imself, 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?

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