UNIVERSITY OF CAIiIFORNIA PRIZE ESSAYS 
 
 VOLUME I 
 
 THE 
 
 TRUXTUN BEALE PRIZE ESSAYS 
 
 ON 
 
 TOLSTOY'S WHAT SHALL WE DO THEN? 
 
 UNIVERSITY OP CALIFORNIA PRESS 
 
 BERKELEY 
 
 1912
 
 y\ \^ SANTA BARBARA COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
 S^lo 57173 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 Introductory Note 5 
 
 Tolstoy and the Social Problems of Today, by Bayard Hale 
 Jones 7 
 
 The Value of Tolstoy's What Is To Be Done? to the Present Re- 
 building of the Social Structure, by Sheldon Warren Cheney. 55 
 
 The Value of the Ideal of Social Reconstruction set forth in Tol- 
 stoy's WJmt Shall We Bo Then?, by Stith Thompson 123 
 
 Tolstoy's What Shall We Do Then? — A Problem and an Attempt 
 at a Solution, by Newton Bishop Drury 177 
 
 The Social Validity of Tolstoy's What Is To Be Done?, by Lillian 
 Ruth Matthews 219 
 
 [3]
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 In March, 1911, Mr. Truxtun Beale, a member of the Board of 
 Regents, gave to the University of California the sum of one thousand 
 dollars, to be used for a first prize of six hundred dollars, and a second 
 prize of four hundred dollars, for essays on the work of Leo Tolstoy, 
 What Shall We Do Then? At the suggestion of the committee placed 
 in charge of these prizes, the competition was made open to students in 
 any department of the University of California, and to holders of a 
 bachelor's degree of a date not earlier than May, 1908. The choice 
 of the more particular subjects for the essays was left to the 
 writers, with the restriction that each essay must deal with the 
 fundamental ideas of What Shall We Do Then?, not merely with its 
 style or literary form or with insignificant details of its subject- 
 matter. 
 
 Twenty essays were presented in competition for the Truxtun 
 Beale Prizes. Professor Leo Wiener of Harvard University (depart- 
 ment of Slavic Languages), Professor A. G. Newcomer of the Leland 
 Stanford Junior University (department of English), and Professor 
 W. C. Mitchell of the University of California (department of 
 Economics) kindly consented to act as judges. They awarded the 
 first prize to 
 
 Bayard Hale Jones, A.B., 1906, 
 a student in the Graduate School, 
 and the second prize to 
 
 Sheldon Warren Cheney, A.B., 1908. 
 Of the following persons they made honorable mention, and recom- 
 mended that their essays be published together with those to which 
 prizes were awarded: 
 
 Stith Thompson, A.B. (University of Wisconsin), 1909, 
 a student in the Graduate School; 
 
 Newton Bishop Drury, of the class of 1912; 
 
 Lillian Ruth Matthews, Ph.B. (University of Iowa), 1903, 
 a student in the Graduate School; 
 
 Mart Ada Pence, A.B. 1910. 
 
 [5]
 
 The Editorial Committee of the University of California, acting 
 on the recommendation of the committee in charge of the Truxtun 
 Beale Prizes, voted to establish a Prize Essay Series, of which these 
 six essays should constitute the first volume. In a revised form the 
 first five of them are now printed; Miss Pence withdrew her essay 
 from publication. 
 
 The present volume may thus be regarded as fairly representa- 
 tive of the best thought upon social themes of the students and the 
 younger graduates of the University of California. It commemorates 
 Mr. Beale 's generosity and his interest in the intellectual welfare 
 of the University, and is at the same time an indication of the 
 stimulating power of the writings of Leo Tolstoy. 
 
 16]
 
 TOLSTOY AND THE SOCIAL PROBLEMS OF TODAY 
 
 BY 
 
 BAYARD HALE JONES, 
 A.B., 1906; M.A., 1907
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. The Great Precursor 9 
 
 II. What Shall We Do Then? 11 
 
 III. Tolstoy's Place in Russian Thought 21 
 
 IV. Criticism of Tolstoy's Thought 25 
 
 (a) View of Society 25 
 
 (&) Economic Theory 29 
 
 (c) Sociological Theory 36 
 
 (d) Conclusions 40 
 
 V. The Problems of Today 42 
 
 [8]
 
 TOLSTOY AND THE SOCIAL PROBLEMS 
 OF TODAY 
 
 I. THE GREAT PRECURSOR 
 
 The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the 
 way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our 
 God. 
 
 Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall 
 be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rougi 
 places plain: 
 
 And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall 
 see it together. — Isa. xl. 3-5. 
 
 And he shall go before Him in the spirit and power of Elias, to 
 turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient 
 to the wisdom of the just; to make ready a people prepared for 
 the Lord. — Luke i. 17. 
 
 Then said he to the multitude . . . ., O generation of vipers, who 
 hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 
 
 Bring forth therefore fruits worthy of repentance. . . . 
 
 And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees: every 
 tree therefore which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, 
 and cast into the fire. 
 
 And the people asked him, saying, What shall we do then? 
 
 He answereth and saith unto them, He that hath two coats, let 
 him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him 
 do likewise. — Luke iii. 7-11. 
 
 There was a man sent from God. . . . 
 
 The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the Light, that 
 all men might believe. 
 
 He was not that Light, but was sent to bear witness of that Light. 
 
 That was the true Light, that lighteth every man that cometh into 
 the world. — John i. 6-9. 
 
 [9]
 
 10 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. i 
 
 Russia is the last stronghold of the Middle Ages. It 
 has been the latest of all the European nations to awake 
 to the modern day. A horde of barbarians at the accession 
 of Peter the Great, its development as a modern nation 
 has been a recent matter. Hampered always by the fetters 
 of an intolerable autocracy, it is not strange that it is still 
 behind other countries. Its means of communication 
 are primitive and inadequate. Natural resources have been 
 developed, if at all, largely by foreign enterprise, as with 
 the great holdings of American capitalists in the Russian 
 petroleum fields. Even agriculture is at the lowest ebb 
 of efficiency of any country of Europe. There is no univer- 
 sal system of popular education. The Church is still 
 medieval in method, organization, and spirit. And feudal- 
 ism is still entrenched in the enormous holdings of the 
 grand dukes. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is a nation of enormous latent forces. 
 Physically, its people are the cream of Europe, sound and 
 strong, the result of generations of honest labor, unspoiled 
 by the taints of luxury and dissipation — own brothers of 
 the Vikings and the Goths. Morally, they are sober, de- 
 vout, hard-working, deeply in earnest; and under all 
 repression they have cherished the lurking fire of a high 
 and passionate spirit, whose courage and whose imagina- 
 tion may some day lead the world. 
 
 It is this nation whose voice we hear in Tolstoy. It is 
 the voice of genius indeed, but of a genius undisciplined, 
 only partly civilized. There is the primitive standpoint, the 
 simple passion for justice, the fierce indignation at the 
 wrongs of the social order, the naive struggle for the light. 
 It is a voice crying in the wilderness, — barbaric possibly, 
 but aflame with the passion for righteousness, preaching 
 a gospel of repentance to an unrighteous and degenerate 
 age : a message, to be sure, largely negative and partial, for 
 he himself is not the true Light, but the herald of a new 
 era. And he seems singularly like that other great Pre- 
 cursor, who came "in the spirit and power of Elias," to 
 preach his gospel of repentance unto life.
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 11 
 
 The one fact that stands out most plainly in his work 
 is the extraordinary vividness of its presentation. It is the 
 voice of a prophet, an apostle, a reformer, with a burning 
 message to the souls of men. He speaks with the authority 
 of conscience. Society must be reconstructed from the 
 bottom upward. All men must utterly change their 
 thoughts and lives. It is not a mere sociologist who is 
 speaking to us : it is the Tolstoy of the great epic novels, 
 the Tolstoy of titanic emotions, the Tolsto^^ who "thinks 
 in facts. "^ 
 
 For it is true that his system was not the result of 
 abstract theorizing, but the immediate, and, to him, inevit- 
 able deduction from the most concrete experiences. And 
 this is detailed in What Shall We Do Thenf 
 
 II. WHAT SHALL WE DO THEN? 
 
 All of Tolstoy's life, he tells us, had been passed in The Poor 
 the country, until he moved to Moscow in the year 1881. " "^''"^ 
 Then, for the first time, he found himself face to face 
 with the problem of the very poor in a great city. 
 
 He set himself to investigate the fifty thousand desti- 
 tute of Moscow. He visited the Lyapinski House, one of 
 the free night-lodging houses by which wealthy philan- 
 thropists have tried to mitigate the miseries of the home- 
 less poor. In ruinous rags and unmistakable wretchedness, 
 these people crowded around him ; and in his sympathy, 
 he first gave them warm drink, then money — and very 
 naturally precipitated a small riot, and went home feeling 
 ashamed of himself. 
 
 There I entered along the carpeted steps into the rug-covered 
 hall, and, having taken off my fur coat, sat down to a meal of five 
 courses, served by two footmen in livery, with white ties and white 
 gloves.2 
 
 iM. Walter, Tolstoi (Zurich, 1906), p. 5. 
 
 2 Tolstoy, What Is To Be Done?, translated by I. F. Hapgood (New 
 York, Crowell, 1899), p. 13; cf. What Shall We Do Then?, translated 
 by Leo Wiener (Boston, Estes, 1905), p. 14.
 
 12 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. i 
 
 I realized not only with my brain, but in every pulse of my soul, 
 that, whilst there were thousands of such sufferers in Moscow, I 
 with tens of thousands of others filled myself daily to repletion 
 with luxurious dainties of every description, took the tenderest care 
 of my horses, and clothed my very floor with velvet carpets! .... 
 Yet I . . . . therefore felt, and feel, and can never cease to feel, 
 myself a partaker in a crime which is continually being committed, 
 so long as I have superfluous food while others have none, so long 
 as I have two coats whilst there exists one man without any.3 
 
 Charities 
 
 Labor and 
 Happiness 
 
 Something must be done; and Tolstoy launched into 
 a scheme of charitable relief, soliciting money from the 
 rich to aid the poor, and collecting social data in connec- 
 tion with the current official census to guide him, in order 
 that they, the rich, might go on living in all their luxury, 
 without being rebuked by the acute misery of the poor. 
 
 One of the first facts that impressed itself upon him in 
 this work w^as that the need of these people was not 
 only for the necessities of life, but for life itself : that their 
 existence was not confined to working, eating, and sleeping, 
 but comprised also leisure and pleasure; and that any 
 intelligent plan of helping them must comprehend these 
 too. In other words, they were human, just like himself; 
 how could he help them? 
 
 And though the census officials found many cases of 
 poverty and privation, their interrogations repeatedly 
 brought out the fact that the outright gift of money would 
 be either useless or positively harmful. Some of them were 
 happy enough as they were ; and those who were not w^ould 
 be unhappy still, under changed surroundings, since the 
 cause of their unhappiness lay within them. 
 
 Some had formerly been in a privileged position ("I 
 call such persons privileged who receive more from others 
 than they give in return"*) ; and these, amiable and weak, 
 he could not help as long as their conception of life re- 
 mained the same. For they did not differ in any essential 
 
 3 yVhat Is To Be Done? pp. 13, 14 (tr. Wiener, p. 15).
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 13 
 
 from the rich people about them, since the rich also "are 
 discontented with their lot, and regret the past, and desire 
 a happier future, precisely as did the wretched tenants 
 of the Rzhanov houses. Both wish to work less, and to be 
 worked for more, the difference between them being only 
 in degrees of idleness."^ 
 
 The wretchedness of the women of the town also was 
 due to the same fundamental fault, to a conception of life 
 that made it possible for them to live upon others' exer- 
 tions instead of their own ; and here again Tolstoy finds 
 a terrible parallel in the futile lives of wealthy women, who 
 are also content to exist, avoiding family duties and the 
 obligation of labor. 
 
 And even in any attempt to do anything for the chil- 
 dren, w^e find the same trouble. The moment we try to 
 take them out of their old environment, and educate them 
 in ours, they are bound to follow our example in the face 
 of our precept. We cannot teach a child the fundamental 
 lesson of life, "^.e., how to take less from others, and give 
 more in return, ' ' ^ when he sees that it is possible for him 
 "in a respectable position, to live without working, eat 
 and drink well, and lead a merry life. ' ' ^ And ' ' to teach 
 him how to earn his living is, for us who have not been 
 earning ours, but have been doing just the contrary, not 
 only difficult, but quite impossible. ' ' ^ 
 
 But at last he found what he "had been looking for, — Collapse of 
 
 ° ' Tolstoy's Plan 
 
 a hungry being," ^ in the person of a starving woman of 
 the town. He gave her a ruble ; and then in the self-gratu- 
 lation of this deed proceeded to distribute alms indiscrim- 
 inately to everybody around him — and of course evoked 
 another disgraceful mob of beggars ; and then went home in 
 
 *Ibid., p. 50 (tr. Wiener, p. 58). 
 ^ Ibid., p. 34 (tr. Wiener, p. 39). 
 6 Ibid., p. 44 (tr. Wiener, p. 50). 
 ■! Ibid., p. 42 (tr. Wiener, p. 49). 
 ^Ibid., p. 43 (tr. Wiener, p. 50). 
 Ibid., p. 45 (tr. Wiener, p. 52).
 
 14 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 disgust, very correctly feeling that ' ' each one of them .... 
 regarded me only as a purse out of which money could 
 be abstracted."^" He did not have the heart to collect 
 the subscriptions which his rich friends had made at his 
 instance; and found himself finally with some thirty-seven 
 rubles — his own pay and that of some of his assistants in 
 the Census — which he felt he must distribute. This he 
 finally accomplished, very unsatisfactorily, with the assist- 
 ance of an innkeeper, and with the full consciousness that 
 every kopek of it would go for drink. 
 
 Thus ended all my benevolent enterprises; and I left for the 
 country, vexed with everyone, as it always happens when one does 
 something foolish and harmful. Nothing came of it all, except the 
 train of thoughts and feelings which it called forth in me, which 
 not only did not cease, but doubly agitated my mind.n 
 
 ' ' What did it all mean ? " In the country, his charities 
 had really helped others, and satisfied himself. But here : 
 
 Meaning of I saw in these dens .... men whom it was impossible for me 
 
 the Failure to help, because they were working-men, accustomed to labor and 
 privation, and therefore having a much firmer hold on life than I 
 had. On the other hand, I saw miserable men whom I could not 
 aid because they were just such as I was myself. The majority of 
 the poor whom I saw were wretched, merely because they had lost 
 the capacity, desire, and habit of earning their bread; in other 
 words, their misery consisted in the fact that they were just like 
 myself. . . . And my principal conviction now was that, with money, 
 I could never reform the life of misery which these people led. 12 
 
 lie could no longer be content to deal with vague moral 
 aphorisms, but was compelled to deduce clearly the meaning 
 of his actual experience, and then firmly apply it in his own 
 life. 
 
 10 What Is To Be Done? p. 47 (tr Wiener, p. 54). 
 
 11 Ibid., p. 53 (tr. Wiener, p. 61). 
 ^2 Ibid., p. 54 (tr. Wiener, p. 64).
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy arid Social Problems 15 
 
 What, then, was the secret of city misery? The coun- Causes of 
 try people will tell you that they came from the country ' ^ '^^"^^ 
 to the city to get a living. But how can this be, when the 
 country is the real source of all wealth? Evidently, it can 
 only mean that we have taken the natural wealth away from 
 the country by some unfair means. The peasant follows 
 it to the city, to regain his share of it, and is then cor- 
 rupted by the example of the idle and dissolute lives that 
 he sees there. 
 
 Therefore, real charity is impossible, for the peasant can 
 see in me only "one of those persons who have become pos- 
 sessed of what should belong to him. And what other feel- 
 ing can he have toward me but the desire to get back as 
 many as possible of these rubles which were taken by me 
 from him and from others. ' ' ^^ Charity can take place 
 only through personal contact and influence : yet all our 
 wealth, our etiquette, dress, dwellings, traveling, excessive 
 cleanliness, exclusive education, are so many impassible bar- 
 riers between us. And the rich can never really help the 
 poor, as long as they retain possession of the magic purse 
 with the never-failing ruble, which allows them to live idly 
 on the labors of others. For at the bottom of the whole 
 problem is the iniquity of money. 
 
 Money, says Tolstoy, is not a representative of labor. Factors of 
 or a medium of exchange. Nor is it one of a natural divi- Production 
 sion of the factors of production, into land, labor, and 
 capital; for no such division is valid. A laborer is not 
 a laborer without the tools with which he works — i.e., 
 capital — and without land on which to work. 
 
 In other words, science recognizes as a right that which has never 
 existed, and cannot exist, and which is in itself a contradiction, 
 because the claim of the landowner to the land on which he does 
 not labor is in essence nothing more than the right to use the land 
 which he does not use; the claim on the tools of others is nothing 
 
 13 Ibid., p. 68 (tr. "Wiener, p. 80).
 
 16 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 more than a man assuming a right to work with implements with 
 which he does not work. 
 
 The question of economic science is this: What is the reason 
 of the fact that some men by means of money acquire an imaginary 
 right to the land and capital, and may make slaves of those men 
 who have no money? The answer which presents itself to common 
 sense would be that it is the result of money, the nature of which 
 is to enslave men.i* 
 
 The Slavery 
 of Money 
 
 Defenses of 
 Present Stati 
 
 Among primitive peoples, money does not exist. But 
 invaders come, and carry off plunder; come again, and 
 appropriate the land, making the people their serfs. Final- 
 ly, they levy a forced tax in some arbitrary medium of 
 exchange. This is money. 
 
 Such has been the general history of civilization. In 
 the ancient world, personal slavery was the prevailing 
 mode ; in the Middle Ages, feudalism, or the servitude based 
 on land-ownership ; and in modern times, with the increase 
 of gold, money. In brief: "Money is an inoffensive medium 
 of exchange only when it is not collected with violence, or 
 when loaded guns are not directed from the seashore 
 against the defenseless inhabitants. ' ' ^^ 
 
 The means of this slavery is hu7iger: for the rich once 
 having gotten possession of the necessities of life (just as 
 in the biblical story of Joseph and the corn of Egypt), can 
 compel those who lack them to do their will, or starve. And 
 in this state of affairs, w^hoever owns property becomes pos- 
 sessed of this same power of life and death, and is a partici- 
 pator in the tyranny. 
 
 Realizing these patent iniquities of the present social 
 order, we can no longer accept any of the historical 
 justifications that have been made for it. Of these, the 
 oldest is the Church-Christian, according to which some 
 are ordained of God to rule, and others to obey. This arose 
 as soon as men began to confuse the simple ethical teach- 
 
 14 What Is To Be Done? p. 91 (tr. Wiener, p. 108). 
 i'ilbid., p. 103 (tr. Wiener, p. 120).
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 17 
 
 ings of Christ with the dogmas of the Church, and to think 
 that as long as they accepted the dogmas, they could "con- 
 tinue to live in an evil way, and none the less be 
 Christians. ' ' ^^ 
 
 The second is the State-philosophical, the fruit of 
 Hegelian idealism, whereby the State is the result of a 
 genetic idea, and the expression of a developing person- 
 ality; and hence necessary and right. The popularity of 
 this theory also depended on the fact that it too "justified 
 men in their bad mode of life." ^^ 
 
 Finally, the Science of the present day, boasting itself 
 the first and only really scientific science, based solely on 
 facts, claims to find that the State is an organism, with an 
 appropriate division of function between its various organs : 
 so that "some men perform in societies the muscular part 
 of labor, and others the mental. ' ' ^^ But the result of this 
 theory is that even idleness is comprehended in its organic 
 division ; the present unrighteous condition is approved just 
 as it stands ; and men are justified, again, in their immoral 
 lives. 
 
 For even if a di\'ision of labor is natural to all societies, Di'<'ision 
 
 of Labor 
 
 we must still ask, Is the existing division the proper one? 
 We must apply one test to every activity, — "the demand 
 of such labor by other men, and a voluntary compensation 
 offered for it by them. "^^ And as long as there remain 
 people who exempt themselves from the common duty of 
 laboring without the general consent of the laborers, and 
 in defiance of their just demand for their services, then 
 just so long this "division of labor" cannot be called 
 organic. 
 
 Hence our present education is unjustifiable, in that Education 
 the young of the privileged classes are enabled to spend 
 many years of their lives in acquiring an education at the 
 
 10 Ibid., p. 185 (tr. Wiener, p. 224). 
 T-T Ibid., p. 189 (tr. Wiener, p. 227). 
 isjbtd., p. 184 (tr. Wiener, p. 223). 
 i^ Ibid., p. 203 (tr. Wiener, p. 244).
 
 18 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 expense of the laborers, merely on their promise to do them 
 some unintelligible and undesired service in the future. 
 Not only is the recompense thus exacted before the ser- 
 vice, but the system of education itself is hopelessly out 
 of tune with its object. 
 
 Chiefly they pass their best years in losing the habit of life, that 
 is, of laboring, and accustom themselves to consider their own posi- 
 tion justified, and thus become physically good-for-nothing parasites, 
 and mentally dislocate their brains, and lose all power of thought- 
 productiveness.2o 
 
 We are still conversing among ourselves, and teaching each other, 
 and amusing ourselves, and have quite forgotten them [the people] : 
 .... we study them and represent them for our own pleasure and 
 amusement: we have quite forgotten that it is our duty, not to 
 study and depict, but to serve them. 21 
 
 Science Likewise, the much-lauded advances of science, some- 
 
 times cited as a defense of the present organization of 
 society, represent only the incidental benefits of an actual 
 evil. The workingman is really worse off than before. A 
 peasant may ride on the railway instead of walking; but 
 that very railway has destroyed his forest, and carried 
 away his bread from under his very nose. There are tele- 
 graphs "which he is not forbidden to use, but which he 
 does not use because he cannot afford it, " ^^ by means of 
 which his produce is bought up at low prices before he 
 knows it is in demand. He can buy cheap — and poor — 
 machine-made calico ; yet these same machines have en- 
 slaved him. The harm is real, the benefit triflng. The fact 
 that we can light our pipes with the coals of a conflagration 
 does not make the conflagration beneficial. 
 
 True Art To bc sure, there is a true "science — human reasonable 
 
 activity — and art, — the expression of this reasonable ac- 
 
 20 II hat Is To Be Done? p. 206 (tr. Wiener, p. 248). 
 
 21 Ibid., p. 210 (tr. Wiener, p. 253). 
 
 22 Ibid., p. 215 (tr. Wiener, p. 259).
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 19 
 
 tivity. ' ' -^ For ' ' science and art are as necessary to men 
 as food, drink, and clothes, — even still more necessary than 
 these. ' ' -* And above all, there is a science of sciences, 
 the science of life and conduct; and a universal art, the 
 expression of this science. This is religion. But the cur- 
 rent so-called science and art are not really such, because 
 they do not have men's welfare at heart; and they can 
 never come into their rightful place until they become com- 
 pletely altruistic. 
 
 And so to right the great social inequality, we must Property 
 attack the basis of it, property, which, Tolstoy says, is ''the 
 root of all evil. ' ' -^ For ' ' we know .... that property is 
 only the means of utilizing other men's labor. And an- 
 other's labor can by no means belong to me. . . . Man has 
 always been calling his own that which is subject to his 
 own will and joined with his own consciousness. ' ' -** Yet 
 the only thing that is truly one's property, in this sense, 
 subject to him alone, and not to be taken away by anyone 
 else, is his own body. All other property is a fiction and 
 a delusion. 
 
 So in the light of this philosophy of experience, Tolstoy's Tolstoy's 
 duty became perfectly plain to him. Conventional philan- 
 thropy was impossible. 
 
 I wished to help the needy, only because I had money to spare; 
 and I shared the general superstition that money is the represen- 
 tative of labor, and, generally speaking, something lawful and good 
 in itself. But, having begun to give this money away, I saw that 
 I was only drawing bills of exchange collected by me from poor 
 people; that I was doing the very thing the old landlords used 
 to do in compelling some of their serfs to work for other serfs.27 
 
 The true solution is much simpler. It is what ethical 
 leaders have always taught. Its essence is contained in 
 
 Solution 
 
 23 Ibid., p. 225 (tr. Wiener, p. 272). 
 2ilbid., p. 226 (tr. Wiener, p. 272). 
 2^ Ibid., p. 266 (tr. Wiener, p. 318). 
 2Qlbid., p. 266 (tr. Wiener, p. 319). 
 2T Ibid., p. 136 (tr. Wiener, p. 165).
 
 20 University of California Prize Essays ["Vol. i 
 
 the answer of John the Baptist to the question put him 
 by his would-be followers in the desert, "What shall we 
 do then ? " : "He that hath two coats, let him impart to him 
 that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do like- 
 wise. "^^. It is the gospel of renunciation and altruism. "I 
 understood that man, besides living for his own good, must 
 work for the good of others."^® "I came to the simple 
 and natural conclusion, that if I pity the exhausted horse 
 on whose back I ride, the first thing for me to do, if I 
 really pity him, is to get off him and walk. ' ' ^° He must 
 no longer take part in the enslaving of men. He must 
 follow the answer of the Precursor, "not to have more than 
 one coat, and not to possess money, — that is, not to profit 
 by another man's labor; and in order not to utilize an- 
 other's labor, we must do with our own hands all that we 
 can do. ' ' ^^ 
 
 Thus he must share in "the first and unquestionable 
 duty of a man . . . ., to take part in the struggle with 
 nature for his own life, and for the lives of other men. ' ' ^- 
 In other words, he must earn his own living from the soil, 
 serve himself, and make his intangible intellectual activities 
 an avocation only. 
 
 This program, if conscientiously carried out, would turn 
 the idlers into producers, and abolish all the misery they 
 have caused; would give all men a normal and vital exist- 
 ence; would reunite the alienated strata of society in a 
 common brotherhood ; and would remove the danger of that 
 explosion of the suppressed forces, that socialistic revolution 
 that is always imminent throughout Europe, especially in 
 a country like Russia, which "has no safety-valves." ^^ So 
 
 28 Luke iii. 10, 11; What Is To Be Done? p. 137 (tr. Wiener, p. 
 166). 
 
 29 What Is To Be Bone? p. 138 (tr. Wiener, p. 167). 
 so Ibid., p. 141 (tr. Wiener, p. 171). 
 
 SI Ibid., p. 142 (tr. Wiener, p. 172). 
 32 Ibid., p. 246 (tr. Wiener, p. 295). 
 S3 Ibid., p. 262 (tr. Wiener, p. 314).
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 21 
 
 gradually, good men will join this movement: "and thus 
 it will come to pass that men will cease to ruin themselves, 
 and will find out happiness."^* 
 
 In this they will find their inspiration in woman, who 
 does her duty to her uttermost, in a self-sacrificing labor 
 that is its O'uti perfect reward, putting to shame the idle 
 and unjust life of man: and in her hands, says Tolstoy, 
 "more than in those of any others, lies the salvation of 
 the world. "35 
 
 III. TOLSTOY'S PLACE IN RUSSIAN THOUGHT 
 
 Such is Tolstoy's argument in itself. Yet in spite of 
 all its convincing immediacy, its deep seriousness, and 
 its direct force, we shall not get a correct estimate of the 
 real significance of Tolstoy's philosophy if we attempt to 
 interpret it in and for itself. Its partial and inadequate 
 character becomes too promptly and painfully evident ; and 
 we are in some danger of throwing out of court entirely the 
 burning words of one who, though he did not see and state 
 the whole truth, still pointed out some of the most funda- 
 mental and vital problems of the time, and was no mean 
 precursor of the new age. Tolstoy's work is palpably a 
 reaction ; and as such it is not to be understood apart from 
 the conditions and influences against which he reacted. 
 
 The old regime of feudal serfdom, indefensible as it was collectivism 
 in itself, still approximated in some respects that very col- 
 lective ownership of land and that corporate system of 
 labor which is one of the ideals of socialism. The super- 
 vision of the great landlords, again, was often paternal 
 and kindly; the laws forbade drastic cruelty to the serfs; 
 while in any event the landlord was obliged to provide for 
 them in siclaiess, age, or misfortune. It was therefore 
 quite natural that there should be a considerable school 
 
 34/6ic7., p. 272 (tr. Wiener, p. 325). 
 35 Ibid., p. 281 (tr. Wiener, p. 340).
 
 22 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. v 
 
 Humanism 
 
 Individualism 
 
 Bealism 
 
 of Russian writers, who, following the reasonings of Fourier, 
 championed the ideal of a collective socialism for the funda- 
 mental constitution of society. And the influence of this 
 school has affected the course of all Russian thought ever 
 since. 
 
 After the Crimean War, however, it was evident that 
 forces both from without and from within were compelling 
 a change-, in the existing order, and the abolition of the 
 system of serfdom. Interest was concentrated on the con- 
 dition of the peasantry, with sympathy for their hardships, 
 and plans for ameliorating their lot; and the period of 
 "Russian Humanism" followed. In this agitation the 
 principles of Fourier 's collectivism came again to the front. 
 In the face of the prevailing regime, it was now explicitly 
 argued that the land belonged to those who cultivated 
 it ; that capital and all the means of production belonged 
 to associations of producers ; and that the individual 
 had a right to the full value of his exertions.^^ In other 
 words, there now appeared the great modern social prob- 
 lem, the right of labor, as against the ancient right of 
 property. 
 
 This last tendency was greatly reenforced by reasonings 
 from an almost precisely opposite quarter, in the writings 
 of Pierre Joseph Proudhon. His starting-point w^s not 
 a collective society, but an absolute individualism; and he 
 expressed most powerfully the integrity and importance of 
 personality, and the necessity for its full and harmonious 
 development. In its genesis, his system was a reaction 
 against the French bureaucracy of his day ; and the political 
 conclusions of the movement under the oppressive autocracy 
 of Russia were an absolute negation of all compulsive 
 authority, which in the end seriously advocated anarchy 
 as a social ideal. 
 
 But at this time the great advances in theoretical and 
 applied science in the first part of the nineteenth century 
 
 85 Cf. Walter, Tolstoi, p. 23.
 
 1^12] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 23 
 
 seemed to many to be opening a new era of material com- 
 fort and intellectual development. In all the literature 
 of the period, we see how these stirring discoveries fired 
 the imaginations of the highest minds. The millennium 
 of culture had come. As Pisarev said,^'' there was only- 
 one evil in mankind — ignorance; and for this evil, only 
 one remedy — science. This development of Individualism 
 is known as Eealism; and according to it, scientific educa- 
 tion is the sole means necessary for the solution of social 
 questions, and the abolition of all social misery. 
 
 It is accordingly in connection with this over-sanguine 
 optimism that we are to interpret Tolstoy 's diatribes against 
 scientific knowledge and achievements. A wholesale deroga- 
 tion of science itself is, in this age, unintelligible; but as 
 a reaction, a protest against another one-sided position, it 
 has its value. 
 
 Finally, there was the political doctrine of Hegelian Positivism 
 idealism, which regarded the State as a necessary form of 
 the development of personality. This, as Tolstoy intimates, 
 was eagerly accepted among the intellectual classes, whose 
 idleness it justified. But later it was completely supplanted 
 by the Positivist doctrine of society as an organism, with 
 its corollary of a corresponding division of labor among its 
 parts. This, too, was seized upon by the ruling classes 
 as a justification for idleness ; and it is as such that Tolstoy 
 attacks it. 
 
 "We must not forget, then, that Tolstoy is speaking from Tolstoy's 
 a country still in the penumbra of the Middle Ages, im- inheritance 
 perfectly developed economically, and with the most des- 
 potic system of government in Europe; a country where 
 the collision of old and new, of absolutism and individual- 
 ism, of property and of human rights, is more acute, be- 
 cause so inchoate, than it is anywhere else, — where all the 
 problems of ci\nlization are felt most sharply, for civiliza- 
 tion has still to realize itself there. He is in complete 
 
 30 Cited by Walter, Tolstoi, p. 35.
 
 24 University of California Prize Essays [Yoh. i 
 
 revolt against autocratic oppression, to the point of an 
 invincible opposition to compulsion and authority of every 
 kind. Filled with a love for the soil, for honest labor, 
 for the simple life, he scorns the luxuries of society, and 
 the pretensions of a too recondite learning and a too self- 
 eentered culture; in reaction against opposite extremists, 
 he condemns science itself. Moreover, he is the heir of 
 two great movements of the mind of his nation, toward 
 a socialistic communism, and toward a personal individual- 
 ism: for his is the idealized hope of a societ}^ of brotherly 
 love, unsubdued by the crude reality; and his is the in- 
 sistence on the free and harmonious development of per- 
 sonality, as a principle transcending all the claims of prop- 
 erty or the State. 
 Ethical And, as the reader of the autobiographical sketches of 
 
 Trend . . . 
 
 his novel Youth will note, Tolstoy's concern with social 
 problems was not the incidental interest of the litterateur. 
 Even while he was in the university, the problem of the 
 meaning and the end of life was of paramount interest 
 to him. For, though one of the nobility, he had been brought 
 up in the country. And now, in the midst of all the leisure 
 of stud}^, he disliked his scientific books, and remembered 
 with regret the concrete and practical activity of the coun- 
 try, and longed to be fulfilling a useful part in life. Even- 
 tually he left the university without finishing his course, 
 with the determination to do his duty as he saw it to his 
 serfs, for whose welfare he felt immediately responsible. 
 
 And about this time he was subject to the potent in- 
 fluence of Rousseau, whose praise of honest labor, of the 
 simple life, of the beauties of nature, finds many echoes in 
 Tolstoy's novels. (See in particular The Cossacks). From 
 this time, his love for humanity, and his consecration to 
 its cause, only increases; and whether in his great epic 
 novels, or in his philosophical and religious polemics, we 
 find this one motif dominant — a deep concern for the moral 
 welfare of mankind.
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 25 
 
 IV. CRITICISM OF TOLSTOY'S THOUGHT 
 
 (a) View of Society 
 
 Let us now take the crucial instance that first aroused Charities 
 Tolstoy to the recognition of the fact that life for hira 
 under the prevailing conditions was impossible. In large 
 measure this was dependent on the feelings that accom- 
 panied his various attempted charities. At the Lyapinski 
 House, at the house of the starving Agafya, wherever he 
 attempted to distribute money, he precipitated a small riot, 
 did no real good, and went home feeling humiliated. Even- 
 tually, in the incident of the cook's wife, he realized the 
 actual cause of his shame, — the fact that these people 
 thought it was only "fool's money," which they were jus- 
 tified in extracting from him if they could. But it seems 
 that Tolstoy habitually attributed this feeling of shame to 
 the futility of his almsgiving, thinking that both motive 
 and means of his charity were quite right, but that it was 
 fruitless only because he was out of touch with the nature of 
 the poor, because his own life was at fault. It does not seem 
 to have occurred to him that there is something intrinsically 
 vicious in almsgiving itself. A casual alms to a beggar he 
 justifies : it is only when he attempts to make his charity to 
 the beggar more deliberate, intelligent, and systematic, that 
 he feels dislike from the beggar and contempt for himself. 
 
 Yet the true fact, as we very well recognize in all our 
 modern science of charity, is that every pure gratuity is 
 demoralizing alike to him that gives and him that takes; 
 that it is an emotional slovenliness on the part of the giver, 
 and pauperizing to the receiver. It was really this, rather 
 than the economic iniquity of his life, that made Tolstoy 
 feel those flushes of shame; and whether or not he was 
 right about the iniquity, he was certainly not justified in 
 arguing that iniquity from his feelings in almsgiving. 
 
 There is, of course, as we freely recognize, a legitimate
 
 26 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 field for systematic charity, and a real problem in its ad- 
 ministration ; and, as we shall see presently, our best suc- 
 cesses in this work have shown that Tolstoy was essen- 
 tially right in his characterization of the fundamental prin- 
 ciple, in that its true solution must be in terms of per- 
 sonal influence and education. 
 City and His contrast of city and country, again, we cannot fail 
 
 Country ^^ ^^^ somcwhat onc-sidcd. The country, he says, is the 
 
 real source of all wealth, and the home of the real pro- 
 ducers. The dwellers in cities are mere consumers and 
 parasites ; their very labor is factitious ; and they exist only 
 by extorting by violence or guile the necessities of life from 
 the country. This standpoint, it is to be noted, would be 
 true only in case nothing of value were produced in the 
 city — if the country got no equivalent for the subsistence 
 it furnishes the city. And of course this is very much what 
 Tolstoy means, as appears in his attack on scientific advance 
 as related to common welfare. Tolstoy regards the produc- 
 tions of applied science as in part useless, as ministering 
 to artificial needs, and in part as pernicious, as corrupting 
 the people; and in any event as for the advantage of the 
 rich rather than the poor, and a new means of exploiting 
 and despoiling the common people. 
 
 We cannot but feel that these conclusions were made 
 from too narrow a basis. It might well seem to Tolstoy 
 that this scientific development had not benefitted the Rus- 
 sian peasants, with whose miserable condition he was 
 familiar; yet, as we shall presently see, they are kept im- 
 poverished by iron political and social forces with which 
 the modern scientific-commercial development could have 
 very little to do. On the other hand, he is on much 
 stronger ground when he claims that the very people 
 whose labors make our civilization possible are the last to 
 profit by them: for undoubtedly the factory employees as 
 a class lead lives in which the very luxuries they make play 
 the least possible part. Unquestionably there is a great 
 injustice here ; but the blame of it can in no wise be visited
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 27 
 
 upon applied science. However economic influences may 
 have operated to enslave some classes, the effect of science 
 upon mankind as a whole has indisputably been emanci- 
 pating: it has freed men from much of the bondage of 
 material labor, and has multiplied by many fold the com- 
 forts and enjoyments within their reach. 
 
 The partial character of Tolstoy's reasoning is merely 
 
 ScicncB 
 
 confirmed when he tells us explicitly what he means by true .md Art 
 science and art. He takes a somewhat scholastic definition 
 of the terms, as "human reasonable activity," and "the 
 expression of this reasonable activity"; and then, by elim- 
 inating all natural and social science, and all current art, 
 confines these terms to religion as the only actual science, 
 the science of living, and to the expression of religion in 
 music, painting, etc., as the sole valid art. To be sure, this 
 does not mean the theology and the art of the Church, which 
 Tolstoy regarded as perverse and pernicious. The whole 
 of life, all human relationships, were to Tolstoy religion; 
 and, as we see in his What Is Art? the thesis he is really 
 maintaining is a revolt against all art that is in any way 
 esoteric, that requires a specially cultivated taste to ap- 
 preciate it, and an insistence that true art should appeal 
 to universal and intuitive sympathies, and thus be a uniting 
 instead of a dividing force among humankind. 
 
 With his protest we cannot fail to sympathize. Such 
 a protest is perpetually necessary against any human ac- 
 tivity, intellectual or emotional, that would exalt itself into 
 an end in itself, and, in becoming the prerogative of the 
 few, should cease to be a social possession. We must never 
 emphasize knowledge for knowledge's sake, and art for 
 art's sake, until we forget that they are fundamentally and 
 eternally for man's sake, and that their very life depends 
 on their social mission. 
 
 But we can never acquiesce in any theory that would 
 confine thought and feeling to the merest rudiments of 
 their expression, or, indeed, restrain them anywhere short 
 of the supremest heights of the human spirit. How much
 
 28 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 wiser is the spirit of the true democracy, not to forbid cul- 
 ture to the few, but to spread it broadcast among all men! 
 As we have intimated, much of all this hostility to art 
 and to science is due to Tolstoy's revolt against a society 
 centering around an idle bureaucratic court; for it seemed 
 to him that the activities of the arts and sciences were 
 almost exclusively employed in pandering to the unnatural 
 needs of this exotic society. But to us, in a country and 
 an age where scientific activity is undoubtedly of imme- 
 diate and general practical service to everyone, and where 
 there is a nearly universal spread of artistic appreciation 
 and opportunity, there seems very little justification for 
 such restrictions. 
 Education Similarly, in the matter of education Tolstoy points 
 
 out a real evil in Russia, and a real danger everywhere. 
 Education is always in some peril of getting out of adjust- 
 ment with social needs, and becoming the excuse for selfish 
 idleness on the part of its beneficiaries. There is no doubt, 
 for example, that the invidium that is attached to the 
 term "academic," and the criticisms at present current 
 against pedantic university research work, are at least 
 partly merited. On the other hand, the American plan for 
 universal free education has wholly removed the stigma 
 of education as a perquisite of the rich, and made it 
 instead the basis of that equality of opportunity which is 
 the very foundation of true democracy. At the same time, 
 the fact that it is of, for, and by the people, is bringing 
 it into an ever more vital relation with popular needs. 
 
 In general, we may say that substantial progress of the 
 race is impossible if the main duty of the life of every 
 one is manual labor, as Tolstoy claimed, and if knowledge 
 and culture are to be incidental by-products of the spare 
 moments and energies of those so inclined. Education is 
 indispensable to lift men above the tyranny of fact, the 
 innumerable commonplaces of workaday life, and to make 
 possible the broader mind, the higher vision. And we must 
 not be so penurious as to begrudge young minds this ines-
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 29 
 
 timable advantage, even before they have repaid society for 
 it by their effective performance. It is better that a 
 thousand pass-men should lounge through a university than 
 that one true scholar should be deprived of its opportunities. 
 Nor should we forget that much can be said even for 
 the pursuit of "pure science," of knowledge for its own 
 sake, with no conceivable practical end in view, because 
 of its directly chastening and ennobling effect upon the 
 human spirit; and further, that even from the utilitarian 
 standpoint it has been these very investigations into "pure 
 science" that have borne such marvelous fruit in the won- 
 derful advances of modern civilization ; and that it may 
 well be said that there is not any human knowledge that 
 does not ultimately prove of some immediate human use. 
 
 (&) Economic Theory 
 
 Similar fallacies await us as we approach Tolstoy's Factors of 
 fundamental theory of economics. His analysis of the fac- 
 tors of production, on which he chieflly bases his rejection 
 of the current economic theory, is not founded on any con- 
 sistent principle of discrimination. Capital, land, and 
 labor, he says, do not form a valid division; in the first 
 place, because they are not comprehensive, and in the sec- 
 ond, because they are not mutually exclusive. For there 
 are other factors, such as air, water, sun, means of com- 
 munication between the laborers, and the social order that 
 protects them. These are not the subjects of private owner- 
 ship ; why then should the other factors be so ? They ought 
 all alike to be free to all who wish them, as they generally 
 are in primitive societies. 
 
 But this reasoning is undigested. Sunlight, air, etc., 
 are not the subjects of property for two reasons ; they have, 
 generally speaking, no realizable value in themselves alone; 
 and they are not susceptible of being segregated. The use 
 of them by one man does not exclude another man from do- 
 ing the same. On the other hand, land, for example, alone,
 
 30 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 apart from labor or capital, may be useful, as for grazing; 
 and has been appropriated as such by pioneers in western 
 America. Such land is definitely such a man's property, 
 as much as any land can be, the fruit of his enterprise and 
 privations. But when other would-be settlers come into the 
 region, must he then give up part of his land to them, 
 without compensation, just as he would give them without 
 question a share in the sunlight and the air of heaven? 
 
 This discrimination is confirmed by the fact that 
 when, under any circumstances, these supposedly free and 
 universal factors of production become susceptible of pri- 
 vate claim, to the exclusion of others, then they become the 
 subjects of property, and of substantive value in them- 
 selves. The sun and air are free : yet we have to enact 
 laws to prevent the monopolization of light by tall build- 
 ings, and the pollution of air by factory-fumes. "Water 
 in the form of rain is free ; but in the form of power, or 
 for irrigation, it is property, and watershed and riparian 
 rights are often of great value. To a primitive mind like 
 Tolstoy's it might seem that the Russian steppes should 
 be free to anyone who wished to use them; yet they are 
 mostly of low fertility, and need reenforcing with scientific 
 fertilizers. Here is another indispensable factor of pro- 
 duction, one of substantive value, and none at all inherent 
 in the land: what would Tolstoy do with it? 
 
 Just the extent of Tolstoy's confusion in this matter 
 of the factors of production may be judged from the fact 
 that, although he declines to recognize the threefold classi- 
 fication in theory, in practice he does recognize it, and in- 
 sists on the right of every man to each of the three. We 
 should be wholly at a loss to state his contention except 
 in terms of this classification. 
 Money Back of all this unanalysed confusion lies the entire 
 
 question of values, and the very possibility of property. 
 Tolstoy impatiently brushes aside the fundamental answers 
 of economics, that money is the representative of labor, and 
 that the reason why the laborer does not possess it lies in
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 31 
 
 the fact that, in the complexity of our modern social sys- 
 tem, he does not receive the full equivalent of his work. 
 By lengthy examples he attempts to show that the real 
 significance of money is a means of subjugation, the tool 
 of the modern commercial feudalism, and the successor of 
 the land-slavery and personal slavery of previous times. 
 And who can deny that in this he is partly right ? 
 
 But that these things inhere in the nature of money 
 itself cannot be granted, for by Tolstoy's own admission 
 his contention breate down at vital points. "Whenever 
 there is no violent demand for money taxes," he says, 
 "there never has been, and can never be, money in its true 
 signification ; but, as among the Fiji Islanders, the Phoeni- 
 cians, the Kirghis, and generally among men who do not 
 pay taxes, as among the Africans, there is either a direct 
 exchange of produce, or arbitrary standards of value, as 
 sheep, hides, sldns, and shells. "^^ But what else is this 
 than ' ' money in its true signification ? ' ' What other defini- 
 tion can we construct for money than "arbitrary standards 
 of value," used as a medium of exchange? Is this not the 
 prime function of money, to which all other functions and 
 efl^ects are incidental and by no means inevitable results? 
 Nothing could subvert this influence, except such an essen- 
 tial begging of the question as the a priori definition that 
 money is before all a medium of slavery. 
 
