest novel, "War and Peace," engaged him constantly for six years, and it was while he was writing this book that he resolved to abandon his work as a ' poet and novelist, and devote himself to the propagation of the views which he himself, after many years of thought, had adopted. His later career dates from 1876, so that he has been living as at present for more than ?0 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 sanie 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 M'hen they discovered that he had became fond of cycling, he having used his son's machine. Would j the Count buy a bicycle? He could hardly j do so without begging or earning the j money, for he never carries money, and , his wife suggested to him that she should present him with a machine. To tier surprise, no doubt, the Count raised no objection, and agreed to accompany his wife to make the purchase. They chose a handsome machine, paid for it, and left the shop, but on returning home the Count appeared to be dissatisfied with himself, and it was evident he had scruples about possessing a bicycle. " I felt very miserable all the time 1 was in the shop," he 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 I became more unhappy still, and I have just sent my daughter round to countermand the order." We hope that even ! in tliis country not many of his followers will go to such extremes as this. And though the family is wealthy and owns several estates, the Count does not possess a single article of property that he can do without. He gets his books from the Imperial Library, and rarely, if ever, buys a volume. Hundreds of books reach him through the post, and he receives thousands of letters from all parts of the world. He cannot, of course, answer them all, but he rarely leaves a letter unanswered if he is convinced that an answer will do good, and that the writer is sincere. The Count's favourite outdoor exercises are riding and lawn tennis ; indoors he is nearly always writing or playing chess. He is a nonsmoker, a total abstainer, and a vegetarian. Count TolstoTis 72, having been born at Clear Streak, in the government of Toula, on August 28, 1826. He is still active and writes to his friends in England frequently. In one of these letters recently received, the Count mentions that when a youth he played cards and gambled and mixed up with a fast set, and recalls several incidents of his early days which show that his memory is unimpaired. He is interesting himself just now in. the DuborhortsTd, a community of modern martyrs who are being driven from Russia for conscience sake ; and the Count has given his consent — the first such consent that he has given for many years — that one of his works shall be sold instead of being given away, the proceeds to be devoted towards defraying the emigration expenses of these people.

And though the family is wealthy and owns several estates, the Count does not possess a single article of property that he can do without. He gets his books from the Imperial Library, and rarely, if ever, buys a volume. Hundreds of books reach him through the post, and he receives thousands of letters from all parts of the world. He cannot, of course, answer them all, but he rarely leaves a letter unanswered if he is convinced that an answer will do good, and that the writer is sincere. The Count's favourite outdoor exercises are riding and lawn tennis ; indoors he is nearly always writing or playing chess. He is a nonsmoker, a total abstainer, and a vegetarian. Count TolstoTis 72, having been born at Clear Streak, in the government of Toula, on August 28, 1826. He is still active and writes to his friends in England frequently. In one of these letters recently received, the Count mentions that when a youth he played cards and gambled and mixed up with a fast set, and recalls several incidents of his early days which show that his memory is unimpaired. He is interesting himself just now in. the DuborhortsTd, a community of modern martyrs who are being driven from Russia for conscience sake ; and the Count has given his consent — the first such consent that he has given for many years — that one of his works shall be sold instead of being given away, the proceeds to be devoted towards defraying the emigration expenses of these people.

i The Count's strong sympathy -with- all •who are weak, and his antipathy to tho civil and military power, once brought him in conflict with a policeman. . He was walki ing along the street when he Baw an ' officer move a beggar along in a harsh manner, and 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 completely 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 niat- ' ter 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 great deal to raise the standard of fiction 1 in Russia ar.d to purify Russian literature, '. and nobody can tell how and when ihe seed he is patiently sowing among the Russian peasants will bear fruit. But in the loni; run Russia stands to gain and not to lose by sheltering this remarkable man.— Answers. ,