478 



The Review of Reviews. 



THE RELIGIOUS EVOLUTION OF COUNT TOLSTOY. 



A Batch of New Letters. 



In the Grande Rnme of September 25 and 

 October 10 we have a number of hitherto unpublished 

 letters by Count Tolstoy. 



TOLSTOY AT TWENTY. 



M. E. Halperine-Kaminsky, who has edited and 

 translated them, writes an introduction explaining 

 how he has been enabled to publish them. Addressed 

 to a distant relative, Countess Alexandrine Tolstoy, 

 the letters extend over a period of forty years, 

 1857-1897, but the editor proposes to stop at 

 the year 1877, the time when the moral crisis of 

 Tolstoy had become acute. They are preceded, how- 

 ever, by a few of Tolstoy's letters to his brother, 

 printed here to .show what was the moral state of 

 Tolstoy's mind during the earlier part of his life. In 

 1848,' Tolstoy was just nineteen when he wrote the 

 first letter to his brother Sergius. He had quitted his 

 University studies at Kazan, and was at St. Petersburg 

 "seeking happiness" in a more or less irregular 

 existence. He confesses to Sergius that since he had 

 come to the capital he was fit for nothing ; he had 

 got into debt and was greatly worried. All the letters 

 to the countess refer to the period preceding his 

 transformation from a novelist into an apostle ; in 

 other words, it is the epoch in which his correspond- 

 ence has all the value of strictly private documents. 



COUNTESS ALEXANDRINE TOLSTOY. 



Countess Alexandrine, whom Tolstoy seems to 

 have first met in Switzerland, was only ten years his 

 senior, but he addresses her as Grand'mere. She 

 was attached to the Court in four reigns, a period of 

 nearly sixty years, and was revered by every member 

 of the Imperial family. She diec' in 1904. During 

 the forty years of her correspondence with Tolstoy 

 she followed with sympathy his moral and religious 

 evolution, till he began to attack Christianity in the 

 form adopted by the Church. Then they had to 

 avow • their irreconcilable confessional differences, 

 and "their exchange of letters became less frequent. 

 But the old friendship continued in regard to matters 

 not concerned with religion. 



INFLUENCE OF SPRING. 



In .April, 1858, a letter begins: — 



Grand'mere, spring 1 Nature, the air, evcrylhing is saturated 

 with liope, with a wonderful future. Spring lias such an in- 

 fluence over me that at times I find myself dreaming I am a 

 plant which has developed along with the others, and which 

 will continue to grow simply, quietly, joyously, on God's eartli. 

 On such an occasion there takes place within me an internal 

 purification, co-onlination, such .as no one can possibly imagine 

 without having experienced it. The conventions of the world, 

 vices, regrets, remorse, arc all effaced. 



Tell me what I ought to do when my souvenirs and my dreams 

 are mixed up in an ideal of life to which nothing responds. 

 Everything seems dilTercnt ixom what I desire. One is dis- 

 satisfied and unable to thank God for all the benefits accorded, 

 and the soul is nothing but sadness and discontent. But it is 

 impossible to abandon this ideal. 



There is a reference on June 12th, 1858, to George 



Eliot's " Scenes of Clerical Life," and especially 

 " Janet's Repentance." " It is a religious and moral 

 book which has much pleased me, and has produced 

 a strong impression on me. Strong, no ; nothing has 

 such an influence over me." 



CONFESSION OF FAITH IN 1859. 



In a letter, dated May 3rd, 1859, Tolstoy writes : — 



I will try to make my confession of faith. As a child I 

 believed ardently, sentimentally, and without reflection. After- 

 wards, at fourteen, I began to reflect on life in general ; I came 

 up against religion which did not lend itself to my theories, and, 

 it goes without saying, I regarded it as meiitorious to destroy 

 it. For ten years I lived very quietly without it. Everything 

 was clear to my eyes, everything was logical, and there was no 

 room for religion. The moment had come when everything 

 was opened to my eyes, when there was no more mystery, 

 while life in itself began to lose its significance for me. 



1 was living in the Caucasus, alone and utih.appy. I began 

 to think, with all the force with which a man can think once in 

 his life. I kept an intimate journal, and in re-reading it, I 

 cannot yet understand how a man could arrive at such a degree 

 of intellectual exaltation as that in which I then found myself. 

 It was both good and painful. What I discovered then will remain 

 my conviction all my life. In these two years of intellectual 

 work I found an old and simple thing which I know as no one 

 else knows it. I found that there is such a thing as immortality, 

 and such a thing as love, and that in order to be happy eternally 

 one must live for others. 



A PASSION FOR TRUTH. 



These discoveries startled me by their resemblance to the 

 Christian religion, and then, instead of finding myself, I began 

 to search in the Gospels, but found little there. I did not find 

 God there, or the Redeemer, or anything of that kind ; I 

 searched with all, all, all the strength of my soul. I wept, I 



suffered, and I desired nothing but truth I can say that 



I have seldom found anyone with such a passion to know the 



truth as that which animated me at that time It is certain 



that I love and esteem religion. I believe that without it man 

 can neither be happy nor good. I aspire ardently ; I still hope ; 

 at times, it seems to me that I believe without having religion ; 

 at others, it seems to me that I do not believe. Above all, 

 it is life which makes my religion and not religion which makes 

 my life. 



FINAL RUPTURE WITH HIS FRIEND. 



A letter dated 1862 announces that Tolstoy has 

 fallen in love. Later he says, " I have lived to the 

 age of thirty-four without knowing that one could love 

 so much and be so happy. I will write when I am 

 a little calmer, when I am little more accustomed to 

 the new situation." Though the chief subject of the 

 correspondence was religion, it was religion also 

 which separated Tolstoy and the Countess Alex- 

 andrine. It was in the winter of 1897 that the 

 Countess had the last opportunity of speaking to 

 Tolstoy himself about his unbelief, but no sooner had 

 she mentioned the subject than he broke out into a 

 fury ; " Permit me to say to you, Grand'mere, 1 

 know all about that better than you do. 1 have 

 studied these questions thoroughly, and to my belief 

 I have given my life and my happiness. .And you 

 think you can teach me something. Teach it to 

 those who have need of it — those about you!" 

 Tolstoy and the Countess never saw each other 

 again. The correspondence came to an abrupt 

 termination, but Tolstoy deeply regretted the im- 

 patience which cost him so sincere a friend. 