 Finally, Tolstoy in effect cedes the whole point, as 
 far as the world at large is concerned, w'hen he admits 
 that "without doubt, money possesses the inoffensive prop- 
 erties which science enumerates; but these properties it 
 would have only in a society in which there was no vio- 
 lence." ^^ 
 
 For this reveals the whole spring of his animus against Local 
 money. Tolstoy, it must never be forgotten, lived in an 
 undeveloped and impoverished country, under an iron gov- 
 
 37 What Is To Be Done? p. 104 (tr. Wiener, p. 122). 
 ^slbid., p. 107 (tr. Wiener, p. 126).
 
 32 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 ernment. ''70.7 per cent of the whole peasantry receive 
 from their share of the soil less than the minimum of exist- 
 ence ; 20.4 per cent are in condition to support themselves, 
 but not their animals, from their property ; and only 8.9 
 per cent of the whole peasantry bring to market agricul- 
 tural products of their land over and above what is neces- 
 sary for the satisfaction of their own needs. ' ' ^^ The grain- 
 production of the country as a whole is very low, not quite 
 1.2 tons net, less than half that of Germany.*" And taxes 
 are high: so that as the result, it has been reckoned that 
 fully nine-tenths of the Eussian peasants are compelled 
 to hire themselves out for some part of the year to pay 
 their taxes, as Tolstoy himself admits.*^ To him, then, it 
 must have seemed inevitable that money must function as 
 an instrument of extortion. He cannot separate the eco- 
 nomic question from the political. But under the Ameri- 
 can system, for example, this contention breaks down 
 utterly. 
 Commercial There stiU remains, to be sure, the fact which he cites, 
 
 that a man who has money can induce a man who has 
 not to perform the most uncongenial tasks, rather than to 
 starve. Sometimes, of course, this is an actual form of 
 servitude. And in so far as this is true, it is also true 
 that all who possess property partake of this power, and 
 to a certain extent are accomplices in the oppression. But 
 it must not be forgotten, again, that all agreements of this 
 sort are mutual; that labor is freely undertaken and freely 
 left; that opportunities are numerous, and the market for 
 labor world-wide. And so, without denying or minimizing 
 the labor problem — ^the fact of occasional despotisms of 
 capital and miseries of labor, the fact that the workman 
 never receives the full equivalence of his work — and with- 
 
 Feudalism 
 
 39 G. Schulze-Gsevernitz, Vollcswirtschaftliche Studien aus Eussland 
 (Leipzig, Duncker & Humblot, 1899), p. 318. 
 
 40 C. Ballod, ' ' Beitriige zur Frage nach der Produkti\ntat der 
 Arbeit etc.," in Schmoller's Jalirbueh fur Gesetzgehung (Leipzig, 
 Duncker & Humblot), 1905, pt. iii, p. 17. 
 
 41 What Is To Be Done? p. 105 (tr. Wiener, p. 123).
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 33 
 
 out claiming that the present economic status is just or 
 perfect, we are still not sustained in the sweeping conclu- 
 sion that this status is inevitably one of slavery, and that 
 this slavery is inseparably inherent in the nature of money. 
 In fairness to Tolstoy, it should be noted that his nega- 
 
 iAscBtic 
 
 tion of the principle of property has another justification, Doctrine 
 only touched upon in What Shall We Do Then, but de- 
 veloped at some length in The Kingdom of God Is Within 
 You. This negation is not merely an economic matter 
 to him; it is an ascetic religious doctrine, based on his 
 conception of the ethical content of the Christian religion. 
 For here, in opposition to the individualism which is the 
 starting-point of most thinkers, he enunciates the principle 
 of altruism as the first and fundamental law of life. This 
 does not mean merely the general precepts of mutual love 
 and the service of others ; to Tolstoy, the true ' ' divine con- 
 ception of life," the real teaching of the Christian faith, the 
 "Christian foundation of life," is to be found in the prin- 
 ciples of "equality, brotherhood of man, and community of 
 possession. ' ' *^ And one of these demands of the Christian 
 doctrine is "the abolition of property."*^ 
 
 Now, undoubtedly, Jesus Christ himself lived a life in 
 which self-seeking had no part, and taught His followers 
 a perfect altruism that is the consummation of ethics. Un- 
 questionably, the early Church, in the first days of single- 
 minded purpose and brotherly love, was organized as a 
 practical communism. The socialists of todaj^ who claim to 
 follow what Christ practiced may often silence those who 
 claim to preach what He preached. And if Christ's gos- 
 pel were to energize the modern world to that perfect un- 
 selfishness which was His object, all hatred, oppression, and 
 injustice would disappear, and society would voluntarily 
 approach a social cooperation which we now characterize 
 as millennial. 
 
 ■i- Tolstoy, The Kingdom of God Is Within You, translated by 
 Leo Wiener (Boston, Estes, 1905), p. 117. 
 43 Ibid., p. 116.
 
 34 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 Yet it is none the less perfectly obvious that Tolstoy is 
 distinctly misrepresenting the teaching of Christ when he 
 goes beyond this spirit of altruism, and attempts to make 
 the abolition of property per se an obligatory "command- 
 ment" of Christ, and an integral part of Christian ethics. 
 He is really taking certain particular expressions, given 
 under particular conditions, and forcing their application 
 as universal rules of conduct, for all men at all times. Now, 
 the more one examines Christ's teaching, the more he will 
 admire the consummate adaptation of His words to the cir- 
 cumstances of each case; yet nothing is clearer than that 
 they were never intended to be applied in any such legal- 
 istic way. The important thing in all His instruction is 
 not the individual application, but the spiritual principle : 
 not, for example, the iniquity of private property, but the 
 sin of selfishness ; not the necessity of poverty, but the 
 duty of generosity. This difference of the spiritual 
 and the literal appears nowhere more plainly than in Tol- 
 stoy's drastic thesis, "Property is the root of all evil," as 
 compared with that very different statement, "The love of 
 money is the root of all evil, ' ' ''■* the true Christian prin- 
 ciple, in the mouth of St. Paul. 
 Property Nor cau wc agree with that restricted definition of 
 
 property as our own bodies, which Tolstoy finally admits. 
 "Property," according to him, "means that which is given 
 to me alone, which belongs to me alone, exclusively; that 
 with which I may always do everything I like, which nobody 
 can take away from me, which remains mine to the end of 
 my life, and that I ought to use in order to increase and 
 to improve it. Such property for every man is only him- 
 self." *'^ But is this true? Of course, Tolstoy would prob- 
 ably not admit the mandatory claims of corporate Society 
 as a whole upon man's exertions, or his life, even to the 
 extent of sacrificing that life in battle or taking it away 
 by execution, for the reason that he would recognize no such 
 
 44 I Tim. vi. 10. 
 
 45 What Is To Be Done? p. 268 (tr. Wiener, p. 321).
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 35 
 
 powers, nor the very existence, of a corporate Society. 
 Yet it is nevertheless true that just as "no man liveth 
 unto himself alone," so no man's life, nor even his own 
 body, is his exclusive property. If we acknowledge no 
 other social ties, still the most fundamental and immediate 
 bonds of the family will remain, witnessing to the fact 
 that in body as well as in spirit a man belongs to others 
 as well as to himself, that he has no right to waste even 
 his "own" powers when it is to the detriment of others; 
 and that even in the question of ' ' personal liberty, ' ' Society 
 has a right to interfere, and to insist that a man shall 
 not debauch himself with alcohol, gambling, or vice, be- 
 cause Society itself is the loser thereby. And eventually 
 Tolstoy himself was brought to recognize substantially these 
 conclusions, not indeed as matters of demand and com- 
 pulsion from without, but as necessary responses from with- 
 in to the duty of true altruism. 
 
 So even Tolstoy's restricted definition will not stand The Personal 
 the test. And, as everyone will perceive, any broader and Principle 
 more tenable definition will include also some of the other 
 received ideas of property. So all thinkers have found 
 it. Locke starts with the idea of Tolstoy, that every man 
 is his own property; and deduces immediately from this 
 the notion of private property. Fichte does likewise, ar- 
 guing that if we are the masters of our own bodily powers, 
 we have the right to exclusive possession of the productions 
 of those powers. And Henry George says that just as a 
 man belongs to himself, so also the work that he has 
 made in concrete form belongs to him. It should be very 
 evident that this is the correct principle, based as it is not 
 on the old Roman right of occupation, w^hich has domin- 
 ated the common law for centuries, but on the life of the 
 new age, the sacred modern right of labor. 
 
 So when Tolstoy says, "Property is only the means of 
 utilizing other men's labor. And another's labor can by 
 no means belong to me,"''*' we are bound to answer that 
 
 i^Ibid., p. 266 (tr. Wiener, p. 319).
 
 36 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 this is perfectly correct — except when we exchange our 
 labor for his. The simple exception vitiates the whole 
 body of reasoning that Tolstoy has erected on this funda- 
 mental thesis, which seemed to him such an absolute axiom. 
 Yet it is indisputable that this is precisely what property 
 means. The right to work means nothing, unless we have 
 a right to the products of our labor: and it is identically 
 this stored-up reserve of excess effort on our part, over and 
 above the minimum necessary for our existence, which we 
 exchange for the efforts of others. And this conception 
 of property — the accumulated savings of our extra exer- 
 tions — is vital to all individual and social progress. 
 
 (c) Sociological Theory 
 
 The Organic In his sociological as in his economic reasonings Tolstoy 
 
 is an absolute individualist. The prevailing doctrine of 
 Society as an organism he rejects absolutely, on the inter- 
 esting ground that it lacks the first characteristic of an 
 organism, a unifying center of consciousness. 
 
 The true cause of his hostility to this theory is, as we 
 have seen, the manner in which it was used by the estab- 
 lished regime of the State, society, and commerce, to jus- 
 tify not merely intangible activities, but idleness itself. 
 But the philosophical objection that he here makes to it 
 will not stand. It is based on the somewhat elementary but 
 fatal defect of taking the theory literally; whereas it was 
 never intended to be used as anything but an illustrative 
 metaphor. The doctrine itself, in his conception of it, he 
 states very baldly as the idea "that a swarm of bees could 
 become an animal." Of course, an organism in this literal 
 sense, no society ever was nor could be. But does not the 
 fundamental analogy remain? Is not every society in some 
 sense a whole, with an actual relation of parts, and special- 
 ization of their functions? 
 
 At the bottom of the biological scale, we find primitive 
 animals of a single cell, mere drops of protoplasm, form-
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 37 
 
 less, independent, and alone. And in a crude way, these 
 single cells perform all the functions of life; they detect 
 food at a distance, they move about, they eat, digest, and 
 excrete, they are sensitive to light and stimuli, they repro- 
 duce their kind. But as we leave this most primitive form 
 and ascend the scale of life, as we find many cells grouped 
 together in a common unity, with a common life-purpose, 
 then there is no longer this universal functioning of each 
 cell, but a differentiation of sensory, motor, digestive, repro- 
 ductive, and higher functions : that is, cooperation, special- 
 ization, and division of labor. 
 
 In human societies Ave have a similar development. 
 Only on the most primitive scale, and in the most elementary 
 way, is each man able to satisfy all his own wants and to 
 fulfil the possibilities of his nature ; and under these cir- 
 cumstances the higher intellectual and social functions are 
 completely beyond him, as the accurate vision of the human 
 eye and the thought of the human brain are outside the 
 possibilities of the amoeba. But society brings an interrela- 
 tion and an interdependence of function. As the auditory 
 nerves are freed from the need of seeking their own food 
 and performing their own locomotion, and are able to 
 bring a precise adaptation of means to a single end, so the 
 physician who is not obliged to hoe his own potatoes and 
 make his own coat is free to devote himself to a more 
 specialized social service. Yet Tolstoy's proposed resolution 
 of the social order is comparable only to dissolving the won- 
 derful organization and high possibilities of the human body 
 into a swarm of scavenging amoebae. 
 
 However, it is claimed by some that Tolstoy's vigorous Tolstoy's 
 and rigorous scheme does not really mean the total disso- Solution 
 lution of society, as it would seem to do if taken literally. 
 His recommendation is not a fully rounded programme for 
 all men, one may say, but a gospel of renunciation for the 
 rich. Let the idle rich go back to the soil, learn the primary 
 lesson of labor, and lead the simple life, and we shall not 
 be troubled with social problems.
 
 38 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 A Peasant's 
 Ideal 
 
 Canon of 
 Altruism 
 
 Possibly this may be correct ; though from the com- 
 pleteness with which the theory is elaborated, the passion- 
 ate energy with which it is urged, the solemn religious justi- 
 fication cited for it, the single-minded consistency with 
 which it is brought forth in all Tolstoy's works, and the 
 complete manner in which it accords with the history of his 
 development and the life that he chose and followed, one 
 can hardly believe that it is anything but what it purports 
 to be, his full and final answer to the problem of society. 
 Back of the formal argument is always the deification of 
 manual labor — the peasant's implicit belief that any other 
 activity is factitious and indefensible, or at the most jus- 
 Be that as it may, it is distinctly a peasant's ideal, 
 tifiable in direct proportion as it approaches physical exer- 
 tion. Intellectual activities are strongly criticized and dis- 
 counted, and allowed for the most part only insofar as 
 they minister directly to the peasant's welfare. Here, 
 again, we understand readily enough the genesis of Tolstoy's 
 idea — that to him, country-bred, simple, energetic, con- 
 scientious, the society surrounding an autocratic court 
 seemed extremely idle, effete, selfish, and pernicious, and 
 in contrast, the country with its freedom, its honest toil, 
 and its joy of life, was very attractive. But of course his 
 personal feeling is without any universal application for us. 
 Nor can we accept his canons of the usefulness of a 
 given activity to society. These, it will be remembered, are 
 two: the external indication, the acknowledgement of the 
 utility by those for whom it is produced; and the internal 
 indication, the desire to be of use to others, which is the 
 motive of the activity. As a matter of fact, this latter is 
 not true, even theoretically. As a spring of action, the 
 principle of Egoism, self-interest, or the law of self-preser- 
 vation, is invariably first in both time and importance. 
 Altruism itself is only the recognition of the ecjual rights 
 of another Ego ; and Jesus Christ himself, in enunciating 
 His summary of the moral law, those magnificent principles 
 which constitute the finality of human ethics, could put the
 
 1^12] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 39 
 
 matter on no higher practical ground than when lie said, 
 "Love thy neighbor as thyself.'" Not more, — that is im- 
 possible. And so, in our purview of human actions, we 
 must not expect to find a sheer altruism as the primary 
 spring of conduct. It is not essential, even ethically; and 
 it is most misleading when we attempt to erect it, as Tol- 
 stoy does here, into an economic criterion. 
 
 For the individual cannot be subtracted from the social 
 whole, and his interests are at bottom indisseverable from 
 those of his fellow-men. The whole modern commercial 
 system is constructed on a basis of absolute self-interest; 
 yet so closely are the threads of mutual consideration inter- 
 woven in it, that out of it have grown the generous sys- 
 tem of credits, the policy of quality, the inviolable faith 
 with the customer necessitated by world-wide advertising, 
 the liberal care of employees, with provision for their rest, 
 diversion, and education, and voluntary old-age and acci- 
 dent pensions in many companies. Each of these develop- 
 ments, with many others like them, was dictated by a heart- 
 less commercialism seeking the best returns for its money, — 
 but seeing that its own best interests and those of the com- 
 munity were one. Yet who can say that the failure of 
 Tolstoy's visionary canon of altruistic motive in their case 
 deprives them of their right to be considered as good in 
 themselves'' 
 
 Nor does he fare much better with the other principle, cj,j,on of 
 demanding that the usefulness be recognized by its re- Recognition 
 cipients. In a broad way, nothing could be more obvious; 
 and in a state like Russia, where a despotic government is 
 imposed upon an almost unanimously unwilling people, it 
 might seem to need no demonstration. But it will not do 
 to argue sweepingly, as Tolstoy does, that government, 
 trade, education, and the like, are never good, because there 
 are always some objectors to them. We realize, and very 
 properly, that the majority have a right to their way in the 
 matter. And for countries like America and most of 
 Europe, where all these social institutions are willingly
 
 40 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 accepted and supported by the great majority, Tolstoy's 
 reasoning fails altogether of cogency. 
 Anarchy The fact is, that in this utterance there breathes the 
 
 spirit of anarchy, the unquenchable antagonism to any kind 
 of authority. So he argues that the building of a ' road 
 across a swamp is of advantage only to those who con- 
 sider it such, and who voluntarily decide to take part in 
 its construction. It should be obvious enough that such a 
 public work is of advantage to all the people, whether they 
 happened to think so at the moment or not ; and that here 
 as elsewhere the majority has a right to coerce the unwilling 
 majority to assist in what, when finished, will benefit all 
 alike. But in Tolstoy, the very idea of "must" rouses a 
 sort of barbaric rage not distinguishable to him from the 
 sense of outraged justice, and it seems to him the greatest 
 of evils. This continually appears in the primitive ferocity 
 of indignation with which he speaks of the taxes, the 
 economic laws, and the established constitution of the social 
 order: violence is his one word, used again and again, 
 for all their compulsion. "Muss ist eine liarte Nuss," says 
 the German proverb. This invincible opposition is the 
 natural product of a tyrannous autocracy; but under a 
 democratic regime, where it is Society itself that speaks 
 in command, we cannot feel that this standpoint has much 
 weight. 
 
 (d) Conclusions 
 
 What then remains of Tolstoy 's system ? Every car- 
 dinal step of his argument is vitiated, as far as any univer- 
 sal cogency and applicability is concerned, by the one-sided- 
 ness of his reaction, or the particularity of the social con- 
 ditions from which he drew his inferences. His emphasis 
 on the struggle with nature, his praise of manual labor, 
 his attitude toward city problems, his criticism of science, 
 art, and education, his analysis of the factors of produc- 
 tion, and his concept of property, are such as are possible 
 only to one who was all his life, by temperament and by
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 41 
 
 choice a peasant. His rejection of the doctrine of the organic 
 constitution of society, and of the division of labor, was an 
 almost purely negative revolt from the spectacle of a des- 
 potic government, supporting an idle and parasitic circle 
 of society, and nourishing itself by ruinous taxation upon 
 an unwilling and impoverished people. His philosophy of 
 money is applicable only to the same social status. His 
 idea of property is an ascetic extreme. And his proposed 
 plan of social reconstruction, if literally interpreted, can 
 be characterized only as the suicide of society. 
 
 Yet even though a failure as a theory, it is magnificent 
 failure. The inarticulate protest of the toiler from thous- 
 ands of years has found the voice of genius, and in lan- 
 guage of almost prophetic fire and grandeur arraigns 
 the idle rich. For their insincere and futile charities; for 
 their selfish exclusiveness toward the poor; for their im- 
 moral idleness ; for the debauching efi'ect of their luxuries 
 and their useless lives upon the lives of the toilers; for 
 their destruction of the labors of others ; for their deprav- 
 ing the brightest minds with an impractical art and sci- 
 ence; for their deafness to the promptings of conscience: 
 for their despotic use of the power of money to enforce on 
 the needy the most distasteful and degrading services, on 
 the pain of starvation — for all these crimes Tolstoy arraigns 
 them; and finally denounces upon them the peril of the 
 indignation of labor for their parasitic lives, and the im- 
 minent explosion of the submerged forces in a universal 
 social revolution, unless they set their houses in order, and 
 prepare for the wrath to come. 
 
 And all these things are just as vital at this moment 
 as when they were first written. We are awake to his 
 trumpet-peal of conscience : and the questions which he 
 puts before us so forcefully are the fundamental problems 
 of society, those which before all others our generation has 
 set itself to solve. Such is his message to our present age.
 
 42 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 V. THE PROBLEMS OF TODAY 
 
 The Age of Tliis is the age of conscience. In part at least we have 
 
 Conscience passc out of the period of mystical faith; and the prevail- 
 ing religion, as Tolstoy said, is "not a mystical teaching, 
 but a new concept of life. ' ' *^ We are no longer quite 
 content to profess a system of intellectual metaphysics, and 
 live lives that contradict the first principles of true re- 
 ligion. Deed is our creed, and action our oblation. And 
 whatever the Church has lost in prestige as an exclusive 
 institution, it has gained tenfold in the acceptance of its 
 gospel in the hearts of all men. 
 
 Within the last decade, the calm of the nation has been 
 broken as by thunder-peal and earthquake-shock, in the 
 astonishing revelations of social corruption — the cut- 
 throat business methods of grasping monopolies ; anarchistic 
 violence of organized labor; city after city shown to be 
 rotten to the core with unblushing graft; the government 
 of a great nation dominated by political machines; the 
 cruel barbarisms of war in the twentieth century of en- 
 lightenment; last and by no means the least, the deep dis- 
 grace of white slavery. And perhaps there have been those 
 who have wondered at times if the words of Daniel Webster 
 were after all to be unhappily realized — if this country, 
 which had begun its trial of the republican form of gov- 
 ernment under the fairest auspices in history, were never- 
 theless to prove by its failure that a republic was forever 
 impossible. But that was not the meaning of events. If 
 the world for a time has looked evil, it is because those in 
 whose hands lies the making of the world have grown bet- 
 ter, and are even now taking counsel with their own hearts 
 and with each other, and gathering their strength to lift 
 its destinies to their own higher level. The last decade has 
 seen an awakening of the popular conscience without pre- 
 
 4" Subtitle of The Kingdom of God Is Within You.
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 43 
 
 cedeut in the history of mankind ; and our age is now facing 
 some of the immemorial problems of society, evils as old as 
 civilization, with a fundamental earnestness such as the 
 world has never seen. 
 
 In the forefront of these questions of the age is the Property 
 ancient problem of property. Property in some form 
 there always has been and always must be, all the socialistic 
 extremists to the contrary notwithstanding. As we have 
 seen, all thinkers have found this principle integral to the 
 concept of personality. It is indispensable to the consti- 
 tution of the home, and thus lies at the foundation of any 
 true society. It is the reward of initiative, and as such it 
 is the prime source of all advance. 
 
 But not all kinds of property are ethically or socially 
 right. Property in the persons of others, bodily slavery, 
 has vanished into the past : but any other form of property 
 that produces the effects of personal slavery must go too. 
 Tolstoy is absolutely correct in saying that certain forms 
 of property are really tantamount to the enslaving of those 
 who are without them. Private tenure of natural re- 
 sources ; monopolization of necessities of any kind ; individ- 
 ual ownership of public utilities; excessive accumulations 
 of wealth ; control of the machinery of production and of 
 distribution : all these involve despotic power of some men 
 over others ; and their adjustment to the needs of modern 
 society is one of our gravest concerns. 
 
 Even the legal system is feeling the change. The old rroperty Rights 
 Eoman right of occupation — ultimatel.y, as Tolstoy points 
 out, a principle of force — is giving waj^ to the newer funda- 
 mental right of labor. The principle of property, which 
 is enshrined in our Constitution, and which has always 
 been held as the corner-stone of our jurisprudence, is at 
 last, in the latest judicial decisions, in response to the over- 
 whelming popular sentiment throughout the country, yield- 
 ing place to the more sacred principle of personality. 
 
 Property in the means of production, as the Russian
 
 44 University of Calif oriiia Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 thinker Philippovieh indicated,*^ means control not only- 
 over the material factors involved, but the personal as well. 
 A great industrial organization exercises a practically mili- 
 tary domain over its employees; and, as we have at times 
 seen in connection with the coal barons, the great railroads, 
 or the Steel Trust, this control may be most despotic. Natur- 
 ally enough, force has evoked force, and we have had com- 
 binations of labor *'in restraint of trade" just as actual, 
 oftentimes just as powerful, as the monopolistic aggrega- 
 tions of capital. Violence has called forth violence; and 
 whichever side won in the trade wars that followed, it has 
 always been the public, the consumers, that have suffered 
 the loss, caught between the upper and the nether mill- 
 stones. The last general railway strike, that brought a 
 nation within a step of famine, and the coal strike, which, 
 even as this is written, seems to have the country by the 
 throat, have almost persuaded conservative England of 
 what her daughter. New Zealand, the most progressive na- 
 tion in the world, saw years ago, that two wrongs can 
 never make a right; that society cannot permit either the 
 starving of a servant, or the strangling of an employer; 
 and that in all these partisan conflicts, true justice is to 
 be expected only from those who must inevitably suffer in 
 the end from any injustice, the people as a whole. 
 The Problem There is a larger problem here, toward whose solu- 
 
 of Commerce i{q^ -^g are Still Struggling, but whose end is not yet in 
 sight. There is no question that the very existence of our 
 modern society is bound up in a very complex system of 
 production and distribution. The daily bread of the world 
 depends upon it; and its abrogation by any such short- 
 cut as Tolstoy proposes is impossible, and will become in- 
 creasingly impossible with the growth of the population 
 of the world. Nothing could be clearer than that some- 
 thing is amiss with it; the world-wide outcry against high 
 prices is witness to this fact. But just what has happened 
 to the necessaries of life between the Jerusalem of the pro- 
 
 48 Cf. Walter, Tolstoi, p. 91.
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 45 
 
 ducer and the Jericho of the consumer, congressional in- 
 vestigations have not yet clearly informed us — though some- 
 times we have our suspicions. The trusts, cold storage, 
 valorization, transportation, the commission merchant, the 
 wholesaler, the retailer in the corner grocery store, all have 
 their share of imputed blame. But however we may appor- 
 tion it, however we may think that the machinery of dis- 
 tribution should be divided, combined, or controlled, the 
 essential economic iniquity can be stated in one word : Ex- 
 propriation. For the laborer never receives the full wage 
 of his labor, the producer never receives the full worth of 
 his product. Each man who has the power exacts a toll 
 on what passes through his hands, beyond the value of his 
 service to society. Such has always been the case; pos- 
 sibly it always will be. But when this power is exercised 
 by financial potentates before whom Croesus was poor, 
 Solomon simple, and Charlemagne, a petty prince, the use 
 and abuse of it may become most ominous to society. 
 
 The era of competition is gone forever. Even if it were 
 possible to restore it, it would not be advisable. Economies 
 of unified production and distribution, and commercial sta- 
 bility of prices and of demand, are advantages too import- 
 ant to be waived. Though the cost of living may be 
 high under the trusts, yet in our present economic develop- 
 ment it would certainly be higher still without them. But 
 in all the consumer must be protected; and the most dis- 
 cerning of the kings of finance themselves have seen that 
 the only solution is a sane government regulation, and 
 the fixing of maximum prices. We already do this to some 
 extent with the railroads. And chimerical or impossible 
 as this may have been in the days of free competition, it 
 is becoming indispensable in the days of monopolies. 
 
 Some attempt at the solution of the problem from within 
 has been made in England in a sj^stem of cooperative stores, 
 now of no mean magnitude, and including wholesaling and 
 manufacturing institutions in its organization. The cooper- 
 ative principle has also been applied elsewhere to the rela-
 
 46 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 tions of capital and labor, always with excellent results 
 within the scope of its activity. Labor-unions in general, 
 however, have been so bent on sharply drawing the class- 
 distinctions of employer and employee, that for the most 
 part they have not engaged in cooperative enterprises of 
 production ; and there have even been demagogic leaders of 
 their unions who have covertly attacked the companies 
 that have adopted this plan, because their existence under- 
 mines their chief argument of class-hatred. But if they 
 can be brought to see that here is a legitimate goal of their 
 efforts, we may yet enter upon a new era of labor, based 
 not on antagonism, but on cooperation. 
 Capital However, the great aggregations of capital are there, 
 
 and men are even now beginning to speak of the "Money 
 Trust." What to do with them, how to curb their unre- 
 stricted sway, eventually perhaps how to restore possession 
 of their wealth to the people, are the problems of the time. 
 Hitherto they have been very largely outside the control 
 of the State, for they were intangible, and as "personal 
 property," were sworn off the assessment-lists. Bvit with 
 the coming governmental control of corporations and over- 
 sight of great financial matters, they will be made to feel 
 that they are under, not above, the law. A national in- 
 come tax must come in time ; and even the present plans 
 for it reveal the fact that it will be based not only on the 
 need for revenue, but on a deliberate policy of the reduc- 
 tion of swollen fortunes. And the recent beginnings of 
 inheritance-taxes are even more clearly so directed. 
 The New For in the last analysis Ave are coming to a new con- 
 
 Economics ception of economic relations, as we have had to come to 
 a new conception of political relations. Time was when 
 the fundamental thesis of political theory was, "All au- 
 thority is of God." That was the era of the divine right 
 of rulers, of autocracy and oppression, of political slavery. 
 But slowly though surely all the world has been brought 
 toward the realization that all authority is of the people; 
 that all government is delegated, and that its fundamental
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 47 
 
 principal lies in the consent of the governed. And peace- 
 ably or by force, by evolution more than by revolution, 
 the political fabric of society has been changed. The 
 people have resumed their own. 
 
 The same is true of economics. All wealth is of the 
 people. There is no divine right whereby one man may 
 have an inexhaustible superfluity, while others are in want. 
 And though we may now be passing through stages of com- 
 mercial feudalism and of commercial autocracy, the time 
 must inevitably come when the people will resume their 
 own. As Tolstoy said in his Besurredion, the land which 
 is needful to them, "the land which has been taken from 
 them [must] be returned to them." For "the ground be- 
 longs to those who cultivate it, not to those who do not. . 
 . . The fruits of their labor belong to the laborers. . . . 
 Capital and the means of production are the true property 
 of the associations of producers."*^ 
 
 Such a consummation may be rather remote. But it socialism 
 is certainly true that the once-dreaded name of Socialism 
 arouses no such thrill of horror as it once did in America. 
 Parties regarded as the acme of conservatism have adopted 
 as planks of their platforms ideas once thought the sign- 
 manual of rabid socialists. The government management 
 of the mails is essentially socialistic ; and it is only a ques- 
 tion of time when the express, the telephone, and the tele- 
 graph services will also be operated by the government in 
 connection wath the post-office, as has long been the case 
 in Europe. The national policy of conservation is social- 
 istic, for it is based on the deliberate theory that the re- 
 sources of the country belong to the whole people, and are 
 not to be exploited for the profit of individuals. Gradually, 
 with a somewhat uncertain step, we are approaching the 
 goal of municipal ownership of all public utilities, light, 
 water, even transportation and communication. And far 
 ahead, yet surely to be realized, looms the nationalization of 
 the railways, with, perhaps, the control of other universal 
 
 49 Tr. Wiener (Boston, Estes, 1905), I, 320, 321.
 
 48 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 Social 
 Efficiency 
 
 Commercial 
 Advances 
 
 necessities in its train. And all economic indications alike 
 point forward to the time when the true democratic ideal 
 will be realized, and the people will be, in fact as well as 
 in theory, supreme. 
 
 With the economic there has come a social awakening. 
 We are not unresponsive to Tolstoy's gospel of work. We 
 are no longer wholly willing to let the complexities of the 
 social order blind us to the duty of giving society some 
 return for our existence. The gospel of efficiency is abroad 
 in the land. Purely impractical science, purely esoteric art, 
 purely theoretical religion, find few defenders. We are re- 
 quiring that nothing be taught our children under the guise 
 of disciplining and developing their minds which does not 
 have an actual value for life in itself. We are testing 
 even the citadels of conservatism, the universities, for their 
 net results. We are demanding that our doctor's theses 
 be on subjects of some possible human use and interest. 
 We are realizing, as notably in Wisconsin, that the first 
 duty of a state university is to serve the state. All our 
 education, our culture, is to be a means of social service: 
 we will not have it said of us, as Tolstoy said of the educated 
 of his day, that "we are still conversing among ourselves, 
 and teaching each other, and amusing ourselves, and have 
 quite forgotten the people." We are really turning the 
 resources of our civilization to their truest human use — 
 to make the people of the world better and happier. 
 
 Our very commercialism, pursuing its own profit ex- 
 clusively, in a way alien to all Tolstoy's canons of useful- 
 ness, has made life much more worth the living. It has 
 increased the luxuries of life, and also the people's abilities 
 to possess them. It has popularized art, by putting it 
 within every one's reach. It has spread information 
 through magazines, and propagated culture through books. 
 And while it has been thus multiplying our enjoyments, 
 and raising the whole standard of living to a higher level, 
 it has been the main ally of science, in its attempt to make
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 49 
 
 the life of the people longer and happier, and to stamp out 
 the swarming trivial causes of sudden death. 
 
 We are insisting on improving the conditions of the conditions 
 laborer. That phase of the division of labor which Ruskin o*" Labor 
 said made a man a mere wheel of a machine ; against which 
 Adam Smith complained that it absorbed a man in a detail 
 of mechanical operation, and left him no chance to utilize 
 his own mind and initiative; which Noschin said"'" was a 
 destroyer of individualit3% and of the needed solidarity 
 between the social classes ; that tyranny of machinery 
 which Uspenski^^ attacked as killing the spirit, taking a 
 man from his family, condemning him to monotonous 
 labor, and reducing him to a mere part; this concern with 
 the "eighteenth part of a sewing-needle," — is gradually 
 giving way before a more enlightened attitude. For, apart 
 from the efforts of the trade-unions and of philanthropists 
 to improve the condition of labor, the great employers are 
 doing the same. Intelligence, they see, is more valuable 
 to them in the long run than mere unintelligent dexterity. 
 And so, by free trade-schools, by alternations of routine, 
 by bonuses for expedited work, by rewards for inventions, 
 everything is being done that can be done to lift the con- 
 dition of the laborer to the higher level of intelligence. 
 
 Now, at last, we are facing the trouble of those city 
 festering sores of civilization whose misery turned Tol- ^'^ery 
 stoy's mind to the consideration of the whole state of 
 society: the evil of city life. And here indeed we recog- 
 nize the wisdom of Tolstoy's conclusion — that real good 
 cannot be done by the mere giving of money, or by any 
 of the superficial activities of conventional philanthropy. 
 The real cause of the wretchedness of the lives of the "sub- 
 merged" individuals in cities lies, after all, in themselves. 
 They are unhappy because they have the wrong view of 
 life; and as long as they hold this life-conception they will 
 
 eoCf. Walter, Tolstoi, p. 51 ff. 
 61 /bid., p. 55.
 
 50 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 be unhappy anywhere. But to this most difficult of prob- 
 lems, how to help the helpless to help themselves, we are 
 addressing ourselves. 
 
 Attempts have been made, as notably by the Salvation 
 Army, to relieve congestion and its consequent misery by 
 plans of colonization in the country. These experiments 
 have not been particularly successful; for it was found 
 that if a man was vicious and shiftless in the city, he 
 remained vicious and shiftless in the country. Most of 
 these people were corrupted by just the evil Tolstoy attri- 
 butes to them — the contagious life-conception of the rich, 
 to get something for nothing, to live without working. And 
 when a man is once accustomed to the excitement of the 
 crowds and diversions of a city, lie is discontented with the 
 lonesomeness and monotony of life in the country. It is 
 just as Tolstoy indicated — we have to provide not only 
 for the necessities of life for these men, but for the whole 
 of life; not only for the hours of their leisure, but for the 
 hours of their relaxation and amusement. 
 
 To do these people any real good, we must, as Tolstoy 
 insisted, change their view of life; in short, convert them. 
 This is why social settlements have been the cause of so 
 much actual benefit. Without attempting to bring about 
 an}^ radical change in externals, they have brought into 
 contact with the degraded lives of the people the force 
 of a concrete and self-sacrificing example. They have 
 taught them how to live, by the present picture of a life. 
 And, in conjunction with the higher forces of ethical re- 
 ligion, they are slowly winning the day. 
 
 There are, of course, also the usual resources, the im- 
 provement of material surroundings, better tenements, 
 parks, clean streets, and domestic sanitation. Even the 
 shiftless benefit by these. And there are the great influences 
 of universal education of the young, whereby even the 
 lowest classes of the largest cities are being trained in real 
 citizenship. Perhaps it is through this last means most of 
 all that the regeneration of the slums is to be accomplished.
 
 1912] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 51 
 
 Last and lowest of all, the greatest pity and the greatest white 
 shame of the cities, and the blackest spot upon the civiliza- ^^^"^^^^ 
 tion of the twentieth Christian century, is that disgrace 
 called par eminence the Social Evil. And although hither- 
 to men have always said, as Tolstoy does, that these unfor- 
 tunates "have always existed, do exist, and are so neces- 
 sary to society, that there are officials deputed by the 
 government to see that they conform to regulations"^- — yet 
 now this ancient outrage is at last tearing the hearts and 
 arousing the consciences of all who can lay any claim to any 
 measure of humanity. And who can doubt that the day is 
 at hand, when, as Jane Addams says,^^ this immemorial 
 disgrace of white slavery, as old and as inveterately rooted 
 in the being of society as manhood slavery has been, must 
 also, like that slavery, finally be wiped from the face of 
 the earth? 
 
 In all these varied ways, our age is preeminently striv- individualism 
 ing toward the emancipation of the individual. It is not ^^^ 
 
 . Collectivism 
 
 a new struggle ; indeed it may be said that there never has 
 been any other, but that in the world-old conflict of democ- 
 racy with tyranny, of the plebeian with the patrician, of 
 the serf with the overlord, of the oppressed with the op- 
 pressor, the whole course of history records the evolution 
 of human freedom. And in our day this enfranchisement 
 of the spirit has reached its latest and highest development, 
 in the universal protest of the foundation-classes of society 
 against ancient wrong and oppression, against all special 
 privilege political, social, or economic. At the same time, 
 this development is not tak'ng with us the form of a one- 
 sided individualism, for in it all the social principle is 
 being appreciated as never before. We have found that 
 the greatest emphasis on the value of personality and the 
 highest possible development of the individual is insepar- 
 
 52 What Is To Be Done? p. 39 (tr. Wiener, p. 46). 
 !i3 See A Netu Conscience and an Ancient Evil (New York, Mac- 
 millan; 1912).
 
 52 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 able from a true socialism, a universal brotherhood 
 grounded in the living unity of humankind. 
 Our Debt These traits of the new era — social principles whose 
 
 to Tolstoy obligation the generality of mankind have been so late in 
 
 realizing, problems which are even now being slowly and 
 tentatively worked out in the laboratory of American pol- 
 itics — Tolstoy saw with the vision of a prophet, and pro- 
 claimed with the fervor of an apostle. No one has felt 
 more deeply, or denounced with more passionate earnest- 
 ness, the artificial life and factitious activities of the "lei- 
 sure classes" and the "higher circles" of society; or the 
 futility of abstruse science and recondite art, divisive 
 forces, where they should be human and humanizing, 
 uniting mankind in the bonds of a living sympathy. No 
 one has set forth more movingly the attraction and the 
 duty of the simple life, the call of honorable labor, with all 
 its sanity, strength, and virtue, its fully-rounded develop- 
 ment of all the powers of a man. For his indeed is the 
 gospel of labor, the duty of giving the world a fair return 
 of service for the subsistence it gives to us; and his also 
 is the complementary truth of the right of labor to the full 
 reward of its exertions. True justice speaks in his ar- 
 raignment of dead accumulations of capital, enslaving the 
 laborers in order to sustain its possessors in vicious idleness. 
 His own self-effacement, his pity for the misery of the 
 toilers, his clear discernment of the ineificacy of material 
 means of alleviating this misery, his emphasis on the neces- 
 sity for vital personal contact, witness to his profound feel- 
 ing for the unity of humanity, and reflect the perfect altru- 
 ism of one who could distrust even the Golden Rule, as 
 containing the taint of self.^* 
 
 To all these trumpet-calls of conscience we are well 
 awake. But especially, in an age when material prosperity 
 is at a higher level than ever before in the history of the 
 
 54 Tolstoy, Conversations with Teneromo: see E. Rolland, Tolstoy, 
 tr. Miall (New York, Button, 1911), p. 274.
 
 19i2] Jones: Tolstoy and Social Problems 53 
 
 race, we need to follow his warning, not to trust to mere 
 external means, not to deify machinery, but to seek first 
 the inner human factors of the human problem. 
 
 Hence, however much we may recognize the material 
 inequalities of the present economic status, however justly 
 and earnestly we may strive to right them directly, we still 
 cannot trust those propagandists who would claim that 
 merely by a redistribution of wealth the millennium is to 
 be attained. Such can never be the case, so long as human 
 nature remains what it is ; and all true amelioration of 
 mankind must be sought, not from without, but from 
 within, by lifting humanity itself to the higher level of 
 the spirit. It is a false and futile Socialism that makes 
 its challenging demand, "What is yours, is mine." The 
 betterment of the race is to be sought far rather in the 
 brotherly charity of a truly Christian Socialism, which 
 generously grants, "What is mine, is yours." This prin- 
 ciple of self-forgetfulness, of true love of one's fellow-men, 
 was the very heart of Tolstoy's thought and life, and 
 remains the abiding element in his teaching. 
 
 The world moves : and though the solution of its ancient 
 problems may still be far distant; though no man can now 
 clearly foresee the end; and though it is certainly not to 
 be attained with all the simplicity that Tolstoy thought 
 possible : yet we share with him his deep desire for that 
 consummation, and we move toward it in a spirit one with 
 his: "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law 
 of Christ. '"^5 
 
 55 Gal. vi. 2,
 
 THE VALUE OF TOLSTOY'S WHAT IS TO BE 
 
 DONE? TO THE PRESENT REBUILDING 
 
 OF THE SOCIAL STRUCTURE 
 
 SHELDON WAREEN CHENEY, 
 
 A.B., 1908
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Part I. An Interpretation of What Is To Be Done? 
 
 I. Introduction. Tolstoy's Life, Character and Influence 57 
 
 XL Tolstoy's Picture of a Diseased Society 67 
 
 III. Tolstoy's Diagnosis 74 
 
 IV. Tolstoy's Suggested Eemedy 82 
 
 Part II. A Critical Estimate of the Value of the Book 
 to the Present Rebuilding of the Social 
 Structure 
 
 V. The Value of the Picture and Diagnosis 91 
 
 VI. The Value of the Eemedy 96 
 
 VII. Conclusion 118 
 
 [561
 
 THE VALUE OF TOLSTOY'S WHAT IS TO 
 BE DONEf TO THE PRESENT RE- 
 BUILDING OF THE SOCIAL 
 STRUCTURE 
 
 BEING AN INTERPRETATION OF THE BOOK AND A 
 
 CRITICAL ESTIMATE OF ITS INFLUENCE 
 
 ON THE SOCIAL MOVEMENT 
 
 PART I. AN INTERPRETATION OF WHAT IS TO 
 BE DONEf 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. TOLSTOY'S LIFE, CHARACTER, 
 AND INFLUENCE 
 
 What Is To Be Donef is Leo Tolstoy's contribution to ^^^ ^^^ ^ ^^ 
 humanity's effort for social justice. Incidentally the book what is To 
 treats of every subject vital to human welfare; but funda- ^^ ^°^^- 
 mentally it treats of that one greatest blot on civilization, 
 poverty. It is an exposition of misery, a study of the causes 
 of that misery, and an attempt to propound a cure. Tol- 
 stoy, in his many books, has written of every phase of 
 human experience and achievement: religion, ethics, phil- 
 
 [57]
 
 58 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. i 
 
 osophy, art, science, education, the sex problem, the struggle 
 for life, war, government — everything, indeed, which touches 
 man's spiritual or material being. Out of his manifold 
 physical experience, and out of the mind which had 
 struggled with each of these problems of life, Tolstoy 
 evolved the book What Is To Be Donef, attempting to re- 
 plan the world's social structure in the light of the con- 
 victions he had reached in those struggles. 
 
 The prophet — from the great Jesus, who was crucified 
 because he stirred up the people (in the modern phrase, 
 "hurt business"), to the lesser leaders of our own restive 
 time — is always a storm center. The prophet Tolstoy was 
 the greatest figure of his age, judged not by the few who, 
 carried away by his titanic force, follow blindly, nor by 
 the many who ignore or misunderstand him, but by the 
 attitude of the great understanding, thinking world, which 
 made his isolated home a Mecca for social and religious 
 reformers. To his death he was the most eulogized, yet 
 most abused, the most accvised, yet most honored figure in 
 the world. 
 
 No balanced, thinking man has accepted Tolstoy's creed 
 in toto, nor would Tolstoy wish it so, but every man who 
 has taken pains to pierce the cloud of confusion which 
 Tolstoy and his accusers and believers have raised about 
 his works, has seen the true soul of the man back of it 
 all, and has proclaimed him the prophet. 
 
 This universal acceptance, even where some of the doc- 
 trines are repudiated, is due to the fact that Tolstoy's beliefs, 
 when stripped of all their radicalisms and overstatements, 
 stand out as the truest and most wholesome of all systems 
 of religious and ethical conduct — the clearest exposition of 
 man's duty to man — and the most sincere effort to bring 
 about the reign of justice and equality on earth that the 
 modern Avorld has known. 
 Purpose of This essay is an attempt to detach this core of truth 
 
 from the surrounding mass of detail and extraneous mat- 
 ter, as the whole is bound up in the ill-arranged book. 
 
 the Essay
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 59 
 
 What Is To Be Done?, and to trace the influence of the 
 doctrines on the social movement : in short, to interpret 
 Tolstoy's message and to estimate its value to the current 
 social reconstruction. In condensing Tolstoy's picture of 
 the disease of society and his remedy, his own advice to 
 readers will be followed, that "one must choose out the 
 parts that are quite clear, dividing them from what is 
 obscure or confused. And from what is clear we must 
 form our idea of the drift and spirit of the whole work. "^ 
 And the estimate and criticism of the picture and remedy 
 will be formed with that other injunction of Tolstoy in 
 mind, that the reader shall not accept any teaching as 
 infallible, but shall first refer it to his own reason and con- 
 science. Thus, and in the light of the written experience of 
 the other great prophets, the true may be separated from 
 the false and the great teachings stripped of their several 
 fallacies, leaving in the end only a faithful rendering of 
 that part of Tolstoy's creed which is so certainly working 
 toward the freedom of mankind. 
 
