The answer is:  No.  Undoubtedly the count, when he attained to his convictions on the subject of poverty and labor, hoped to carry his family with him.  The countess, like a brave woman, like a devoted wife and mother, refused to adopt his views.  She is willing to shoulder the responsibility of her refusal, and her conduct is an honor to her.  As for his changes of doctrine, we are all very much like him in the matter of inconsistency.  Only, as very few of us enjoy the renown or the authority of Count Tolstoy, it rarely occurs to us to proclaim our progressive opinions to the world; at most, one or two experiences cure us of that weakness, even if any one thinks it worth while to notice them in the slightest degree.  Very few of us are so deeply rooted in our convictions, or so impressed with their importance to the world as principles, that we will raise a finger to defend them.  We alternately know that we shall never change them again, and suspect that we may see something better at any moment; and we refrain from committing ourselves unnecessarily in any form which can be brought up against us hereafter.

The case is precisely the reverse with Count Tolstoy.  He is so full of the missionary spirit, so persuaded of the truth and value of his beliefs, that he rushes into print with them instantly.  There they are, all ready for those who do not sympathize with him to use as missiles when he gets a new inspiration.  Change of opinion is generally progress.  Continuity, an absolute lack of change, means stagnation and death in the mental as well as in the physical world.  As the count is impressible and reads much, his reading and meditation are fruitful of novelties, which he bravely submits to the judgment of the world without pausing to consider whether they coincide with his other utterances or not.  That he does not always express his abstract ideas clearly is the inevitable result of the lack of philosophical training.

But enthusiastic souls who grieve over the imperfections in the present organization of society are always waiting for some one of warmer zeal to lead them.  Such persons perceive the ideal side of every argument, interpret doctrines with their hearts, not with their heads, and are fired by the newest conception of social relations.  As one of the most marked characteristics of Count Tolstoy lies in infusing his own personality into every word he writes, it is only natural that these people should adopt him as their guide.  It is not the fault of any one in particular that he has abandoned a doctrine by the time others have mastered it.  The only refuge is in the cry of Hamlet:—­

“The time is out of joint; O cursed spite!  That ever I was born to set it right.”

Thus much I think I may say of the home life of the famous Russian writer without sinning against the duties imposed by the frank and cordial hospitality for which we are indebted to the family.  It has seemed time to enter a protest against various misrepresentations and misconceptions in regard to them which are current.  In conclusion, I beg leave to explain that my spelling of the name is that used by themselves when writing in English, and in print upon their French cards.