The Forged Coupon | Page 7

a man's actions justly one must be able
to appreciate the motives from which they spring; those motives in turn
requiring the key which lies in his temperament, his associations, his
nationality. Such a key is peculiarly necessary to English or American
students of Tolstoy, because of the marked contrast existing between
the Russian and the Englishman or American in these respects, a
contrast by which Tolstoy himself was forcibly struck during the visit
to Switzerland, of which mention has been already made. It is difficult
to restrain a smile at the poignant mental discomfort endured by the
sensitive Slav in the company of the frigid and silent English
frequenters of the Schweitzerhof ("Journal of Prince D. Nekhludov,"
Lucerne, 1857), whose reserve, he realised, was "not based on pride,
but on the absence of any desire to draw nearer to each other"; while he
looked back regretfully to the pension in Paris where the table d' hote
was a scene of spontaneous gaiety. The problem of British taciturnity
passed his comprehension; but for us the enigma of Tolstoy's
temperament is half solved if we see him not harshly silhouetted
against a blank wall, but suffused with his native atmosphere, amid his
native surroundings. Not till we understand the main outlines of the
Russian temperament can we realise the individuality of Tolstoy
himself: the personality that made him lovable, the universality that
made him great.
So vast an agglomeration of races as that which constitutes the Russian
empire cannot obviously be represented by a single type, but it will
suffice for our purposes to note the characteristics of the inhabitants of
Great Russia among whom Tolstoy spent the greater part of his lifetime
and to whom be belonged by birth and natural affinities.
It may be said of the average Russian that in exchange for a precocious
childhood he retains much of a child's lightness of heart throughout his

later years, alternating with attacks of morbid despondency. He is
usually very susceptible to feminine charm, an ardent but unstable
lover, whose passions are apt to be as shortlived as they are violent.
Story-telling and long-winded discussions give him keen enjoyment,
for he is garrulous, metaphysical, and argumentative. In money matters
careless and extravagant, dilatory and venal in affairs; fond, especially
in the peasant class, of singing, dancing, and carousing; but his
irresponsible gaiety and heedlessness of consequences balanced by a
fatalistic courage and endurance in the face of suffering and danger.
Capable, besides, of high flights of idealism, which result in epics, but
rarely in actions, owing to the Slavonic inaptitude for sustained and
organised effort. The Englishman by contrast appears cold and
calculating, incapable of rising above questions of practical utility;
neither interested in other men's antecedents and experiences nor
willing to retail his own. The catechism which Plato puts Pierre through
on their first encounter ("War and Peace") as to his family, possessions,
and what not, are precisely similar to those to which I have been
subjected over and over again by chance acquaintances in
country-houses or by fellow travellers on journeys by boat or train. The
naivete and kindliness of the questioner makes it impossible to resent,
though one may feebly try to parry his probing. On the other hand he
offers you free access to the inmost recesses of his own soul, and
stupefies you with the candour of his revelations. This, of course,
relates more to the landed and professional classes than to the peasant,
who is slower to express himself, and combines in a curious way a firm
belief in the omnipotence and wisdom of his social superiors with a
rooted distrust of their intentions regarding himself. He is like a beast
of burden who flinches from every approach, expecting always a kick
or a blow. On the other hand, his affection for the animals who share
his daily work is one of the most attractive points in his character, and
one which Tolstoy never wearied of emphasising-- describing, with the
simple pathos of which he was master, the moujik inured to his own
privations but pitiful to his horse, shielding him from the storm with his
own coat, or saving him from starvation with his own meagre ration;
and mindful of him even in his prayers, invoking, like Plato, the
blessings of Florus and Laura, patron saints of horses, because "one
mustn't forget the animals."

The characteristics of a people so embedded in the soil bear a closer
relation to their native landscape than our own migratory populations,
and patriotism with them has a deep and vital meaning, which is
expressed unconsciously in their lives.
This spirit of patriotism which Tolstoy repudiated is none the less the
animating power of the noble epic, "War and Peace," and of his
peasant-tales, of his rare gift of reproducing