 Tolstoy 's immense influence arises not only from the doc- Sources of 
 
 . . . Tolstoy's 
 
 trines he preached, but from his volcanic character, and his influence 
 ardent, forceful way of living, and most especially from 
 his sincere and heroic attempt to practice what he preached. 
 The continual conflict waged in his soul and in his outer 
 life, and the direct growth of his books out of that struggle, 
 preclude the possibility of understanding his views or of 
 estimating their value without a knowledge of his spiritual 
 and physical life. A condensed biography of Tolstoy will 
 show the relation of WJiat Is To Be Done? to his other 
 works and to his own spiritual and physical growth. 
 
 Count Leo Tolstoy came of aristocratic family, both his Tolstoy's 
 father and his mother bearing titles. The family was com- 
 fortably rich, and throughout his life Tolstoy was well pro- 
 vided for, if not abundantly wealthy. Every circumstance 
 
 1 Tolstov, Essays and Letters, translated by Aylmer Maude (New 
 York, Funk and Wagnalls, 1904), p. 191.
 
 60 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 of his early life would tend to lead him away from those 
 convictions which grew on him with the passing years and 
 which made him a world-prophet in later life. Only a 
 tendency to religious seclusion among certain of his rela- 
 tives gives any light on the probable trend of his gro-wth. 
 He was born in 1828 at Yasnaya Polyana, the country estate 
 which was his home during practically his entire lifetime. 
 His mother died when he was less than two years old, and 
 his father only seven years later. His childhood and boy- 
 hood, however, were passed with relatives, in an atmosphere 
 of family affection. 
 
 As a boy Tolstoy was sensitive, imaginative and intro- 
 spective. Although generally happy, he was already 
 troubled by the problems of life. At one period he flogged 
 himself because he had discovered that one accustomed to 
 bear suffering cannot be unhappy ; again he sought a magic 
 cure which was to purge humanity of all its ills — a quest 
 which he followed in various forms throughout life. 
 
 As a youth he went to the university at Kazan, where 
 his brilliancy in some subjects was offset by his failure in 
 others. Like most of the students of his rank he periodic- 
 ally lived incontinently. At this time, though shy and 
 sensitive about his appearance, he went into society a great 
 deal, and rigorously observed all its conventions. At nine- 
 teen he returned to Yasnaya Polyana, to live with his be- 
 loved "Aunt Tatiana," resolved to perfect himself, to 
 study, to manage his estate, and to improve the condition 
 of his serfs. For some years his time alternated between 
 study and industry and the pursuit of physical pleasure. 
 Hunting, gambling, a fondness for gipsy-girl singers, and 
 dissipation of all kinds, followed each time by the extremest 
 penitence, interrupted his peaceful country life. At this 
 period one sees most plainly his fierce conflict between his 
 love of pagan pleasures and his desire for Christian moral 
 truth.- Already he was a restless, strenuous, self-torment- 
 
 2 Cf. J. A. T. Lloyd, Two Eussian Reformers: Ivan Turgenev; Leo 
 Tolstoy (New York, Lane, 1911) ; and D. Merejkowski, Tolstoi as Man 
 and Artist (London & New York, Putnam, 1902).
 
 1912] Cheneij: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 61 
 
 in* man, oppressed by the sense of duty and of the obliga- 
 tion to bear a cross, in his penitent moods intolerant of his 
 own faults and those of others, a man who was to live 
 for thirty more years with the struggle in his soul before 
 finding the faith on which to build a sane, balanced system 
 of life. 
 
 In 1851, when he was twenty-three, Tolstoy joined the 
 army. In his campaigns in the Caucasus and in the Crimea 
 during the following years he saw at first hand those crimes 
 which made him an enemy of war and military power 
 throughout his life. During this service he began to write, 
 his vivid stories and war sketches placing him immediately 
 among the most popular authors of the day. For seven 
 years after his return from the seat of war, he spent his 
 time at St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Yasnaya Polyana, 
 writing much, going abroad twice, planning and conduct- 
 ing a school on new principles, helping to free the serfs, 
 and going into society. Again the same struggle is appar- 
 ent in his life, and the same alternating periods of dissi- 
 pated pleasure and penitent uprightness. 
 
 In 1862, at the age of thirty-four, Tolstoy married 
 Sophie Behrs, an accomplished girl of eighteen. The event 
 is notable as the first great turning-point of his life. 
 As exhibiting his sincerity and conscientiousness, it is in- 
 teresting to note that before the marriage he gave to his 
 fiancee the diary which he had kept for years, in which he 
 had recorded all his excesses, as w^ell as his periods of faith, 
 of doubt, and of penitence. This self-revealment — so 
 similar to that which later startled the world^at first 
 shocked, then brought forgiveness and respect from the 
 future wife. For the follow^ing fifteen years Tolstoy led a 
 quiet country life, happy in family affairs, in the produc- 
 tion of his two great novels. War and Peace and Anna 
 Karenin, and in the management of his estate. Toward the 
 end of the period his mind was increasingly troubled by 
 the question of the true aim of life, and by the economic 
 injustice that surrounded him. His own autobiographical
 
 62 U7iiversity of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 summary of his career up to its fiftieth year is of deep sig- 
 nificance, though it must be read with an understanding 
 of Tolstoy's habit of overstating: "That splendid — especial- 
 ly in comparison with what comes after — that innocent, 
 joyful, poetic period of childhood up to fourteen; then 
 the second, those dreadful twenty years, the period of 
 coarse dissoluteness, of service of ambition and vanity, and, 
 above all, of sensuousness ; then the third period of eighteen 
 years, from my marriage until my spiritual birth, a period 
 which, from the worldly point of view one might call moral ; 
 I mean that during those eighteen years I lived a regular 
 honest family life, without addicting myself to any vices 
 condemned by public opinion, but a period all the inter- 
 ests of which were limited to egotistical family cares, to 
 concern for the increase of wealth, the attainment of literary 
 success, and the enjoyment of every kind of pleasure."^ 
 
 In 1874 there were already signs of the coming of that 
 ''spiritual birth" which was inevitable if life was to be 
 tolerable to him. Already his mind was torn and distracted. 
 He began to interview those religious pilgrims who were 
 continually passing, and he talked to the priests and the 
 peasants. He sought patiently in every field of human 
 knowledge, in science, in religion, in philosophy, for 
 answers to his questions: "Why should I live, why wish 
 for anything, or do anything? Is there any meaning in 
 life that the inevitable death awaiting one does not 
 destroy'?"* As his perplexity and his mental suffering in- 
 creased, his care for the old pleasures, fame, success, riches, 
 decreased, and gradually the foundations of his old life 
 crumbled from under him. As early as 1875 Mihaylovsky 
 published a series of articles called TJie Bight and Left 
 Hand of Count Tolstoy, which revealed "the clash of con- 
 trary ideals and tendencies in the writer's soul, "^ and 
 
 3 P. Birukoff, Leo Tolstoy: His Life and Work (New York, 
 Scribner, 1906), vol. i, p. xxv. 
 
 * Cf. Tolstoy, My Confession, translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, 
 Estes, 1904), p. 26. 
 
 5 A. Maude, The Life of Tolstoy (New York, Dodd, Mead and Co., 
 1910), i, 395.
 
 1912] Cheiiey: Tolstoij's"What Is ToBe Donef" 63 
 
 which predicted that an ordinary man in such a position 
 would end by suicide or drunkenness. 
 
 As his life became more chaotic and the inevitable spir- 
 itual crisis neared, Tolstoy did indeed think of suicide, and 
 in moments of clarity he put away from reach ropes and 
 guns which might tempt him during his despairing moods. 
 The first ray of light which broke into his distraction came 
 in the discovery that the peasants lived normal, rational 
 lives, bearing troubles patiently, and accepting death calmly, 
 even joyfully. He came to the belief that the wrong lay 
 entirely in the way of life of his own class, and for two 
 years he faithfully went to church and observed all its 
 ceremonies, hoping to build a new life on the faith which 
 brought content to the peasants. Then suddenly he broke 
 away from the church for all time, convinced that the 
 peasant belief was founded not on true faith but on 
 credulity: that the church was concerned more with its 
 superstitious forms than with the teachings of Christ. 
 
 Feverishly he set to work to apprehend the true teach- Tolstoy's 
 ing of Christ; and therein came his spiritual crisis. Sud- spiritual 
 denly he realized the emptiness and injustice of his former 
 life and was able to formulate an outlook on his future life, 
 a plan based on a reasoning faith. In My Confession he 
 vividly pictures the spiritual struggle of the years 1874- 
 1879, separates the false faith from that new and true faith 
 which brings a sense of the relation between the finite and 
 the infinite, renounces the old faith, and repudiates the 
 church as having substituted " Churchianity for Christi- 
 anity." There is as yet no formulation of a new creed, 
 but a promise that one shall follow. 
 
 The crisis, however, is past. Tolstoy has been freed The New 
 from the old life and the old religion. Standing on the ^'"^"^ 
 solid foundation of a direct belief in the relation of man 
 to God, he is eager to take up the great problems of human 
 thought and achievement and to formulate his plans of 
 reform in the light of that faith. 
 
 This birth into a new life brought with it many changes.
 
 64 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 Tolstoy the consummate artist became Tolstoy the prophet. 
 His books from this time forward all have the same power- 
 ful art, but there is a new message added. He wrote not 
 as before for the amusement of the people and for his own 
 honor, but for the good of mankind; his art became sub- 
 ordinate to his message. 
 
 Naturally his first endeavor was in the field of religion 
 and ethics. My Confession had been practically finished in 
 1879 or 1880. Immediately he set to work on his Critique 
 of Dogmatic Theology, which completed the work of ex- 
 posing the superstitions and dogmas of church ceremony, 
 and pointing out how far worship of church forms had 
 superseded the study of Christ's doctrines. He searched 
 the Gospels for Christ's true teaching, and succeeded in 
 formulating the moral and spiritual code which he be- 
 lieved would establish the kingdom of God on earth. 
 This code is to be found in his books: The Four Gospels 
 Harmonized and Translated (1880-82) ; The Gospel in Brief 
 (1883) ; and My Religion (1883-84). 
 Conception of While hc was still engaged in systematizing and setting 
 
 Tr;ia« Is To forth the new religion, he came face to face with the prob- 
 lem of poverty, and that incident occurred which led to 
 the writing of What Is To Be Donef, a book which attempts 
 to solve the economic problem in the light of the new code. 
 
 In September, 1881, the family moved to Moscow for 
 the winter and the change from the quiet country life made 
 Tolstoy wretched. In November he wrote: "I lack tran- 
 quillity. I am oppressed by the triumph of indifference and 
 conventionality, and the customariness of evil and decep- 
 tion. ' "^ The shallow life of the rich and the terrible misery 
 of the poor horrified him. The occasion of the census to be 
 taken in January, 1882, by which he would be able to 
 investigate city poverty, led him to formulate a direct 
 charity plan, by which the needy were to be enrolled so 
 that a charity l)ureau could keep in touch with them after 
 the census work was finished. Tolstov threw himself into 
 
 /(( Maude, The Life of Tolstoy, ii, 97.
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Donef" 65 
 
 tlie work impetuously. When he emerged he had investi- 
 gated the poor, and had found poverty and \\Tetchedness 
 in more terrible aspects than he had dreamed of. The 
 inadequacy and failure of his direct charity plan depressed 
 him less than the existence of the things he had seen side 
 by side with the superfluity of wealth and leisure of his 
 own class. 
 
 He did not again attack the problem immediately. His 
 religious books were not yet completed, and his mind was 
 not yet clear as to the cure for economic wrong. In 
 1883 he started What Is To Be Donef and for more than 
 three years he struggled with it. During that time he 
 became increasingly dissatisfied with his way of life, and 
 more than once his relations with his very family were 
 strained. His wants became simpler, he gave up indul- 
 gences of all kinds, and he became more and more a saint, 
 and spiritually stood more and more alone. 
 
 We may picture him at the time of writing What Is To 
 Be Donef as outwardly a great, strong man, giving an im- 
 pression of massiveness, his face strong-featured and sur- 
 rounded b}' long shaggy hair and beard, his little bright 
 eyes gazing out with infinite penetration ; inwardly forceful, 
 ardent and restless, his desire militantly to spread his be- 
 liefs struggling with his desire to be mild and gentle with 
 all, caring immensely for the matter of the moment, going 
 with a sublime childish directness to the heart of the ques- 
 tion at hand, and above all, sincere. 
 
 It is sufficient to sum up the remaining twenty-five years 
 of Tolstoy's life, in so far as they affect the book and doc- 
 trines under discussion, by mentioning his increasing effort 
 to live up to those ideals of conduct set forth in What Is 
 To Be Donef ; the continual stream of stories, dramas, let- 
 ters, and essays, including his writings on non-resistance, 
 which did so much to cloud his fame, and the publication of 
 The Slavery of Our Time, a weaker sequel to What Is To 
 Be Donef; his efforts for the betterment of peasant life, 
 as shown especially in his devoted relief work in the famine
 
 66 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 districts ; and lastly his continual persecution by the censor 
 and the church, culminating in his excommunication. 
 
 The influence of What Is To Be Donef cannot be dis- 
 sociated from the influence of Tolstoy's other books and of 
 his life and character. But it is the one work that specific- 
 ally treats of the economic problem — the reconstruction of 
 society so that all men shall have justice — and it sums up 
 the arguments of all the preceding books. Thus it offers 
 the student an opportunity to judge of Tolstoy's entire 
 influence on the social movement, and to estimate his worth 
 as an inspiration and guide to economic reformers and 
 humanitarians. 
 
 Of the following three chapters the first will set forth 
 Tolstoy's picture of misery as he found it in Moscow in 
 the census year, and the contrasting luxurious life; the 
 second, his deductions and diagnosis of the trouble; the 
 third, his suggested remedy. In these chapters 4t ds 
 necessary to condense and to interpret, and above all to 
 reduce to system that line of argument which winds through 
 so many chapters of the original work. The last three chap- 
 ters will be discussions of the picture, diagnosis, and 
 remedy, considering their influence on social reform up 
 to this time, and their value as a basis for future con- 
 structive work.
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoij's" What Is To Be Done?" 67 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 TOLSTOY'S PICTURE OF A DISEASED SOCIETY 
 
 The story of Tolstoy's effort to relieve the misery that 
 so distressed him when he came to Moscow in 1881, and 
 the aecompan^ung picture of poverty and vice side by side 
 Avith luxury and wealth, form thirteen of the forty chap- 
 ters of What Is To Be Donef Taking only the material of 
 his actual experience, Tolstoy brought to bear all of his 
 wonderful descriptive power. 
 
 Tolstoy went on a cold, windy afternoon in December 
 to the Liapin free night lodging-house, where he took his 
 place among the men and women who were standing or 
 sitting in the snow waiting to be let in : 
 
 Next to me stood a peasant with a swollen face and red beard, Description of 
 in a ragged jacket, and worn-out galoshes on his naked feet, though city Poverty 
 there were eight degrees of frost. For the third or fourth time our 
 eyes met; and I felt so drawn to him that I was no longer ashamed 
 to address him (to have refrained from doing so would have been 
 the only real shame), and asked him where he came from. 
 
 He answered eagerly, while a crowd began to collect round us, 
 that he had come from Smolensk in search of work, in order to be 
 able to buy bread and pay his taxes. 
 
 "There is no work to be had nowadays," he said; "the soldiers 
 have got hold of it all. So here am I knocking about ; and God 
 is my witness, I have not had anything to eat for two days. ' ' 
 
 He said this shyly, with an attempt at a smile. A seller of 
 warm drinks, an old soldier, was standing near. I called him, and 
 made him pour out a glass for him. The peasant took the warm 
 vessel in his hands, and, before drinking, warmed them against the 
 glass, trying not to lose any of the precious heat; and whilst doing 
 this he related to me his story. . . . 
 
 Then came a little man, with a swollen face and teary eyes, in a 
 coarse brown jacket, and with knees protruding through his torn 
 trousers, and knocking against each other with cold. He shivered
 
 68 University of California Prize Essaijs [Vol. l 
 
 so that he could not hold the glass, and spilled the contents over 
 his clothes; the others took to abusing him, but he only grinned 
 miserably and shivered. 
 
 After him came an ugly, deformed man in rags, and with bare 
 feet. Then an individual of the officer type; another belonging to 
 the church class; then a strange looking being without a nose — and 
 all of them cold, suppliant, and humble — crowded round me, and 
 stretched out their hands for the glass; but the drink was exhausted. 
 ... I entered the lodging-house with the crowd. The house was 
 enormous, and consisted of four parts. In the upper stories were 
 the men 's rooms ; on the ground floor the women 's. I went first 
 into the women 's dormitory — a large room, filled with beds resem- 
 bling the berths in a third-class railway-carriage. They were arranged 
 in two tiers, one above the other. 
 
 Strange-looking women in ragged dresses, without jackets, old 
 and young, kept coming in and occupying places, some below, others 
 climbing above. Some of the elder ones crossed themselves, pro- 
 nouncing the name of the founder of the refuge. Some laughed 
 and swore. 7 
 
 When Tolstoy, sickened by his new knowledge of the 
 poverty of Moscow, and by his own luxurious surroundings, 
 applied for a position among the census-takers, he was 
 immediately assigned to one of the poorest districts : 
 
 Center of .... I soon found the Rzhanoff Houses — approached by a street 
 
 Poverty which terminated on the left-hand side of a gloomy building without 
 
 any apparent entrance. From the aspect of this house, I guessed 
 it was the one I was in search of. . . . Everything was gray, dirty, 
 and foul-smelling — buildings, lodgings, courts and people. Most of 
 those I met here were in tattered clothes, half-naked. Some were 
 passing along, others were running from one door to another. Two 
 were bargaining about some rags. . . . After a little hesitation, I 
 went in. The moment I entered the court, I was conscious of a most 
 revolting odor. The court was dreadfully dirty. I turned round the 
 corner, and at the same instant heard the steps of people running 
 along the boards of the gallery and thence down the stairs. 
 
 First a gaunt-looking woman, with tucked-up sleeves, faded prink 
 dress, and shoes on her stockingless feet, rushed out; after her, 
 a rough-haired man in a red shirt and extremely wide trousers, like 
 
 7 Tolstoy, What /.s To Be Bone?, translated by I. F. Hapgood 
 (New York, Scribner, 1904), pp. 10-13; cf. What Shall We Do Then?, 
 translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, Estes, 1904), pp. 11-14.
 
 1912] Chpney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Donef" 69 
 
 ;i petticoat, and with galoshes on his feet. The man caught her under 
 the stairs, "You shan't escape me," he said, laughing. 
 
 * ' Just listen to the squint-eyed devil ! ' ' began the woman, who Extent of the 
 was evidently not averse to his attentions; but, having caught sight Problem 
 of me, she exclaimed angrily, "Who are you looking for?" As I 
 did not want anyone in particular, I felt somewhat confused, and 
 went away. ... I now realized for the first time, that all these 
 poor unfortunates, whom I had been wishing to help, had, besides 
 the time they spent suffering from cold and hunger, in waiting to 
 get a lodging, several hours daily to get through, and they must 
 somehow fill the rest of the twenty-four of every day — a whole life, 
 of which I had never thought before. . . . And now for the first 
 time (however strange the confession may sound), I was fully aware 
 that the task which I was undertaking could not simply consist in feed- 
 ing a thousand people (just as one might feed a thousand head of sheep, 
 and drive them into shelter), but must develop some more essential 
 help. And when I considered that each one of these individuals was 
 just another man as myself, possessing also a past history, with 
 the same passions, temptations, and errors, the same thoughts, the 
 same questions to be answered, then suddenly the work before me 
 appeared stupenaous, and I felt my own utter helplessness; — but it 
 had been begun, and I was resolved to continue it.s 
 
 These unfortunate people ranged themselves in my mind under Kinds of 
 three heads: first, those who had lost former advantageous positions. Unfortunates 
 and who were waiting toi return to them (such men belong to the 
 lowest as well as to the highest classes of society) ; secondly, women 
 of the town, who are very numerous in these houses; and thirdly, 
 children. . . . 
 
 Many such people [of the first class] are scattered about in all 
 the tenements of the Rzhanoff Houses. One lodging-house was 
 tenanted exclusively by them, women and men. As we approached 
 them, Ivan Fedotitch said: 
 
 ' ' Now here 's where the nobility live. ' ' 
 
 The lodging was full; almost all the lodgers — about forty per- 
 sons — were at home. In the whole house there were uo faces so 
 ruined and degraded as these — the old, shriveled ; the young, pale 
 and haggard. 
 
 I talked with several of them. Almost always the same story 
 was told, only in different degrees of development. One and all had 
 been once rich, or had still a rich father or brother or uncle; or 
 either his father or the unfortunate himself had held a high ofl5ce. 
 Then came some misfortune caused by envious enemies or his own 
 
 8 Ibid., pp. 21-4 (tr. Wiener, pp. 24-7).
 
 70 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 imprudent kindness, or some out-of-the-way occurrence; and having 
 lost everything, he was obliged to descend to these strange and 
 hateful surroundings, among lice and rags, in company with drunk- 
 ards and loose characters, feeding upon bread and liver, and sub- 
 sisting by beggary.9 
 
 The second class of unfortunates, whom I hoped afterward to 
 be able to help, were women of the town. Such women were very 
 numerous in the Ezhanoff Houses; and they were of every kind, from 
 young girls still bearing some likeness to women, to old and fearful- 
 looking creatures without a vestige of humanity. lo 
 
 Tolstoy's sympathy and his feeling of helplessness are 
 exhibited in his description of an interview with one of 
 these prostitutes and her landlord, and especially in this 
 sequel : 
 
 .... I was disgusted by the disdainful tone of this young land- 
 lord, in a lodging filled with females whom he termed prostitutes; 
 and I pitied the woman, and expressed both feelings. 
 
 No sooner had I said this, than I heard from the small compart- 
 ment where the giggling had been, the noise of creaking bed- 
 boards; and over the partition, which did not reach to the ceiling, 
 appeared the disheveled curly head of a female with small swollen 
 eyes and a shining red face; a second and then a third head fol- 
 lowed. They were evidently standing on their beds; and all three 
 were stretching their necks and holding their breath, and looking 
 silently at me with strained attention. 
 
 A painful silence followed. 
 
 The student, who had been smiling before this happened, now 
 became grave; the landlord became confused, and cast down his eyes; 
 and the women continued to look at me in expectation. 
 
 I felt more disconcerted than all the rest. I had certainly not 
 expected that a casual word would produce such an effect. It was 
 like the field of battle covered with dead bones seen by the prophet 
 Ezekiel, on which, trembling from contact with the spirit, the dead 
 bones began to move. I had casually uttered a word of love and 
 pity, which produced upon all such an effect that it seemed as if they 
 had been only waiting for it, to cease to be corpses, and to become 
 alive again. 
 
 They continued to look at me, as if wondering what would come 
 next, as if waiting for me to say those words and do those acts 
 
 9 What Is To Be Done/ pp. 31-3 (tr. Wiener, pp. 37-8). 
 ^0 Ibid., p. 35 (tr. Wiener, p. 41).
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Donef" 71 
 
 by which these dry bones would begin to come together — be covered 
 with flesh and receive life. 
 
 But I felt, alas! that I had no such words or deeds to give, or 
 to continue as I had begun. In the depth of my soul I felt that 
 I had told a lie, that I myself was like them, that I had nothing 
 more to say; and I began to write down on the domiciliary card the 
 names and the occupations of all the lodgers there, "n 
 
 Tolstoy's last visit to the Rzhanoff Houses was made 
 at night: 
 
 We entered lodgings well known to me. The place was familiar, 
 some of the persons also; but the majority were new to me, and ^-,j. po^g^^^y 
 the spectacle was also a new and dreadful one — still more dreadful 
 than that which I had seen at Liapin's house. All the lodgings were 
 filled, all the pallets occupied, and not only by one, but often by 
 two persons. The sight was dreadful, because of the closeness with 
 which these people were huddled together, and because of the indis- 
 criminate commingling of men and women. Such of the latter as 
 were not dead drunk were sleeping with men. Many women with 
 children slept with strange men on narrow beds. 
 
 The spectacle was dreadful, owing to the misery, dirt, raggedness, 
 and terror of these people; and chiefly so, because there were so 
 many of them. One lodging, then another, then a third, a tenth, 
 a twentieth, and so on, without end. And everywhere the same fear- 
 ful stench, the same suffocating exhalation, the same confusion of 
 sexes, men and women, drunk, or in a state of insensibility; the 
 same terror, submissiveness, and guilt stamped on all the faces, so that 
 I felt deeply ashamed and grieved, as I had before at Liapin's. At 
 last I understood that what I was about to do was disgusting, foolish, 
 and therefore impossible; so I left off writing down their names 
 and questioning them, knowing now that nothing would come of it.12 
 
 Tolstoy describes the life of factory workers in this way : 
 
 .... At the first whistle at five o'clock in the morning, men and Ljfg ^f 
 women, who have slept side by side in a damp cellar, get up in the Factory 
 dark, and hurry away into the noisy building, and take their part Workers 
 in a work of which they see neither cessation nor utility for them- 
 selves, and work often so in the heat, in suffocating exhalations, with 
 very rare intervals of rest, for one, two, or three, or even twelve and 
 more hours. They fall asleep, and get up again, and again do this 
 
 1^ Ibid., p. 49 (tr. Wiener, pp. 56-7). 
 '^~ Ibid., p. 49 (tr. Wiener, pp. 56-7).
 
 72 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 work, meaningless for themselves, to which they are compelled ex- 
 clusively by want. And so it goes on from one week to another, 
 interrupted only by holidays. 
 
 And now I saw these working-people freed for one of these 
 holidays. They go out into the street ; everywhere there are inns, 
 public houses, and gay women. And they, in a drunken state, pull 
 each other by the arms, and carry along with them girls like the 
 one whom I saw conducted to the police station; they hire hackney- 
 coaches, and ride and walk from one inn to another, and abuse each 
 other, and totter about, and say they know not what. 
 
 Formerly, when I saw the factory people knocking about in this 
 "way, I used to turn aside with disgust, and almost reproached them ; 
 but since I hear these daily whistles, and know what they mean, I 
 am only astonished that all these men do not come into the condition 
 of utter beggars, with whom Moscow is filled; and the women into 
 the position of the girl whom I had met near my house. 
 
 Thus I walked on, looking at these men, observing how they went 
 about the streets till eleven o'clock. Then their movements became 
 quieter; there remained here and there a few tipsy people, and I 
 met some men and women who were being conducted to the police 
 station. And now, from every side carriages appeared, all going 
 in one direction. On the coach-box sat a coachman, sometimes in 
 a sheepskin coat ; and a footman — a dandy with a cockade. Well-fed 
 trotters, covered with cloth, ran at the rate of fifteen mUes an hour; 
 in the carriages sat ladies wrapped in shawls, and taking great care 
 not to spoil their flowers and their toilets. All, beginning with the 
 harness of the horses, carriages, gutta-percha wheels, the cloth of 
 the coachman's coat, down to the stockings, shoes, flowers, velvet, 
 gloves, scents — all these articles have been made by those men, some 
 of whom fell asleep on their own pallets in their mean rooms, some 
 in night-houses with prostitutes, and others in the police station. 
 
 The ball-goers drive past these men, in and with things made 
 by them; and it does not even enter into their minds that there 
 could possibly be any connection between the ball they are going to 
 and these tipsy people, to whom their coachmen shout out so angrily. 
 With quite easy minds, and assurance that they are doing nothing 
 wrong, they enjoy themselves at the ball. 
 
 Enjoy themselves! 
 
 From eleven o'clock in the evening till six in the morning, in the 
 very depth of the night, while with empty stomachs men are lying 
 in the night-lodgings, or dying as the washerwoman had done! i3 
 
 13 What Is To Be Done? pp. 150-2 (tr. Wiener, pp. 182-3).
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Bone?" 73 
 
 The remaining descriptive portions of the book treat of country 
 a woman and girl who "scarcely earn their living by trans- P°^^'ty 
 forming themselves into machines, and pass all their lives 
 in breathing tobacco, thus ruining their lives,"" in order 
 that one of Tolstoy's acquaintances may smoke cigarettes; 
 and of country poverty, in \s'hich peasants continually work 
 beyond their strength, not only strong men and women, but 
 children, and old women, and women with child. And 
 through it all runs that contrasting accompaniment, the 
 picture of the "incessant orgies" of the rich. 
 
 This is only a glimpse of the society which Tolstoy 
 pictures so fully and so realistically in his book. But it 
 serves to show the outer indications, the symptoms of dis- 
 ease. It is time to turn, then, to the diagnosis, and after 
 that to the remedy. 
 
 11 Ibid., p. 155 (tr. Wiener, p. 186).
 
 74 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 t 
 
 TOLSTOY'S DIAGNOSIS 
 
 After his first visits to the lodgings of the poor, Tolstoy 
 jumped at a cure for the poverty and vice he had encoun- 
 tered, without any adequate knowledge of the problem ht 
 was attacking, and without any attempt at diagnosis of 
 the disease. He accepted the external direct charity plan 
 as a cure-all for whatever might ail humanity. The story 
 of his utter failure is bound up with the story of the census 
 investigation. When he had failed, and when he had found 
 the disease so much more terrible than he had anticipated, 
 he did attempt to diagnose the trouble ; and for three years 
 he struggled with the question, before he came to any con- 
 clusion which seemed to point the way to a cure. 
 First During the census investigation, however, he had learned 
 
 Conclusions £q^j. ^ruths, which cleared his mind of certain fallacies that 
 prevent men from seeing the problem rightly. 
 
 First, he had concluded that he could not justly live in 
 luxury while such conditions existed among other human 
 beings : 
 
 Similar convictions were now again forced upon me when I beheld 
 the misery, cold, hunger, and humiliation of thousands of my fellow- 
 men. I realized not only with my brain, but in every pulse of my 
 soul, that, whilst there were thousands of such sufferers in 
 Moscow, I, with tens of thousands of others, filled myself daily 
 to repletion with luxurious dainties of every description, took the 
 tenderest care of my horses, and clothed my very floors with velvet 
 carpets! Whatever the wise and learned of the world might say 
 about it, however unalterable the course of life might seem to be, 
 the same evil was continually being enacted, and I, by my own per- 
 sonal habits of luxury, was a promoter of that evil. is 
 
 15 What Is To Be Done? pp. 14, 15 (tr. Wiener, p. 15).
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 75 
 
 Second, he had recognized that direct charity, no mat- Direct charity 
 ter how well organized, cannot create more than tiny islands 
 of relief in the great sea of human misery. However much 
 money is given in help, the sea remains just as wide and deep 
 — the masses are still poor. He had found that when he gave 
 money openly it degraded those who begged it, and all that 
 he distributed went to the tavern in the end. The only help, 
 he concluded, is in giving time and care to the needy, in 
 the way that these poverty-stricken people help each other. 
 
 Third, he had found that the great need of these unfor- False Concep- 
 tunates is not something external, but a change in their own *'°°^ °^ ^'^® 
 conception of life ; and fourth, he had found that the people 
 of his own circle could not teach the true conception of life, 
 because their own conception is exactly that of the unfor- 
 tunates. The wish of both classes is to work less and to be 
 worked for more. For, Tolstoy points out, the unfor- 
 tunates have come to their present condition because they 
 were taught to believe that the best existence is that with- 
 out work; and furthermore, such of them as are gaining 
 a dishonorable living without labor, as the prostitutes, con- 
 sider honest labor with the hands below them. But, he adds, 
 when he looked among the ladies of his own rank for some 
 who might aid the poor prostitutes, he concluded that these 
 ladies ' ' were not only themselves avoiding family duties and 
 leading idle and sensual lives, but were consciously educat- 
 ing their daughters for this very same mode of existence. 
 One mother leads her daughter to the inn, and another to 
 court and to balls. But the views of the world held by 
 both mothers are the same, viz., that a woman must gratify 
 the lusts of men, and for that she must be fed, dressed, and 
 taken care of. How, then, are our ladies to reform this 
 woman and her daughter?"^® 
 
 Tolstoy, then, had come to these four conclusions during 
 his investigation: that he could not live luxuriously while 
 such things existed ; that direct charity is a failure ; that the 
 unfortunates must change their conception of life ; and that 
 
 le/biV/., p. 41 (tr. Wiener, p. 47).
 
 76 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 the rich cannot help to change that false conception because 
 their own is the same. He had not made a diagnosis of the 
 disease, but he had cleared his mind of certain false stand- 
 ards accepted by the world- 
 He struggled with the problem for three years (he was 
 
 True Purpose °'^^ .... 
 
 of Life at the same time formulating his religious system), and at 
 
 the end of that period he evolved that basic principle which 
 is at the foundation of his entire moral and social code 
 that "human life .... has no other object than to eluci- 
 date moral truths .... [and that] this [elucidation] is not 
 only the chief, but ought to be the sole, business of all men. ' '^^ 
 Each individual, Tolstoy has concluded, in order to fulfill the 
 purpose of life, must conduct himself according to those 
 principles or laws which universal experience has shown to 
 be necessary to the welfare of humanity. Each man must 
 live his life only for good and right, for the well-being of 
 all men. 
 
 Some commentators see in this conclusion Tolstoy's sec- 
 ond spiritual rebirth. Certainly that spiritual crisis which 
 came with the writing of My Confession, bringing faith in 
 the relation of man to the infinite and belief that the true 
 teaching was in the unobscured gospels, had not brought 
 a perpetual peace to Tolstoy's soul. In the three troubled 
 years after the LIoscow census, when he could not bring 
 his new faith to shed any light on the terrible problem of 
 poverty, doubt again had assailed him, and his mind had 
 reverted to the chaos of the years before the Confession. 
 But now again he felt that he had found a sound basis 
 from which to work, in this principle of the elucidation 
 of moral truths. In its light he began once more a diagnosis 
 of the disease of society. Feeling now that life had a 
 meaning and justice for everyone if rightly lived, he in- 
 quired why the lives about him were so abnormal. AYhere 
 had humanity gone astray, and under what conditions had 
 men so easily forgotten the basic truth — in short, what was 
 the root of misery? 
 
 IT fVhat Is To Be Done? pp. 56-7 (tr. Wiener, pp. 66-7).
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 77 
 
 The quest of the root of misery led to an investigation 
 of the nature and uses of monej^ and to a sarcastic and 
 merciless arraignment of political economy. Tolstoy's 
 analysis and argument fill many chapters, but here the 
 entire thought may be summed up in a single paragraph. 
 
 Science says that money is the natural result of the why there 
 conditions of social life, and is indispensable, first, for con- '^ Poverty 
 venience of exchange ; second, as a measure of value ; third, 
 for saving; and fourth, for payments. Money, Tolstoy adds, 
 only represents labor: all the necessaries of life, food, 
 clothing, and shelter, are products of labor. But two of 
 the necessary agents of production, land and capital (the 
 savings of labor and instruments of labor), have passed 
 out of the laborer's hands and are monopolized elsewhere. 
 Through this division of the agents of production the masses 
 of men have been enslaved. Science claims that the whole 
 cause of this slavery lies in the fact that the laborer under 
 this division is not getting the full value of his labor. But, 
 Tolstoy replies, in an ideal state there would be no division 
 of agents at all ; and furthermore the very nature of money 
 is to enslave. Under the present economic system, govern- 
 ments, backing their demands for payments with violence, 
 have made money no longer a medium of exchange but a 
 ransom from violence. In order to save himself from that 
 threatened violence on which the power of all governments 
 rests, the laborer must enslave himself to others ; and this 
 is true whether the demanded payment is for government 
 taxes or for food and shelter. Money would be an inoffen- 
 sive medium of exchange only if violence were not used. 
 Under the present dual burden of government taxation 
 based on violence and land monopolization, the laborer has 
 been enslaved, and the ruling power of the world has be- 
 come vested in a money tyranny. For ''a man who has 
 money may buy up and monopolize all the corn, and kill 
 others with starvation, completely oppressing them, as it 
 has frequently happened before our own eyes on a very
 
 78 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. i 
 
 large scale. "^^ Under this tyranny it is clear that money 
 has ceased to be a medium of exchange, and similarly it 
 has ceased to be a measure of value because every standard 
 of value is dictated by the tyrant. Under this money 
 tyranny a slavery exists that is more terrible than the 
 old-time personal bondage. 
 
 Money, then, in its present way of use, is the root of 
 misery. It has created wrong ethical standards and false 
 ideals. ''The very ideal of the men of our Christian, cul- 
 tured world is to get the largest amount of property — that 
 is, wealth — which secures all comforts and idleness of life 
 by freeing its possessors from the struggle for existence, 
 and enabling them, as much as possible, to profit by the 
 labor of those brothers of theirs who perish in the 
 struggle. ' '^^ With the growth of this false ideal of wealth 
 and idleness, there has grown up a false division of labor, 
 in which the followers of the arts and sciences have become 
 mere parasites. 
 Why Misery is Tolstoy fiuds the reason for the concentration of misery 
 
 Concentrated jj^ ^.j^g cities in the fact that the rich naturally gather in 
 the cities, because there luxury is more refined and they 
 may the better gratify their vanity. Although the coun- 
 try is the source of all wealth, the rich, by the evil power 
 of money, draw to the cities most of the products of the 
 country, taking away from the country producer the prop- 
 erty which is the result of his labor. A great many country 
 people, seeing the concentration of wealth in the cities, go 
 there hoping to get back something of what they have lost, 
 and drawn also by the temptations of town life and by the 
 "ceaseless orgies" of the rich. "These country people 
 assist in gratifying all the fancies of the wealthy: they 
 serve them in public baths, in taverns, as coachmen, and 
 as prostitutes. They manufacture carriages, make toys and 
 dresses, and little by little learn from their wealthy neigh- 
 bors how to live like them, not by real labor but by all 
 
 18 What Is To Be Done? pp. 106-7 (tr. Wiener, p. 125). 
 lo/b/c?., pp. 165-6 (tr, Wiener, p. 199).
 
 Who is 
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoxj's "What Is To Be Done?" 79 
 
 sorts of tricks, squeezing out from others the money they 
 have collected, and so become depraved, and are ruined."^" 
 A few of these people amass wealth of their own and in turn 
 become parasites; but the majority go to make up that 
 population of the slums which Tolstoy desired to help. 
 
 Understanding now the nature of money, and why "Mos- 
 cow neither sows nor reaps, yet lives in wealth," although 
 only in the country a man can truly make a living, that 
 is, produce that by which men live, Tolstoy for the first 
 time understood his own position and that of his own class 
 and of the poor. Having found the causes of the disease 
 he was now able for the first time rightly to place the blame. 
 
 The rich, Tolstoy concludes, live only to gratify their 
 desire for luxuries, comforts and idleness, enjoying them- to Blame? 
 selves in a place where nothing is produced and everj'thing 
 is swallowed up, plundering the laborer and then tempting 
 him. The poor, on the other hand (the majority of people), 
 labor under terrible privations, under a form of slavery 
 imposed by those who own the money and the land and con- 
 trol the government. The relation between the rich and 
 poor is now clear. For a man who actually produces noth- 
 ing and only swallows up what is produced by the labor 
 of another, clearly increases the labor of that other. The 
 two conditions are inseparable and the one proceeds from 
 the other. The wealth of the rich is entirely to hlame for 
 the poverty of the poor. Such is Tolstoy's diagnosis in 
 its simplest statement. 
 
 In order better to conceal the relation, the rich have, by 
 their wealth, raised a barrier of education between them- 
 selves and the poor. Tolstoy now sees that this barrier 
 must be broken down if the rich are to help the poor, and 
 that the rich must learn to produce. "It is as if I were 
 sitting on the neck of a man, and, having quite crushed him 
 down, I compel him to carry me, and will not alight off 
 his shoulders, while I assure myself and others that I am 
 ver}^ sorry for him, and wish to ease his condition by every 
 
 20 Ibid., p. 62 (tr. Wiener, p. 74).
 
 80 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 means in my power except by getting off his back. ' '-^ The 
 reason why his charity plan had not helped was because 
 he was really only drawing bills of exchange on the poor 
 when he gave to the poor. He had been taking coins away 
 by the thousands and giving them singly. The true remedy, 
 he concludes, has been hidden to the rich by that barrier 
 which thej^ have raised, and by "the dreadful dark of 
 prejudice in which we live." The common attitude of 
 apathy and fatalism toward the problem of poverty has 
 been fostered, too, by the position of the church, the state, 
 and science and art, which accepted the false division of 
 labor, and division of agents, and money slavery, as inevit- 
 able and even natural, thus separating themselves from 
 the service of the people. 
 
 Seeing the reasons for the abnormal condition of society, 
 and recognizing that condition exactly as it exists, Tolstoy 
 now begins to see the answer to his question, "What is 
 to be done?" So far, he exclaims, he has been head over 
 heels in the mud, and has been trying to drag others out 
 of it. But now, having diagnosed the trouble, he is on dry 
 land and proceeds sanely to his remedy. 
 
 Tolstoy's 
 
 Social 
 
 Ideal 
 
 Throughout Tolstoy's long investigation of the causes 
 of misery, glimpses are given of his social ideal. Pieced 
 into a whole, these disconnected bits picture the human race 
 living in a peacefully anarchistic or communistic state, 
 without rich or poor, each man being credited with what 
 he produces, and debited with what he consumes, and each 
 with a just share in all land and property. There is to be 
 a right division of labor, in which every man sacrifices him- 
 self to that work which is for the good of all, testing the 
 utility of that work solely by the demand for it by other 
 men. Money is to be used, if at all, without that accom- 
 paniment of violence which makes it a means of slavery. 
 Government is not to be tolerated, and religion, science and 
 
 21 What Is To Be Done? p. 81 (tr. "Wiener, pp. 96-7).
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Bone?" 81 
 
 art will be known only insofar as their activities are con- 
 cerned with the welfare of the entire race. 
 
 With this picture in mind, of society "in health," it 
 is time to turn to Tolstoy 's remedy : to see how he proposes 
 to get away from that diseased condition which he has 
 described and diagnosed, and to rebuild the social struc- 
 ture according to the ideal.
 
 82 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 CHAPTER rV 
 
 TOLSTOY'S SUGGESTED REMEDY 
 
 Tolstoy does not offer to the world a clear-cut plan 
 of social reconstruction. With an instinctive distrust of 
 organization in any form, he bases his entire remedy for 
 the social disease on individual regeneration as opposed to 
 organized relief. He answers the title-question, "What is 
 to be done?," in a hundred ways, but always for the indi- 
 vidual, seldom even hinting at a plan for combined effort. 
 
 There is no high road to an understanding of what 
 Tolstoy would have us do. The answer must be picked 
 piecemeal from one end of the book to the other. He sum- 
 marizes parts of the answer in several places, but nowhere 
 is the total argument summed up. In this interpretation 
 the answer will be treated in arbitrary groups. For to 
 an orderly mind the message cannot but come more for- 
 cibly when it has been roughly systematized. The answer 
 is here divided into: (1) foundation tenets, (2) the remedy 
 as it concerns man 's struggle for existence and the material 
 welfare of the race (the economic answer, in a narrow 
 sense), (3) the remedy as it concerns man's intellectual 
 development (art and culture), (4) the remedy as it con- 
 cerns man's religious and ethical life, (5) the remedy as 
 it concerns the state and government. The divisions neces- 
 sarily overlap and interweave, but the general classification 
 covers the entire field of Tolstoy's teaching. 
 
 1. Foundation The ouc great foundation tenet of Tolstoy's message is 
 the brotherhood of man. To love and help others as your- 
 self — that is the underlying basis of his entire system of 
 life. It is at the bottom of his religious and ethical doc-
 
 1912] Cheneij: Tolstoy 's'' What Is To Be Done f" 83 
 
 trine, and of his economic argument. It is seldom directly 
 expressed in ^Yhat Is To Be Donef; but it shines out by 
 inference and suggestion from every chapter. Indeed it 
 is the passion of his life, which dominates every one of his 
 works : the love of others, and the absolute equality of men. 
 With this teaching in mind, we may turn to Tolstoy's 
 answers to certain aspects of the question: 
 
 These are, then, the answers to the question "What is to be 
 done?" which I have found for myself. 
 
 First, to avoid deceiving myself. However far I may have 
 gone astray from that road of life which my reason shows to me, 
 I must not be afraid of the truth. 
 
 Secondly, to renounce my own righteousness, my own advantages, 
 peculiarities, distinguishing me from others, and to confess the 
 guilt of such. 
 
 Thirdly, to fulfill that eternal, unquestionable law of man — by 
 laboring with all my being to struggle with nature, to sustain my 
 own life, and the lives of others. 22 
 
 The third of these answers is the summary of Tolstoy's 
 economic argument; but the other two may be considered 
 as akin to the foundation principle of the brotherhood of 
 man — being necessary preliminaries to the other aspects of 
 the message. 
 
