handicraft he may be acquainted with, or in intercourse with his fellow-men (detrimental as likely as not), and a good deal less in reading at any season of the year, for lack of instruction, interest, or books.  On the other hand, this reasonable regime is not practicable for many men of other than peasant rank.  It happens to be perfectly practicable for Count Tolstoy when his health permits.  But as he has also said much about doing everything for one’s self, earning in some form of common labor all that one spends, those who remember this only, and who know how little can be earned by a whole day’s toil in Russia, not to mention toil divided between two branches, which agriculture does not permit, are not altogether to blame for jumping to the conclusion that the count makes no effort to practice what he preaches.  He does what he can.  He is reproached with having made over his property to his wife and with living as before.  It is really difficult to see what other course is open to him.  An unmarried man, under obligations to no one but himself, may reasonably be blamed for not carrying out the doctrine which he volunteers to teach the world.  A married man can only be blamed for volunteering the doctrine.  No blame can possibly attach to the wife who defends the interest of the family to the extent of working havoc with his doctrines.

Even if Count Tolstoy were able to support himself, he certainly could not support a wife and the nine living children out of sixteen which he has had.  There is no justice in expecting the adult members of the family to accept and practice his doctrines.  They do not compel him to accept theirs, though they are in the majority.  The little ones could not feed themselves, even were they ideal peasant children.  It would be nearer the truth to say that the countess has taken possession of the property; she administers it wisely and economically, for the good of the family and her husband.  She issued, about five years ago, a cheaper edition of her husband’s works, the only edition available hitherto having been very expensive.  The wisdom of her step was proved by the large profits derived from it in the course of three years,—­fifty thousand dollars,—­all of which was applied to the needs of the family.

The count is not the only one at Yasnaya Polyana to deny himself.  For the past two winters the whole family have remained on the estate, and have not gone to Moscow, with the exception of one who is in business at the capital, one member who is at his studies, and one who is married and resides on another estate.  This is because the income did not amount to a certain sum, a very moderate sum in American eyes, without which a stay in town would have been imprudent.

The question naturally follows:  If the countess holds the property, and the count continues to get the good of it, in a modest way; if the count does not do everything for himself, and earn his daily bread by manual toil, is not he mentally unbalanced to proclaim his theories to the world, and to change his mind so often on other points?