_August 9th._ This evening I am going to leave Yasnaya Polyana, where I
have spent nearly a fortnight. The whole time passed wonderfully well.
The days were spent more or less in this way: After breakfast every one
goes to his work. L. N. takes his barley-coffee in a little kettle, and
with the kettle in one hand and a few little pieces of bread in the
other he goes to his room to work there, and does not come out till
lunch.
_A Note without a Date._ In the summer of 1897 the famous Lombroso came
to Yasnaya. I was not at Yasnaya at the time, but from what L. N. and
others told me I can say that Lombroso, whose writings L. N. regarded
without enthusiasm, had made no particular impression personally.
I will give one example to show how superficially and inaccurately
Lombroso related what he saw in Yasnaya. There was a round patch on one
of L. N.’s boots, which came off, and L. N., while waiting to send the
boot to be repaired, wore it with the hole in it. At that time Sophie
Andreevna, I believe, took a snapshot of L. N., and the little hole on
the boot was clearly seen in the photograph. I have that snapshot.
Lombroso, in describing his visit to Yasnaya in the Press and in
numerous interviews, said that L. N. pretended the ‘simple life,’ and,
wanting to show that he wore torn boots, had made a round hole in one
of them, evidently cut on purpose.
1899
_May 11th._ The conversation turned upon Katkov. L. N. expressed the
opinion that Katkov was not clever. Sophie Andreevna became annoyed and
said:
“Any one who disagrees with us must be a fool.”
To which L. N. said:
“The mark of foolish people is: when you say anything to them they
never answer your words, but keep on repeating their own. That was
always Katkov’s way. That is why I say that Katkov was a stupid man.
Now, there is something of the same sort in Chicherin, yet can they be
put even approximately on the same level?
“Though,” L. N. added, “one has to respect every one. Among the virtues
the Chinese place respect first. Simply, without any relation to
anything definite. Respect for the individual and for the opinion of
every man.”
The conversation turned upon ancient languages and classical education.
L. N. said:
“When I studied and read a great deal of Greek, I could easily
understand almost any Greek book. I used to be at the examinations
in the Lyceum, and saw that nearly always the pupil only understood
what he had learnt beforehand. He did not understand new passages.
And, indeed, at school for every fifty words that were learnt at least
sixty-five rules were taught. In such a way one can’t learn anything.
“I am always surprised how firmly all sorts of superstitions possess
people. Superstitions, such as the Church, the Tsar, the army, etc.,
live for centuries, and people have got so accustomed to them that they
are not now thought to be strange. But the superstition of classical
education arose with us in Russia before my very eyes. Above all, not
one of the most zealous partisans of classical education can give a
single sensible argument in favour of the system.” Then L. N. added:
“There is also the superstition of the possibility of a ‘school’ in
art. Hence all institutes and academies. The abnormal form which
art takes now, however, is not the root of the evil, but one of its
symptoms. When the religious conception of life changes, then art,
too, will find its true methods.”