 The first injunction, to avoid deceit, is emphasized by 
 Tolstoy several times: "We must neither deceive ourselves 
 nor others. We must not be afraid of the truth, whatever 
 the result may be. "-^ And again: " .... Not to invent 
 excuses, and not to accept excuses invented by others, in 
 order to hide from one's self the deduction of reason and 
 conscience; not to be afraid of contradicting all our en- 
 vironment, and of being left alone with reason and con- 
 science; not to be afraid of that condition to which truth 
 and conscience lead us; however dreadful it may be, it 
 cannot be worse than that which is based on deceit. ' '^* 
 
 22 Bhat Is To Be Done? p. 260 (tr. Wiener, p. 311). 
 ^3 Ibid., p. 241 (tr. Wiener, p. 290). 
 2ilhid., pp. 241-2 (tr. Wiener, p. 291).
 
 84 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 When we have gotten away from deceit, when we stand 
 face to face with the truth, then we must obey the second 
 injunction: repent. "Renounce my own righteousness, my 
 own advantages, peculiarities .... and confess the guilt 
 of such." "Instead of considering ourselves educated, we 
 must get to see our ignorance ; instead of imagining our- 
 selves to be kind and moral, we must acknowledge that we 
 are immoral and cruel ; instead of our own importance, we 
 must see our own insignificance."-^ We must consider our- 
 selves "like all other men." Such are the foundation ten- 
 ets, the principles which form the first division of the 
 answer. 
 
 2. Economic 
 Answer 
 
 Human Duty 
 of Labor 
 
 Having seen the truth, that is, avoided deceit, and having 
 repented and renounced, we are in a position to carry out 
 the second or economic answer: "to fulfill that eternal, 
 unquestionable law of man — by laboring with all my being 
 to struggle with nature, to sustain my own life, and the lives 
 of others. ' ' The emphasis is again and again placed on this 
 "human duty of labor." Labor must be acknowledged to 
 be "not a curse," but "the joy of life. "-*^ Man must cease 
 to desire to possess land or money, or rights of any kind, 
 and only desire to labor for himself and others. "My first 
 and unquestionable business is to earn my living, clothing, 
 heating, building, and so forth, and in doing this to serve 
 others as well as myself, because, since the world has ex- 
 isted, the first and unquestionable duty of every man has 
 been comprised in this."-' 
 
 Each man, Tolstoy argues, should be credited ^^^th what 
 he produces and debited with what he consumes, and unless 
 there is a balance on the credit side he is not fulfilling the 
 purpose of life. Recognizing the truth of the proverb that 
 "if there is one idle man there must be another who is 
 starving," each man must work as much as possible, and 
 
 25 What Is To Be Done? p. 243 (tr. Wiener, p. 293). 
 20 Ibid., p. 258 (tr. Wiener, p. 308). 
 2-! Ibid., p. 246 (tr. Wiener, p. 296).
 
 Just Division 
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 85 
 
 have other men work for him as little as possible. In order 
 not to utilize the labor of others it is necessary for "every 
 man who is not a beast to hew that wood with which his 
 food is cooked and by which he is warmed; to clean those 
 boots in which he carelessly stepped into the mud ; to bring 
 that water with which he keeps himself clean, and to carry 
 away those slops in which he has washed himself."-^ 
 
 In order not to profit by another man's labor it is also 
 necessary "not to have more than one coat, and not to pos- 
 sess money. "^'* 
 
 The giving up of rights, of land, of money, and working 
 to keep ourselves in the struggle with nature, does not pre- of Labor 
 elude a just division of labor. Everyone must do a cer- 
 tain amount of physical labor, but it is justifiable to follow 
 a chosen line of other work if other men demand the pro- 
 ducts thereof — but the worker must be willing to go back and 
 devote himself entirely to the bodily struggle with nature 
 if the demand ceases. The sole exterior test of the value 
 of any activity must be "the acknowledgment of the utility 
 of that activity by those to whom it is produced. "^'^ But 
 there should also be in the producer ' ' the desire to be of use 
 to others lying at the root of the activity."^*' True division 
 of labor should consist in the conscious self-sacrifice of each 
 worker in giving himself up to that form of production 
 which is for the good of all. And no laborer can do so 
 much that he is justified in indulging himself in expensive 
 foods, elaborate dress, and other luxuries, or in freeing 
 himself entirely from the more disagreeable forms of work. 
 
 Tolstoy applies his test not only to the useful arts and ^- intellectual 
 sciences, but to the field of fine art and those other activities 
 which are termed intellectual. "The business of science 
 is to serve people. "^^ He would sweep aside the achieve- 
 ment of modern invention insofar as it disregards the sanc- 
 
 2s Ibid., p. 143 (tr. Wiener, p. 173). 
 ^^ Ibid., p. 142 (tr. "Wiener, p. 172). 
 ^olbid., p. 173 (tr. "Wiener, p. 210). 
 SI Ibid., p. 217 (tr. "Wiener, p. 262),
 
 86 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 tity of human life and departs from the service of the 
 masses. All science and all art are to be judged solely by 
 the degree to wliich they ease the life of the laborer or to 
 which they teach him how to live better. ' ' Art and science 
 promise to put forth the mental activity of mankind for 
 the welfare of society or even of the whole of mankind. 
 And therefore we have a right to call only such activity 
 art and science which has this aim in view and attains it. "^^ 
 The engineer, the surgeon, the teacher, the artist, all 
 must consider not their rights but their duties. Each must 
 suffer for mankind, must deny himself — in short, must bear 
 a cross. All the false and meretricious art and science 
 which now claim the name, serving only the rich few, must 
 give way to an art and science that will serve all men 
 alike. Tolstoy's answer for the doctor is that he shall live 
 among the people as an equal and in their service ; for the 
 teacher, that he shall live with those he teaches, and accept 
 • what they offer in return ; for the engineer, that he, too, 
 shall come to live among the laboring people, and apply 
 his knowledge to the easing of their work; and for the 
 artist, that he shall renounce the differences which separate 
 him from the common workingman and follow his art only 
 when the result is intelligible and useful to the masses. 
 Answer Under this portion of the chapter concerned with the 
 
 economic and intellectual answers, it is necessary to place 
 Tolstoy's answer to women, which he discusses separately 
 at the end of his book. Women, he says, have broken the 
 law of life far less than men. "The service of mankind 
 is divided into two parts — one, the augmentation of the 
 welfare of mankind ; the other, the continuation of the race. 
 Men are called chiefly to the first, as they are deprived of 
 the possibility of fulfilling the second. Women are called 
 exclusively to the second, as they only are fitted for it. "^^ 
 Tolstoy praises the fruitful mother, who "brings forth and 
 nurses her children herself." The woman who evades child- 
 
 for Women 
 
 32 What Is To Be Done? p. 235 (tr. Wiener, p. 283). 
 S3 Ibid., p. 281 (not in Wiener translation).
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoij's ''What Is To Be Done?" 87 
 
 bearing is no better than the prostitute of the street. It 
 is only necessary for a woman not to consider the sex-rela- 
 tion a means of living, either as a wife or as a prostitute, 
 but to bear children honorably and with full consciousness 
 of the cross she is called upon to carry in the months of 
 pregnancy and nursing; in thus sacrificing herself willingly 
 to the good of mankind, she is fulfilling life's purpose. 
 Tolstoy gratuitously adds that "the astounding nonsense 
 which is called woman's rights" was invented for the 
 "woman who artificially remains childless,"^* who has 
 been corrupted by man and has been reduced to his level 
 of depravity. He places the mother as a model before men 
 as a true worker for the good of the world, and appeals to 
 all women to fulfill the duties of motherhood, and further 
 to train their children to similar sacrifice. If they are doing 
 that, they need not ask ivhat is to he done. 
 
 Leaving the purely economic and cultural aspects of thp 
 remedy, we now turn to Tolstoy's answer as it concerns 
 religion and ethics — the spiritual and moral aspects. 
 
 Tolstoy's religion and ethics are one. The essence of 4. Religious 
 his religion is in the conduct of man to man. His whole ^^^ Ethical 
 religious structure is built on the ethical precept of brother- 
 ly love — active love of man for men. His desire is more 
 for the kingdom of God on earth, bringing happiness to men 
 here and now through love and harmony, than for the 
 blessings of a life to follow. He did not worry about a 
 future life, and was willing to let it take care of itself, if 
 he could only fulfill the purpose of life on earth. He 
 expresses a profound belief in the purposefulness of life 
 and in a definite relation between man and God — that power 
 which actuates man's reason and conscience. The destiny 
 of man, he believes, is the fulfillment of God's will; he ex- 
 presses the thought in other form when he writes that "the 
 sole business of all men is the elucidation of moral truths"; 
 and again that the purpose of man 's life is to do that which 
 
 3* Ibid., p. 275 (tr. Wiener, p. 331).
 
 88 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 God desires, that is, do good and promote the welfare of 
 mankind. 
 
 Tolstoy finds his religious and ethical answer to the 
 question "What, then, shall we do?" in the Gospels, in 
 the spirit of John the Baptist's answer to the question. 
 
 John the Baptist, in answer to men 's question, ' ' What shall we 
 do, then?" answered plainly and briefly, "He that hath two coats, 
 let him impart to him that hath none ; and he that hath meat, let 
 him do likewise. "35 
 
 The same thing, and with still greater clearness, said Christ, 
 blessing the poor and uttering woes on the rich. He said that no 
 man can serve God and mammon.ss 
 
 This, in short, is Tolstoy 's answer to Christians : follow 
 the true teachings of Christ, and disregard the false 
 Christianity of dogma and superstition; care not for 
 material things, but find happiness and spiritual satisfac- 
 tion in working for the good of others ; deliberately pro- 
 mote the union of mankind by religion. 
 
 Tolstoy takes the basis of his moral and ethical code 
 from the five injunctions of Christ expressed in the Sermon 
 on the Mount, which, while not expressed directly in What 
 Is To Be Done?, cover admirably many of the scattered 
 points there. These rules he would put in the place of 
 the ten commandments: (1) avoid anger, (2) do not lust, 
 but choose one woman and live with her, (3) do not bind 
 yourself by oaths, (4) never resist evil by force, never re- 
 turn violence for violence, (5) love your enemies. ^^ 
 
 These injunctions, since they embrace that doctrine of 
 non-resistance which Tolstoy applies to both religion and 
 government, may well serve to carry the discussion from 
 the religious aspect of the answer to the governmental 
 aspect. 
 
 "•" Luke iii. 11. 
 
 :"•• (Vhat Is To Be Done? pp. 137-8 (tr. Wiener, pp. l()C-7). 
 37 Cf. Tolstoy, My Religion, translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, 
 Estes, 1904), pp. 93, 165-6, 203.
 
 Answer 
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 89 
 
 In the preface of The Slavery of Our Times (1900), s. Govem- 
 Tolstoy says that the fundamental idea of What Is To Be 
 Done? is the rejection of violence, that being the doctrine of 
 ** non-resistance " which had been formulated in My Religion 
 and applied to a certain extent in What Is To Be Done? 
 As it concerns the curing of social wrongs, this teaching 
 urges the use of unresisting love to overcome evil, as against 
 the use of coercion and violence : overcome evil solely by 
 good. Never resist, but turn the other cheek; and do not 
 defend your property if others attempt to take it. All 
 government by force must be abolished. For as long as 
 there is government, i.e., organized armed violence, slavery 
 will exist, and wealth will be accumulated among the op- 
 pressors. When there is no government there will be no 
 armies and no wars, no courts and no lawsuits, and no 
 official class to swallow the products of others. Instead, 
 Tolstoy says, there will be a state of peaceful anarchy in 
 which all men will work for each other's good, restrained 
 from evil and violence by reason and conscience and moral 
 suasion. Repression and coercion will not be necessary as 
 love will adjust all relations between men. 
 
 In order to do away with, governments, which exist 
 only to oppress the people, it is necessary for everyone 
 simply to refuse to take part in governmental affairs. This, 
 then, is the answer to the title-question as it concerns the 
 abolishment of government : take no part in military affairs, 
 nor in official work of any sort, take no pensions, pay no 
 taxes, and in every way act as though no government ex- 
 isted. 
 
 These, then, are Tolstoy's many answers to the question, 
 "What shall we do then?" It is little wonder that the 
 reader who has turned to the book to find clear-cut injunc- 
 tions as to what he shall do, turns away with a sensation 
 of confusion. For there is much in the answer that seems 
 a mere mass of unrelated generalities. 
 
 In closing the chapter it is well to put in a single para-
 
 90 TJyiiversity of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 graph those bald precepts Avhieh carry, either directly or hy 
 suggestion, the essence of Tolstoy's message. 
 Essence of Avoid deceit, and do not be afraid to contradict all your 
 
 the Remedy environment and face the truth ; cease seeking for pleasure 
 and luxury, renounce your advantages, and live like the 
 working people and among them ; labor with all your being 
 in the struggle for bread; sacrifice yourself consciously for 
 the good of others, considering not rights but duties; do 
 not have more than one coat, and do not possess land or 
 money, but further the brotherly equalization of property; 
 make the welfare of mankind your religion, professing 
 Christ's true teaching and tearing down the superstitions 
 of false Christianity; refuse to take part in any form of 
 government activity; and through it all, everywhere and 
 at all times, love your brother men. 
 
 Such is the remedy which, by regenerating men indi- 
 vidually, will peacefully revolutionize the social system, will 
 make all men free and equal and happy, and will do away 
 with that poverty which so distressed Tolstoy in Moscow 
 and led him to ask, "What is to be done?"
 
 1912] Cheneij: Tolstorj's'nVhat Is To Be Done?" 91 
 
 PART II. A CRITICAL ESTIMATE OP THE VALUE 
 
 OF THE BOOK TO THE PRESENT REBUILD- 
 
 ING OF THE SOCIAL STRUCTURE 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE VALUE OF THE PICTURE AND DIAGNOSIS 
 
 If this essay has accomplished its purpose, it has pre- 
 sented a reasonably complete interpretation of Tolstoy's 
 book. A simple sketch in black and white has been built 
 up of Tolstoy's elaborately colored picture of poverty and 
 vice; the argument of his diagnosis has been condensed to 
 its barest form ; and the essence of his remedy has been 
 presented in organized outline, summarizing as far as pos- 
 sible his answer to the question, "What is to be done?" 
 Thus the interpretative half of the essay is finished. It 
 is now necessary to turn to the second half — at once the 
 more difficult and the more important — to estimate critically 
 the value of the book to the present-day rebuilding of the 
 social structure. 
 
 As a preliminary it is necessary to indicate Avhat is to Modem social 
 be understood by the phrase modern social reconstruction. Reconstruc- 
 Is there a movement for social rebuilding which is any- 
 thing more than a periodic housecleaning of the social 
 structure? Every magazine and every newspaper shouts 
 its reply to the four winds ; some by the frankest discussion 
 of social problems and of the increasing unrest; and some, 
 to be sure, by eagerly asserting that things are very satis- 
 factory as they are. Library shelves are daily becoming 
 
 tion
 
 92 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 more crowded by pro-and-con literature, written by anar- 
 chists, socialists, social workers, labor leaders, educators, 
 and even by business and professional men and women, and 
 by the clergy. Our actual experience every day encounters 
 the movement, in industry, in business, in politics, in school 
 and church. There is indeed a mighty unrest upon the 
 nations. The poor and the workingmen are the hotbed of 
 the movement, but joining with them is an ever increasing 
 army of sincere and ardent workers drawn from the other 
 strata of society. Their activity finds a thousand outlets, 
 and the reformers seem at times to be working directly 
 against each other — but all are fired by the one enthusi- 
 asm for social justice. The most hopeful sign for the suc- 
 cess of the movement is the crumbling of the fatalistic 
 attitude — the acknowledgment that Avar and prostitution 
 and crime, and even poverty, can be reduced by an evolu- 
 tion or revolution of society to negligible quantities. To- 
 gether with this crumbling of fatalism has come a startling 
 revelation of the present extent of these evils and of their 
 economic causes. It is these things that have caused 
 universal social unrest, and against them the social forces 
 are struggling. In a thousand guises and on a thousand 
 fields the new army is fighting against vice, poverty, and 
 disease, in every form; and the new and greatest battle of 
 all, against the economic causes of all these evils, has begun. 
 When the smoke clears away, decades hence, the humani- 
 tarians hope to see a world in which there will be no causes 
 of misery, and in which every person will have a share, not 
 only in the surplus of material blessings, but of those 
 humanizing influences which make life healthy, happy and 
 noble. 
 
 Yes, truly the social structure is being rebuilt. The 
 work is slow, terribly slow for the impatient worker ; there 
 are many false starts, and the plans are far from clear. 
 But today more than ever before the world is aroused to 
 the necessity of the work, and the social movement has 
 more definite form tlian ever in history.
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 93 
 
 What part has Tolstoy in the movement? What does 
 his book, WJiat Is To Be Donef, bring to the rebuilding of 
 the structure? In the first place, of what value is his pic- 
 ture of misery, of poverty and vice, and of contrasting 
 wealth ? 
 
 Obviously a picture and diagnosis can have no value vaiue of 
 as an actual cure for the social disease. But they may have * ^ "^*^^* 
 immense value as an indication of the extent of the trouble 
 and as impulses to the social doctors. They may open the 
 way to a cure and so be entirely necessary to the cure. 
 The value of Tolstoy's picture is this: that it shows con- 
 ditions as they are (not as the smug citizen supposes they 
 are), and that it shows the need for action. The misery 
 is so brought home to the reader that he cannot remain 
 ignorant of the horror that exists almost at his elbow. 
 There is no illusion, no story told for effect ; it is life 
 itself suddenly flashed into his consciousness, with all its 
 sordidness, hopelessness, and pathetic need of betterment. 
 Throughout all his soul-stirring books, Tolstoy never wrote 
 anything more soul-stirring than some of the descriptive 
 passages in What Is To Be Done? In this appeal to the 
 reader's soul — and the readers cannot be counted — is the 
 value of the picture. It has been well termed Russia's 
 contribution to the world's exposition of M^retchedness. 
 
 If Tolstoy's picture of poverty and vice stirs the reader's vaiue of 
 soul, his diagnosis must carry conviction of sin. The pic- ^^'^ Diagnosis 
 ture is a bit of life itself ; but in the diagnosis Tolstoy uses 
 all of his unconscious art to arouse the consciences of his 
 readers. He brings the guilt home to every social parasite 
 and he makes every reader feel a personal responsibility for 
 the existence of evil. He breaks down the barrier which 
 separates the poor from the rest of the world, and lets a 
 great white light into "the dreadful dark of prejudice." 
 
 The long didactic discussion of money — so different Vaiue of 
 from the rest of the book — would require a book in itself Anriv^is 
 to prove or refute the argument. But what is important 
 here is that its arraignment of political economy exhibits
 
 94 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 Tolstoy's great sympathy and his passion for the welfare 
 of humanity. It lays bare political economy's great basic 
 injustice: its taking of wealth as the beginning and end of 
 its aim, and treatment of man as an incidental fact. Tol- 
 stoy, on the other hand, takes man as the starting point and 
 insists that wealth should be considered only as contributing 
 to or taking aAvay from man's welfare. The scientists are 
 comparable to those factory-owners of today who drive 
 their workers to the limit of endurance in order to increase 
 production, and discard them when they are prematurely 
 worn out, considering men only as a means of production; 
 whereas Tolstoy would have us consider the product only 
 as a contribution to man's comfort, and the welfare of men 
 as the final object. 
 
 Throughout the diagnosis Tolstoy carries the conviction 
 that there is something higher and more valuable to human- 
 ity than the institutions of money and political science and 
 selfish religion. He destroys the long-established concep- 
 tions that these institutions are sacred when separated from 
 the service of mankind. He shows the rottenness of the 
 existing social structure, challenges its sacredness, and by 
 beginning its demolition, he paves the way for the new. 
 
 The effect of Tolstoy's revelation of conditions, and of 
 his direct way of calling the guilty guilty, is felt not in 
 one class of men but in all. The tremendous popularity o£ 
 his earlier books in all civilized countries doubtless carried 
 What Is To Be Done? into the hands of many who found 
 it a champion of their cause, as well as to many who read 
 it in luxury, which it turned suddenly unbearable. In a 
 world become full of revelations, it is difficult to estimate 
 the value to the social rebuilding of one of the greatest of 
 these revelations. But certainly no picture and diagnosis 
 of the social wrong ever did more to make men feel ''not 
 merely that these things must be ended but also that the 
 greatest and most inspiring work a man can do is to lielp 
 end them."^^ 
 
 3« Maude, The Life of Tolstoy, ii, 277.
 
 Movement 
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 95 
 
 There is a new feeling in the social movement today Soui of the 
 which is the very embodiment of this inspiration and 
 spiritual impulse of Tolstoy. It is what may be called the 
 ''soul of the social movement," the personal equation in 
 social service, a spiritual understanding between all the 
 helpers, a sympathetic, purposive co-operation. It is based 
 on a generous humanitarianism, directly opposed to the 
 dry-eyed, empty-hearted, giving-of-money charity. It is 
 a growing, thinking force which is aiming not at misery 
 but at the causes of misery, a force which is gradually 
 taking the form of a world-conscience. To this soul of the 
 social movement Tolstoy brought a wonderful impulse. 
 Whether his suggested remedy is good or not, his picture 
 and diagnosis have stirred men's souls and brought ardent 
 personal workers to the field. Even if he fail us as a guide, 
 as an inspiration he is a world-power.
 
 96 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE VALUE OF THE REMEDY 
 
 We have seen how Tolstoy, by his exposition of misery 
 and his study of its causes, cleared the way of old super- 
 stitions about the sacredness and indestructibility of the 
 existing social structure, and how he contributed to the 
 spirit of the rebuilders. For that he must be considered 
 invaluable to modern social reconstruction. But turning 
 from the value of his picture and diagnosis, we may in- 
 quire now what is the value of his plans for the new struc- 
 ture, what the value of his constructive remedy for existing 
 evils. For Tolstoy did propound a cure. He sincerely 
 believed that, if the world would accept the teachings set 
 forth in What Is To Be Donef, a new social order would 
 follow, bringing with it justice and peace and happiness 
 to all men. The aim of this chapter is to separate the true 
 from the false in the answer, to inquire to what extent the 
 plans are of value to the workers in current reconstruction, 
 and to what extent the present generation of humanitarians 
 is obliged to depart from the plans. These are questions 
 which no one of Tolstoy's commentators has adequately 
 treated ; there has hardl}^ been an attempt to consider them. 
 So with one eye on the basic principles which the prophets 
 of all ages have held to, and with the other on the present 
 world-wide social movement, let us try to draw a true line 
 between what, in Tolstoy's teachings, is prophetic fact and 
 what is fallacy. And let us try to do this impersonally and 
 dispassionateh', attempting to get that outsider's birdseye 
 view of imminent social changes which is at once so difficult 
 to attain and yet so necessary if one's opinions are to be 
 uncolored by personal prejudice.
 
 1912] Chenexj: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 97 
 
 In the first place, let us face the one basic fact (so ob- Breadth 
 scure to many reformers) that there is no sinj^le highroad godaA 
 to social justice. Neither the socializing of the churches, Problem 
 nor the attainment of pure democracy, nor the public owner- 
 ship of machinery, nor universal peace, is going to accom- 
 plish the humanitarian 's dream. The inevitable change that 
 is stirring the world is not essentially religious, or political, 
 or economic ; it is an evolutionary force involving every 
 phase of each one of these directions of reform. The 
 achievement of economic justice will come only with a solid 
 basis of religious enthusiasm and with political betterment. 
 Nor will the strengthening of the world's moral fiber ac- 
 complish anything if it be separated from economic reform. 
 Of the three rough divisions, political reconstruction, re- 
 ligious reconstruction, and economic reconstruction, doubt- 
 less the third is the heart of the movement. For the first 
 fact of life is that man must have food, clothing, and shel- 
 ter. And by concentrating on the economic phase, humani- 
 tarians will meet the most immediate need of the world, by 
 saving the great waste of human life, and affording to all 
 a chance to enjoy the higher pleasures. But the import- 
 ance of concurrent religious development and political bet- 
 terment must be kept in mind — else the benefits will not 
 be lasting. 
 
 This sense of the interweaving nature of social move- Tolstoy's Lack 
 
 , • J.- 1 •!! J.1 £ • i 1 I,- of Perspective 
 
 ments is entirelj' necessary ii the reformer is to keep his 
 bearings on the great sea of social work. It is a sense 
 which Tolstoy lacked to a marked degree. His desire for 
 a simple, immediate, all-embracing change, his distrust 
 and suspicion of the plans of others, and his impatience with 
 any movement outside of his own isolated course of life, 
 made it impossible for him to recognize the possibility of 
 reaching social justice through an evolutionary process 
 taking place in a hundred directions. In a sense he did 
 see political, economic, and religious answers to his ques- 
 tion, "What is to be done?," but he did not see the rela- 
 tion between them. He treated each as a separate thing —
 
 98 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 and right there is the source of that confusion which the 
 reader feels at the end of the book. And there, too, is the 
 source of the fallacy which underlies the futility of his 
 political teachings and the half-truths of his economic reme- 
 dies. It is a false attitude toward the social movement, a 
 faulty method of attack. 
 The Tolstoy plans to revolutionize society entirely by in- 
 
 Fundamentai dividual regeneration: to persuade men to better them- 
 selves, and then to stand aside from the main current of 
 human affairs. Because complex modern life has brought 
 new evils, he would have each man reform personally and 
 then place himself in isolation far away from the world 
 machinery. 
 
 But Tolstoy saw only half of the truth. It is indeed 
 true that the fundamental change which each man can 
 bring to the rebuilding of society is the revolution of his 
 own mind and heart. But if he stops there he has fulfilled 
 only half of his social duty. It is as if he used up all of 
 his strength and resources in building a fine foundation for 
 his house and had nothing left for the building of the 
 superstructure. 
 
 In rebuilding the social structure humanity must have 
 this solid foundation of individual regeneration. The re- 
 former must reform himself first. But beyond that there 
 is a crying need for organized regeneration, for a sense of 
 public obligation. We who live in the maelstrom of com- 
 plex modern life, as Tolstoy did not, see certain truths 
 which escaped him entirely. We see that it is necessary 
 to follow his injunction and regenerate individually, and 
 then to cut loose from his guidance and throw our whole 
 weight into revolutionizing the existing world machinery. 
 We see that in the present complex social system individual 
 personal effort and example can do nothing more than 
 stir the surface ; that organized and public effort are neces- 
 sary in order to move the masses. The present organiza- 
 tion of society has terribly evil aspects, but though evil 
 be piled on evil, we shall not, like Tolstoy, brush aside im-
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoij's" What Is To Be Done f" 99 
 
 patiently the entire achievement of modern civilization. It 
 is this very organized achievement, which Tolstoy combats, 
 that has brought the world to the point of producing an 
 over-ijbundance of food and clothing, more than enough for 
 every living being. It is not fairly distributed and the sys- 
 tem is terribly defective as yet, but justice is within reach 
 at last. Then the thing to do is not to turn back but to 
 go on and correct the system. We must work toward a 
 common social destiny by further and more complete or- 
 ganization. A sentence written by Jane Addams, and called 
 by Aylmer Maude the profoundest c„Tid truest criticism of 
 Tolstoyism he knows, sums up Tolstoy's individualistic 
 fallacy admirably: "We are learning that a standard of 
 social ethics is not attained by traveling sequestered by- 
 ways, but by mixing on the thronged and common road 
 where all must turn out for one another, and at least see 
 the size of one another's burdens. "^'^ 
 
 Truly this fault, which allows Tolstoy to be content with 
 the man who personally reforms and then steps out of the 
 world's affairs, is a great one. It forces us to discount im- 
 mediately the value of his remedy to modern reconstruc- 
 tion. Had w^e not already seen the impulse he gave to 
 rebuilding, and were some of the other aspects of his 
 remedy less fine, we could not forgive him. But he is 
 great in spite of his f^iults. 
 
 In considering the value of Tolstoy's teaching to polit- vaiue of 
 ical reconstruction the fundamental fault is most apparent. Political 
 Political reconstruction for Tolstoy means the attainment 
 of a condition where politics is non-existent. His answer 
 to the political aspect of the title-question is at least straight- 
 forward: "Abolish government." To do this it is only 
 necessary for each individual to refuse to take any part 
 in government affairs. 
 
 The state of peaceful anarchy that would ensue, Tol- 
 stoy thinks, would preclude laws, courts, armies, navies, the 
 
 39 Democracy and Social Ethics (New York, Maemillan, 1902), p. 9.
 
 100 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 official class, and the military class, "i.e., people educated 
 and fore-appointed to murder."*" There would be no such 
 thing as patriotism. Men would be restrained from violence 
 by conscience and reason and moral suasion. 
 
 It is difficult to see either in Tolstoy's independent 
 nature, or in the continual persecution by the Russian gov- 
 ernment, sufficient re&son for his anarchic doctrine. To the 
 student of human nature anarchy is an impossible solu- 
 tion of human problems. 
 
 In the first place, wherever human beings come in con- 
 tact on the earth there is bound to be friction sooner or 
 later. Where there is friction there is need of a tribunal, 
 and as soon as a tribunal is established, the germ of govern- 
 ment is introduced. And it is not a great step from the 
 simplest court to the ponderous national mechanism of 
 today. Government is necessary so long as human nature 
 is not revolutionized. 
 
 Tolstoy's answer as it concerns government is worthless 
 to the social movement. The modern reformer sees that, 
 to reach social justice, government is not to be abolished, 
 but that it must be used to that end. Instead of refusing 
 to take part in government affairs, he does all he can to 
 shape government activities to social ends. He pays his 
 share of taxes and at the same time tries to readjust more 
 fairly the tax sj'stem. He accepts political office to fight 
 the more effectually for the people. In short, he recog- 
 nizes that if existing government is harmful to the people's 
 interests the way to remed}^ the matter is not to stand aside 
 but to do his best to turn it to the service of the people. 
 Moreover he recognizes that government is the only power 
 strong enough to accomplish and maintain social justice. 
 Only where men have organized, limiting individual free- 
 dom for the common good, have they even approached the 
 social ideal. 
 
 <" From a letter on the South African War by Tolstoy, quottnl by 
 Maude, Tolstoy and His Problems (London, Eichards, 1902), p. 183.
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 101 
 
 Of course Tolsto}^ sees the abolishment of war in the Toistoy and 
 
 abolishment of government ; and civilization should be will- 
 ina: to make almost any sacrifice to rid itself of the horrors 
 of war. The fearful waste of life and property in time 
 of war, and the standing armies and navies sapping the 
 vitality of nations in time of peace — these are evils of a 
 pjvgan time. No student of current life can doubt for a 
 moment that world-peace is inevitable. "War will be swept 
 away with its sister evils by the tide of human sympathy 
 which is increasingly shaping the world's destinies. It is 
 too foreign to the whole spirit of modern times, and to the 
 aims of the new social movement, to last. But the quickest 
 and securest way to universal peace is not through the 
 gradual abolishment of government, but through &n inter- 
 national tribunal gained by union of effort of national gov- 
 ernments. 
 
 If Tolstoy's way to universal peace is wrong, at least 
 he did help in great me&sure to stir the world to a 
 realization of its guilt. He is doubtless right in declaring 
 that nations do not go to war to secure justice or to further 
 peace, but for the sake of w^ealth, or on account of an 
 over-conscious and misguided patriotism. We may easily 
 agree with him that war is usually based on the prestige of 
 gold — how much his cry is like th&t hurled at our national 
 government today: "Dollar diplomacy!" — but few of us 
 will agree that patriotism is entirely bad. Love of home and 
 family, love of city, love of country, love of humanity' — 
 they are simply units within units. Each one is necessary 
 in its place and in proper relation to the others. The man 
 who is always ready to snatch a gun and cry "My country, 
 right or wrong," is as guilty as the thief or capitalist who 
 says "My purse, right or wrong." But there is a better 
 sort of patriotism, which places justice higher than the 
 national interest. It is through the education of the people 
 to this higher patriotism, and through the decreased power 
 of gold in government, resulting in union of the nations, 
 that universal peace wall be established — and not, as Tol- 
 
 Universal 
 Peace
 
 Resistance 
 
 102 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 stoy believed, through the abolishment of patriotism and 
 government. 
 Value of Non- There is one more phase of Tolstoy's political teaching 
 to be discussed, the governmental aspect of non-resistance. 
 As a whole it is the most clearly fallacious, even ridiculous, 
 of all of Tolstoy's teachings. Nevertheless it is probably 
 the source of two of the most promising forces in present- 
 day reform. 
 
 All government by force is wrong, Tolstoy teaches; 
 violence must not be used even against criminals. But 
 the modern complex world, however much it sees the beauty 
 of non-resistance in theory, sees one step further; it recog- 
 nizes that until some other very revolutionary changes oc- 
 cur, some repressive measures must be taken. But — and 
 here is the value of Tolstoy's teaching — among the prisons 
 the ones that have adopted the "golden rule" system are 
 the ones that are driving the criminal tendency out of the 
 world. In the darkness of prison evils — become for us a 
 national shame — the only light has arrived through Tol- 
 stoy's doctrine of the golden rule. 
 
 The other valuable heritage that we receive from non- 
 resistance is the attitude toward the stamping-out of crime. 
 We have suddenly stopped increasing our police forces, 
 which fight against results of crime only. But we are in- 
 creasing a thousand-fold the forces which fight against the 
 causes of crime. Again it is the rule of non-resistance, not 
 pure but modified, which actuates us. The teaching is that 
 we need not consider how to prevent murder, and prostitu- 
 tion, and theft, if we will only fight hard enough to eradi- 
 cate anger, lustfulness, and covetousness. Instead of fight- 
 ing evil with all our strength we are providing good. In 
 this, modern social reconstruction is certainly carrying out 
 Tolstoy's teaching as far as is possible in a complex world, 
 however indirect the impulse from Tolstoy may be. 
 
 In spite of Tolstoy's plea for "no-government," the 
 world marches to increasing and ever-increasing democracy. 
 Out of the wreck of his political plan, modern reformers
 
 1912] Chenetj: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 103 
 
 have grasped just two things of value to the new social 
 structure — the idea of the golden rule in prison adminis- 
 tration, and the shifting of the attack on evil from the 
 police force to an army of humanitarians. 
 
 Tolstoy prefaced his plan for religious betterment with 
 an appeal to avoid deceit, face the truth and adopt an 
 humble rather than a self-righteous attitude toward the 
 world. In seeking helpers in his charity plan he had en- 
 countered every sort of deceptive excuse, of self-righteous- 
 ness and of apathy. As Tolstoy found it thirty years ago, 
 so the humanitarian finds it today. The first enemies to 
 be fought are those static forces, complacency, ignorance 
 and apathy. The smug citizen, hugging the pet prejudices 
 which have been his from time immemorial, satisfied with 
 things as they are, confining his religion to Sundays, mar- 
 riages and funerals, is the great stumbling-block to better- 
 ment. Every social reformer will agree heartily that the 
 fulfillment of these preliminary precepts of Tolstoy is the 
 first need in social regeneration. If the world can be 
 awakened, can be made to face the truth, the battle is all 
 but won. 
 
 Tolstoy's religion is founded on the ethical precept of vaiue of 
 brotherly love ; the essence of his religious teaching is active Religious and 
 
 . Ethical 
 
 love of man for men ; he links religion to ethics, to conduct Remedy 
 in everyday human life; he appeals for the establishment 
 of God's kingdom on earth through harmony and love, and 
 leaves the life after death to take care of itself ; he preaches 
 a definite relation between man and God, and a definite 
 purpose in life, namely, to do God's will by promoting the 
 welfare of all men. He pleads on the one hand for the 
 socialization of religion, for the union of religion and 
 ethics; but on the other for the preservation of the belief 
 in a direct relation between the finite and the infinite, be- 
 tween man and God. 
 
 If one attempted a summary of the trend of the 
 Christian church today, could it be expressed better than
 
 104 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. i 
 
 Church 
 Reconstruc- 
 tion 
 
 Tolstoy's 
 Basis of 
 Morality 
 
 by repeating this summary of Tolstoy's religion? This 
 double teaching, of the social purpose of the church and of 
 the sacredness of the reverential attitude toward God, is 
 the very essence of the modern religious movement. How- 
 ever worthless some of the other aspects of Tolstoy 's remedy 
 may prove, he is preeminently the prophet of the new Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 But to pursue the point further, let us inquire what is 
 the new Christianity, and what is present-day church re- 
 construction. There is a curious anomaly in the use of 
 the term "new" Christianity; for really the movement is 
 only a return to the teachings of the founder of Christi- 
 anity. It is the return from the worship of church, to the 
 service of God and man according to Christ's doctrines. It 
 is the separation from that mass of church form and ritual, 
 of dogma and superstition, which had clogged religious 
 service, and prevented the church from helping humanity. 
 It is the growth of the sense that the duty of religion is 
 less to the church than to society. The old church, which 
 taught the sacredness of certain forms, which promised 
 happiness after death but did nothing to relieve the 
 wretchedness of humanity, which preached that every other 
 church w^as heretical, is giving way to the new church, which 
 brings religion to the solution of the problems of daily life, 
 which makes it a part of man's business and social code, 
 and which recognizes in other churches the same true aims. 
 No one can doubt that the church is going through a crisis 
 in its history. Whether it has educated the people beyond 
 its own limitations, or has divorced itself from the service 
 of the people, the fact remains that church attendance is 
 pitifully small; whether by its own fault, or by social revo- 
 lution, it has lost its place as the sole expression of man's 
 spiritual longing. 
 
 With the crumbling of the church power, there has 
 come the crumbling of that fear of future punishment and 
 of that hope of future reward which for centuries have 
 been the forces that inspired men to moral conduct. Man-
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 105 
 
 kind has been left for the moment without any tangible 
 bfiSis for moral responsibility. There has been, we are re- 
 minded daily, an alarming increase in moral laxness in 
 certain directions. But, on the other hand, there is building 
 a newer and truer foundation which links the duty to 
 God Avith the duty to man as a basis of man's conduct. 
 It is Tolstoy's teaching, which he took from the words of 
 Christ himself, that is the religion of the "progressive" 
 church today. For only insofar as the church adopts the 
 service of man as its foundation can it keep abreast of the 
 social movement. The struggle of the new idea is evident 
 in every denomination. Even Catholicism, that great 
 stronghold of ceremony and belief in the miraculous, is 
 shaken to its foundations by a "modernist" movement. 
 Doubtless the church will maintain its position as the dom- 
 inant expression of man's reverence. But other powers — 
 the drama, for instance — will stand side by side with it as 
 an inspiration to moral conduct and as a regenerating 
 force. To put the sense in different form, the new re- 
 ligion — the religion not of God alone but of God and man — - 
 will not find its outlet solely through the church. 
 
 It has been said that an honest religion is the noblest 
 work of man. Truly, spiritual satisfaction is a craving 
 that must be satisfied if the social structure is to last. And 
 the only satisfying basis of religion is the recognition of a 
 relation between God, or the infinite, or whatever you choose 
 to call it, and humanity. AVithout that spirit of reverence 
 which has been the glory of the churches, no religion can 
 stand. But Tolstoy builds up the new, not by destroying 
 the reverence of the old, but by adding to that reverence 
 a significance which has been hidden since Christ's own 
 time. He preserves the undefiled root of Christianity, but 
 strips it of all its later forms and superstitions; he clothes 
 it with an ethical code and a moral meaning that bring it 
 into definite relation with modern knowledge and reason, 
 and therefore to the service of humanity. 
 
 If, as some claim, Tolstoy sets up in non-resistance a
 
 106 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 superstition of his own that is either fallacious or so ideal- 
 istic as to be of no use to the complex world, the false light 
 is so dim as not to affect the illuminating quality of his 
 religious teaching as a whole. A few years before Tolstoy's 
 death, Lloyd wrote : ' ' Alone in that remote country house 
 the aged and revered figure lingers, a challenge in his own 
 person alike to the tyrants of Russian orthodoxy and to 
 the tj^rants of the world's materialism."*^ 
 
 Indeed Tolstoy is the prophet of the new Christianity, 
 his writings the embodiment of the whole trend of modern 
 religion. His value to religious reconstruction, to the spirit- 
 ual basis of every phase of social reconstruction, is such 
 that the world cannot measure it. 
 
 Value of 
 Economic 
 Remedy 
 
 No matter to what degree the world improves politically 
 and religiously, the great problem of poverty will remain 
 practically untouched until there is a mighty economic 
 change. The placing of government in the hands of the 
 people, and the attainment of religious enthusiasm and a 
 spirit of brotherly love, are essential, but the backbone of 
 the social movement is in practical relief based on a desire 
 for economic justice. 
 
 Tolstoy's remedy as it concerns man's material life is 
 summed up in three precepts : fulfill the human duty of 
 laboring with the hands in the struggle for bread; own no 
 land or money; and, in the division of labor, with con- 
 scious self-sacrifice, do only that work which is for the 
 good of all men, and which men demand. 
 
 By the ' ' human duty of labor ' ' Tolstoy means that every 
 human being should contribute something to the supply of 
 food, clothing, and shelter in the world. Not only must 
 each man produce that by which men live, but he must 
 also contract his own consumption to the point of bare 
 subsistence, and must wait on himself as far as possible 
 in order to avoid enslaving other men. 
 
 •41 Two Eussiau Reformers, p. 319.
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 107 
 
 Insofar as the teaching is meant for idlers it is doubt- Fallacy of 
 less sound. But to appl.y the doctrine to modern workers Teaching **' 
 would be to bring our entire complex industrial machinery 
 to a standstill. For the whole organization depends on each 
 man doing a certain thing well — which thing may not pro- 
 duce any kind of cloth or bread in itself but may serve 
 to allow another man to produce a living for a dozen men. 
 Certainly the existing system, in spite of its terrible faults, 
 has brought mankind nearer to world abundance and world 
 justice than ever before; humanity cannot afford to obey 
 Tolstoy's injunction to return to individual ''bread-labor." 
 
 We may well wish that every man would put some time 
 every day on physical labor. But the gain we see is to 
 the bodily health of the individual, and not to the produc- 
 tiveness of the world. Aylmer IMaude aptly says : ' ' Tol- 
 stoy 's bootmaking was of more value as a spiritual sedative 
 than it was as a contribution to the solution of the economic 
 problem."*- The same writer makes an illuminating com- 
 ment on Tolstoy's plea for bare subsistence, when he 
 answers to Tolstoy's "Consume as little as possible," "Con- 
 sume only what adds to your efficiency. ""^^ 
 
 Tolstoy's second precept is that a man must not own Land and 
 land or money. Community ownership of land is the bone 
 of contention in the Socialist world today, and happily even 
 the Socialists are turning away from the belief that all 
 land must be held in common. The world recognizes that 
 the foundation unit of civilization is the home, and that any 
 system which denies to a man a "home place" will be a 
 failure. What the economic reformer must oppose is not 
 the private ownership of land in use, but the ownership 
 of idle land, thus striking at the roots of land monopoliza- 
 tion and land speculation. Some modification of Henry 
 George's "single tax" plan is doubtless the tool that the 
 social movement will use : a plan that will drive idle land 
 into use, or at least out of the hands of speculation and 
 
 Money 
 Ownership 
 
 ■i- The Life of Tolstoy, ii, 347. 
 ^3 Ibid., ii, 282.
 
 108 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 monopoly, by shifting the entire tax from labor, or im- 
 provement, or any form of production, to the value of land 
 computed on a basis of natural productiveness and increase 
 through social forces such as proximity to city or railroad. 
 This system would not only help to put a home within 
 the reach of every worker, but would put a premium on 
 further production. Such a solution of the land problem 
 presupposes an accompanying solution of the problems of 
 "big business" through community ownership of public 
 utilities and government control and regulation of factory 
 and other production — reforms which are slowly but in- 
 evitably coming. 
 
 While Tolstoy did plead for community ownership of 
 land, he went so far in later life as to say that provided 
 men had to continue to live under governments, the single- 
 tax plan seemed the best solution. Yet through his later 
 life he continued to encourage his followers in the estab- 
 lishment of "Tolstoy colonies," communistic ventures, all 
 of which failed. Every visitor to these colonies carried away 
 the same impression of the serious purpose and sincerity 
 of the colonists ; but the principles of no-government and 
 no-property were fundamental faults that made success 
 impossible. 
 
 Money derives all its evil power, according to Tolstoy, 
 from the violence that is used by the governments to en- 
 force payments. He disposes of the matter by disposing 
 of governments. So he has no answer to help the reformer 
 solve the problems of capital which society must meet today. 
 "Own no money" is his precept to everyone. But money 
 must be used and therefore must be owned by individual 
 people or groups of people. Doubtless Tolstoy's further 
 answer would have been, "If you must have governments, 
 let them own the money." And that is what the world 
 is coming to, in a sense. That is, in time the people will 
 make such laws that the government will control and regu- 
 late the use of capital to such an extent that what money 
 remains in large sums in private hands will have to be
 
 Division 
 of Labor 
 
 1912] Cheneij: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 109 
 
 considered as a trust from the people to be used in the 
 service of the people. 
 
 Tolstoy's third precept is that each man shall con- Tolstoy's 
 sciously sacrifice himself to the community's good by doing 
 that sort of work which society demands. He sees that 
 there is a true and just division of labor, but he does not 
 acknowledge that any division can justify a man in freeing 
 himself from "bread-labor" entirely; every man must put 
 some hours each day in the actual production of food, 
 clothing and shelter, must wait on himself, and must do a 
 certain part of the disagreeable work of the world. But 
 after that he may devote himself to some specialized form 
 of help: as a doctor, as a teacher, as an engineer, as an 
 artist, or as any other kind of worker who aids humanity. 
 But in his division of labor Tolstoy does not recognize that 
 class of men who are working chiefly with their brains to 
 increase the productiveness of the world and to expedite 
 the distribution of products: the inventor, the organizer, 
 the tradesman and those other groups that make up the 
 great middle class. He recognizes very clearly the preda- 
 tory rich and the struggling poor. The fallacy goes back 
 again to the distrust of organization and to the ignorance 
 of complex conditions. He fails to see that the world may 
 be saved by organizing for the very purpose of giving every 
 man a fair living. He does not see that intelligence may 
 be so used in systematizing industry and production that 
 there may be a surplus of wealth which will reach every 
 member of society. He is ready to throw aside all the great 
 achievement of modern invention and co-operation, because 
 the poor have not been relieved and new evils have been 
 introduced. 
 
 Doubtless the great increase in wealth has not brought 
 justice to the poor, and the disregard for the sanctity of 
 human life in industry and trade is terrible ;** but the way 
 justly to distribute that wealth is not to destroy it, nor will 
 
 4-4 Cf. Arno Dosch, "Just Wops," Everyhody's Magazine, xxv, 579- 
 89 (Nov. 1911).
 
 1 
 
 110 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 the stopping of the industrial machines decrease the sum 
 total of human deaths. The true road to justice is in per- 
 fecting, not in destroying, the system. The middle-class 
 worker, striving to increase efficiency and to eliminate waste 
 in the production and distribution of wealth, is entirely 
 necessary to the w^orld. 
 
 As an instance of the scientist in the division of Ifibor, 
 Tolstoy takes the doctor. Under the present false division, 
 he says, the doctor only serves those who can pay large 
 fees, and has brought nothing to the alleviation of the 
 distress of the poor. His answer for the doctor is that he 
 shall live among the poor and serve them for such return 
 as they offer. The indictment comes strangely to our ears, 
 since we live in communities where doctors serve all and 
 so often charge according to the purse of the patient, where 
 free clinics are always at hand, and where the greatest 
 plagues and the most devastating diseases are all but under 
 control. There are unfortunately doctors who serve mam- 
 mon, just as there are waiters and teachers and clergymen. 
 But the doctor collectively is a true benefactor of the 
 whole race, and science has brought much to the rebuilding 
 of the social structure. Medicine in the future will be 
 largely preventive and constructive, just as engineering 
 will be increasingly constructive. We must put Tolstoy's 
 indictment down to that fallacy which came from half- 
 knowledge and prejudice. His answer to scientists can 
 have no value to reconstruction, 
 "^'aiue of The discussion of the division of labor leads naturally 
 
 Art^ Teaching ^^ ^^^ Consideration of Tolstoy's answer as it concerns art 
 and culture. Tolstoy recognizes clearly that art is a 
 humanizing force, and that it satisfies a craving in man 
 which the satisfaction of hunger and spiritual desire cannot 
 set aside. Pie believes that sincere art is wholly necessary 
 to the masses. His book What Is Art? (the seeds of which 
 are to be found in What Is To Be Done?) is not, as so many 
 critics claim, a renunciation of art.
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Doncf" 111 
 
 He does deny the value of that false and meretricious 
 art which is produced only for the rich. "What Tolstoy 
 conve3's is this : to the extent to which art gives pleasure 
 to the corrupt taste of the idle rich, and of all others cor- 
 rupted by our falsely-ordered society, it condemns itself as 
 bad and false. "*^ The rich have lost the true view of life, 
 and so of art, and a meretricious art has sprung up, to 
 satisfy them. This art Tolstoy would destroy. 
 
 But there is a true art. To quote Tolstoy's words : "Art 
 is a human activity, consisting in this, that one man con- 
 sciously, by means of certain external signs, hands on to 
 others feelings he has lived through, and that other people 
 are infected by these feelings, and also experience them."'*'' 
 "In our age the common religious perception of men is 
 the consciousness of the brotherhood of man — we know that 
 the well-being of man lies in union with his fellow-men. . . . 
 Art should transform this perception into feeling. The 
 task of art is enormous. Through the influence of real art, 
 aided by science guided by religion, that peaceful co- 
 operation of man which is now obtained by external means — 
 by our law-courts, police, charitable institutions, factory 
 inspection, etc.- — should be obtained by man's free and 
 joyous activity. Art should cause violence to be set 
 aside. . . . The task for Christian art is to establish 
 brotherly union among men."^^ The entire argument is 
 that art is valuable only insofar as it carries a message 
 and infects men with the desire for justice and truth. 
 Whatever the critics may say, and however much the fol- 
 lowers of "art for art's sake" may revolt, the world is 
 accepting the fundamental part of Tolstoy's teaching, over- 
 looking his overstatements for the sake of the true message 
 behind them. And doubtless the art world is profiting by 
 the doctrine; and art is aiding in the social reconstruction. 
 
 ••5 J. C. Kenworthy, Tolstoy: His Life and WorJcs (London, Scott, 
 1902), pp. 102-3. 
 
 46 Tolstoy, IVhat Is Art? translated by A. Maude (New York, 
 Scribner, 1904), p. 43; cf. ibid., translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, 
 Estes, 1904), p. 181. 
 
 <T Ibid., pp. 183-4 (tr. Wiener, pp. 342-4).
 
 112 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 Tolstoy and 
 
 Modern 
 
 Education 
 
 Value of 
 Answer 
 to Women 
 
 For a new, though small, company of writers, painters, and 
 dramatists, has joined the humanitarian army, bringing as 
 their special qualifications sincerity, simplicity, and brevity. 
 The new social message, clothed in beauty, is reaching over 
 all the world; and art, however slowly, is at once helping 
 the people to social justice and taking its place as an ex- 
 pression of the people's life. The impulse of the move- 
 ment goes back in some measure to Tolstoy's book What 
 Is Art?, which is simply an enlargement of the answer set 
 forth in What Is To Be Done? 
 
 Tolstoy believed that the object of all intellectual pur- 
 suits should be the same : to carry the message of the 
 brotherhood of man and to teach men how to live better. 
 He found himself at outs with modern methods of educa- 
 tion. He truly claimed that the young are compulsorily 
 educated to many untruths, and that false ideals and 
 standards are set up as idols. Fearing that those who 
 spend so many years in preparation might not use their 
 training for the good of humanity, he even went so far 
 as to question the value of higher education at all. It is 
 not necessary to argue the answer. The world long ago 
 made up its mind that education is worth while for the 
 many, even if a few misuse the fruits thereof. The only 
 way to cure the great social evil of ignorance is by com- 
 pulsory education. Just as in the case of the political 
 system, and in the production and distribution of wealth, 
 the remedy for educational evils is in further organization 
 rather than in destruction of the educational machine. If 
 the schools and universities are now hindrances to social 
 betterment, carry the doctrines of social justice into them. 
 There is no better place to fight false ideals of wealth, of 
 pleasure, and of selfishness. 
 
 Tolstoy's answer to women is exactly that of the 
 majority of social reformers : that a woman need only not 
 evade childbearing in order to fulfill life's purpose. Bear- 
 ing, nursing and bringing up children form her first and 
 great duty to society. The limitation of births through the
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 113 
 
 continence of married people, and the prevention of mar- 
 riage of unfit men and women, when these things are 
 founded on a sense of duty to the coming generation, are 
 points on which Tolstoy is strangely silent — since he studied 
 so deeply the whole of the sex question. They are points 
 which will increasingly engage the attention of students of 
 human destiny. The theory has even been advanced that 
 duty to the unborn generations will form the basis of the 
 new morality — to take the place of that crumbling basis of 
 fear of punishment after death and hope of reward in 
 heaven. But Tolstoy's voice, as it is heard in What Is To 
 Be Done f, will remain one of the many which simply praise 
 the fruitful mother who shuns the vanities of society life 
 and the call of "woman's rights.'' His answer is of small 
 value to the world as a whole, as obviously it Avas aimed 
 at the women of his own leisure-loving class. That he com- 
 pleteh' changed his views on the sex question within a few 
 years after writing the book*^ also lessens what weight 
 the argument might have. 
 
 Prostitution is a crime of man as much as of woman, vaiue of 
 but the discussion of Tolstoy's answer to women is a con- Remedy for 
 venient peg on which to hang the consideration of the value 
 of his remedy for that evil. The first value of his treatment 
 of the problem is in his attitude of pity rather than scorn, 
 and in his frankness. He was the first author of inter- 
 national importance to attack the evil openly, and he 
 brought to the world the realization that ignorance of the 
 evil is not a virtue. He caught all of society in the net 
 of guilt. 
 
 Truly we are all of us in a conspiracy to spread pros- 
 titution.*^ In the first place we teach the young, girls 
 and boys, to seek riches above all else, and that life without 
 
 *8 For Tolstoy's later ideal of absolute chastity, cf. the epilogue 
 to The Kreutser Sonata, translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, Estes, 
 1904), and "The Sex Question," in Maude, Tlie Life of Tolstoy, 
 ii, 380-414. 
 
 40 Cf. Jane Addams, A Neiv Conscience and an Ancient Evil 
 (New York, Macmillan, 1912).
 
 114 U^iiversity of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 work is the happiest state; then we arrange our economic 
 system so that thousands of girls w^ork in factories and 
 stores for pitiful wages at just that period of life when 
 they should have rest; we allow them to work to such ex- 
 haustion that chastity can mean little to them, when 
 weighed against the allurements of immorality; in those 
 years when they most crave social companionship and 
 recreation, we offer them no substitute for the attentions 
 of the "cadet." The guilt comes back to us — to the great 
 mass of men and women who are content with social con- 
 ditions because the economic shoe does not happen to pinch 
 us. The increase in prostitution is not due to lustfulness 
 in the hearts of girls, but to the child-labor, the long hours, 
 and the insufficient wage, which we permit. Chastity gives 
 way under economic pressure. The remedy for prostitu- 
 tion is not in ignoring or arresting the prostitute, but, as 
 Tolstoy first taught, in the revolution of economic condi- 
 tions. Besides those changes already outlined, the forces 
 that will cut off the supply for prostitution (if we care 
 enough and help enough) are these: the abolishment of 
 child-labor — there is no more pathetic sight in the world 
 today than the army of pinched child-laborers beside the 
 tattered army of adult unemployed ; the securing of a fair 
 wage and shorter hours for women who must work outside 
 the home; the extension of playground and park sj^stems; 
 the establishment of social centers and settlements ; and 
 the socializing of religious institutions. These thing's, com- 
 ing in that triple reconstruction of political, religious and 
 economic life, will reduce prostitution to a negligible evil; 
 but as Tolstoy charges, any of use who refuse to take part 
 in the social movement are members of a conspiracy to 
 create that evil; nor has anyone with ej-es the excuse of 
 ignorance. 
 
 Before summarizing the value of Tolstoy's remedy, it 
 is well to show how the fallacies of his teaching prevented 
 him from carrying out his own precepts; how. indeed, he
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 115 
 
 was able to make some of his teachings effective only in 
 so far as he departed from others. 
 
 In the first place he failed to leave his direct impress xoistoy's 
 on political life in Russia, or to change the cruel autocracy ^^.'^^re 
 that oppresses the country. The secret of his failure is Reformer 
 that he withdrew from any movement as soon as it became 
 political or organized in any way. He could see no remedy 
 but immediate abolishment of government, and even a move- 
 ment with that drastic end in view became distasteful if 
 it involved organized effort. 
 
 Similarly he failed to bring lasting help for economic 
 wroDgs in Russia. A man of Tolstoy's wonderful force, 
 backed by an organized movement, could have revolution- 
 ized the industrial system. But instead Tolstoy could see 
 relief only in the destruction of all sj'^stems, and he pre- 
 ferred to remain independent and uncompromising in his 
 single-handed battle. 
 
 In the spread of his religious beliefs Tolstoy was ef- 
 fective only to the extent to which he departed from his 
 own teachings. His desire to convert others and his force- 
 ful, assertive nature were in direct contrast to his desire 
 to be humble and peaceable to all. The conflict between 
 the two desires not only brought struggle to his own soul, 
 but it drew him apart from his family time and again. 
 The attitude of his wife is largely that of the world. One 
 day after she had posted a letter to him in which she ex- 
 pressed her sorrow and vexation at his new way of life, 
 she wrote a second letter containing this passage: "All at 
 once I pictured you vividly to myself, and a sudden flood 
 of tenderness rose in me. There is something in you so 
 wise, kind, naive, and obstinate, and it is all lit up by 
 that tender interest for everyone, natural to you alone, and 
 by your look that reaches straight to people's souls. "^° 
 In that is the expression of the feeling not only of the 
 Countess but of every one of the students of Tolstoy's 
 work — reverence and even personal love for the man. 
 
 50 In Maude, The Life of Tolstoy, ii, 197.
 
 116 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 mingled with impatience at the obstinacy and childlike 
 simplicity of his views. 
 
 Writing to her sister in the period between the census 
 investigation and the composing of What Is To Be Done? 
 the Countess said of Tolstoy : ' ' Lyovochka is very tranquil, 
 and at work writing some article or other. Remarks against 
 town life, and the life of the well-to-do in general, burst 
 from him occasionally. That pains me but I know he can- 
 not help it. He is a leader: one who goes ahead of the 
 crowd, pointing the way men should go. But I am the 
 crowd; I live in its current. Together with the crowd I 
 see the light of the lamp which every leader (and Lyov- 
 ochka, of course, also) carries, and I acknowledge it to 
 be the light. But I cannot go faster, I am held by the 
 crowd, and by my surroundings and habits. "^^ 
 
 Tolstoy's own wife has put the case for us, for the 
 crowd, who are not martyrs, who may see the light but 
 who cannot go so fast. And there is the pathetic failure 
 of Tolstoy's life as a practical guide — he keeps so far 
 ahead of the crowd. He wants the world to revolutionize 
 immediately, and he makes an example of himself, think- 
 ing that the world "wdll follow. But that is not the way 
 of humanity ; social progress is evolutionary and slow. 
 
 Summary of With that fundamental fallacy in mind let us sum- 
 
 marize the value of Tolstoy's remedy for humanity's evils, 
 as expressed in What Is To Be Done? His answer as it 
 concerns government and political reconstruction is worth- 
 less, except that the doctrine of non-resistance to criminals 
 has influenced prisons to adopt the "golden rule" system, 
 and has led humanitarians to put less effort on the punish- 
 ment of crime and more on the providing of good influences. 
 His answer as it concerns man's religion and ethics is of 
 the utmost value to the religious phase of social reconstruc- 
 tion; indeed Tolstoy may be considered the great modern 
 prophet of the new Christianity. Plis answer as it concerns 
 
 Value of 
 Remedy 
 
 51 In Maude, The Life of Tolstoy, ii, 175. 
 
 I
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoifs "What Is To Be Done?" 117 
 
 man's material life has doubtless influenced economic re- 
 construction, but there are fallacies in his precepts which 
 require large modifications to make them fit the problems 
 of present-d&y complex life. His answer as it concerns 
 art and culture is sound at the core and he perhaps has 
 done more than any other writer to bring art to the ser- 
 vice of the social movement. Lastly, his answer to women 
 is of passive value as one of many voices calling women 
 to their first duty — but an answer that does not attempt 
 to solve the deeper phases of the sex problem. 
 
 Such is the value of Tolstoy's remedy to the present 
 rebuilding of the social structure. Like all great men Tol- 
 stoy had great faults, and they are nowhere more noticeable 
 than in his answer to the question, "What is to be done?" 
 But there is so much of truth there, that the student who 
 refers the teachings to his reason and conscience, as Tolstoy 
 would desire, finds the book a mine which produces much 
 pure gold.
 
 118 
 
 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 The 
 
 Problem 
 
 Universal 
 
 Effort for 
 Social Justice 
 
 If it be objected at this late time that Tolstoy was at- 
 tempting to remedy conditions in Russia and that his work 
 can have nothing to do with problems in the United States, 
 the writer can only lay down his pen and plead that he 
 has entirely missed his mark. But if he has made clear 
 what every social worker must feel, he has carried the 
 truth that the fundamental problem of misery is the same 
 in Moscow^ or London, or Paris, or New York. Conditions 
 may differ, but the roots of poverty and disease and crime 
 are the same in all lands. It should be clear now that 
 Tolstoy went to the very bottom of human life and treated 
 the very foundations on which social justice and injustice 
 are built. Here in the United States we have no peasant 
 class, but we have a class of industrial workers that occu- 
 pies exactly the same place in the social scale. We have 
 the same rich class that so disgusted Tolstoy in Russia; 
 and if it must be added that the class is less idle as a 
 whole in America, it must also be added that it is more 
 predatory. Until recently, as in Russia, almost all our 
 charities have been "only a fad or a sop to fear." 
 
 But now, after Tolstoy, and after his lesser comrades 
 in the first battle, there is a well-defined union of forces 
 working for social justice, an unmistakable effort to rebuild 
 the social structure from the ground up. All the alleviative 
 and constructive movements are as j^et only symptomatic 
 of the universal and combined movement that is gradually 
 taking shape. The air is not yet cleared of confused cries 
 and alarms. But the rebuilding is coming — clearly, in- 
 evitably coming. Call it socialism, or humanitarianism, or
 
 1912] Che7icu: Tolstorj's"What Is To Be Done?" 119 
 
 what yon will, humanity is destined to a change, which 
 if rightly directed means absolute social justice. It is 
 coming through that spirit of universal sympathy which 
 is sweeping all lands. No live, thinking mind can read a 
 book like What Is To Be Donef without being infected with 
 this spirit, which is the soul of the social movement, with- 
 out seeing the existing injustice and feeling the inspiration 
 to work for a cure. Happily it is an infection that is fast 
 spreading throughout the world. Day by day the convic- 
 tion is gaining weight that there is a common social destiny 
 for all men, and that cooperation must take the place of 
 ruinous competition ; and beyond that there is a growing 
 sense that the sanctity of human life is greater than the 
 sanctity of wealth — that wealth is a means and life the end. 
 
 In the United States, at least, the danger of a class 
 struggle is past; fortunately, since the collapse of a 
 nation is usually near when politics becomes a class 
 struggle. The movement is now in the hands of a humani- 
 tarian army which includes far more than the laboring 
 class. Doubtless there will be more labor strikes, but 
 neither labor nor capital will settle the matter by itself. A 
 greater force will remove the causes of contention. The 
 change will come not through individual change, as Tolstoy 
 hoped, nor by class struggle, as he feared; but by educa- 
 tion and the peaceable legislation of the people when they 
 have gained complete self-government. In the United 
 States it will come not through the socialist party but 
 through the old parties which are so inevitably taking up 
 socialistic platforms. 
 
 The waiter has picked flaws in parts of Tolstoy's 
 remedy. Lest he be accused of simply judging the work 
 by set standards of his own, of repudiating just those doc- 
 trines which do not square with his own prejudices, he 
 submits without excuse his position. In the first place he 
 followed Tolstoy's own injunction to readers, by referring 
 every teaching to his own reason and conscience. He must 
 confess that before reading V\liat Is To Be Done? he had
 
 120 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 no deep interest in the social movement — being one of that 
 great mass of apathetic people who are content with things 
 as they are. So, with no set social outlook, he made an 
 attempt to get a birdseye view, in true perspective of all 
 the social forces concerned in the present rebuilding. This 
 he has made the second test of Tolstoy's teachings. In out- 
 lining these forces the writer does not at all presume to 
 put forward a social program, but merely a survey. These, 
 then, are the forces which he believes are accomplishing 
 the great change : 
 A First there will be such change in land ownership that 
 
 Social every family will be able to have a home ; land monopoly 
 
 SurvGy 
 
 and land speculation will be destroyed, and idle land will 
 be driven into use; the tool which will be used to accom- 
 plish this will be tax legislation — probably a modification 
 of Henry George 's plan. There will be ultimate municipal, 
 state and government ownership of all public utilities. 
 There will be government regulation of factory and other 
 production : on the one hand the regulation of hours, wages, 
 liability or insurance, and old-age pensions ; on the other 
 regulation of income; thus capital (or machinery) in pri- 
 vate hands can be so regulated that it will be used for 
 the welfare of all, and the stifling of production will be 
 destroyed. The great fortunes will be gradually broken 
 up through income and sliding inheritance taxes. With 
 these economic changes there must be an increasing power 
 of government in the hands of all the people. The ten- 
 dency toward this attainment of pure democrac}^ is most 
 plainly seen in the recent widespread adoption of the initi- 
 ative, referendum and recall. In order that economic and 
 political justice may be lasting, there must also be that 
 individual religious regeneration, which Tolstoy so insisted 
 upon. The duty of man to man must be the basis of 
 morality. The building up of moral fiber will continue 
 especially through the regenerated churches, the drama, 
 literature, and social and civic centers. Through this triple 
 reconstruction, economic, political and religious, the evolu-
 
 1912] Cheney: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 121 
 
 tion is working and will work for some decades. But 
 the movement is started and is advancing to the ideal faster 
 than a reformer of fifty years ago could have dared to 
 hope — to that time when no workman will be so crushed 
 by the struggle for bread that he cannot enjoy the higher 
 pleasures, and when no girl will be so driven by work 
 and want that she loses her moral perspective. Truly the 
 world is drawing away from ignorance and poverty and 
 crime and disease, to enlightenment and health and all 
 that is wholesome and beautiful. 
 
 "We have seen in the past chapters of what value the „ 
 
 '■ ^ Nummary 
 
 various parts of Tolstoy's book are to the movement toward of Vaiue 
 this ideal — what the picture, what the diagnosis, and what ""^ ^^^ ^°°'^ 
 the various teachings of the remedy. Then let us see 
 what is the total value of the book. In the first place it 
 served to raze the old structure and prepared the way for 
 the new. It awakened the world to social injustice, and it 
 cast a light into the "dreadful dark." Above all it struck 
 an inspirational chord which still vibrates throughout the 
 world, and which finds an echo in every reader. There are 
 serious flaws in the economic and political aspects of the 
 constructive remedy which it outlines, but the religious 
 teaching is sound through and through. If it fails occa- 
 sionally as a guide, at least as an inspiration it is beyond 
 compare. Certainly What Is To Be Done? more than any 
 other modern book, has given that spirit and impulse which 
 is the soul of the social movemeni. 
 
 At no time in the history of the world has there been 
 so great an unrest among the nations, socially, religiously, 
 politically. Humanity is facing a great upheaval, is 
 already feeling the trembling. In the midst of the con- 
 fusion, of struggles, of seekings for the safety of this atom 
 or that, stands the huge figure of Tolstoy, pointing the 
 Avay to safety for the whole, colossal in his destruction of 
 old ideals, and magnificent in his sincerity and passion for 
 the new — mighty, too, in his human faults. But his mis-
 
 122 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 takes are in the superstructure, and the foundation he 
 builds is on solid rock. He faced a world entrenched in 
 apathy and deceit, but he kindled the fire which spread 
 throughout the world and destroyed the false temples of the 
 existing social order. He even went further and utilized the 
 heat to begin the building of the new. Will there be build- 
 ers worthy to follow him? The writer believes there will; 
 and if so, the writing of What Is To Be Done? will not 
 have been in vain. 
 
 i 
 
 I
 
 THE VALUE OF THE IDEAL OF SOCIAL RECON- 
 STRUCTION SET FORTH IN TOLSTOY'S 
 WHAT SHALL WE DO THENf 
 
 STITH THOMPSON, 
 A.B. (University of Wisconsin), 1909; M.A., 1912
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. THE NEED TOR SOCIAL RECONSTRUCTION 
 
 What Shall We Do Then? must be considered as a serious 
 proposal for social reconstruction. — Before approaching the study 
 of the book, it must be determined how far there is need for social 
 reconstruction. — Tolstoy's findings must be checked by conditions 
 in other countries than Russia and discounted by changes for the 
 better through political and conservative social reform. — Tolstoy's 
 indictment of social conditions. — Among the city poor. — Among the 
 country poor. — Among the wealthy. — Causes of misery. — Money. — 
 Selfishness. — Separation of rich from poor. — Enslaving of country 
 people by rich city people. — Exorbitant taxes. — Examination of 
 these causes. — Summary of real causes of misery that remain. — 
 Comparison of American conditions with Russian, showing the 
 effect of political and conservative social reform. — Summary of chap- 
 ter. Page 126 
 CHAPTER II. THE BASES OF A SOCIAL SYSTEM 
 
 The necessity that an efficient social system embrace all 
 phases of human life and minister to all human needs. — The nature 
 of these needs, desires, and qualities of men. — The physical neces- 
 sities. — Health. — Perpetuation of the race. — Economy and efficiency. 
 — Justice. — Security of life and property. — Ambition. — Dislike and 
 inconvenience of change. — Comfort. — Amusement. — Intellectual and 
 aesthetic activity. — The desire for truth. — Religion. Page 137 
 
 CHAPTER in. THE VALUE OF TOLSTOY'S SOCIAL IDEAL 
 Impracticability of attainment. — System must, nevertheless, be 
 considered. — Tolstoy's plan. — No government. — No property or 
 money. — No division of labor without unanimous consent. — No 
 science, art or education, as at present conceived. — The morals and 
 philosophy of his system. — Application of his system to the tests 
 suggested in Chapter II. — Physical necessities. — Health. — Perpetua- 
 
 [124]
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoij's " What Shall We Do Then?" 125 
 
 tion of the race. — Economy and efficiency. — Justice. — Security of 
 life and property. — Ambition. — Dislike and inconvenience of change. — 
 Comfort. — Amusement. — Intellectual and aesthetic activity. — Desire 
 for truth. — Religion. — Summary of results. — Comparison vrith other 
 systems. — Present American conditions. — Socialism. — Conservative 
 social reform. — Result of comparison. Page 142 
 
 CHAPTER IV. TOLSTOY'S FUNDAMENTAL ERRORS 
 
 His system founded on three premises. — Examination of these. — 
 His argument against government. — Not sacred. — Not useful. — 
 Wicked. — Discussion of these points. — Majority rule. — Convenience 
 and economy of government. — The army and police. — Summary of 
 refutation. — Argument against ownership of property. — Not an 
 issue between common, or government ownership, and private owner- 
 ship — for non-ownership as a principle. — Practical difficulties of 
 a life without government or property. — Non-ownership as a prin- 
 ciple examined. — The abstract question. — The moral aspect. — 
 Money. — Argument against division of labor without unanimous 
 consent. — Economy, he contends, not the end. — Division right only 
 when special service is really needed. — This point granted, but 
 different interpretation put on need for service. — Present division 
 really regulated by demand. — Majority rule insisted upon. — 
 Economy of division of labor absolutely necessary. — Tolstoy's 
 special attack on science and art as a division of labor. — Tolstoy's 
 test of the service of scientists and artists. — Work must be under- 
 stood and wanted by people at large. — Great scientists were the 
 Christs and Buddhas. — These arguments examined. — These men 
 neither wanted nor rightly understood. — Science must remain unin- 
 telligible to the layman if advance is made. — Does not effect results. — 
 Experimental and inductive science defended. — Science a real bene- 
 factor. — Science spreads truth. — Tolstoy's argument applied to art 
 and literature. — Real service of art and literature. Page 156 
 
 CHAPTER V. THE RE.AL VALUE OF TOLSTOY'S ESSAY 
 
 System of social reconstruction inefficient. — Real value lies 
 
 in suggestive power of essay. — A plea for the man who toils. — 
 
 A challenge to old and established institutions. — A demand that 
 
 things be tested by their real worth. Page 173
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE NEED FOR SOCIAL RECONSTRUCTION 
 
 Although the chief value of Tolstoy's vivid and revolu- 
 tionary essay, What Shall We Do Then ?^ is, without doubt, 
 its moral and ethical appeal, it must be judged quite as 
 much by the standard its author proposes for it. This is 
 as a serious ideal of social reconstruction. "We see in the 
 essay the final form into which Tolstoy's social theories 
 were thrown after years of meditation and change. Except 
 in a few minor points, the position stated in this essay was 
 the one held by the author for the last twenty-five years of 
 his life. A careful examination of the ideal of social recon- 
 struction set forth by a man who influenced his generation 
 so profoundly cannot but be of profit. Such a study will 
 doubtless result in new points of view, if not in a complete 
 change of settled opinions about conditions and policies. 
 
 In the examination of any social ideal, several prelimin- 
 ary considerations must enter. The slow changes that have 
 taken place in the past must act as a warning to those who 
 hope by legislation to make a new world with ideally happy 
 men and women. These slow changes are painful and are 
 often accomplished at the greatest personal sacrifice to the 
 martyrs of the cause. It is absolutely necessary, therefore, 
 before the adoption of any social ideal, to examine whether 
 the undesirable conditions that exist at present are inher- 
 
 1 Tolstoy, What Is To Be Done?, translated by Isabel Hapgood. 
 (New York, Crowell, 1899) ; cf. What Shall We Do Then? translated 
 by Loo Wiener (Boston, Dana Estes, 1904). References are made 
 uniformly to these two translations. 
 
 [126]
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Thenf" 127 
 
 ent in the present social system, or whether there seems to 
 be reason to believe that great improvements have been 
 made in the past in these respects, and to hope from very 
 certain indications that they will be ameliorated and very 
 nearly, if not quite, done away with ultimately under the 
 present system. If this latter conclusion be reached, the 
 plea for a changed social ideal, involving, as that of Tol- 
 stoy does, revolution with all its wastes and experiment 
 with its uncertainty, becomes very much weakened if not 
 entirely invalidated. 
 
 Tolstoy's ideal will be approached in this way and an 
 attempt will be made to determine how far a new ideal is 
 now desirable. Afterward, some consideration will be given 
 to those elements in human nature with which the social re- 
 former must reckon in the construction of his ideal state. 
 Tolstoy 's ideal will then be tested by the conclusions reached 
 and later the three fundamental principles on which the 
 system is based will be examined. Lastly some observations 
 will be made on the message of the essay aside from its 
 social ideal. 
 
 In the approach to Tolstoy's essay attention must be 
 directed to the miserable social conditions that he depicts, 
 and then by comparing these with the conditions found under 
 the same social and economic system of Capitalism but 
 under a different political system, as in the United States, 
 conclusions can be drawn as to how far political reform, 
 doing away with monarchy and aristocracy, with the en- 
 lightenment for the laborer resulting from these changes, 
 tends to eliminate the wrongs that Tolstoy sees in Russia. 
 Only the evils that still exist in a country where political 
 reform has taken place, in a country like the United States 
 or England, can be of weight in the proposal or considera- 
 tion of a revolutionary social programme. 
 
 There is no doubt that the pictures of extreme poverty 
 in Moscow which Tolstoy draws for us- are true to the 
 minutest detail. Twenty thousand persons, he shows, go 
 
 2 What Is To Be Done?, chapters i-xi.
 
 128 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 hungry there every day. Over one hundred thousand are 
 living in the greatest poverty. The filth and squalor of the 
 free and cheap lodging houses is almost indescribable. Such 
 a condition must act as a great ulcer on the body of the 
 civilization that suffers it to exist. Tolstoy's many efforts 
 to administer efficient charity to these miserable people gave 
 him a good opportunity to observe them. His conclusion 
 was that temporary charity, except in the fewest of in- 
 stances, was of doubtful good. Nearly all of the poor were 
 making a strong, though discouraging and often miserable, 
 fight for existence. They helped one another in great 
 crises. Three classes alone formed a center that needed 
 the help of charity : children, who might be given a helping 
 hand and taken to something better ; prostitutes, who might 
 conceivably be rescued from their wretched life; and men 
 who had formerly had good positions and had lost them. 
 These wanted aid to get on their feet again. In trying 
 to help all of these people he was unsuccessful. The chil- 
 dren became thieves, the prostitutes did not want to be 
 reformed, and the men who were given a helping hand fell 
 again and again. 
 
 But the largest part of the poor in the city are beyond 
 the help of temporary charity. Nothing short of a great 
 social reformation can touch them. They are managing to 
 keep just above the starvation limit by working at full 
 capacity. The great factories of the citj-- start their Avheels 
 at five in the morning and cease only at eight at night. The 
 life of these people is that of the most galling slavery, llie 
 whip being held this time by no less grim a driver than 
 starvation. This is the condition of all the factory hands 
 in Moscow — the people who do practically all the productive 
 labor. 
 
 These conditions were greatly aggravated after the free- 
 ing of the serfs and the consequent crowding into the cities. 
 So strong is the temptation to come to the city for various 
 reasons, good and bad, that every few days the starving 
 countrymen who find no work in the overcrowded town are
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 129 
 
 herded together by the police and sent back to the country. 
 Many of the men in distress whom Tolstoy saw at Liapin's 
 house^ were waiting for this police round-up as for a 
 blessed deliverance. 
 
 But what were the country homes to which these people 
 were looking forward? This is the darkest part of Tol- 
 stoy's picture. Out in the open country, where we think 
 of people as being free and of every man as able to make 
 a good living, we find people, strong young men, feeble old 
 men, women, many of them sick and with child, and little 
 children, working late and early — rising long before the light 
 of day and working far into the night, to grow the crop and 
 to save it. Thousands of these people every year die from 
 overwork. Not a smaller number die yearly from starva- 
 tion in the country. After all this slaving work not enough 
 can be saved for their own needs to support bare existence. 
 Judging from other sources, we must say that Tolstoy is 
 decidedly conservative in his description of the distress in 
 the country. 
 
 To these conditions a striking contrast is found in the 
 lives of the extremely wealthy. Tolstoy paints with a pow- 
 erful brush the excesses to which the luxury of the rich 
 can go. Fine ladies giving balls in gowns worth more 
 than one hundred times the labor they could do, hiring 
 large numbers of servants, each of them in his turn using 
 up productions of another's labor, are but typical of the 
 luxury of the rich. Country homes, private hunting pre- 
 serves, servants in the country and the city, all come from 
 the labor of the peasant. 
 
 And what do the rich give in return for all this support 
 by the starving poor? The great majority, Tolstoy shows, 
 do absolutely nothing. Some of them serve the govern- 
 ment, which the peasant does not want. A few men of 
 leisure, though not of wealth, also spend their time in scien- 
 tific research, trying by various methods to justify the 
 present pernicious conditions. 
 
 3 What Is To Be Done?, p. 10 (tr. Wiener, p. 11).
 
 130 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 The causes of these wrongs still exist and, according to 
 Tolstoy, will continue to produce and to aggravate these 
 conditions. We shall have to examine these causes and see 
 whether they are correctly determined and whether they 
 are an inherent part of our present system. 
 
 The existence of money, Tolstoy says, is the whole cause 
 of the modern slavery. He gives a very interesting account 
 of the evolution of money. It came into being solely as a 
 convenient means of enslaving. Personal slavery and even 
 serfdom caused difficulties for the primitive conqueror and 
 consequently some other means of enslaving had to be in- 
 vented. Money, which was easy to carry, and which rep- 
 resented the result of labor without troubling the primitive 
 conqueror to see that the labor was done, was finally adopted 
 as the most convenient form of paying tribute. The de- 
 fense for money that it is a standard of value and a medium 
 of exchange is merely the invention of economists made 
 for the purpose of justifying its existence. As a matter 
 of fact, the value is always what the lord chooses to put 
 on it. Hence even today money is a means of enslaving. 
 It is handed down from lord to lord and vsdth this thing 
 in their hands these lords can make other men labor for 
 them and can take food from other men. It is a slavery 
 worse than serfdom, for now no guarantee is made to the 
 man we compel to work for us that he will be allowed to 
 live. He may be deprived of work and be left to starve. 
 
 The cause of these conditions coming about in the first 
 place was a moral one, which Tolstoy insists must be re- 
 moved. It is the desire to be worked for and not to work. 
 It is this that makes for all the injustice that the rich put 
 on the poor. 
 
 As a result of this, the rich have withdrawn themselves 
 into cities where they may be well removed from the poor 
 who do their work. Here they may find conditions exactly 
 suited to their desires. Luxuries may be had for the asking. 
 Companions in this dissipation are easy to find, and servants 
 are numerous. The further separation from the poor is
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 131 
 
 accomplished in three ways, which are therefore to be con- 
 demned. The first of these is cleanliness, which makes us 
 keep away from the dirty poor; the second is education, 
 which is obtained merely that we may continue in idleness, 
 and which to many is synonymous with cleanliness. Last of 
 these differences is an aloofness in food and dress. 
 
 The rich city people have enslaved the country peasant. 
 Every year the things the peasant needs for himself are 
 taken away and carried to the city by those who enslave 
 him through the possession of money. He goes to town 
 to try to get some of it back from those who have taken 
 it from him. Hence we have thousands of these poor, de- 
 termined, by fair means or foul, to get a living from the 
 rich. It is these unfortunates who fill the cheap lodging 
 houses, or, failing that, at most become the retainers of the 
 rich, serving them and imbibing from a distance their ideals 
 of idleness and luxury. 
 
 The last of these causes of the misery of the common 
 people, which, Tolstoy shows, spring directly from the 
 use of money, are exorbitant rents, to keep up the nobility ; 
 conscription, to keep up a disaffected army; and excessive 
 taxes, to support a luxurious court and aristocracy. 
 
 Such is Tolstoy's statement of the conditions in Russia, 
 and his theory of the causes of this distress. This theory 
 it will be well to examine, to the end that we may see which 
 are real causes and which are peculiarly Russian. Those 
 that w^e find real must be the concern of him who plans an 
 ideal society. 
 
 The history given by Tolstoy of the development of 
 money is exceedingly interesting, but this development was 
 surely nothing more than an incidental feature of the use 
 of money. We shall see later* that, in spite of what he 
 says, money is a real good and an actual necessity, and 
 that the troubles of man have come from the abuse of 
 monev rather than from its use. 
 
 •* Chapter iv of this essay.
 
 132 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 The second of the causes of injustice mentioned by 
 Tolstoy is a moral fault. From the beginning of time man 
 has been a selfish animal and in many ways this selfishness 
 has not been a bad thing. Indeed some go so far as to say 
 that all our acts, good and bad, are actuated by no other 
 principle than selfishness. One of the first and most marked 
 manifestations of this instinct is the failing which Tolstoy 
 deplores and which he says is the most destructive thing 
 in our present manner of living. It is the desire to work 
 less and to be worked for more. The whole plan for social 
 reform made in What Sliall We Do Tlienf is based on the 
 assumption that we shall be able to overcome this tendency, 
 and consequently no provision is made to reckon with it. 
 In an efficient social system such a failing must be recog- 
 nized and dealt with. It must always continue as an active 
 cause of trouble. Stronger methods than those of exhor- 
 tation are necessary. 
 
 In his arraignment of the rich for separating themselves 
 from the poor, Tolstoy is not quite just. Many of them, 
 it is true, live in the city where there is opportunity for 
 social intercourse with their own class, and for many other 
 amusements. For luxury and idleness, certainly, there is 
 no defense. But it must be remembered that there is good 
 reason for many people of wealth to live in the city. The 
 work of such men lies nearly always in large centers of 
 industry where great capital is necessary. In the case of 
 officials, their center of activity is generally in the city 
 and they usually congregate there for other motives than 
 those purely of pleasure. But much of Tolstoy's point 
 here may well be granted, and in so far as the motive for 
 flocking to the cities is due to a desire to escape responsi- 
 bility for their actions and to receive commendation for 
 that idleness and luxury for which they should be con- 
 demned, no word of defense can be made. 
 
 The other "means of separation" mentioned by him 
 are not so culpable. By cleanliness the rich remove them- 
 selves from the poor, says he, regarding as a great virtue
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Then?" 133 
 
 what in reality is a great shame. He seems to think that 
 cleanliness has only this use. He forgets that it is abso- 
 lutely necessary if we are to prevent sickness and if our 
 lives are to have wholesome surroundings. Indeed this is 
 a virtue that is rightly placed next to godliness. Instead 
 of condemning cleanliness in the rich, we must strive by 
 every means to inculcate this virtue in the poor, so that 
 they will desire to get away from the squalor of the tene- 
 ment and go to the country and the suburbs where they 
 can have clean and healthful homes. Surely that which 
 keeps away sickness, that which distinguishes care from 
 slovenliness, cannot be classed as one of the greatest of 
 vices! 
 
 Education, for Tolstoy, is largely synonymous with 
 cleanliness plus a little French or mathematics. This is 
 obtained with the sole purpose of leading and justifying a 
 life of idleness. Fortunately, this conception is wrong. 
 As a matter of fact, it is generally a lack of education that 
 aggravates the differences between the classes. Here, too, 
 the rich must not stop their education, but the poor must 
 come toward the rich and get more and more of this, the 
 greatest of all destroyers of the barriers between the classes. 
 Of the removal by food and dress more can be granted. 
 Long dinners, served in many courses to people in expensive 
 clothes, must be looked on as a luxury the poor cannot, and 
 never can afford. But there is room for refinement and 
 taste both in the manner of eating and in the kind of 
 clothes worn. Tolstoy seems to look upon the eating from 
 a common bowl and the wearing of a dirty shirt as things 
 most of all to be desired. Would it not be better, as seems 
 to be the case in America, for the poor to emulate the rich 
 sufficiently to practice most of the amenities that make life 
 other than that of the brute? Is it not a healthy state of 
 society when nine-tenths of the people are dressed with 
 neatness and taste? 
 
 These methods of removing themselves from the poor 
 practiced by the rich are, as a rule, we see, commendable
 
 134 University of California Prize Essays [Yoh. i 
 
 in themselves. The effort should be made to draw the poor 
 up toward the rich, not to pull the rich dow^n to the level 
 the poor now occup3^ 
 
 A very large part of Tolstoy's essay is based on the 
 assumption that the country people are held in slavery by 
 the townspeople who consume the substance of the country 
 in riotous living. This argument is faulty in several re- 
 spects. Under the rule of exorbitant taxes and rents it 
 is conceivable that this might be almost literally true, but 
 we are considering the matter exclusively from a social 
 point of view. In the United States it cannot be said that 
 the farmer's substance is taken from him by the wealthy 
 in the city. For every commodity brought in, an equal 
 amount, either of money or of manufactured goods, is taken 
 out to the countr}'. No exchange where full value is re- 
 ceived can be said to be commercial slavery. The existence 
 of cities as such cannot, then, be said to be a menace. What 
 the city takes, it repays, by manufacturing, by affording a 
 market, by collecting goods from all over the earth, and 
 by many other services. It is safe to say that if there were 
 no real need for the city it would not have grown up in 
 our new western civilization. 
 
 That our cities are crowded with the poor who ape the 
 rich is too largely true, though a marked back-to-the-land 
 movement seems to be of some influence in America. 
 
 The exorbitant taxes and rents and the army conscrip- 
 tion that Tolstoy mentions have been done away with almost 
 entirely in America. Their remedying must be a matter 
 of political rather than of social reform. 
 
 After an examination of the reasons Tolstoy gives for 
 the present conditions, we have reduced them to the fol- 
 lowing: (1) The existence of money which has not been 
 earned by the possessor, either because of inheritance, for- 
 tuitous investment, fraud, or oppression. The existence of 
 money other than this is good rather than bad. (2) The 
 separation of the rich from the poor because of the desire 
 to work little and be worked for much. (3) The separation
 
 1912] ThompsoH: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Then?" 135 
 
 by means of luxuries and servants. (4) Too great a move- 
 ment toward the city by the poor who ape the rich. 
 
 All of these causes are at work in our American civil- 
 ization and therefore cannot be regarded as a result of 
 political tyranny. Let us examine their influence on Amer- 
 ican civilization and see which of the conditions portrayed 
 as resulting from them are purely social in their character. 
 
 The condition of the poor in America is undoubtedly 
 much better than that of the poor in Russia. We have 
 practically no real poverty in the country districts. The 
 poorest of the negro farmers in the south have little trouble 
 in making a living. Consequently we have practically no 
 deaths from overwork in the country. In cases of extreme 
 hard work, we shall generally find that there is some other 
 purpose in view than to stay off starvation. Two political 
 causes have brought about this condition: low rents and 
 reasonable taxes. Instead of ninety per cent of the people 
 living in great need and danger of starvation, we find the 
 whole rural population in comparatively safe circumstances. 
 
 Our social system, however, has much to answer for. 
 Our cities are far from what we could desire. One has 
 but to read Mr. Jacob Riis 's How the Other Half Lives'^ to 
 see the distressing conditions in the tenements of New York. 
 Sights can be seen in this port of entry for the "scum of 
 the earth, ' ' as we call them, that rend the heart of the most 
 unsjnnpathetic. The unsanitary tenements often cause a 
 death rate of 100 per 1000. In every way the story told 
 by Tolstoy of Moscow seems to be doubly true in New York. 
 Miss Jane Addams® tells us that the same state of affairs 
 prevails in Chicago, and it is entirely probable that there 
 is not a city of any size that does not have a tenement dis- 
 trict, or at least a poor quarter that is a disgrace to our 
 civilization. It is needless to go into details as to condi- 
 tions in our great cities, except to say that it is difficult to 
 conceive of anything worse than what is to be seen among 
 
 5 New York, Macmillan, 1892. 
 
 6 Twenty Years at Hull House, New York, Macmillan, 1910.
 
 136 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 the extremely poor. Yet this class is as a drop in the bucket 
 to the class of workingmen who are making a comfortable 
 living. The slums are remarkably free of American fam- 
 ilies, and are recruited nearly altogether from the foreign 
 classes who have been corrupted by undemocratic govern- 
 ments. It is conceivable that as amalgamation goes on 
 these foreigners may be willing that the slums be made 
 livable. At present they do not seem to wish anything 
 better. 
 
 There is no doubt that the class of non-workers in 
 America is extremely small in comparison to that in other 
 countries. Even the trust magnate puts in a strenuous day 
 of work. The idle rich are daily growing in disfavor. One 
 of their number has but recently written a book on The 
 Passing of the Idle Rich,'' which shows rather conclusively 
 that their class is doomed. As a rule there is a greater 
 desire in America than elsewhere to do one's own Avork, 
 and hence there is much less service than in Europe. 
 
 Not everything in regard to the rich, however, is so 
 favorable as these two points. There is no doubt that 
 wealth is coming every year more into the hands of a few 
 men. Fortunes have increased within the past few years 
 of trust activity to many times their former size. The 
 millionaire is now a common thing. More than one thou- 
 sand of them live in New York alone, and several men are 
 approaching the billion dollar class. Here is a worse con- 
 dition, in some ways, than any that Europe shows. 
 
 Among the evils, then, that Tolstoy mentions, which 
 have been done away with by political and conservative 
 social reform, are exorbitant rents, exorbitant taxes, idle 
 aristocracy, a great number of idle rich, and poverty in the 
 country. 
 
 The chief evils in this free country that remain to be 
 remedied are the concentration of the poor in slums, and 
 the evil conditions of these slums, on the one hand, and, on 
 
 ^ Frederick Townsend ^fartin, The Passing of the Idle Rich, New 
 York, Doubleday, Page, and Co., 1911.
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Then?'' 137 
 
 the other, the concentration of wealth in the hands of a 
 few men. On this groundwork of conditions we must work 
 toward an ideal of social reconstruction. 
 
 We must now consider the bases on which this reform 
 must rest. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE BASES OF A SOCIAL SYSTEM 
 
 The greatest danger to which the social reformer is 
 liable is the overemphasis of some fundamental principle 
 that he considers all-important, to the neglect of other 
 things that occupy a definite and weighty position in the 
 social organism. In order that we may be able to judge 
 with some accuracy and certainty of the social ideal we 
 have under consideration, it will be of value to examine 
 briefly those principles, social and personal, which enter 
 into society in such a way as to demand the attention of 
 the man who would form a social ideal. Most of the prin- 
 ciples to be mentioned are entirely permanent and are so 
 well recognized that they will be admitted on all sides. 
 These principles fall into three classes : actual needs of 
 mankind, qualities inherent in man, and things greatly 
 desired by all men, though not absolutely essential to life. 
 
 1. Perhaps the most fundamental need of man is for 
 protection against hunger, cold, and storm. Food is a 
 necessity under all conditions and, except in the rarest of 
 instances, clothes and housing are of equal importance. 
 All society rests on the basis of the physical needs. 
 
 2. Almost as important as food and clothing is health. 
 It is a necessity from economic considerations not less than 
 from those of comfort and pleasure. Anything that is a 
 detriment to the health of the community must be banished, 
 and everything that makes for the improvement and pres- 
 ervation of the health of mankind should be welcomed by 
 the social idealist.
 
 138 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 3. Much of the difficulty in making an optimistic eco- 
 nomic forecast lies in the fact that the population is rapidly- 
 increasing. No system can leave out of consideration the 
 perpetuation of the race, the control of the increase in popu- 
 lation, and the means whereby future generations are to 
 be made better and happier. A thorough knowledge of 
 the science of eugenics must govern the social body in this 
 regard, rather than the schemes of social theorists. 
 
 4. Following directly upon the need for the supports of 
 life is the principle of economy in production and efficiency 
 in labor. On this, indeed, the whole life of the race de- 
 pends. Many persons hold such a pessimistic view of the 
 increase in population that they despair of a living for 
 everyone five hundred years hence, even under the most 
 economical regime. This takes into consideration the strict- 
 est economy in the use of resources and the greatest amount 
 of production possible. Even though we may not take so 
 dark a view of the economic future, it is quite certain that 
 it is of the first importance for man to strive in every way 
 to obtain the strictest economy of production and the great- 
 est efficiency in labor that specialization can produce. 
 
 5. Hardly of less importance as a great social need of 
 man is justice, under which are included many needs, all 
 of a kindred nature. One of the things that the principle 
 of justice allows to a man is equality of opportunity. It 
 must be the purpose of all social reform to bring about con- 
 ditions where the opportunity of all men at the start of life 
 is equal, for this is, doubtless, the crux of the whole social 
 problem. In every way — by education, by special training, 
 by the breaking down of prejudice, or even by an entire 
 reconstruction of the whole social system — this ideal must 
 be kept in front of us. Under the principle of justice also 
 comes the demand that every man shall be rewarded by 
 society in direct proportion to the service he has rendered. 
 This point is disputed by some who wish equality of reward 
 for all service, but the position seems hard to maintain that 
 the reward shall be based on any other principle than ser-
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's'' What Shall We Do Thenf" 139 
 
 vice. It is also a matter of justice that one shall have 
 liberty of life and opinion, since most thinking men agree 
 that these rights are inviolable. A right to a voice in the 
 government is also imperative if we are to have justice. 
 
 6. That there shall be security for one's person and 
 property has been one of the chief desires of man from 
 the beginning of time. Among the first efforts made in 
 the upward march of humanity was that toward the pro- 
 tection of the weak from the strong and the protection of 
 goods from seizure. As civilization has advanced, security 
 of these things has advanced along with it. It is the boast 
 of our civilization that a weak woman may travel with 
 safety the whole length of the continent without an escort. 
 It is only necessary to picture the condition of the high- 
 ways of England a century ago to determine whether this 
 change be toward or away from the ideal. In countries 
 where there is lawlessness, as in the Central American re- 
 publics, business is at a standstill, and the countries suffer, 
 in consequence, enormous economic loss. Security within 
 the country, then, acts directly upon the great principle 
 of economy. But perhaps the greatest economic loss to a 
 country is due to the lack of international security. If 
 international peace is ever possible, it would effect the great- 
 est of all economic savings. We can at least hold it out as 
 a social ideal. 
 
 There are, besides the actual needs of man, certain in- 
 herent qualities that are quite as permanent and as import- 
 ant as any real need could be. 
 
 7. An almost universal quality in man is ambition. 
 Nearly all men desire to attain a little more of the thing 
 the heart is set on. Some may aspire to go as far as they 
 can in the acquisition of knowledge, and hence in self- 
 development and realization. Other men may be ambitious 
 to see their part of the country develop, wishing to make 
 it a happier place to live in ; or they may, on the other 
 hand, have desire merely to reach positions of independence. 
 In all of these cases it is hard to generalize as to whether
 
 140 Vniversity of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 the quality be good or bad. It is quite certain that am- 
 bition to make money has been the cause of a very large 
 proportion of the improvement in machinery and in other 
 economic savings. Thus the end has been good, whether 
 or not the motive that actuated the work was to be com- 
 mended. This principle has been the motive power of prac- 
 tically all the material improvement of the human race and, 
 as such, must have a very honorable place in the list of 
 human qualities. The ambition to make money, however, 
 at the cost of misery for those below us must meet the dis- 
 approval of society. It must be seen whether we may not 
 keep ambition as a virtue and banish it as a vice. 
 
 8. The natural inertia of the race and its dislike for 
 change in the existing order is a point which cannot be 
 slighted. Under equal conditions, that social ideal which 
 avoids revolutionary change with its consequent disturb- 
 ances and sufferings, will be more desirable than one calling 
 for the creation of a new and strange world. 
 
 Besides the needs of man and his inherent qualities, 
 there are several personal wants that are not brought on 
 by bare necessity. Some of these must be reckoned with. 
 
 9. A desire for comfort has been a force that has actu- 
 ated many of the exertions of man. A large number of 
 our inventions have been made in order to minister to this 
 want. Without doubt, that system will be best which, 
 other things being equal, gives the largest amount of com- 
 fort to the human race. 
 
 10. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," 
 wisely says the proverb. Even Tolstoy observes that every- 
 one, even the extremely poor, has several hours a day that 
 must be filled with some form of recreation. For most of 
 humanity this takes the form of amusement. Not a small 
 part of the activity of every city is directed toward the 
 amusement of its inhabitants. Everything that adds to 
 the real pleasure of the human race, so long as it be not 
 counterbalanced by the bad it fosters, must be subject to 
 the approval of the ideal society.
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Thenf" 141 
 
 11. Not a little of the energy of the race is directed 
 toward the satisfaction of the desire for intellectual and 
 aesthetic activity. Aside from the economical use to which 
 our schools are put, a large part of their effort is directed 
 to the satisfaction of the mere yearning of man to 
 know and to think. It is quite certain that the man who 
 does know and think profoundly lives a fuller and richer 
 life than he who lives in ignorance. And quite as important 
 are those arts that teach us to cultivate the aesthetic senses 
 so that we may see all the beauty of life. 
 
 12. Besides the desire to know and think and feel, man 
 has had a strong and lasting passion toward truth. From 
 the earliest times philosophy has been groping among wrong 
 conceptions, trying to reach conclusions that were true. 
 And though it may not always be apparent, men want to 
 know the truth. They may, indeed, keep their ears closed, 
 but it is always because they honestly fear that they will 
 be led astray by the fair form of falsehood masking in the 
 robes of truth. Philosophy is, then, only an outgrowth in 
 this natural tendency in man. Science, too, is erected on 
 the same foundation. It is the sole end of the scientist 
 that he shall find the truth. He will work night and day 
 over intricate problems that at last he may find it. And 
 he who searches after truth is wise, for most of the misery 
 of the earth has been caused through false beliefs, false 
 scientific deductions, and false ideals. 
 
 13. It is said by some that there are no peoples so low 
 that they do not have some form of religion. Certain it 
 is that the greatest part of the human race have something 
 that they call by this name. But we must distinguish 
 between the primitive religion, based on fear and the pro- 
 pitiation of a deity, thoroughly independent as it is of ideas 
 of duty, and modern religion, which is invariably made up 
 of belief, duty, and worship. Society must recognize the 
 desire for the exercise of all these things and provide for 
 it. Many qualities in man that are important and per- 
 manent are perhaps really a part of the religious instinct.
 
 142 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 Among these may be mentioned the instinct for loyalty to 
 a cause or a man, chivalry of man toward woman, and 
 patriotism. Society must reckon with all these instincts. 
 
 Doubtless other primary needs, desires and qualities of 
 mankind might be thought of, but for practical purposes 
 they can be referred generally to one of the classes we have 
 discussed, or else to a combination of two or more of them. 
 These, therefore, form a working basis on which a consid- 
 eration of social ideals must rest. 
 
 These needs and attributes of man are, then, as we have 
 seen: (1) Protection against hunger, cold, and storm. 
 (2) Health. (3) Perpetuation of the race. (4) Economy. 
 (5) Justice. (6) Security. (7) Ambition. (8) Inertia 
 and dislike of change. (9) Comfort. (10) Amusement. 
 (11) Intellectual and aesthetic activity. (12) True con- 
 ceptions of things. (13) Religion. Any social system 
 is strong in proportion as it gives room for the development 
 and wise direction of these primary needs and qualities of 
 man. The system proposed by Tolstoy will be tested by 
 this standard. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE VALUE OF TOLSTOY'S SOCIAL IDEAL 
 
 In treating the social ideal which Tolstoy holds out to 
 us, we shall have to indulge him to a large extent by slight- 
 ing any consideration of how such a state of affairs is to 
 be brought about. Yet it must be insisted that any ideal 
 that does not take into consideration sufficiently the question 
 of its practical adaptability to the human race as we know 
 it, and the means of obtaining its adoption by the race, 
 must be looked upon as lacking in the power desirable in 
 a scheme of social reconstruction. It must be said, at the 
 beginning, that Tolstoy does not tell us in any definite way 
 the answer to the question, "What shall we do then?" He 
 seems very often to be just at the point of telling us, but
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstotj's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 143 
 
 the reader is generally left to take comfort from some moral 
 exhortation which, without definite direction, leads nowhere. 
 We must leave our sinful lives, says he, and work with our 
 hands. That is the center of his argument. But we are 
 not told of any system whereby such asceticism is to be 
 made the basis of a whole social sj'stem and not lose itself 
 in the enthusiasm of the members of a strange cult. He 
 thinks that if one man goes to the country and works with 
 his hands, another and then another will be seized with the 
 enthusiasm and will also go to the country and work with 
 his hands as well.® This might be a possible supposition, 
 but no provision is made for the bringing about, by this 
 method, of the ideal conditions he wants. No plan is of- 
 fered for the establishment of anarchy, or the abolition of 
 private property or for any other of the bases of his system. 
 Indeed it is quite certain that if the best men of the nation 
 became farm laborers, the hand of the government would 
 become stronger and stronger, as it always tends to do when 
 the attention of the real leaders of thought is directed into 
 other channels. The great majority of men will never 
 voluntarily give up their property, and this seems to be the 
 only means of attaining non-ownership that is suggested. 
 It is to reckon without one's host to hope for such a moral 
 revolution in mankind. If such a moral revolution should 
 take place, the nature of the social system would be of 
 little moment, for there would be no injustice. 
 
 As an ideal, therefore, the system is lacking in a very 
 important respect. If such a thing can really be done, 
 let us, for the time being, put aside this element of imprac- 
 ticability of attainment, and consider the ideal as a working 
 system, supposing that in some way, natural or super- 
 natural, man should find himself living under that regime. 
 
 In the first place, there is no government. Tolstoy 
 makes this as clear as anything can be made. His teach- 
 ings in this regard were recognized by the Russian govern- 
 
 8 Cf. for example, What Is To Be Done?, pp. 265, 266, 270 (tr. Wie- 
 ner, pp. 317, 318, 324).
 
 144 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 ment, so that in the Russian editions we find the whole of 
 the argument about the state lacking. Fifty pages of the 
 translation appeared in the original as only nine. "As 
 long," he says, "as there is an armed man with the ac- 
 knowledgment of his right to kill another man, whoever 
 he may be, so long there will exist an unjust distribution 
 of wealth, — in other words, slavery. '"* His greatest argu- 
 ment against the state seems to be a sneer,^° which pervades 
 this part of his book. Even majority rule is not good, for 
 if there is one man against the policy of the government, 
 an injustice is done. The very nature of the state, accord- 
 ing to Tolstoy, makes it unjust.^^ 
 
 A discussion of this argument of Tolstoy against the 
 state will be made later. Here it is simply the purpose 
 to put forward the ideal of society. The first point, then, 
 in this ideal is anarchy — the absence of government or cen- 
 tral authority. 
 
 Much of the essay is concerned with the principle of 
 non-ownership of property. The root of all evil is money 
 and, along with it, the ownership of the land. He does 
 not give us a very clear account of how a social system 
 would get along without the ownership of property, either 
 by the individual or by the state. He does tell us of 
 an Utopian community among Russian peasants which he 
 considers to be an embodiment of the ideal. "They come 
 to a land," he says, "settle themselves on it and begin to 
 labor ; and it does not enter into the mind of any of them 
 that a man who does not use the land could have any claim 
 to it, and the land does not assert any rights of its own ; 
 on the contrary, the colonists conscientiously recognize the 
 communism of the land, and that it is right for everyone 
 of them to plow and mow wherever he likes. ' '^^ 
 
 The people can obtain various instruments of labor and 
 work with these, or with others borrowed without interest. 
 
 What Is To Be Done?, p. 136 (tr. Wiener, p. 158). 
 loIMcl., p. 128 (tr. Wiener, p. 150). 
 
 11 Ibid., p. 128 (tr. Wiener, p. 150). 
 
 12 Ibid., p. 86 (tr. Wiener, p. 103).
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 145 
 
 We are not told how these may be obtained, but we may 
 suppose that they are to be of the man's owti manufacture, 
 or the manufacture of several or many men working to- 
 gether. Tolstoy will admit of an association of these men 
 together for common purposes, but it is difficult to decide 
 what would be their method of procedure. Certainly' ex- 
 perience teaches us that if, as he desires, no action is to 
 be taken that is against the wishes of any of the members^^ 
 very little could ever be accomplished. Experience with 
 any association of men shows us that there is always dif- 
 ference of opinion. Such an association forms the only 
 economic device that Tolstoy suggests for his social system. 
 
 A society that lacks government and ownership of 
 property will thus be entirely revolutionary in the most 
 basic principles. It would hardly be compatible with life 
 in the city or with any complicated industrial ventures. 
 
 Indeed this very question of division of labor is dis- 
 cussed at large by Tolstoy, but it is difficult to find to what 
 extent he would actually admit it into his system. At one 
 place he says that it is good as a principle so long as all 
 the people who support a man, who is not himself a direct 
 producer of food, but who is doing some work for which 
 he is particularly fit, are willing for him to continue his 
 work and are, in turn, willing to support him for it. But 
 we shall see that he does not agree that this can, as a matter 
 of fact, often happen. At the most it will admit of a black- 
 smith or a teacher in the neighborhood. None of the work 
 that is done in the city would receive his approval, for 
 there are always those who contribute to the support of 
 these city people unwillingly, and this, he says, is slavery. 
 He would not free men from the necessity of producing 
 bread on the farms in order to be bootmakers, machinists, 
 writers or musicians,^'* but w^ould have them produce their 
 means of support by actual work first, and then attend to 
 the special duties that they are better fitted for. This 
 
 13 Ibid., p. 132 (tr. Wiener, p. 153). 
 ^^Ibid., p. 257 (tr. Wiener, p. 309).
 
 146 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 method of work is to be desired, for, in the ideal state, 
 the making of the living wonld be a privilege and would 
 allow these men to do their own special work better. He 
 wishes the day to be divided into four parts,^^ the first for 
 hard labor, the second for mental labor, the third for handi- 
 craft, and the fourth for intercourse with men. Each man 
 would in this way produce all that he needed. This follows 
 naturally as a corollary of non-ownership. Nothing could 
 be bought if nothing could be owned, and nothing could be 
 bartered for if the commodities on either side did not be- 
 long to the parties concerned. The only method, then, of 
 getting the work of another man would be to take it without 
 recompense, or to exchange actual work for it — the only 
 thing a man owns. This latter is, to say the least, incon- 
 venient — so much so indeed that little manufacturing could 
 be looked forward to in a society without property. 
 
 Such is the business condition that Tolstoy outlines for 
 his ideal society. What does he ofi'er his people for mental 
 food? 
 
 He agrees, in the first place, that people not only need 
 to be fed, but that they have thoughts, passions, tempta- 
 tions and errors that must be ministered to.^^ Indeed he 
 admits that the spiritual and mental activities are necessary 
 and are the most difficult of men's callings.^'' But this does 
 not mean that he approves of either the present educational 
 or ecclesiastical systems. Higher education he condemns 
 outright.^^ People who have been off to school, he tells 
 us, are unfit for life.^^ Science, as popularly known, he 
 regards as useless, serving merely to maintain a number of 
 men in idleness, who spend their time collecting material 
 to justify the present miserable state of affairs. They 
 are not hardworking men, but usually live in luxury and 
 
 15 What Is To Be Done?, p. 248 (tr. Wiener, p. 299), 
 
 16 Ibid., p. 23 (tr. Wiener, p. 27). 
 
 17 Ibid., p. 237 (tr. Wiener, p. 272). 
 ^s Ibid., p. 209 (tr. Wiener, p. 252). 
 19 Ibid., p. 237 (tr. Wiener, p. 273). 
 
 J
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoxfs" What Shall WeBo Then?'' 147 
 
 dissipation.^*^ He is wholesale in his condemnation of uni- 
 versities, libraries, conservatories, picture and statue gal- 
 leries, and theatres.-^ The following classes of men he 
 looks upon as quite useless in the social system: experi- 
 mental scientists, antiquarians, historical novelists, picture 
 artists, musicians and poets." Science and art are useless 
 so long as they are practised for gain and are not intelli- 
 gible to everyone.'^ He attacks the experimental and in- 
 ductive methods used by science. He denies the theory 
 of evolution and that of the organism of humanity.^* Edu- 
 cation must not recognize either of these theories. 
 
 Education, then, in the way we ordinarily think of it, 
 does not enter into Tolstoy's scheme. No compulsory edu- 
 cation is to be tolerated.-^ Education must not be of such 
 a nature that some people are improved beyond others, for 
 the barrier of education and cleanliness that stands between 
 people must be broken down.-® All the amenities of life 
 are to disappear, for with hard work the desire for them 
 always disappears.^^ It is particularly wrong, he thinks, 
 to serve men by that advantage which an education is sup- 
 posed to give.-^ Hence we gather that education is to have 
 nothing more than an incidental place in the system, and 
 that it seems to reduce itself to the sporadic attempts of 
 men w'ho have the inclination to teach other people after 
 working all day. A place for a full-time teacher would 
 probably not be provided, for not everyone would want 
 the teacher to teach. The intellectual life of the people 
 would consist largely of the simplest amusements of the 
 folk. On the other hand, he thinks that there would be 
 
 20 Ibid., p. 213 (tr. Wieuer, p. 237). 
 21- Ibid., p. 177 (tr. Wiener, p. 215). 
 
 22 Ibid., p. 235 (tr. Wiener, p. 271). 
 
 23 Ibid., p. 238 (tr. Wiener, p. 273). 
 
 21 Ibid., p. 190 (tr. Wiener, p. 223). 
 25 Ibid., p. 221 (tr. Wiener, p. 266). 
 2<-' Ibid., p. 72 (tr. Wiener, p. 84). 
 
 2-! Ibid., pp. 250, 251 (tr. Wiener, pp. 300, 301). 
 28 Ibid., p. 245 (tr. Wiener, p. 294).
 
 148 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 room for the great teachers and philosophers of life, who, 
 he says, are the only true scientists. As for religious ac- 
 tivity he says little, but there is no reason to suppose that 
 a religion — fillecl with superstition as it would naturally be, 
 with such ignorance abroad in the land as these meagre 
 educational advantages would bring about — might not have 
 a place in the system. 
 
 This social body would be ruled largely by moral con- 
 siderations. What some of these principles are we are 
 told by our author. A kind of asceticism is the first thing 
 taught as the necessary basis : scientists must suffer in 
 order to help rnenf^ merely because a thing gives one 
 pleasure it is to be condemned. It is wrong to give charity 
 when one feels good in giving it.^° Tolstoy's extreme ab- 
 stemiousness from pleasing food and from clean clothes 
 which he likes also illustrates that this is one of the prin- 
 ciples. The philosophy he gives is extremely hard to form 
 into any consistent scheme. His whole book seems to be 
 a call to sacrifice oneself for Humanity, but it reiterates 
 that the real purpose is not the result for mankind, but 
 for oneself. Labor shall be performed not for production, 
 but because it is good for one to labor.^^ Benevolence must 
 be practiced, but to the end that one may be a benevolent 
 man. Indeed, a man shall go to all lengths to reach this 
 end. He cannot stop at one ruble or ten thousand in his 
 gifts, for he must be a really benevolent man. "One can- 
 not be a second-rate kind man."^- Everything is looked 
 on from the personal point of view. 
 
 Tolstoy gives us, then, a social ideal that calls for an- 
 archy, that forbids ownership of any property, real or per- 
 sonal, that limits education to the merest rudiments, dis- 
 regarding the work of great scientists and artists, and 
 taking a personal motive for action rather than a humani- 
 tarian. 
 
 20 What Is To Be Done?, p. 237 (tr. Wiener, p. 285). 
 so Ihid., p. 46 (tr. Wiener, p. 54). 
 
 31 Ibid., p. 237 (tr. Wiener, p. 284). 
 
 32 Ihid., p. 73 (tr. Wiener, p. 87). 
 
 A
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Then?" 149 
 
 Does such a system stand the test we have proposed in 
 the last chapter for the examination of the social ideal? 
 Does it minister to those fundamental needs of man that 
 must be considered in social reform? 
 
 1. To supply" the need for food and clothing and for all 
 the primary physical needs is one of the first purposes of 
 Tolstoy's reform. There is little doubt that for a time 
 such might, indeed, be the result. But we could not hope 
 for material plenty to last into the distant future. The 
 reason for this will be seen when economy and security 
 are discussed. 
 
 2. We have noted that health is one of the great 
 requisites of mankind. Tolstoy thinks that health will 
 come without trouble if we will all begin hard work. Does 
 this follow? Is it not quite certainly true that epidemics 
 among savages and all peoples " uncontaminated by our 
 artificial civilization" are much more fatal than in centers 
 Avhere perfect hj^giene and skilled surgery and medical prac- 
 tice prevail ? In rural England in the unenlightened Middle 
 Ages, the Black Death carried off a distressingly large part 
 of the population. Under the most healthful outward con- 
 ditions, it is absolutely necessary to use scientific methods 
 to prevent sickness. For this Tolstoy makes little provision, 
 lie believes that all the painstaking work of the scientists 
 in this direction has been lost and that it is only by labor- 
 ing that health can be attained. There is no doubt that 
 the general state of health would be improved if everyone 
 were on the farms, but it is certain that this would be 
 overcome b.v the disregard of hygiene and cleanliness w^hich 
 he advocates. 
 
 3. An efficient consideration of the perpetuation of the 
 race is lacking in the system. We can be only apprehensive 
 of the result if such large families as Tolstoy wishes be- 
 come the rule. The duty of women shall be, he says, to 
 produce all the children that they can. He does not con- 
 sider whether such a condition would bring about a race 
 of efficient beings. Neither does he take into account the
 
 150 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 fact that in some way the increase in population must be 
 checked, if we are not to meet economic ruin. Certainly 
 the position of scientific eugenics is, in every way, saner. 
 
 4. Perhaps the greatest weakness of Tolstoy's system is 
 the fact that it ignores entirely the question of economy. 
 The purpose of his system is not to produce much, but to 
 labor. In other words, it is the exertion that is the good 
 thing and not the result of the exertion. But experience 
 teaches us a different lesson. Although Tolstoy scorns the 
 law of Malthus, there is much truth in it, and there would 
 be still more truth if the present economical methods were 
 not in vogue. Division of labor, machinery, education, and 
 special training are all necessary if we are not soon to 
 reach the starvation point. The greatest of economic de- 
 vices, money, is banished from his system. There is no 
 likelihood that permanent buildings would be built on land 
 to which no one had any claim. As soon as a building 
 should be erected, any man or men possessing sufficient 
 physical strength could proceed to oust the man who built 
 it, and there would be no authority to interfere. Few tools 
 would be made under an arrangement by which the one 
 who did not help would have the same right to the use 
 of them as the one who made the sacrifice in order to pro- 
 cure them. We see then that even from the point of view 
 of supplying man with the primary needs of life the policy 
 is short-sighted. 
 
 5. And would there be justice? Yes and no. There 
 would, we agree, be equality in the opportunities of men. 
 All would be brought down to the same level. The question 
 whether, without government, this equality could be kept, 
 is important : it is hardly conceivable that it actually would 
 subsist for any long time. Nor can we say that society 
 would reward every man in proportion to the value of his 
 services. Indeed, there would be no reward except the 
 living a man would filch from the soil. Not every man 
 finds his greatest ability to be in hard manual labor. We 
 have seen that everyone must, first of all, work with his
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Then?" 151 
 
 hands, and this work is to be considered the man's real 
 service to humauit}-. It is impossible under Tolstoy's sys- 
 tem to provide that a man who might serve his country 
 with enormous economic saving, by superior qualities as a 
 statesman, or as a manager of large industries, or as an 
 inventor, should get a reward commensurate with his ser- 
 vices. Division of labor we have seen would be extremely 
 limited, by the law that the service must have the unanimous 
 consent of those who support the man who does not labor 
 with his hands. What statesman in America or Europe, 
 or what inventor or industrial genius, could command the 
 unanimous support of those whom he is benefiting? Real 
 reward, then, would come only to the man who is of greater 
 physique than others, or who by some skill is able to pro- 
 duce more from the soil than another. Is not this itself an 
 element of unfair discrimination? The third point that 
 we have included under justice was a right to a voice in 
 the government. This could hardly apply in a system with- 
 out government. But there would exist, as Tolstoy says, 
 associations. Let us see how nearly every man would have 
 a voice in the conduct of this association. A motion is up 
 that a viaduct be built across a morass.-^ Ninety-eight 
 per cent of the voters express approval and two per cent 
 disapprove. In this ease the motion is lost because there is 
 objection. Is not this, in the first place, an unfair discrimina- 
 tion in favor of the negative votes, and, secondly, a positive 
 disfranchisement of ninety-eight per cent of the voters ? We 
 cannot say, then, that a voice in the management of affairs 
 is guaranteed by the system. It does, as we have seen, 
 give, at least for a time, equal opportunities, but it dis- 
 regards the necessity for just reward and for the right 
 to a voice in the affairs of the community. 
 
 6. Security of life and property we have seen is a 
 necessity not less than justice. It is to provide for this 
 that all governments exist — at least in theory. In Tol- 
 stoy's scheme absolutely no provision is made for the re- 
 
 33 What Is To Be Done?, p. 132 (tr. Wiener, p. 154).
 
 152 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 straining of the strong and unruly who might wish to par- 
 take unjustly of the results of the work of the weak. That 
 society would be Utopian indeed that would so far change 
 man's nature that it would need no restraint. 
 
 Not only does Tolstoy disregard the most fundamental 
 needs of existence ; he overlooks the fact that there are cer- 
 tain inborn qualities in man that cannot be changed. Two 
 of these we have seen are ambition and dislike of change. 
 
 7. In the discussion of ambition it was noted that it 
 was one of the greatest assets of mankind, and one of the 
 strongest forces that had influenced man's upward course 
 in civilization. It was seen that it was also capable of 
 abuses. Does this ideal foster what is good about it, and 
 do away with what is bad? The man of superior qualities 
 would not have an efficient field in which to develop them, 
 and he would not have any reward, which is the thing that 
 ordinarily spurs one on to ambitious effort. The system 
 would prevent all creative ambition. We must admit that 
 along with the elimination of the constructive power of 
 this quality, society would be rid of many evils which 
 grow from a perversion of ambition. There would be no 
 temptation to the business man to grind his employees 
 under the weight of hard work and low pay. Man's highest 
 material aspiration would be a mere living from the soil. 
 But the loss of ambition as a spur to effort would be enough 
 to condemn any social ideal. 
 
 8. Although we have supposed, for the sake of the argu- 
 ment, that the society proposed by Tolstoy could be estab- 
 lished, we may, nevertheless, urge as a point against the 
 system that its establishment would, as we have seen, neces- 
 sitate a great and inconvenient change in the present 
 society. 
 
 9. That Tolstoy disregards comfort there is little room 
 to doubt. He continually admonishes the most frugal fare 
 and the simplest and least luxurious furniture. It is con- 
 ceivable, however, that by common consent a man might be 
 allowed to keep a comfortable chair he had made for his
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?'' 153 
 
 leisure moments. Naturally it would belong to everyone 
 else as much as to him. Those inventions that make for 
 comfort would probably be stillborn, for in no way can 
 there be any reward for this service. The desire itself 
 would not, therefore, receive sure satisfaction, and the 
 great progress caused by this motive would be done away 
 with. 
 
 10. Just what room there would be in the society for 
 the agents of amusement is difficult to say. He suggests 
 in one place that folk-songs and perhaps simple theatres 
 which can be understood by absolutely everyone should be 
 the principal recreation. But there would surely be lack- 
 ing much that gives the theatrical business its present im- 
 petus. No box-office receipts would be possible, and no 
 actors could be had to give their time to the work in 
 order to receive the requisite years of training. ]\Iuch of 
 the variety of amusements in the city today which gives 
 so much real pleasure to the people would be done away 
 with. Particularly would all light recreation for the per- 
 son of superior mind be lacking. 
 
 11. And would these thinkers have opportunity for the 
 intellectual and aesthetic activity that they crave? We 
 have seen that there would be no higher education, no 
 science (as we generally understand the term), no artists 
 and no musicians. We presume that boote already in 
 existence would be retained, but they could not belong to 
 anyone. Having no head and no directing power and 
 no active standard bearers, the intellectual life, it is to be 
 feared, would lose itself in an aimless and unprofitable 
 existence. 
 
 12. That most precious possession of man, that which 
 elevates him the highest above the brute creation — the as- 
 piration toward the truth and the light — would receive but 
 little encouragement under the system. There is no doubt 
 that the greatest strides toward true conceptions in the 
 past have been made through the help of the experimental 
 scientist. All other guides have, at one time or another,
 
 154 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 led astray. Religion and philosophy, based as they very 
 often are, on theory or metaphysics, often find that the 
 real facts belie their findings. It is only by inductive 
 reasoning that truth has been approached. Tolstoy argues 
 against this, the only true instrument for correcting man's 
 erroneous opinions. Science and philosophy would be 
 thrown back to the speculative stages. Theories would be 
 formed, and then facts found in concord with these 
 theories.^* The system would throw us backward thous- 
 ands of years in our search for truth. 
 
 13. There is little doubt that this narrow view of science 
 would have a profound influence on the religion of the 
 people. It would, of necessity, depend for its accuracy of 
 belief on the vagaries of the theorists of the time. It 
 could hope for no scientific basis of truth. As far as the 
 beliefs go they would, in all probability, be very narrow. 
 We are to suppose that there avouIcI be freedom of worship, 
 and that there might be efficient work done by the organ- 
 ization, hampered, as it would be, by the difficulty of action 
 without majority rule, and without property. 
 
 Tolstoy's system is thus thoroughly inefficient in the 
 following points : Economy, Security, consideration of the 
 Perpetuation of the Race, recognition of the Dislike of 
 Change, Amusement, Intellectual and Aesthetic Life, and 
 the Search for the Truth. We see that in the following 
 points his system is both good and bad — correcting faults 
 in one direction, but creating them in others : Phj^sical 
 Necessities, Justice (nearly all bad), Ambition, Comfort 
 (largely bad), and Religion. In not a single point do we 
 find his system thoroughly efficient. 
 
 But perhaps someone may say : ' ' We grant that the 
 system has imperfections, but it is much better than the 
 present system or any other that has been proposed." It 
 would be a sorry world if this were true, but it is not. 
 Several systems can be thought of that surpass the one 
 outlined by Tolstoy in nearly every respect. 
 
 s-* Cf. chapters xxvii-xxxviii, passim.
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Thenf" 155 
 
 Our present system, bad as it is, violates only the prin- 
 ciple of justice, and, to a small extent, of economy. "We 
 have a reasonable amount of security, provision for suffi- 
 cient food and clothing (though not for its just distribu- 
 tion), care for health and increasing attention to eugenics. 
 Ample place is given in the present scheme for ambition, 
 comfort, amusement, intellectual and aesthetic activity, 
 science, philosophy, and religious thought and practice. It 
 has the advantage of the approval of experience, and does 
 not call for any radical and inconvenient change. 
 
 Such is our present system. There are two schools who 
 look to improvement in matters of justice and economy. 
 The Socialists wish to change the whole system of produc- 
 tion, and promise us, as a result, perfect justice. It is 
 doubtful whether such an ideal would be possible under 
 their system, for the activity of some men (such as capi- 
 talists) w^ould be curtailed, but, in general, a great im- 
 provement might be looked for in justice and economy. 
 It would not foster ambition in the same way that the 
 present system does, and it has the disadvantage of being 
 revolutionary. It is, thus, an improvement in two import- 
 ant points, and a retrogression in two not so vital. It 
 surpasses Tolstoy's system in every single respect as a real 
 social ideal. 
 
 Another class of reformers seek to avoid revolutionary 
 change and to foster ambition, at the same time making 
 improvements in justice and economy. By public owner- 
 ship of natural monopolies, by added effort toward efficient 
 education, by greater political freedom, by inheritance and 
 income taxes, these reformers hope to make the opportun- 
 ities of life more equal and the production of commodities 
 more economical. This system would meet every need, de- 
 sire, and instinct of man. Even in the matter of justice, 
 its only weakness, it is better than the ideal held out in 
 What Shall We Do Then? 
 
 Tolstoy's social ideal has thus been examined and found 
 wanting. Its adoption could mean only misery for man-
 
 156 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 kind. Instead of the improvement which we may rightfully 
 expect a social ideal to bring about, the system would be 
 vastly worse than that under which we live. It has none 
 of the virtues that belong to other ideals of social reform, 
 either socialistic or conservative. It has all their faults. 
 
 Such failure in a system, when applied to actual prac- 
 tice, cannot be accidental. The fault is basic. It lies in 
 the three fundamental principles on which the system rests. 
 It will be well to examine the arguments that influenced 
 Tolstoy to adopt principles that led to so erroneous a social 
 ideal. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 TOLSTOY'S FUNDAMENTAL ERRORS 
 
 Tolstoy tells us that after he gave up his attempts at 
 charity in Moscow in despair, he fell, as Malory would say, 
 "into great thoughts." Since things were thoroughly out 
 of joint, as his experience showed him they were, there 
 must be something radically wrong with the fundamental 
 conceptions on which the present state of affairs is based. 
 Accordingly he examined three of the cornerstones of our 
 existing system and found them false. Hence it was easy 
 to see why the structure built on these foundations was 
 so imperfect. These first principles were government; 
 property ownership, and particularly the ownership of 
 money; division of labor, and especially the position of 
 science and art in the social body. 
 
 The reasons for these conclusions are given rather fully 
 in the essay. It is now our task to examine them and to 
 see if these principles are really wrong in themselves, as 
 Tolstoy says, or whether they are themselves good, but have 
 given rise to evils because of the unwise or wrongful use 
 of them. The discussion will be confined almost entirely 
 to Tolstoy's own arguments.
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 157 
 
 The points made in Chapter XXI of What Shall We Do 
 Then? are sufficient for the purpose in hand, so far as the 
 argument against government is concerned. Tolstoy's arg- 
 ument, we shall see, is against government in the abstract — 
 government as such, and this we must be careful to re- 
 member at all times. Instances of the inefficiency of any 
 particular government which can be shown to be peculiar 
 to that form, but which have been done away with in other 
 forms, are of no weight. To admit such is equivalent to 
 arguing against the family as an institution because a 
 certain father is unjust. 
 
 There are, as has been shown, three parts to his argu- 
 ment against the state: (1) It is not sacred. (2) It is 
 useless. (3) It is wicked and unjust. 
 
 The first point has been mentioned already and we shall 
 pass over it rapidly. It is hard to know just what we mean 
 by sacred. If we mean that it has a certain divine origin 
 and that, for some superstitious reason, we should honor the 
 institution, most of us will, without doubt, agree with 
 Tolstoy. But if it means that this institution has been 
 handed down by our fathers as the best and most econom- 
 ical social device they could find, embodying the result of 
 long ages of experiences, and descending on us as a prec- 
 ious heritage, there will certainly be those who feel that 
 in this respect he is in error. It is not, however, a point 
 on which we can insist. The sacredness of the state must 
 rest, in last analysis, on its efficienc}' and its good offices. 
 
 But the state is wicked, he tells us. In order to support 
 this statement he quotes numerous instances of the abuse 
 of power in Kussia, unjust taxes, army conscription, and 
 excessive rents. We cannot say that these things exist in 
 an unjust form in any of the more enlightened governments. 
 A pampered aristocracy is no intrinsic part of the state. 
 Army conscription is not practiced in America. Taxes 
 are not unjust so long as the people who give them are 
 receiving the worth of their money. But, he would argue,
 
 158 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 there are those who feel they are not getting the worth of 
 their money. Is not that unfair? 
 
 This brings us to the very basic principle of government. 
 "The state must exist for the welfare and business of the 
 people, to rule and protect them from their enemies. "^^ 
 This he quotes as the false definition of government. It 
 does not exist for their welfare, he says, for there are people 
 who do not want it. It is wrong, he says, to make a man 
 do a thing he does not want, even though it be ''for the 
 common good." Perhaps this expresses his argument as 
 well as anything else: "You may try to persuade men 
 that their welfare would be greater when they all become 
 soldiers, are deprived of land, and have given their whole 
 labor away for taxes; but until all men consider this con- 
 dition to be their welfare, and undertake it willingly, one 
 cannot call such a state of things the common welfare of 
 men." This passage has been chosen because it gives the 
 statement in as favorable a light as possible. It will be 
 seen that his illustrations are unfair. In a free country 
 people are not all wanted as soldiers, but only those who 
 desire to go, and men are not asked to give all, or any great 
 part, of their labor for taxes. So the argument reduces 
 itself to the fact that nothing can be called the common 
 welfare of men that is not agreed to by all men. This 
 interpretation is confirmed by the following: "As for the 
 acts, the goodness of which is not intelligible to men, and 
 to which they are compelled by force, such cannot serve 
 for their good, because a reasoning being may consider as 
 good only the thing which appears so to his reason."^" 
 
 The issue is clearly defined. No acts are to be per- 
 formed affecting the whole people and taking the taxes of 
 the whole people, so long as there is any man who does not 
 feel that he, personally, is getting the full benefit of his 
 money. We must agree that this is equivalent to denying 
 
 3r. What Is To Be Done?, p. 128 (tr. Wiener, p. 150). 
 30 Ibid., p. 130 (tr. Wiener, p. 152).
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Then?" 159 
 
 the principle of government — the greatest good for the 
 greatest number. 
 
 Such an abstract point is difficult to argue. The gov- 
 ernment is an association of people bound together for 
 common protection and for the common interest of all. 
 That it carries on many good and useful functions will 
 be seen presently. It is merely a question of convenience 
 whether it is better to have these benefits that help human- 
 ity as a whole, even at the inconvenience or disapproval 
 of some member or members, or to do without these benefits 
 and consequently without the disapproval of the small 
 minority. The question is even easier of solution when it 
 is considered that, though the disapprover may suffer in 
 some ways, he profits in a sufficient number of ways to 
 repay him for the sacrifice. And it must also be added, 
 though Tolstoy denies it, that men often disapprove of 
 that which will really be for their own good. There is no 
 doubt that the public school system does act for good to- 
 ward its opponents quite as much as toward its friends. 
 Any other conclusion would argue for infallibility in every 
 voter in the land. Majority rule, then, is a most convenient 
 thing, to say the least, for it gives the greatest number of 
 people what they want. In doing this, the likelihood is 
 that it also benefits the minority. It is the only method 
 we have of finding what is for the greatest good. Perfect 
 satisfaction is impossible, but shall we therefore have noth- 
 ing done for the common good? 
 
 A common bond of men is necessary. The strong must 
 be restrained, or else they will overcome the weak and we 
 shall be reduced to a state of savagery. That business and 
 industry be carried on is an economic necessity If there 
 be no law restraining the thief or the swindler, or the mur- 
 derer, or regulating the commerce of the land, business 
 will rapidly decline. It is also necessary that great public 
 works be built. The vast reclamation projects of the west 
 may be cited as an example of how the government adds 
 to the economic wealth of the whole nation. Perhaps the
 
 160 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 efficient postoffice system is itself enough to justify the 
 existence of the state. The government weather bureau 
 every year saves the merchants of the land and the farmers 
 an enormous amount of time and energy. The government 
 promotes science, art, agriculture, commerce — every phase 
 of the activity of the people. In many other ways the 
 state and city governments make the lives of the citizens 
 more secure, happier, and, on the whole, richer. The taxes 
 are spent where the people as a whole want them spent 
 and they are just sufficient to stand this common expense. 
 They cannot then be said to be unjust. There is no doubt 
 that the government forms such an efficient means of work- 
 ing together that every man gets back in real value more 
 than he puts into the treasury. If the larger part of men 
 did not think so the tax would not be voted. 
 
 Tolstoy looks upon the army solely as a means of op- 
 pression, as it undoubtedly is in Russia. But in a free 
 government the army serves a real purpose in assuring 
 security to the people and to business and production. 
 Without the power of defense there is always the possi- 
 bility of invasion. To predict that the army can be done 
 away with, even with the dawn of universal arbitration, 
 which seems now to be in favor, is perhaps too sanguine 
 a hope. The police are not less necessary for the local 
 safety, and the state militia is ever a useful and needful 
 thing in the case of local riots and disorders. It is only 
 necessary that government be made the real servant of the 
 largest part of the people to do away with the fear of police 
 or army rule. 
 
 "We must agree, then, that as a matter of fact there are 
 governments Avhich are a real advantage to every one in 
 them, whether they have the support of every one or not. 
 Majority rule is the only way of deciding what the people, 
 as a whole, wants, and this is what a real government 
 ministers to. Government is economical, and is convenient. 
 It adds to the material, spiritual and intellectual life of 
 the people as a whole. That there are those who do not
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's" What Shall We Do Then?" 161 
 
 agree with what the people as a whole wish is not an argu- 
 ment of sufficient weight to induce us to forego the benefits 
 to be derived from such an association. The argument 
 against government, we see, is based largely on Russian 
 conditions that are not inherent in government, and on this 
 erroneous theory that nothing can be good in which all do 
 not acquiesce. 
 
 The center of Tolstoy's whole argument is well ex- 
 pressed in one sentence: "Neither utilize men's labor by 
 serving the government, nor possess land or money. "^^ 
 This suggests his position against the ownership of prop- 
 erty. 
 
 It must be observed that his argument is not for owner- 
 ship of the land by society as a whole. Private ownership 
 and the ownership by society as a whole are both con- 
 demned by him.'^ AVe have seen the inconveniences that 
 non-ownership w^ould bring on society, particularly if there 
 is no government to enforce this condition. We have also 
 shown that ownership is so much more convenient than 
 non-ownership — making as it does for permanent improve- 
 ment of land that a man would not make if he could not 
 have the right to the benefits of his work — that, unless re- 
 strained by some power, man will take permanent possession 
 of property. Without control there is nothing to keep many 
 people from wanting to appropriate the most desirable land, 
 or building, or food. If government is not to settle this 
 very natural dispute, what is? It reduces itself to the 
 final appeal of brute strength. 
 
 But putting aside this practical impossibility of an 
 efficient social state in which there is no propertj^ either 
 personal or belonging to the government, let us examine the 
 abstract arguments against ownership that Tolstoy urges. 
 
 The most comprehensive discussion of property in the 
 abstract is found in Chapter xxxix. Here he makes a 
 special definition of property which, in a way, begs the 
 
 3T niuit Is To Be Done?, p. 139 (tr. Wiener, p. 168). 
 S8 76id., p. 135 (tr. Wiener, p. 157).
 
 162 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 question. ' ' Property means that which is given to me alone, 
 which belongs to me alone exclusively; that Avith which 
 I may always do everything I like, which nobody can take 
 away from me, which remains mine to the end of my life, and 
 that I ought to use in order to increase and improve it. Such 
 property for every man is only himself. "^^ His definition 
 of property is made to fit his argument. That which belongs 
 to one need not be kept till death. What is to prevent its 
 being given away? Neither need it be such that one can 
 exercise absolute control over it. Even with the body, which 
 he admits as property, one cannot do what one wants. A 
 cripple wants to improve his body and change it so that 
 he shall be no longer crippled. Does he have absolute con- 
 trol of it? An athlete wishes to break the world's record. 
 If he were master of his body would he not do it? There 
 are limitations in man's treatment of his body just as there 
 are limitations in his use of a house. This part of the 
 definition does not, then, show why man cannot own other 
 things than his body. There is no reason why a farm may 
 not be given to one man alone and belong to him exclu- 
 sively. Nor can it be taken away any more than one's own 
 life can be taken away. The thief may steal property and 
 the murderer may destroy life. As for destructibility there 
 is no real difference. As for remaining one's own to the 
 end of life, there is no essential difference between personal 
 property and life. Certainly one's belongings may remain 
 all through life and usually, in one form or other, do. But 
 the right to sell property, or to dispose of it so that it does 
 not so last, cannot be different in essence from the right 
 that every man has of suicide at any time. Both remain 
 during the time he wills it, and this must be the real essence 
 of property: that which is subject — within limits — to one's 
 personal control. We find that in but one feature there 
 is an essential difference between one's own body — which 
 Tolstoy admits as property — and that thing generally known 
 as property, which he looks on as an impossibility. This 
 
 30 What Is To Be Done?, p. 268 (tr. Wiener, p. 321).
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''^Yllat Shall We Do Then?" 163 
 
 point is, that that thing only is property which is coincident 
 with ourselves, and which lives as long as we live. About 
 this remnant in the definition, which makes it exclude every- 
 thing he did not want to include, we cannot argue. The 
 definition is made to fit his idea of property and will fit 
 no other. It must, in last analysis, be a matter of opinion 
 whether it is a fundamental quality of property that it 
 must stay with one till death. The contention is, certainly, 
 a very original one. It is but a natural result of the purely 
 deductive method of reasoning he advocates. 
 
 We find, then, that he proves that property cannot exist, 
 by making a meaning for property that will not be admitted 
 and for which he makes no valid argument. Aside from 
 this, we have shown that, in the abstract, there is no reason 
 to suppose that property cannot exist any more than that 
 life cannot exist. 
 
 There remains the consideration whether it is right for 
 man to own anything. This of course makes us inquire 
 what we mean by a thing being right. Some will say that 
 doing right is doing what is for the good of the greatest 
 number. We have shown that ownership of some kind, 
 private or public, is absolutely necessary for the welfare 
 of the people at large. Others will take the personal point 
 of view and say that one should do that which will make 
 him a better man. Will not the same standard of conduct 
 result from this motive? 
 
 The essay deals not onh' with property in general but 
 with one form of it in particular. A large part of the argu- 
 ment is concerned with a diatribe against money, as such. 
 According to Tolsto.y, money has been simply a means of 
 enslaving. The primitive conqueror found slavery too in- 
 convenient a form of subjugation and was forced to adopt 
 others. Taxes, which took the form of money, were found 
 to be the easiest method of utilizing the labor of the con- 
 quered, and this method very early took the place of chattel 
 slavery and land slavery, which were more cumbersome 
 methods of subjugation. Since the time of its first adoption,
 
 164 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 money has always been used for this purpose by the rich 
 who enslave the poor. 
 
 "We must admit that much that Tolstoy says about money 
 is true : it is often used by the wealthy to enslave, and it 
 has been a convenient means of utilizing other men's labor. 
 But, in spite of all this, his condemnation of money is 
 unwise. 
 
 In his treatment of the development of money, Tolstoy 
 has put his stress on an incidental element and has neg- 
 lected to consider the real necessity that called forth the 
 introduction of monej", and which demands that, in spite 
 of the opportunity it affords for greed and corruption, it 
 shall be retained by the present society. Money is the 
 greatest economic device known. It permits the exchange 
 of undesired things for other things that are wanted, with- 
 out the inconvenience of measuring one in terms of the 
 other. The abuses of money, we grant, are many, but the 
 remedy must concern these abuses and not do away with 
 money itself. A sane social reformer cannot follow liter- 
 ally the exhortation, "If thy eye offend thee pluck it out." 
 This, as well as other abuses of property, must be ap- 
 proached in some way that will help, rather than aggravate 
 the trouble. 
 
 The third fundamental wrong with the present state of 
 affairs, according to Tolstoy, is our system of division of 
 labor. It seems that in some slight way he admits division 
 of labor on principle, but feels that, in practice, it is really 
 bad. "The incorrect distribution of wealth," he states, 
 "proceeds solely from the theory of the division of labor, 
 preached by men of art and science for selfish purposes."*'' 
 But we shall see that in another place he approves the 
 principle: "Division of labor [is] a right one only when 
 the special activity of the man is so necessary to others, 
 that they, asking him to serve them, freely offer to feed 
 him in compensation for what he will do for them."*^ 
 
 '" H'hat Is To Be Done?, p. 224 (tr. Wiener, p. 270). 
 *^ Ibid., p. 203 (tr. Wiener, p. 245).
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 165 
 
 Perhaps this can safely be taken as his position. But he 
 will deny that this principle will prodnce many special 
 workers. 
 
 We have already discussed Tolstoy's position in regard 
 to unanimous consent. "We have found that it is entirely 
 inefficient in producing good, that it is unfair, and that 
 it would be the greatest menace possible to the social system. 
 In a sane discussion of division of labor, then, we must 
 disregard this principle. Instead, we must use the only 
 efficient principle in social matters: the greatest good to 
 the greatest number. We are quite willing to grant Tol- 
 stoy's point that division of labor is right "only when the 
 special activity of the man is so necessary to others, that, 
 asking him to serve them, they freely offer to feed him in 
 compensation for what he will do for them." But we 
 must insist that "others" be taken to mean, not all others, 
 but a sufficient number of others to make his work a profit 
 or a desirable thing for the community that supports him, 
 taken as a whole. A large part of our labor as it exists 
 today actually fulfills Tolstoy's conditions. Only those 
 people contribute to the support of a merchant, for ex- 
 ample, or an artisan, or a private teacher, who wish to do 
 so, feeling that they are getting enough in return to make 
 the exchange a good one. But, even in public activities, 
 the functionaries are giving what seems good to the greatest 
 number of the people ; else, in a free government, the people 
 would recall them, or abolish their offices. In private 
 affairs, then, we find that division of labor is ordinarily 
 sufficiently approved by its patrons to make them contribute 
 to the support of the special worker. That there are abuses 
 in the business world only the blindest would deny, but 
 their existence is due to lack of regulation, not to the system 
 itself. That the business man who does not fill a real want 
 cannot live is apparent from the vast number of men who 
 fail every year. The want filled may be a bad one, such 
 as the love for speculation, or for vice (and this must be 
 regulated by law), but as a great whole, and as a principle,
 
 166 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 all people who depend in any way on patronage fill a real 
 need. All who depend on public support, officials, public 
 school and college teachers, government employees, and the 
 like, are liable to lose their positions at any time that a 
 majority of the people feel that they are not receiving 
 benefit in proportion to their outlay. 
 
 We see, then, that the principle of division of labor 
 as we have it is largely self-adjusting. The nature of the 
 thing makes it serve the greatest good of the community. 
 
 Tolstoy well divides the activities of man into four 
 parts : hard labor, handicraft and skill, intellectual activity 
 and social intercourse. In the ideal state he thinks a man 
 would perform all of these. His day is to be divided equally 
 among them. We shall find that under division of labor 
 one of these is ordinarily the principal work of a man and 
 the others are merely his pastimes. In actual experience 
 men have found it impossible to become master of more 
 than one of these activities. 
 
 If we could live without economy we could live without 
 division of labor. But we have seen that life without 
 economy is most improvident of the future, and that if 
 we hope to plan for a prosperous future we cannot afford 
 to neglect anything which will make for economy of pro- 
 duction or efficiency of work. If, then, it be shown that 
 division of labor is a great economic device, we shall see 
 that it serves the best interests of the community. 
 
 In spite of what Tolstoy says, we must insist that "A 
 jack of all trades is master of none." Let us take a few 
 examples. Experience teaches us that it takes a man from 
 four to seven years to become a good physician, that it 
 takes equally long training to become a lawyer. A long 
 apprenticeship precedes the real work of the man who puts 
 together fine clocks and watches, or even of him who suc- 
 cessfully weaves a basket. Years of training are also neces- 
 sary if one is to become a truly successful farmer, getting 
 all that is to be got with the minimum of labor and expense. 
 Four men can fill these positions well. They will be thor-
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Then?" 167 
 
 oughly trained for them. The physician and the lawyer 
 will be able to avoid the mistakes that centuries of former 
 errors have pointed out to them, and the artisan and the 
 farmer will be able to profit by the experience of those who 
 have blazed the trail before them. But let one man try 
 to do all of these things well. One has but a short life — 
 three score years and ten. Shall half of it be spent in 
 learning half a dozen professions? And why stop with 
 that ? There are fifty, nay five hundred activities all neces- 
 sary for the wellbeing of society. In order that these be 
 done well, one would spend one's life in preparation, and 
 then not be ready for all of them. And shall they not be 
 done well? That is the only alternative. 
 
 "With the abolition of division of labor we have the 
 abolition of efficiency and enlightenment. In a complex 
 life men must have very definite work to do and learn to 
 do it well. By such means only can economy be had. And 
 the complex life alone produces economy and efficiency and 
 hence is fated to be the only life that will be able to pro- 
 vide for the future of the race. It is much to be preferred 
 to the general adoption of a pastoral existence. Never 
 were the lives of men fuller than in a system where life is 
 many-sided. Never has man had a clearer vision of truth 
 than under the influence of high specialization. 
 
 But Tolstoy feels that these people who are seeking 
 after truth are not really doing so. He believes that they 
 are striving merely to justify their own existence and that 
 they are spending the people's money and living in idle- 
 ness. We must agree that, if this be true, one of the great 
 reasons for the existence of scientists and artists and men 
 of learning generally is entirely lacking. They, as well 
 as other men, must not live in idleness. They must add 
 to the life of the people and give at least value received 
 for their support. The merchant by his offices of distri- 
 bution ; the farmer by his management and labor ; the me- 
 chanic by his skill; the laborer by his work; the railroad 
 manager by furnishing an easy and economical means of
 
 168 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 travel and transportation ; the government officials by pre- 
 serving peace and by regulating business — all these un- 
 doubtedly form an essential part of the social system and 
 repay society amply for their support. Men of science 
 and art and learning must also contribute to the general 
 economic good or happiness of the community or else they 
 must be condemned as much as Tolstoy condemns them. 
 A¥ill they stand the test ? 
 
 Tolstoy's contention is not that there shall be no art 
 and science, but that the art and science we have is not 
 intelligible to all and therefore must be condemned.*- The 
 great scientists were the great philosophers and teachers — 
 Confucius, Buddha, Christ, and men of their rank. People 
 could understand what they said. Now, however, science 
 is so far divorced from the people that it is merely a matter 
 of confusion to the people. It has not really touched their 
 lives. It has not been of material help to them. The same 
 is true of higher education and of art. 
 
 This sounds like a terrible indictment. But we must 
 examine it before accepting it in the way Tolstoy wishes 
 us to. 
 
 The general principle, that all that is not understood 
 by all the people is useless to them, is erroneous. It takes 
 years, sometimes centuries, of teaching before the simplest 
 truth can really be understood by the people at large. The 
 rotundity of the earth is an example. If scientists had 
 waited for popular approval before that principle was 
 taught we should have still believed implicitly in the flat- 
 ness of the globe, and man would have walked in error 
 to the end of his days. It was more than a century after 
 Copernicus proved scientifically that the earth moved around 
 the sun that Galileo was forced by the church, the leader 
 of non-scientific opinion, to deny this truth, at the peril 
 of his life. And yet we must wait in our scientific investi- 
 gations until it is "intelligible to all men"! Science must, 
 if truth is to be found, be left to discover things without 
 
 42 What Is To Be Done?, p. 233 (tr. Wiener, p. 272). 
 
 I
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 169 
 
 the interference of the layman. It will be seen that, in 
 the long- run, the services of the scientist are invaluable 
 to the world, in spite of the fact that the general public 
 knows nothing of the character of the instruments he uses 
 and cannot understand the terms he employ's in speaking to 
 other scientists. Such communications are not meant for 
 the laymen. They are merely an economical means of com- 
 munication among men in a common pursuit of knowledge 
 and truth. In all cases the truths found reach the public 
 in other ways — in the improvement of a machine, or in the 
 better understanding of some natural law, or in a new 
 surgical achievement, or a new means of salvation from 
 contagious disease. They are none the less valuable be- 
 cause the Italian laborer who is saved from yellow fever 
 thinks the examination of mosquito eggs useless, or because 
 he does not understand the processes employed by the in- 
 vestigator. 
 
 And we shall find that even the science of the ancient 
 days of which Tolstoy speaks was not clear to the people. 
 Even when experimental science is banished, as he wishes, 
 and when theoretical science is established — that science 
 that is really philosophy — we shall find the same trouble. 
 Profound truths are never understood by mankind in their 
 true light. What was the science, or philosophy, that Christ 
 taught men so clearly? Who, of all those simple people 
 he talked to, realized who he was or comprehended the 
 message he delivered to them? His language was foreign 
 to them: they conceived of him as an earthly prince and 
 would not understand what he meant. He came unto his 
 own and his own received him not. But he did not stop 
 his preaching of the truth because of this: at all costs, he 
 wanted the truth searched for and spread. Certainly he 
 would not wait till all the people Avere desirous of his 
 services or till they understood them. He would have 
 waited long, it is to be feared. Nineteen hundred years 
 have passed and there are things he told those common 
 people that the world does not yet understand. And if
 
 170 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 the greatest of the teachers taught where he was not wanted 
 and not understood, how can we set a higher standard for 
 the less powerful modern scholar or scientist or philosopher ? 
 
 We are told that experimental science does not really 
 touch the lives of the people. We are given a picture of 
 the scientist in his laboratory experimenting with the tape- 
 worm. We are told with a sneer*^ that the scientist uses 
 observations and that in these observations there are mis- 
 takes. The scientist also studies animalcules which you 
 cannot see and never will see. A valid refutation of the 
 scientific method, truly ! As if the fact that animalcules 
 cannot be seen with the naked eye, and never will be seen, 
 were sufficient to damn the whole system ! We are told 
 that the scientist makes errors. But who does not? They 
 can be, with the instruments he uses, only trivial. To reject 
 the scientific method in favor of the a priori method would 
 be like discharging an excellent cook because he has pep- 
 pered the soup too strongly, and putting in his place a man 
 who has always worked in the fields and does not know a 
 single rule of cooking. It is to throw away the compass 
 because it varies from true north, and trust ourselves to 
 the storms of the uncharted sea. All knowledge is relative 
 to the human understanding. We can but approach truth 
 as nearly as we can. 
 
 The attack on the methods of science is, after all, entirely 
 aside from the actual results. To say that it has not touched 
 the lives of the people is to be blind to the history of the 
 world. To cite many of these instances would be useless, 
 they are so apparent. Several examples may be mentioned, 
 however. One scientific discovery made in a laboratory of 
 the University of Wisconsin — the cream tester — saves the 
 state annually more than the cost of the maintenance of 
 the university. The railroad has been perhaps the most 
 economical of modern devices. It was evolved by scientists. 
 The telephone, which adds so much to the pleasure of the 
 people, was the result of laboratory science. Not to speak 
 
 43 What Is To Be Done?, p. 231 (tr. Wiener, p. 277).
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Then?" 171 
 
 of these more obvious examples, we may cite the improve- 
 ment in surgical methods which has been the cause of the 
 saving of so many valuable lives. As the years go by the 
 experimental scientist is becoming more and more valuable 
 to the world. Not a little of the difference between the 
 complexion of modern and mediaeval life is due to the work 
 of the man in the laboratory. 
 
 And the scientist has other tasks. He teaches and 
 spreads the knowledge he has attained. The young men 
 and women who attend the universities are led toward a 
 true conception of scientific things. The boys are taught 
 to build bridges better, to run farms better, to keep dairies 
 better, to construct and run engines better, to take care of 
 their health better. The girls are taught the fundamental 
 laws of things, or are made to find them for themselves. 
 They are in many cases also prepared, by experimental 
 science, directly for their life-work. They are taught the 
 science of home-making, with all that it implies. The latest 
 results of the laboratory are embodied in the instructions 
 for cooking, and are taken away, now to a home, now to a 
 lower school where the information is passed on to the 
 greater multitude of the students there, and from them 
 to their mothers and sisters. The girls, too, are taught the 
 laws of hygiene, so necessary for them, as guardians of the 
 home. Sewing, nursing of the sick, home decoration and 
 home economy have all been the concerns of this much 
 despised laboratory science. 
 
 Tolstoy's condemnation does not stop with science. He 
 also condemns art and literature and the pursuits of liberal 
 culture. These are also bad because the common people 
 do not understand them. Here the objection is a little more 
 valid than with science. There are no material results to 
 justify them. This we must admit immediately. But Tol- 
 stoy himself agrees that "science and art are as necessary 
 to men as food, drink, and clothes — even still more neces- 
 sary than these."** But by art and literature he means 
 
 ^*Ihid., p. 226 (tr. Wiener, p. 272).
 
 172 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 that which is understood by everyone. True art is the 
 folk-dance; true literature the folk-song or folk-tale. 
 
 This would be very good if there were none that could 
 understand higher things, but the world is made up of vary- 
 ing grades of intelligence. Mental food must be given to 
 those who are hungering for it. Our standard must not 
 be what the lowest want, nor w^hat the middle want, but a 
 standard of literary and art creation that will be as high 
 as we can make it, appealing to as high emotions, and as 
 high sentiments as man has. It may not reach the poor 
 man, but the poor man must be educated up to see the high 
 things. There are few enough who can soar. Most artists 
 and most writers appeal to the great middle class, the great 
 majority of light readers and of thoughtless art critics. 
 ]\Iore than enough of them appeal to the less intelligent 
 classes. Education strives always to bring the great public 
 to see the majesty, the wonder, the divinity of a great piece 
 of art or a mighty monument of literature. The world 
 can well afford to feed the man who can add to its wealth 
 a single really great production of art or letters : it will- 
 ingly supports the man who writes them an amusing or 
 interesting story or draws them an appealing picture. Tol- 
 stoy seems to forget that the intellectual life must be led 
 by people to whom the simple amusements of the folk would 
 seem the merest child's play. Every person added to the 
 ranlis of those who appreciate that which is really high 
 and good in literature and art, who have a real aspiration 
 for truth and for the portrayal of truth — for real literature 
 and art — is one step added to the process that will result in 
 a reign of peace and happiness. 
 
 Education — lower, intermediate, and higher — is the 
 greatest power for good that we have. The spread of 
 truth in a land, the broadening of the minds of men, the 
 deepening of the real spiritual and emotional life of a 
 people, is the only way to do away completely with injus- 
 tice, and pettiness, and narrowness. It has been the great 
 power for good in the past. It has led man's upward march
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoy's'' What Shall We Do Then?" 173 
 
 from the brute and the savage. Like the pillar of cloud 
 and fire, it is before us today leading toward the promised 
 land. Shall we not follow to the end? 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE REAL VALUE OF TOLSTOY'S ESSAY 
 
 Thus far, we have examined Tolstoy's ideal of social 
 reconstruction and we have found it sadly lacking in all 
 that an efficient and workable social system should possess. 
 We have seen, in the first place, that many of the wrongs 
 that actuated such a revolutionary plan of action have been 
 done away with by other means, and that there remains 
 but a fraction of the real evils, seen by Tolstoy, to be 
 mended. Examination has been made of the various needs 
 of man that must be incorporated, in one way or another, 
 into the system of the social reformer and theorist. Tol- 
 stoy 's system has been measured by these criteria and found 
 thoroughly inefficient. Other systems have, incidentally, 
 been shown to be far superior. Lastl}^, the theories on 
 which these erroneous conclusions are based have been 
 tested and found to rest on unsound reasoning and to be 
 destructive to the social organism. 
 
 But, as we mentioned in the opening paragraph of the 
 paper, the really significant part of the essay has not been 
 discussed. To get all there is in it, we must not take any 
 of his plans or his theories seriously. Stripped of all these 
 things that he seems to be telling us, and which he doubt- 
 less means, the essay wall be found to have a real message. 
 So long as we remember that in all practical matters it is 
 a blind guide, w^e may read with great profit the whole of 
 Tolstoy 's remarks. We must discount much : we must 
 remember the desperate nature of the political conditions 
 under which he wrote, making cool reason a practical im- 
 possibility; we must make allowances for the peculiar con- 
 science that in later years recommended celibacy and yet
 
 174 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 hoped for the perpetuation of the race ; we must, above all, 
 overlook the lack of balance which years of self-analysis 
 and brooding over things when far removed from the main 
 centers of the world's thought naturally brought upon him. 
 We must recognize that he is preeminently honest and that 
 he is actuated by a real love of his kind. 
 
 Perhaps there has never been a stronger plea made for 
 the man who labors with his hands. It is hard for the 
 world of thinkers and philosophers to see things through 
 the eyes of the day laborer. It is hard to Imow what are 
 his relations to all the institutions of life, and how he looks 
 on those things which, thinkers agree, are for the ultimate 
 good of his class. The world has been prone to think of 
 them as a necessitj^ for its happiness, but it has had little 
 enough consideration for their happiness. Too long they 
 have been considered mere conveniences — these sons of 
 Martha. But of late we are beginning to see that they are 
 of as real importance to the state as any of its members, 
 and that they have, along with all mankind, inalienable 
 rights. The world is coming to see that it is a real law 
 of life that he who does not work shall starve. Tolstoy 
 has impressed this by going to the extreme of showing that 
 the work of these laborers is the most important and the 
 most honorable employment of all. He elevates the day 
 laborer into the rank of a god, over all others. Here, of 
 course, he is carried away by his enthusiasm. The work 
 of the man who toils with his hands is just as good as that 
 of any other man who is making an honest effort to serve. 
 It is going too far to say that it is better : 
 
 ' ' All service ranks the same with God. ' ' 
 
 But though we must allow for his enthusiasm, we must 
 see the great lesson that he teaches. Our institutions are 
 for the people and if the greatest part of the people are 
 these men who toil, we must not disregard them. We must 
 make our government and our science and art touch in a 
 real way the life of the common people. We must recall
 
 1912] Thompson: Tolstoij's ''What Shall We Do Thenf" 175 
 
 that it is they who, in large measure, support the govern- 
 ment and pay the taxes. The government should represent 
 them as well as the other members of the state. 
 
 Tliis exaltation of the toiler has another good lesson 
 for us. Too many of our college settlement workers go 
 among the poor with the distinct idea that in some way 
 they are removed from the poor and that they belong to 
 a different set of creatures. Tolstoy insists rightly that 
 the difference between the poor laborer and the rich idler 
 is merely that one does his duty and the other does not. 
 And this is true. In kindness of heart and in honesty and 
 character — the things that really do make the difference, 
 the settlement worker does not differ greatly from the poor 
 and honest people whom she tries to ' ' elevate. ' ' The seem- 
 ing difference is ordinarily a matter of externals — educa- 
 tion, dress, money, rearing. It is only by putting on the 
 cloak of humility, by becoming as one of them, that any 
 real sympathy and help can be done for the poor. ' ' Except 
 ye become as little children ye shall not enter into the King- 
 dom." The same thing holds in all the relations of the 
 rich and the poor. The fact that one must work and gets 
 small reward is no reason that one shall be looked down on 
 and the other exalted. That Tolstoy has gone to the other 
 extreme in no way invalidates his service. 
 
 Besides this wonderful plea for the toiler, Tolstoy has 
 done another great service. He has challenged the great 
 institutions that have been handed down to us. We are 
 prone to take it for granted that they are good. He forces 
 us to put them on the balance and see whether they are, 
 after all, valuable. To answer his arguments we must ex- 
 plore the political organism to its very foundation and see 
 whether it be built on solid rock. We are compelled to 
 question the progress that has been made by man and to 
 inquire whether it be real progress. We are even forced 
 back to the question, which has long been taken for granted, 
 as to whether observation be the real source of knowledge. 
 It is a valuable book that causes men to think, and there are
 
 176 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 few that cause deeper thought than this eternal question 
 of his, "What Shall We Do Then?" 
 
 The greatest of all the questions he sets us to answer 
 about everj^thing is its real worth. Does it really add 
 anything to life? No man, after reading the book, can 
 do any work without asking himself the question, "Is this 
 work to be of real service to humanity?" And by this 
 measure will all the institutions of the world be gauged. 
 The idler will be banished. Those things which are most 
 useful of all, now or for the future, will be cherished by 
 us. With this principle as a guide in our endeavors we 
 shall not fail to add our part in the struggle of humanity 
 toward a better and nobler future.
 
 TOLSTOY'S WHAT SHALL WE DO THEN f — A 
 PROBLEM AND AN ATTEMPT AT A SOLUTION 
 
 NEWTON BISHOP DRURY, 
 
 B.L., 1912
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Foreword — The Problem of Poverty 179 
 
 I. The Problem as seen in What Shall We Do Then? 180 
 II. The Solution advanced in that work 185 
 
 III. What is the Real Problem 192 
 
 IV. What is the True and Ultimate Solution? 204 
 
 Conclusion — Tolstov 's Answer 216 
 
 [178]
 
 TOLSTOY'S WHAT SHALL WE DO THEN? 
 
 A PROBLEM AND AN ATTEMPT AT A SOLUTION 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 To some, Count Leo Tolstoy stands as a teacher; to 
 others, as a prophet ; and to not a few he is a visionary 
 theorist. But he was really none of these. He was a simple 
 searcher after truth. In his diary of the year 1897 he 
 wrote : ' ' There never has been such a thing as my teach- 
 ing; there is the one eternal, universal teaching of the 
 truth. "^ And it was this he sought to find. To know this 
 teaching, to learn the truth, he set out upon his life-long 
 quest, a part of which is chronicled in Wliat Shall We Do 
 Then? 
 
 One thing was uppermost in his mind while writing this 
 work. It was the problem of poverty. Upon this far- 
 reaching and universal question he was seeking light ; for 
 it is a universal question though expressed here in terms 
 of Slavic experience. Since he was led onward by nothing 
 save his passion for truth, his very method of approaching 
 the problem is of vital interest ; the conclusion he reaches in 
 What Shall We Do Thenf is significant; and his final views 
 on the problem of poverty are to the highest degree illumin- 
 ating. 
 
 1 Miscellaneous Letters and Essays, translated by Leo Wiener 
 (Boston, Estes, 1905), p. 555, 
 
 [179]
 
 180 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 It would be well to deal, in proper order, with these 
 different phases of Tolstoy's thought. First let us ex- 
 amine the problem as treated with in What SJiall We Do 
 Then? Then let us ask, in the light of Tolstoy's later 
 observation, in the light of world-wide experience : Wliat is 
 the real problem of poverty ? What is its true and ultimate 
 solution ? 
 
 I. 
 
 One of Tolstoy's many critics has said^ that there is 
 something to be learned even from the aberrations of a 
 great mind. We need not adopt the term applied to the 
 Russian thinker, no doubt too harshly; but certain it is 
 that we may profitably follow all the windings of thought 
 in What Shall We Do Then? The work has little premedi- 
 tated logic in arrangement ; it shows even less conscious at- 
 tempt at literary style. It is merely the history of a 
 thought, portraying the birth, growth, and partial fruition 
 of an idea. 
 
 In the nature of the Slav, according to Matthew Arnold, 
 there is "an extreme sensitiveness .... to what others in 
 contact with him are thinking and feeling."^ This indeed 
 seems a national trait, and Arnold's saying was especially 
 true of Tolstoy. To this sensitiveness we owe the very exist- 
 ence of What Shall We Do Then? And this same charac- 
 teristic is responsible for the peculiarly emotional treatment 
 Tolstoy sometimes gave to the problem before him, result- 
 ing frequently in what the unknowing or the unsympathetic 
 termed his ''aberrations." 
 
 Yet in the work at hand it is valuable to view the se- 
 quence of the chapters just as Tolstoy wrote them. The 
 book opens in a direct manner: 
 
 2 Nation (New York), xl (1883), 298. 
 
 ^Essays in Criticism, second series (New York, Macmillan, 1903), 
 p. 255.
 
 1912] Drunj: Tolstoy's " What Shall We Do Then?" 181 
 
 I had passed all my life in the country. When, in the year 1881, 
 I moved to Moscow, I was struck by the poverty of the city: I knew 
 what the poverty of the country was, but that of the city was new 
 and incomprehensible to me.* 
 
 Here we have the birth of the idea. At once Tolstoy is 
 confronted by the problem of poverty. 
 
 He tells how the feeling he described grew on him. On 
 the streets of Moscow he was repelled by the ragged mendi- 
 cants who begged for alms. In Khitrov Market he saw in 
 all its filth and misery the "lower urban population."^ At 
 Kzhanov house were even greater hardship and debauch, 
 "everywhere the same stench, the same stifling atmosphere, 
 the same mingling of the sexes, the same deliriously drunken 
 men and women."* 
 
 The rich man grew ill at ease ; he felt that such condi- 
 tions were unnatural ; he sought a remedy. A plan of phil- 
 anthropy presented itself to him in connection with the 
 taking of the Moscow census; but, this plan failing, he 
 turned from charity to questioning. "Why, he asked, had he 
 been unable to help the city poor ? 
 
 At last he formed conclusions. He could not help the 
 poor, he thought, because he himself was "standing on 
 boggy ground and trying to pull others from the mire. "'^ 
 He found a satisfactory reason for the city poverty. The 
 rich, he says, have taken from these people, while in the 
 countrj', the things they have produced ; the rich have then 
 gone to the cities, where they can give free rein to their 
 lavish tastes; and the poor have flocked after them, in the 
 hope of getting back some of the necessaries which were 
 taken from them while in the village. This poetic concept 
 is a typical example of Tolstoy's method in dealing with 
 the question. 
 
 * What Shall We Do Then?, translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, 
 Estes, 1905), p. 4. 
 5 Ibid., p. 33. 
 9 Ibid., p. 57. 
 7 Ibid., p. 69.
 
 182 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 Another cause for this poverty he gives in a truly 
 Russian manner. ''I became convinced," he says, "that 
 between us, the rich, and the poor, there has been raised by 
 us a great wall of cleanliness and education. ' '^ This, he con- 
 cludes, is why the rich cannot meet their poorer brothers on 
 a common basis, take them into their homes and give them 
 charitable aid. 
 
 Yet a third reason, he found, lay in the possession by 
 the rich of money. This stood, not for their effort, but for 
 that of others; the money thus had power to command 
 labor. 
 
 Knowing these things, Tolstoy decided that he could not 
 go on living as he then was living. He and his class had 
 not attempted sincerely to help the poor. Such a position 
 for him had become unbearable. And he asks the question : 
 "So what is to be done?'"* Above all, he concludes, if he 
 is to aid the poor he "must not be productive of them. "^° 
 The poor — a sudden thought comes. "What poor?" he 
 passionately exclaims, ' ' Who is poorer than I, a parasite ? ' '^^ 
 
 Then he returns to analysis. He propounds and answers 
 the question, "What is money?" To him it appears the 
 main cause of evil and instrument of oppression. His dis- 
 sertation on money is long; but it is also rambling and 
 inconclusive. It indicates a continuing search in his mind 
 for a more fundamental cause of poverty. 
 
 This search leads to a description of what he calls the 
 modern slavery. Through the medium of money, he says, 
 governmental " violence "^^ holds in bondage the people 
 both through taxation and through the levying of tribute by 
 landlords. "The slavery of our time," he declares, "is 
 produced by militarism, appropriation of land, and exaction 
 of money. "^^ 
 
 s What Shall We Do Then?, p. 84. 
 
 9 Ihid., p. 93. 
 
 10 Ibid., p. 97. 
 
 11 Ibid., p. 98. 
 ^2 Ibid., p. 161. 
 13 Ibid., p. 168.
 
 1912] Drury: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 183 
 
 After arraigning modern science for justifying these 
 things with its sophistries, Tolstoy proceeds to answer his 
 question, "What shall we do?" His plan, summarized 
 briefly, is one of refusing to profit by his position. He will 
 not "exploit"^* the labor of others; he will stand ready to 
 aid where charity can be applied. Now he feels that his 
 inability to help the poor has been removed. 
 
 There is much more to the book ; but what follows aims 
 principally to reinforce the conclusion that he has reached. 
 Tolstoy shows at some length how his own class has "ex- 
 ploited" the labor of the people. He refutes the scientists 
 who, under the theory of the "division of labor, "^^ have 
 justified this unnatural state. He shows how, under pre- 
 tense of serving the people, first the men of the government, 
 then of the church, and finally of science and art, have 
 "emancipated themselves from labor, "^"^ and have joined 
 the upper classes, existing at the expense of the people. 
 Their position he declares to be false and untenable. So 
 for a second time he asks the question, "What shall we 
 do?" 
 
 Tolstoy's final answer presents a three-fold course of con- 
 duct; one of Truth, Humility and Labor. The plan is 
 practically a summary of his former proposals, and adds no 
 new element to the solution of the problem of poverty. 
 
 Concluding, Tolstoy compares the new life he has 
 mapped out with the misery and falseness of the present 
 existence of the rich. He last of all exhorts women to aid 
 in establishing the new order of society. 
 
 This is the main course of thought in Tolstoy's What 
 Shall We Do Then? There are numerous digressions and 
 a varying proportion of space is given to other considera- 
 tions, but the fundamental subject of the work is the great 
 problem of poverty. It is about this that all else turns. 
 The secondary topics are such as need be considered only 
 
 ^ilbid., p. 169. 
 ^5 Ibid., p. 201. 
 10 Ibid., p. 209.
 
 184 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 incidentally. Let us, then, address ourselves to the in- 
 quiry: in what form at the time of writing this book did 
 the problem of poverty present itself to Tolstoy? 
 
 To answer this let us briefly recapitulate. He saw the 
 poor in Moscow. Surprised and shocked to see privation 
 side by side with such abundant riches, he tried to help 
 through giving alms, and failed. He then inquired for 
 reasons. He tried to analyze the situation. We have fol- 
 loAved Tolstoy in his description of the "modern slavery" 
 and the "exploitation of labor." We have noted his con- 
 clusion that these evils were due to landlordism and money, 
 supported by "governmental violence." We have heard 
 his condemnation of the entire faulty structure of Russian 
 society. 
 
 Indeed, the question arising in Tolstoy 's mind concerned 
 all classes of his people. He felt that the entire social and 
 economic scheme was wrong; the rich were just as much its 
 victims as the poor. The trouble with existing institutions, 
 in his mind, was that they had produced two abnormal ex- 
 tremes of society ; there were two classes, the very rich and 
 the very poor ; the position of either class was unendurable. 
 The one was harrassed by mental suffering, the other by 
 physical hardship. Both should seek a remedy; but any 
 step toward permanent betterment must come from the 
 rich. Thej^ alone had the power. What should they do? 
 
 It was a colossal problem which Tolstoy perceived while 
 writing What SJtall We Do Thenf In the final analysis it 
 involved the task of changing conditions of society. 
 
 To tear down the modern slavery ; to make it impos- 
 sible for part of mankind to profit by the labor of the rest. 
 This he believed was necessary. This he considered the 
 problem of poverty.
 
 1912] Drury: Tolstoy's " What Shall We Do Then?" 185 
 
 II 
 
 We have found Tolstoy's conception of the problem of 
 poverty. Let us now observe how he fared in his quest 
 for a remedy. 
 
 Even within What Shall We Do Then? we find assert- 
 ing itself the mental unrest so characteristic of Tolstoy. 
 For, having answered the question once in the early pages, 
 he still casts about for a more satisfactory conclusion. Thus 
 a second answer appears at the end. 
 
 The first solution is based on the Biblical text from 
 which Tolstoy derives the title of the book : 
 
 ' ' And the people asked him, saying, What shall we do then ? 
 
 ' ' He answereth, and saith unto them, He that hath two coats, let 
 him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do 
 likewise. ' 'i7 
 
 This saying of John the Baptist is emphasized repeatedly 
 by Tolstoy. He tells how, ^\•hen a slave owner, he tried to 
 exact as little as possible from his serfs. In regard to the 
 present slavery he plans a similar remedy, stated thus by 
 him: "as little as possible to urge my rights, as long as I 
 am not able completely to renounce them," and "at the 
 same time to impress upon other people the lawlessness and 
 inhumanity of their imaginary rights. "^^ This is Tolstoy's 
 interpretation of the words of John the Baptist. 
 
 Having taken this stand, the great Russian feels he has 
 overcome all three causes of his powerlessness to help the 
 poor. He will not assert the power, which, as a landlord, 
 he has over his tenants ; he will refuse to press the advan- 
 tage which possession of money gives him over those who 
 have none. Where possible, he will give alms. Where he 
 can avoid it, he will not profit by the institutions which 
 have been established and supported by the violence of 
 militarism. 
 
 IT Luke iii, 10, 11. {What Shall We Do Then?, p. 3). 
 18 Ibid., p. 168.
 
 186 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. i 
 
 The second time that Tolstoy takes up the question, his 
 answer is similar. Now he presents his three-fold pro- 
 gramme of conduct : 
 
 So these are the answers which I found for myself in reply to 
 the question What shall we do? 
 
 The first : not to lie to myself ; no matter how distant my path of 
 life may be from that true path which reason opens to me, not to be 
 afraid of the truth. 
 
 The second: to renounce the consciousness of my righteousness, my 
 prerogatives, my privileges in comparison with other men, and to 
 recognize myself guilty. 
 
 The third: to fulfil the eternal indisputable law of man, — with the 
 labor of my whole being to struggle with Nature for the purpose of 
 supporting my own life and that of other men.ia 
 
 This is his final solution, a policy of Truth, Humility, 
 and Labor. After he had found these answers to his ques- 
 tions, Tolstoy implied that he was at peace with himself 
 and the world. 
 
 That, for a time at least, seemed true. But did his 
 remedy extend farther than his own mental comfort? 
 Wherein did it meet the problem of poverty, the problem 
 of the exploitation of labor? 
 
 Let us take his first answer, his application of the words 
 of John the Baptist. As we can gather from his text, what 
 he really provided here was only a form of charity. Even 
 as charity, viewed with the eyes of those whom Tolstoy was 
 seeking to aid, be they the rich or the poor, it was wholly 
 inadequate. Plainl}^ it was impracticable and highly 
 idealistic. Consider, for instance, his proposal to induce 
 all rich men to follow his example, in refusing to take the 
 products of others' labor. Herein lay the only hope of 
 benefit to the poverty stricken. But at last even Tolstoy 
 despaired of accomplishing anything in this way. We may 
 readily agree with him that if all refused to press the 
 advantage they held over others, great good would be 
 worked, no matter what the organization of societj^; but 
 
 19 What Shall We Do Then?, p. 311.
 
 1912] Drum: Tolstoifs " ^Yhat Shall We Do Then?" 187 
 
 such an arrangement cannot be brought about automati- 
 cally. Unfortunately, the plan does not take human nature 
 into account. Whatever change we bring about must be 
 made in society itself, and cannot be made in a few of its 
 individuals. The limitations of Tolstoy's proposal are 
 obvious. In so far as his plan is one of social reconstruction, 
 it would be inoperative ; in so far as it is one of charity, it 
 would not extend beyond his own sphere of influence. Like 
 his attempted renunciation of his estates in 1887,-" the whole 
 scheme of reform is mental rather than material. 
 
 But if the first answer to ' ' What shall we do ? " embodies 
 only a personal solution, the second reply does so to an 
 even greater degree. Consider this second proposal. We 
 have but to read the final words already quoted to see how, 
 this time, the Russian nobleman spoke entirely as one of 
 his own class. Doubtless because of the obstacles that on 
 every side hindered either explanation or remedy for the 
 evils he condemned, Tolstoy's point of view shifted even 
 as he sought his answer. The book began with the inquiry : 
 What shall we rich men do, in order, first, to remove our- 
 selves from an intolerable position ; and, equally important, 
 to relieve those who are victims of our oppression? But 
 after vain strivings of thought, the writer finds in the end 
 a remedy that at best is but a palliative for his own stricken 
 conscience and perhaps for the consciences of those others 
 of his class whom Tolstoy believes the oppressors. In fact, 
 the manner in which Tolstoy dwells on the benefits to him 
 of his new life of physical labor,-^ only goes to show how 
 extremely personal his solution really is. Both answers are 
 of the same nature. And whatever value they may have 
 had to him, they were woefully inadequate as practical 
 solutions of the real problem of poverty. 
 
 For this inadequacy there were many reasons. Tolstoy, 
 at the time of writing What Shall We Do Then?, and in 
 
 20 Aylmer Maude, Life of Tolstoy (New York, Dodd, Mead and 
 Co.), ii, 326, 327. 
 
 21 What Shall We Do Then?, p. 300.
 
 188 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 fact throughout his life, was subject to all the limitations 
 of a man of over-active mentality and over-abundant sym- 
 pathies. He was in truth a poet rather than an analyst. 
 In his ardor, he plunged into the task of solving problems 
 without stopping to classify his experiences or define his 
 terms. And although he condemned Herbert Spencer for 
 the use of the "standard of observation,"-- his works show 
 that it was practically the only standard that he himself 
 attempted to apply. The things he met with in his daily 
 life were the things that moved him to thought and inquiry. 
 He was typically Slavic in temperament; his sympathies 
 were too often predominant in his reasoning. 
 
 It was no wonder, then, that in his first attempts to ex- 
 plain social phenomena he confused the figurative and 
 literal meaning of terms; that he challenged the division 
 of the elements of production made by economists without 
 pausing to learn the economic definition of ' ' land. " " labor, ' ' 
 or "capital;"-^ that he failed to comprehend the scientific 
 significance of the phrase division of labor r'^ that he saw 
 money in only one of its aspects ; in short, that he displayed 
 at times a weakness as an analyst that in part vitiated clear 
 thinking and made his task of finding the truth the more 
 difficult. 
 
 But an even greater limitation lay in the fact that his 
 views on political economy were affected by his manifold 
 opinions on other subjects. Typifying a nation at the 
 stage where so many problems have rushed simultaneously 
 to the fore, he was hedged about on all sides by personal 
 beliefs and prejudices, which he raised to the level of truths 
 of universal acceptance. Some of his convictions were per- 
 sonal; some were national; some were universal. A knowl- 
 edge of them aids greatly in an interpretation of his writ- 
 ings. 
 
 22 What Shall We Do Then?, p. 245. 
 
 23 Ibid., p. 101. 
 2* Ibid., p. 249.
 
 1912] Drunj: Tolstoifs '' What Shall We Do Then?" 189 
 
 In religion he was a "non-resistant;" in political beliefs, 
 he was a "theoretical anarchist." Combined, these two 
 ideas explain his aversion to what he sums up in the one 
 term violence. This accounts for the recurrence of this 
 expression throughout Tolstoy's works. Every restrictive 
 action of the government he looked upon as an infringement 
 of personal rights. His was the extreme individualism, the 
 reactionary spirit, always found in communities where, as 
 in Russia, governmental restrictions have become oppressive. 
 Unable to discern, as in a measure no one can, the distinc- 
 tion between things of evil maintained only by arbitrary 
 force of the police or army, and institutions and conventions 
 developed through the needs of society, Tolstoy opposed all 
 artificial bonds of government. Taxes he condemned, not 
 only because they were unjust or exorbitant, but also be- 
 cause in any form they were to him a tribute exacted 
 through the "threat to kill."-^ 
 
 Akin to his governmental beliefs was his view of the 
 simple life. This he inherited largely from Rousseau, whom 
 he had read extensively, and from Syutaev, the peasant 
 writer who is mentioned in WJiat Shall We Do Thenf^^ 
 Opposing most "division of labor," Tolstoy carried his in- 
 dividualism to an almost unheard of extreme. To all in- 
 tents and purposes, he advocated a return to primitive 
 society. Thus to him, as to Syutaev,-' trade, traffic, pro- 
 fessional engagements and the like were immoral. To him 
 the great city was an abnormality. To him the natural and 
 productive work of man was physical labor. Inevitably this 
 attitude of the mental anchorite restricted Tolstoy in his 
 search for truth. It caused him to overlook the need of 
 complexity that results from the growth of the social order. 
 Such an extremist was Tolstoy in this regard that Chester- 
 ton, contrasting him with the great American poet of nature, 
 
 25 7&id., p. 142. 
 
 26 76td., p. 78. 
 
 27 Stepniak, The Sussian Peasantry (London, George Koutledge 
 and Sons, 1905), p. 599.
 
 190 Universitij of California Prize Essays [Vol, 1 
 
 said with truth : ' ' Whitman returns to Nature by seeing how 
 much of it he can accept ; Tolstoy by seeing how much of it 
 he can reject."^* 
 
 Tolstoy's conception of science and art was narrowed 
 in much the same way. The condemnation of these two 
 branches of human activity that we find in What Shall We 
 Do Then? assumes a modified aspect when viewed in 
 the light of his many other utterances, but there still is 
 lacking a broad comprehension of the subject, resulting in- 
 evitably from his extreme doctrine of simplicity. 
 
 "True science," he said, "consists in finding out what 
 we should believe, and what not — in finding out how the 
 aggregate life of men ought to be arranged, and how 
 not."^® And, similarly, it w^as Tolstoy's belief that "art 
 should be simple and clear, it should be accessible to all 
 men, it should unite men instead of dividing them. ' '^° This 
 ideal of the direct usefulness of art and science to mankind 
 he kept constantly before him. He had little sympathy 
 with the theory of "art for art's sake. "^^ The works of 
 other writers he judged more by their "moral founda- 
 tions"^- than by their literary style. While admitting the 
 existence of ' ' true science and true art, ' '^^ he condemned as 
 false the position held by many of those devoted to such 
 activities, maintaining that these persons do not fulfil their 
 obligations to humanity, but live the ' ' life of a drone, ' '^* con- 
 tributing nothing to society. The true artist, he contends, 
 is he who sustains his life by the work of his hands, and 
 "deprives himself of hours of rest and sleep, in order to 
 
 28 Varied Types (New York, Dodd, Mead and Co., 1903), p. 128. 
 
 20 What is Art?, translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, Estes, 1905), 
 p. 338. 
 
 30 George E. Noyes, "Tolstoy as a Man of Letters," University of 
 California Chronicle, vol. xiii, no. 2 (1911), p. 161. 
 
 31 Tolstoy, Collected Articles, translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, 
 Estes, 1905), p. 420. 
 
 32 Noyes, Tolstoy as a Man of Letters, p. 147. 
 
 33 Tolstoy, Collected Articles, p. 419. 
 s*Ibid., p. 418.
 
 1912] Drurij: Tolstoy's ''What Shall We Do Then?" 191 
 
 create in the sphere of the mind and the imagination."^^ 
 Thus should he prove his calling. "The fruits of true 
 science and true art are the fruits of sacrifice, and not the 
 fruits of certain mental prerogatives."^" Such is Tolstoy's 
 view. 
 
 The theory thus laid down by the Russian philosopher, 
 leaving aside his undue exaltation of physical labor, is un- 
 doubtedly sound as a general proposition. It is only in his 
 application of it that we find the ideal restricted and nar- 
 rowed. In What Shall We Do Then?, for instance, we find 
 our author strangely inconsistent on this very subject. He 
 sets as the standard of art and science a willing acceptance 
 by those for whom the activities are being carried on, 
 namely, by all the members of society. Undoubtedly, there 
 should be such a general test ; yet, while condemning science 
 as the charletan of privilege and art as a parasite "dining 
 without labor, "^'^ Tolstoy unhesitatingly forms his judg- 
 ment from a personal rather than from a general standard. 
 
 Into many such inconsistences was Tolstoy led by his 
 attempt to reconcile all his extreme beliefs. As an indi- 
 vidualist, he was opposed to most of the collective activities 
 of society; as one of the "Cult of Simplicity, "^^ he rejected 
 them as unnatural. Yet, in order to be true to these and 
 other ideals, he necessarily restricted his point of view in 
 dealing with such a far-reaching question as that of poverty. 
 
 This is the main reason why Tolstoy failed to advance 
 a satisfactory solution in What Shall We Do Then? We 
 cannot but feel that his remedy was largely personal; that 
 he was hampered by his prejudices and beliefs ; that he tried 
 to placate his conscience while still striving for the truth. 
 He satisfied merely his own misgivings. For the world the 
 real problem remained. 
 
 35 Ibid. 
 
 36 Ibid. 
 
 37 What Shall We Do Then?, p. 214. 
 
 38 Gilbert K. Chesterton, Varied Types, p. 128.
 
 192 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 But there is no need to stop with What Shall We Do 
 Then? The real service of its author lay in the fact that 
 in it he drew attention so forcibly to the fact that there 
 exists a problem of poverty. Tolstoy, as we have noted, 
 did not claim to be the author of any particular "teach- 
 ing." His entire aim, as stated by himself, was to find the 
 truth. In his quest for the true solution of the problem of 
 poverty he was subject to many hindrances. He did not 
 see the issue clearly. He did not solve the problem in the 
 work we have been considering. But he saw many truths 
 surrounded it, and thus opened the way to sounder con- 
 clusions and clearer thought. 
 
 Ill 
 
 What was the real problem of poverty which Tolstoy 
 was trying to solve? 
 
 Life is a thing of great complexity. Problems seldom 
 come singly; and many a searcher for causes has lost him- 
 self in the vast labyrinth of human relations. Tolstoy him- 
 self found this true in writing What Shall We Do Then? 
 Personal limitations hampered him on every side. He was 
 inexperienced in defining terms and classifying phenomena. 
 He approached the subject emotionally, and this constantly 
 led him astray. When he saw the people hedged in by the 
 different kinds of Russian police, by the uryadniks, isprav- 
 niks, and stanavoys, he cried out against what he called the 
 violence of any form of government. When he found that 
 for the loan of a few kopeks the peasantry were being 
 charged enormous interest by the village usurers, the 
 kulaks, he denounced indignantly the use of money itself, 
 and condemned it as a thing of evil. All this made it diffi- 
 cult for Tolstoy to observe conditions calmly, and obstructed 
 his search for truth. 
 
 But let us continue the quest with Tolstoy. In doing 
 this, let us make use of some of his observations among the 
 poor of I\Ioscow. Notice that he found two main classes:
 
 1912] Drunj: Tolstoy's " ^Vhat Shall We Do Then?" 193 
 
 those wlio had been forced into their position by oppression 
 or hardship, and had come "to make a living in the city ;"^" 
 and, on the other hand, those who were responsible for their 
 own downfall, and who could be helped only by "changing 
 tlieir world conception, "*° their mental attitude. Thus 
 might the poor, not only in Russia, but everywhere, roughly 
 be classified. There are first tlie involuntary poor, and, 
 second, the more or less "voluntary" paupers. There are 
 those who are in want because of conditions over which they 
 have no control, and, on the other hand, those who are them- 
 selves responsible for their destitution. 
 
 It is with the "voluntary" poor that we will first con- 
 cern ourselves. Neither in Russia nor elsewhere can the 
 prevalence of these be determined with any accuracy, for, 
 whatever its reason, poverty presents itself generally in the 
 same aspects. It may indeed be traceable in many instances 
 to mental disease, to refusal as well as to inability to work. 
 But in all probability the state of those so affected was in- 
 duced by a preceding stage of involuntary poverty. Those 
 who show little desire to support themselves, who, as the 
 charity workers say, are "labor-shy," are undoubtedly in 
 a transitional period. Vice, crime and slothfulness are as 
 much the result of privation as they are the cause of pov- 
 erty. These evils can be dealt with effectively by the social 
 reformer only after the pressure has been removed that has 
 forced a steadily increasing number into the involuntary 
 class. It is safe to conclude that among the indigent of 
 every nation those wilfully in the condition pictured by 
 Tolstoy are a negligible quantity. The sociologist tells us 
 that the great class to be reckoned with comprises those to 
 whom the present organization of society has denied the op- 
 portunity of turning their labor to tlieir own account. The 
 great majority are the involuntary poor. 
 
 39 What SJwll We Do Then?, p. 70. 
 
 40 Ibid., p.40.
 
 194 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 That Tolstoy saw this was manifest, since he devoted his 
 attention, not to the reasons for depravity and voluntary 
 poverty — he assumed that these were the outcroppings of 
 a perverted social order — but to the question of the unem- 
 ployed, and of the "exploitation of labor." 
 
 The real problem of poverty is the problem of involun- 
 tary poverty. It is the problem of those who produce 
 wealth, and who do not secure an equitable share of it. 
 It is the problem of those who are able and willing to sup- 
 port themselves, but who are not given a fair opportunity 
 to do so. Everywhere, this is the great and all-important 
 question. And the conclusion must come, even as it did to 
 Tolstoy, that the trouble lies in the improper and imperfect 
 distribution of the products of labor; in his words, in 
 ''labor's exploitation." 
 
 Of course, modern society does not accept, nor does it 
 need to accept, Tolstoy's narrow definition of lahor. Phys- 
 ical exertion was necessary to Tolstoy's peace of mind. 
 Therefore he declared it indispensable to everyone. But 
 as respects the world at large, he is nearer right when he 
 says that the division of labor is "regular, only when the 
 special activity of a man is so necessary to men that they, 
 asking him to serve them, themselves offer to support him 
 for what he will do for them. ' '*^ Even here his conclusion 
 is impaired by his restricted idea that physical labor, the 
 producing of material things, is the only form of real work. 
 
 The mutual relations of any community have this basis : 
 that there shall be an interchange of the results of the ef- 
 forts of all the members thereof. This arrangement is recog- 
 nized as a means of securing greater efficiency in specialized 
 callings. A writer, an artist, may minister to no direct 
 physical want, but under many conditions either is as much 
 a worker as a tiller of the soil. If an arbitrary power forces 
 the productions of these individuals upon the people, there 
 is just cause for complaint. This is what Tolstoy evidently 
 
 ••1 Ibid., p. 245.
 
 1912] Drurij: Tolstoifs '' What Shall We Do Then?" 195 
 
 had in mind when he attacked art and literature; this is 
 what clouded his vision on the subject. But if the com- 
 munity's members freely exchange the products of their 
 labor for the results, tangible or intangible, of the efforts 
 of others, it is not a question of "support" of one by the 
 other ; it is a question of mutual interchange. For all nor- 
 mal callings there is ample room in the well ordered com- 
 munity. 
 
 Yet it goes without saying that this ideal will lead inevit- 
 ably to inequalities of society. With these the problem of 
 poverty does not concern itself. There have been theorists 
 in the past, builders of Utopias, who have insisted upon a 
 rigid, equal distribution of the things upon the earth ; they 
 were the communists, whose propaganda has been generally 
 discredited as being impracticable, unprogre&sive, and out 
 of harmony with the modern social order. The problem of 
 today involves no violation of the natural laws which pro- 
 duce in some individuals greater aptitudes and capabilities, 
 characteristics which normally should receive a reward, 
 either in riches or renoAvn, commensurate with services ren- 
 dered to society. This is the true democracy — the "saving 
 remnant ' ' may be recognized today, as well as the principle 
 of the "unsound majority," but we may still follow "saints 
 and sages" in seeking "whatsoever things are just."*^ 
 Society today concerns itself, not with an equal, but with 
 an equitable, distribution of the bounties of nature and the 
 fruits of labor. 
 
 Poverty is the lack of wealth. Wealth is the product of 
 labor applied to natural materials. "In the sweat of thy 
 face shalt thou eat bread" is but an expression of the nor- 
 mal law that he who labors should secure the product of 
 his effort. It is for the community to decide by its volun- 
 tary acceptance whether the activity of a given individual 
 is to be recompensed as labor. It is for the community to 
 decide the value of that activity. And it is with the 
 
 •*■- Matthew Arnold, Discourses in America (New York, Macmillan, 
 1902), p. 15.
 
 196 U niversity of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 agencies which pervert this natural lavr, which hamper the 
 distribution of wealth as the reward of labor, that we must 
 concern ourselves if v."e are to find the true problem of pov- 
 erty. Such agencies are responsible for unnatural inequali- 
 ties of society. 
 
 Thus the real question before Tolstoy becomes apparent. 
 It does not concern itself with voluntary poverty. It has 
 not to do with inevitable inequalities of society. It relates 
 primarily to involuntary poverty, arising from factitious 
 and unnatural causes. The fundamental problem is one of 
 removing the agencies that are responsible for such abnor- 
 malities. 
 
 Turning now to the Land of the Tsar : What is re- 
 sponsible for the unnatural inequalities shown in What 
 Shall We Do Then? To find the causes for the perversion 
 of Russian society, we may rely upon Tolstoy 's observations, 
 if not always upon his conclusions. 
 
 Tolstoy saw three agencies which above all others he 
 arraigned as the causes, on the one hand, of demoralizing 
 wealth, and, on the other, of degrading poverty. In his 
 forceful and characteristic way he likened them to three 
 screws holding down a plank over the necks of the people, 
 keeping them in bondage.*^ The first screw was personal 
 enslavement by threat of execution; the second and third 
 typified impersonal slavery — the depriving of the people 
 of their land, and the demand for "monetary tokens which 
 they do not have."** Again and again the Avriter attacks 
 this trio of evils. "The slavery of our time," he declares, 
 "is produced by militarism, appropriation of land, and the 
 exaction of money. "*^ These are the three agencies. Let 
 us consider them in this order: first, the despotism of the 
 government or what Tolstoy sums up in the one term vio- 
 lence; second, money; and, third land monopoly. 
 
 « What Shall We Do Then?, p. 141. 
 ** Ibid., p. 142. 
 *3 Ibid., p. 168.
 
 1912J Drurij: Tolstoifs " What Shall We Do Then?" 197 
 
 How is the problem of involuntary poverty in Russia 
 affected by the element of governmental "violence"? As 
 far as Tolstoj^'s anarchistic views are concerned, we may 
 dismiss the consideration, for we have seen that in this re- 
 gard he was an extremist ; but in so far as the term refers 
 to despotism of the ruling powers it is well to consider it. 
 
 In Russia, this "violence" manifests itself in various 
 forms. Sometimes it takes the guise of militarism, some- 
 times that of exorbitant taxes. These two are related, as it 
 is undoubtedly the cost of the restrictive policy of the gov- 
 ernment that weighs down the peasantry. The blight of 
 absolutism, moreover, affects the material prosperity of the 
 people, both in the villages and in the cities, because of the 
 very fact that it stifles political development and social 
 betterment. Democratic reforms are badly needed in 
 Russia. The autocratic rule of the Tsar and of the nobles 
 helps to maintain an iniquitous and unnatural economic 
 structure. This is inevitable, since the privileged classes of 
 Russia are the officials.**^ In this respect, particularly, des- 
 potism is a cause of poverty. But the passing of political 
 power into the hands of the people would not necessarily 
 bring satisfactory economic conditions. It would at most 
 be only a step in that direction. We have not here the real 
 basis of the problem of poverty. 
 
 Let us take Tolstoy's second cause. We have seen al- 
 ready how a vague defining of terms and an incomplete 
 grasping of economic facts affected his views on this ques- 
 tion of money. We may disregard as immature and un- 
 sound his conclusion that money itself is a thing of evil, 
 just as we may discard his notion that money represented, 
 at all times, the exploitation of labor. For it is obvious that 
 money commands labor, as he noted, not because it is an 
 instrument of oppression, but because it represents wealth, 
 the end of labor. The evils deplored are due, not to the 
 nature of money, but to the imperfect distribution of wealth. 
 
 46 Geoffrey Drage, Russian Affairs (Lornlon, .John Mvirray, 1904), 
 p. 34.
 
 198 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 Tolstoy speaks of oppression of the people through the ' ' de- 
 mand for monetary tokens, which they did not have. "^'^ 
 This refers to both taxes and rent. So far as it relates to 
 an inadequate or inflexible currency, as was really the 
 trouble with the Fijians whose history is cited in What 
 Shall We Do ThenP^ the problem may be aggravated there- 
 by. For it is generally the poor w^ho suffer most from an 
 unsound monetary system. In a measure, Tolstoy had been 
 borne out in this by commentators who have noted the in- 
 creased hardships of the peasants in Russia, coincident with 
 their increasing use of money.*'* But this does not lie at 
 the bottom of the evil of poverty. In regard to taxes, if 
 the money taken is more than the people should equitably 
 pay, we have a clear case of governmental oppression ; and 
 in the instance of rent, the evil is not due to money, or the 
 lack of it, but to the institution that exacts rent — to land- 
 lordism, which we shall consider presently. It is not money 
 that in Russia is the main cause of poverty. 
 
 There remains but the third cause. It is land monopoly. 
 This is a question fraught with significance, for its roots 
 extend far into the history of the Slavic peoples. 
 
 That Tolstoy realized the bearing of the land question 
 upon the problem in his country is evident. At first he 
 saw this dimly, but as his researches deepened and his views 
 broadened, he gained a clearer vision. Even in What Shall 
 We Do Thenf he shows appreciation of the significance of 
 this question, when he tells, in his characteristic way, how 
 he "took everything necessary away from the village 
 dwellers and transferred it all to the city. "^° Tolstoy may 
 or may not have read Carlyle's bitter paragraph in his 
 French Revolution, describing "a widow gathering nettles 
 
 *- What Shall We Do Then?, p. 142. 
 4s Ibid., pp. Ill ff. 
 
 49 Gerhart von Schulze-Gaevernitz, VolJcswirtschaftliche Studien 
 aus Bussland (Leipzig, Dunker unci Humblot, 1899), p. 387; Step- 
 niak, llie Eussian Peasantry, p. 35. 
 
 50 What Shall We Do Then ?, p. 77.
 
 1912] Drury: Tolstoy's "What Shall We Do Thenf" 199 
 
 for her children's dinner," and ''the perfumed seigneur, 
 delicately lounging in the Oeil-de-Boef, who by the alchemy 
 of rent extracted from her the third nettle, "^^ but we can 
 see that he knew how this same alchemy of rent enabled 
 him to take the products of his peasant neighbors, without 
 return beyond permission to live on the land. Yet in his 
 conscience he believed that they had a better title than he. 
 For Tolstoy, after his awakening, following his participa- 
 tion in the taking of the census at Moscow, returned abso- 
 lutely to the ancient Slavic condition that the land justly 
 belongs to the person who tills it. 
 
 Tolstoy's denunciation of money and government, in- 
 sisted on in his earlier writings, was almost lost sight of 
 later when he appealed to the customs and traditions of 
 his race regarding land tenure. His views on the land 
 question developed gradually, but surely. It was after his 
 return to Yasnaya Poliana, after his sojourn in Moscow, 
 that his eyes were opened and for the first time he fully 
 sensed the miseries of his countrymen. He saw the sturdy 
 muzhiks oppressed and disinherited by the seigneurs who 
 took the land." preyed upon by the kulaks,^^ flogged and 
 practically made bond servants^* for non-payment of exor- 
 bitant taxes." He saw the utter poverty of the husband- 
 men, compelled to sit on their ''cats' plots''^" whilst the 
 enormous estates of the nobility lay in waste about them." 
 He saw but an insincere attempt, on the part of a feeble 
 autocracy, to effect a more equitable distribution of the 
 
 51 French Revolution (London, J. M. Dent and Co., 1908), i, 184. 
 
 52 The Russian Peasantry, pp. 107, 110 ff. 
 
 55 Ibid., pp. 55 ff., 83, 84; Wolf von Schierbrand, Russia, her 
 Strength and Weakness (New York, G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1904), 
 p. 120. 
 
 5* C. Lehmann und Parvus, Das hungernde Russland (Stuttgart, 
 J. H. W. Dietz, 1900), p. 455. 
 
 ^5 Ibid., p. 447; The Rus.sian Peasantry, pp. 43, 44; Russia, her 
 Strength and Weakness, p. 132. 
 
 56 The Russian Peasantry, p. 99. 
 
 57 Ibid.
 
 200 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 land.^^ One year he learned that one-fourth of the people 
 starved in the villages of the Samara province, yet at that 
 very time millions of pods of grain were exported from that 
 province by the landlords.^" He knew that this grain was 
 raised by the labor of peasants. Tolstoy must have learned, 
 moreover, that less than 21 per cent of the land was being 
 cultivated in European Russia ;®° that if all the Russian 
 fields were cultivated in the manner of those of Great 
 Britain, the product, instead of being 650 millions of 
 hecoliters of corn annually, would be about five millards, 
 sufficient to feed a population of 500 million souls.®^ 
 
 Throughout the nation he saw outrageous plundering of 
 the public domain being carried on. In two provinces 
 alone, one million dessiatins, or 2,700,000 acres, were appro- 
 priated by the nobility and inferior functionaries.^^ It 
 was the same in other provinces. He witnessed the natives 
 being torn from their "little mother," the land, and 
 through the kahala, or "winter contracts,"*'^ into which 
 they were coerced by dire need, pressed irretrievably into 
 the ranks of the hatraki, the Russian tramps, or into those 
 of the landless proletariat.^* 
 
 Tolstoy's sensitive soul quivered as he observed the 
 terrible results of this ruthless eviction. Whereas under 
 serfdom the agricultural laborers had given only three days 
 a week to the cultivation of their masters' estates,^^ after 
 they were expelled from the fields, supposedly "freed," 
 they were driven by the goad of want into laborious occupa- 
 tions almost bevond human endurance.*'*' Tolstoy saw the 
 
 58 2716 Eiissia7i Peasantry, p. 100. 
 BO/feifZ., p. 182. 
 oolhid., p. 99. 
 
 61 Elisee Reclus, The Earth and its Inhabitants, edited by E. G. 
 Kavenstein (New York, Appleton, 1898), v, 458. 
 
 62 I'he Russian Peasantry, p. 180. 
 6^ Ibid., p. 51. 
 
 64 Ibid., p. 268. 
 
 65 Ibid., p. 41 ; Riissian Affairs, p. 88. 
 
 66 The Eitssian Peasantry, p. 265.
 
 1912] Drurij: Tolstoifs ''What Shall We Do Thenf" 201 
 
 mir, the ancient and traditional village commune of his 
 people, which had borne so proud and honorable a part in 
 the life of the nation, degraded, and in some instances 
 almost extirpated.**^ He saw the death rate in thirteen 
 provinces reach sixty-two a year per thousand. "'* Through- 
 out the nation the rural death rate hovered continually 
 about the abnormal figure of thirty-three per one thou- 
 sand,**** while the infant mortality w^ent as high as 263 in 
 a thousand. '^° It is conceded that this would long ago have 
 dejoopulated the country, were it not for an equally 
 abnormal birth rate.^^ Tolstoy could not help seeing all 
 this, and he voiced a vigorous protest. He commented 
 indignantly on how^ "the working people live in constant 
 need, ignorance, slavery, and contempt of all those whom 
 they dress, feed, provide for and serve." 
 
 "The land," he exclaimed, "is taken away from them 
 by those who do not work upon it ; thus to gain his sus- 
 tenance from it, a laborer must do everything which the 
 owners of the land demand of him. ' '"- It was thus that he 
 recognized the truth so forcefully expressed in Stepniak's 
 declaration: "With a nation of hereditary husbandmen the 
 land question is the question of life and death."" 
 
 Many Russian w^riters have united with Tolstoy in tell- 
 ing of their people's dependence upon the land. This idea 
 is prominent in the works of Uspensky, notably in his 
 Ivan Afanasiev;''* it is dealt with by Yanson,'^ Orlov,^** and 
 
 67 Ibid., p. 102. 
 G8 Ibid., p. 87. 
 
 69 Russian Affairs, p. 81. 
 
 70 The Bussian Year Boole, edited by Howard P. Kennard (Lon- 
 don, Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1911), p. 35. 
 
 71 The Bussian Peasantry, p. 87; Bussian Affairs, p. 81. 
 
 72 Tolstoy, The Only Means, in Miscellaneous Letters and Essays, 
 translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, Estes, 1905), p. 241. 
 
 73 The Bussian Peasantry, p. 625. 
 Tilbid., p. 244. 
 
 '5 Ibid., p. 73. 
 ■^albid., p. 119.
 
 202 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 Prince Vasilchikov.'" It is insisted upon as all important 
 in the works of Stepniak. The significance of the land 
 question is given especial prominence in this writer's volume 
 entitled The Russian Peasantry. In this work he says : 
 
 "In Eussia, until the 'economic progress' of the last qviarter 
 century turned millions of our peasants into landless proletarians, they 
 were all landowners. Even the scourge of serfdom could not depose 
 them from this dignity. The serfs, who gratuitously tilled the 
 manorial land, had each of them freehold land which they cultivated 
 on their own account. ' '^s 
 
 Indeed, in this regard, Professor Enghelhardt, in his 
 Letters from a Village, tells of this tradition being so strong 
 that many of the former seigneurs learned only from the 
 Act of Emancipation of 1861 that the land on which these 
 peasants dwelt belonged to the nobility.'''* It is also narrated 
 by Stepniak how, when serfdom was first introduced in 
 Eussia, the newly enslaved peasants found less difficulty 
 in realizing the fact of their slavery than in understand- 
 ing a law which allotted the land to those by whom it was 
 not tilled. Greater than their love of freedom was their love 
 of the land. ''My vashi, zemlia nasha!" they cried to their 
 masters, and the saying rings through Russian agrarian 
 history: "We are yours, dut the land is ours!''^^ 
 
 The land question, then, became in the mind of Tolstoy, 
 as it was in that of many of his contemporaries, the fore- 
 most problem confronting Russia.®^ It was here that 
 Tolstoy finally decided that he must find his remedy. He 
 had striven long, and had been brought to the truth by 
 considerations truly Russian in their nature. ' ' Back to the 
 Land" was the burden of his cry. Here was the real cause 
 of the misery of his people — exclusion from the land. At 
 last he saw the true problem of poverty. 
 
 "^ 'J'he Eussian Peasantry, p. 11. 
 
 78 Ibid., p. 125. 
 
 79 Ibid., pp. 125, 126. 
 »o Ibid., p. 12. 
 
 81 Leo Wiener, Life of Leo Tolstoy (Boston, Estes, 1905), p. 302.
 
 1912] Drunj: Tolstoifs " What Shall We Do Then?" 203 
 
 In this, as in other things, Tolstoy proved an extremist. 
 One reason for his awakened interest in the land question 
 was his well-known belief as to the immorality and un- 
 naturalness of all life in cities. But whatever else impelled 
 him, his foremost reason was the absolute justice of allow- 
 ing the people access to the means of sustenance of w'hich 
 they had been robbed. The history of the Russian people 
 shows that there is ingrained in the character of the race 
 a peculiar attachment to the soil, which made their wrong 
 the harder to bear, when they were shut out from it. Their 
 serfdom of feudal days was abolished; but in a new form, 
 more aggravated because it was impersonal, their slavery 
 still remained. Not even by fleeing to the cities could they 
 escape. Their masters were the landlords. 
 
 In our o^\-n country, where only a little over one-third 
 of our workers are engaged in agriculture,*- it is rather 
 difficult for us to comprehend fully the misery caused by 
 land monopoly in Russia. There, from seventy-five to 
 eighty-two persons out of every hundred still depend for 
 their livelihood upon the tilling of the soil.^^ The only 
 other nation in which agriculture is to any degree as preva- 
 lent as in Russia, is Ireland. Ireland, too, has been racked 
 for centuries by agrarian evils.^* It stands to reason that 
 similar conditions should produce similar ills. It stands 
 to reason that people will be driven into the squalor and 
 filth of cities; it stands to reason that rich men will con- 
 tinue in idleness and luxury, absorbing the product of 
 others' labor, when any nation upholds a system under 
 which those in power can charge their fellowmen, through 
 rent, for the privilege of earning their bread. 
 
 In a nation where the main industries are those of manu- 
 facturing and commerce, some may claim that the question 
 
 S2 statesman's Year Book, edited by J. Scott Keltie (London, 
 Macmillan and Co., 1911), p. 300. 
 
 83 Russian Year Book, p. 33. 
 
 84 Henry George, The Land Question (New York, Doubleday, Page 
 and Co., 1904), p. 23.
 
 204 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 of poverty, the question of unemployment, is affected more 
 directly by laws of the supply and demand of labor, by 
 the control of machinery, by industrial combination, and 
 by like circumstances, than it is affected by monopoly of 
 land. But in a country where the main pursuit is agri- 
 culture, "with a nation of hereditary husbandmen," we 
 may well declare with Stepniak, "the land question is the 
 question of life and death. "®^ 
 
 In Russia, especially, the land question is at the bottom 
 of the problem of poverty. 
 
 IV 
 
 During the latter half of the nineteenth century, three 
 great thinkers were concerned especially wuth the question 
 of poverty. They were Count Leo Tolstoy, Victor Hugo 
 and Henry George. All saw the problem more or less 
 clearly and, in the end, all decided that the solution lay in 
 a simple remedy. 
 
 Tolstoy was a nobleman, Hugo was of the bourgeoisie, 
 but George had known what it was to live in terrible 
 poverty. Here were the three scales of social organization 
 represented intellectually by men engaged independently 
 in the same investigation of the same problem. Their con- 
 clusions are necessarily important, but the real significance 
 of these is that they are practically identical. Viewed 
 from three distinct standpoints, a proposition so settled 
 merits investigation. When the conclusions of three great 
 inquirers into the problem of poverty agree, we may well 
 be led to their belief that in the solution of the land ques- 
 tion lies, in great part, the settlement of the problem. 
 
 Tolstoy the Russian, Hugo the Frenchman, George the 
 American — these were the men who, from different social 
 levels, from different reasoning and from different circum- 
 stances arrived at the conclusion that involuntary poverty 
 
 80 The Bussian Peasantry, p. 625.
 
 1912] Drury: Tolstoy's " What Shall We Do Then?" 205 
 
 may be cured and that an equitable adjustment of the land 
 question is the remedy. 
 
 Tolstoy's growth of interest in the problem as a Russian 
 question has been outlined already. Let us turn to the con- 
 nection of Victor Hugo with the investigation of poverty. 
 
 Les Miserahles was published in 1862. If the opening 
 chapters of What Shall We Do Then? are a survey of the 
 conditions among the Russian poor, Les Miserahles depicts 
 the life of the poverty-stricken of France. Although it is 
 a work of fiction, although Hugo scorned that school of 
 "realists" which had Zola at its head,*® yet the picture 
 drawn is true to life. The book has well been termed the 
 "epic of poverty." Here was Hugo's investigation of the 
 subject, and in the work, although it may be essentially a 
 melodrama, he throws out suggestions from time to time as 
 to the solution of the problem. 
 
 "Democratize property," he says, "not by abolishing, 
 but by universalizing it, in such a way that every citizen 
 without exception may be a proprietor — an easier thing 
 than it is believed to be ; in two words, learn to produce 
 wealth and learn to distribute it, and you shall have 
 material grandeur and moral grandeur combined."^" 
 
 The great Frenchman does not explicitly state how this 
 adjustment of the unequal distribution of wealth may be 
 attained, but he does enunciate in this respect an important 
 theory : ' ' By good distribution we must understand not 
 equal distribution, but equitable distribution. The highest 
 equality is equity. "^^ This is significant, for both Tolstoy 
 and Henry George, coming after Hugo, declared for such 
 equitable distribution, rather than an equal division of 
 wealth. This latter arrangement they regarded as neither 
 practicable nor desirable. 
 
 86 Alfred Barbou, Victor Hugo, His Life and Wor]<:s, translated by 
 Frances A. Shaw (Chicago, S. C. Griggs and Co., 1881), p. 197 ff. 
 
 87 Les Miserahles, translated by Charles E. Wilbour (New York, 
 A. L. Burt), ii, 116. 
 
 88 Ibid., ii, 114.
 
 206 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 It was almost twenty years after the appearance of 
 Les Miser ahles, however, that Victor Hugo most forcibly 
 enunciated his opinions upon the land question. In a dis- 
 course at the Chateau d'Eau for the benefit of the Work- 
 man's Congress at Marseilles, in 1879, he said: "The only 
 question at this hour is the labor question. It is terrible, 
 but it is simple; it is the question of those who have and 
 those who have not. The second of these two terms must 
 vanish. . . . Behold ! You have a people and you have a 
 world ! The people is disinherited, the world is desert ; 
 give one to the other and you make both happy. To whom- 
 soever wishes a field, say, 'Take it.' The earth is yours, 
 cultivate it. "^^ Discounting the rhetoric of this speech, it 
 can still be seen that with Hugo the labor question was the 
 land question, and the solution of the land question implied 
 to him the remedy for involuntary poverty. 
 
 The poet viewed with extreme optimism the future of 
 mankind as a result of the solution of the land question. 
 "All the earth belongs to all men," he proclaimed. "There 
 will no longer be any unfortunate save those who persist 
 in their resolve to do nothing, and these will grow less in 
 number, thanks to the salutary teachings that will be given 
 them. The future appears radiant because it is impossible 
 for the immense conflict and labor of past ages to remain 
 eternally unproductive. ' "*" 
 
 These words, prophesying the dawn of a fairer day for 
 humanity, were uttered in 1879. In that year was published 
 a notable book, Progress and Poverty. This was the master- 
 work of Henry George, whose investigation of the great 
 question merits careful examination. For not only did 
 George declare with Hugo that the making of every citizen 
 a proprietor is an "easier task than it may be supposed," 
 but he did what the poet had not attempted — he came 
 forward with a specific plan to accomplish this, the uni- 
 
 8» Barbou, Victor Bugo, pp. 191, 192. 
 90 Ibid., p. 196.
 
 1912] Drunj: Tolstoy's '' ^Y]lat Shall We Do Then?" 207 
 
 versal application of which he declared would dissolve the ' 
 heavy cloud of poverty lowering over modern civilization. 
 His remedy was stated in a simple, direct manner, yet 
 explicitly. George saw conditions and stated facts more 
 exactly than the other two thinkers. For Henry George 
 was a scientist, just as Hugo was essentially a poet and 
 Tolstoy a moralist philosopher. 
 
 In dire poverty in the city of San Francisco, unable to 
 get work, George was forced by necessity to a consideration 
 of this problem. Tolstoy and Hugo in pity and compas- 
 sion, George in fierce question — all took up the solution of 
 the great economic evil. 
 
 "Why," asked Plenry George, "am I refused the right 
 to employment, despite my willingness to work? Why, 
 while our country grows in material progress, does poverty 
 appear to increase likewise?" As the Russian count 
 queried, "What shall we rich men do?", so the American 
 worker demanded, ' ' What are we poor men to do ? " 
 
 His answer to that question was Progress and Poverty. 
 AVlien he had risen in the social scale through his own 
 irresistible genius, he set about the writing of this book. 
 It was published in 1879. Soon afterward, he removed to 
 New York City, where he became a leader and a power for 
 good. Nevertheless, he was the antithesis of the demagogue, 
 usually pictured as the labor leader. At a great public 
 meeting while he was a candidate for mayor, he was asked : 
 "Are you for the working man?" He realized the serious 
 import of the question. "No!" said he gravely, "I am 
 for Man!"®^ Such was Henry George. 
 
 In one of his many forceful examples, this economist 
 says : ' ' Place one hundred men on an island from which 
 there is no escape, and whether you make one of these men 
 the absolute owner of the other ninety-nine, or the absolute 
 owner of the soil of the island, will make no difference 
 
 91 Louis F. Post, The Prophet of San Francisco (Chicago, L. S. 
 Dickey and Co., 1904), p. 47.
 
 208 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 either to him or to them."''- That was the cause of indus- 
 trial slavery, as he saw it— landlordism, the appropriation 
 by a few of the heritage of the many. For he held, as we 
 have noted that the Russian people believe, that the land is 
 a gift of God to humanity, even as are the air, the water and 
 the sun. Holding his faith in a just God, he could not 
 concede that landlordism is anything but a man-made 
 institution. The land question, then, was in his mind 
 inseparably linked with the problem of involuntary poverty, 
 as it had been in the mind of his predecessor, Hugo. 
 
 But this truth was not discovered, after all, by Henry 
 George or Victor Hugo. From the very beginning of 
 recorded human thought the evil of land monopoly has been 
 recognized and proclaimed. From the time that Tiberius 
 Gracchus cried out in anger that the beasts in Italy had 
 their dens, but that the men who bore arms for the state 
 had nothing more in it but the air and light,**^ till the day 
 when the volunteer army returned to England from the 
 Boer War and found themselves unable to get work, unable 
 to find land to live on — from the days of Rome and Greece 
 to the present time, the solution of the land question has 
 concerned philosophers, reformers, and philanthropists. 
 
 We may hear the note of protest in the words of the 
 Savior: "Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have 
 nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay his head. ' '"* 
 The early Christian scholars saw the situation clearly. 
 From Lactantius in his Divine Institutes'^ down to Pope 
 Gregory the Great in his Cura Past oralis, ^^ they condemned 
 
 0^ Progress and Poverty (New York, Doubleday, Page and Co., 
 1904), p. 47. 
 
 ^^ Life of Tiberius Gracchus, in Plutarch's Lives (New York, 
 Athenaeum, 1905), iv, 515. 
 
 9* Luke ix, 58; Matthew viii, 20. 
 
 »5 The Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by the Kev. Alexander Eoberts 
 (Buffalo, Christian Literature Pub. Co., 1885), vii, 141. 
 
 »o Patrologia Latina, edited by J. P. Migne (Paris, J. P. Migne, 
 1902), Ixxvii, 87.
 
 1912] Dniru: Tolstoy's '' AVhat Shall We Do Then?" 209 
 
 land monopoly as contrary to divine law. Maine^' and 
 Blackstone,"® with other authorities on ancient law, declare 
 that in the beginning there was no legal right to private 
 property in land. 
 
 In early England, the evil was seen and denounced. "A 
 landless man is an unfree man, "^^ is an ancient Anglo- 
 Saxon proverb. And down to modern times, a long line of 
 thinkers — Spinoza,^"" Marmontel,^"^ Rousseau,^**- and Rus- 
 kin^°^ — these and a great many others assert that the prin- 
 ciple of access to the land should be the universal rule, and 
 that this right is the natural heritage of all. 
 
 Carlyle declared that "properly speaking, the land 
 belongs to these two : to the almighty God and to all his 
 children of men."^°* There can be no doubt as to what 
 Jefferson meant when he said^"^ that the earth belongs in 
 usufruct to the living. "The world is God's bequest to 
 mankind," once wrote Herbert Spencer. "All men are 
 joint heii-s to it ; you amongst the number. ' '^^*^ 
 
 A truth maj' exist for a time unaccepted, but no great 
 verity can long remain obscured. The history of the ques- 
 tion under consideration proves this. That the system of 
 
 0" Sir Henry S. Maine, Village Communities in the East and West 
 (London, John Murray, 1876), pp. 76, 77. 
 
 98 Commentaries, edited by Chitty (New York, W. E. Dean, 1844), 
 vol. i, bk. ii, p. 2. 
 
 99 The New Encyclopedia of Social Heforvx, edited by Wm. P. Bliss 
 (New York, Funk and Wagnalls, 1908), p. 693. 
 
 100 Worls of Spinoza, translated by E. H. M. Elwes (London, 
 George Bell and Sons, 1883), i, 319. 
 
 101 Discours Academiques, in Oeuvres (Paris, Verdiere, 1819), x, 56. 
 ^02 Discours sur I'inegalite, in Oeuvres (Paris, Thomine et Fortic, 
 
 1823), i, 287. 
 
 103 Letters to M. G. and H. G. (New York, Harper and Bros., 
 1903), pp. 78, 79; E. T. Cook, The Life of Buskin (New York, Mae- 
 millan, 1911), ii, 575. 
 
 T-oiPast and Present (New York, H. M. Caldwell Co.), p. 170. 
 
 105 The Writings of Thomas Jefferson, edited by Andrew A. Lips- 
 comb (Washington, Thomas Jefferson Memorial Assn., 1903), vii, 455. 
 
 ^or. Social Statics (New York, Appleton and Co., 1865), p. 136; 
 Henry George, A Perplexed Philosopher (New York, Doubleday, 
 Page'aud Co., 1904), p. 5.
 
 210 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 landlordism is opposed to natural laws is the solemn con- 
 clusion of all thinkers upon the rights of manl^ind. Land, 
 they say, is a common heritage of humanity, and any system 
 that puts the disposition of the earth into the hands of the 
 few to the exclusion of the many is an unnatural perver- 
 sion. The evil of land monopoly has been universally 
 recognized. 
 
 Now comes the question : How may the blight of land- 
 lordism be removed ? 
 
 Even as the evil was recognized in earliest times, so 
 there has been a constant search for a remedy. The ancient 
 plans were for the most part attempts to distribute land 
 equally. Such were the efforts at reform by the Gracchi^°'^ 
 in Rome, and by Lycurgus^°^ and Cleomenes in Sparta."^ 
 Such was the plan of the Jews for reapportioning the lands 
 of the tribes every fifty years at the Jubilee. ^^'^ Such was 
 the method of tanistry in Ireland. ^^^ These were all more 
 or less crude attempts at a just settlement of the land 
 question. They involved an arbitrary division of the 
 land, which, while perhaps for a time beneficial to the 
 majority, could not be established on a permanent basis. 
 These plans always entailed injustices that counterbalanced 
 any good effected. They brought at most only temporary 
 relief. And, aside from this, however applicable such sys- 
 tems may have been to other ages and conditions, there 
 can be no doubt that they would prove ineffectual at the 
 present day. 
 
 It is obvious that the plans already mentioned, and, in 
 fact, all systems of state ownership, land nationalization, 
 or attempted equal division of land, are ill fitted for any 
 
 lOT Plutarch, Life of Tiberius Gracchus, in Lives (New York, 
 Athenaeum, 190.5), iv, 513. 
 
 108 Plutarch, Life of Lycurgus, ibid., i, 93. 
 100 Plutarch, Life of Cleomenes, ibid., iv, 477. 
 
 110 Frederick Verinder, My Neighbor's Landmark (London, 
 Andrew Melrose, 1911), p. 49 ff". 
 
 111 Edmund Spenser, History of Ireland, in Ancient Irish Histories, 
 edited by Ware (Dublin, Hibernia Press, 1809), i, 10.
 
 1912J Drurij: Tolstoy's '' What Shall We Do Then?" 211 
 
 but the most primitive conditions of society. We must 
 seek a more practicable, if not a more equitable plan. 
 Indeed, of recent years there has been proposed a new 
 system to remedy the evils of landlordism, one which has 
 been widely accepted. Its most eminent exponent was 
 Henry George. 
 
 In his numerous writings, George developed a complete 
 philosophy on the subject of land ownership. Like Tolstoy, 
 he deplored the division of mankind into extremes of 
 poverty and riches. Like the Russian, he ascribed this to 
 the fact that "labor is robbed.""- He agreed with Tolstoy 
 that the poor and rich alike are victims of the present 
 system of society. And Henry George fearlessly declared 
 that the great reason for involuntary poverty is monopoly 
 in land. 
 
 The remedy proposed by George was to "make land 
 common property.""^ But he did not desire to do this by 
 abolishing the private possession of land. That, he believed, 
 should remain, an incentive to individual enterprise in 
 improvement of property. His plan was simpler than to 
 establish government ownership in an absolute sense. Ac- 
 cording to him we may best assert the common right to 
 land by taking "rent for public uses.""* This can be done 
 without disturb|)ig present customs and habits of thought, 
 or extending needlessly our governmental machinery. ' ' We 
 already take some rent in taxation. We have only to make 
 some changes in our modes of taxation, to take it all.""^ 
 His plan, then, was for the government "to aboli.sh all 
 taxation save that upon land values.""^ 
 
 112 Henry George, The Condition of Labor, in Complete Works, 
 edited by Henry George, Jr. (New York, Doubleday, Page and Co., 
 1904), iii, 92. 
 
 '^'^3 Progress and Poverty (New York, Doubleday, Page and Co., 
 1904, p. 401. 
 
 114 /6td., 403. 
 
 115 7&!d. 
 
 116 iMd., 404.
 
 212 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 The system of taxation proposed by Henry George is 
 best summed up in his own words: 
 
 ' ' We propose .... leaving land in the private possession of indi- 
 viduals, with full liberty on their part to give, sell, or bequeath it — 
 simply to levy on it for public uses a tax that shall equal the annual 
 value of the land itself, irrespective of the use made of it, or the 
 improvements on it. And since this would provide amply for the need 
 of public revenues, we would accompany this taxation on land values 
 with the repeal of all taxes now levied on the products and processes 
 of industry — which taxes, since they take from the earnings of labor, 
 we hold to be infringements of the rights of property, "n^ 
 
 Speaking of the result of this "single tax," he said: 
 
 ' ' Taxes on land, irrespective of improvement, cannot lessen the 
 rewards of industry, nor add to prices, nor in any way take from the 
 individual what belongs to the individual. They can take only the 
 value that attaches to land by the growth of the conununity, and which 
 therefore belongs to the community as a whole. 
 
 "To take land values for the state, abolishing all taxes on the 
 products of labor, would therefore leave to the laborer the full 
 produce of labor .... It would impose no burden on industry, no 
 check on commerce, no punishment on thrift ; it would secure the 
 largest production and the fairest distribution of wealth, by leaving 
 men free to produce and to exchange as they please, without any 
 artificial enhancement of prices, "us 
 
 "We cannot here examine the plan in all its details. Yet 
 this must be said for the Single Tax : It is the only system 
 treating with the land question now before the world that 
 attempts to adjust automatically the inequalities which exist 
 in the distribution of wealth. This is an important point. 
 No change in modern social conditions nor in governmental 
 structure would be required to put it into operation. No 
 complicated arrangement would be needed to carry it out ; 
 the existing tax-collecting machinery would be sufficient. 
 The laws would not be changed, except that they would 
 provide that all revenue for national, state, and city 
 expenses should be raised on land values. Finally, no one 
 
 ii'^ The Co7iditio7i of Labor, p. 8. 
 ^i» Ibid., p. 13.
 
 1912] Drury: Tolstoxfs "What Shall We Do Then?" 213 
 
 would be denied the possession of the land he now holds, 
 if he deemed it to his interest to keep it. Landlords would 
 not necessarily disappear. Only injurious landlordism 
 would be abolished. The tax on land values is to be imposed 
 with the primal idea that the rich will under it be unwilling 
 and unable to maintain large landed estates uncultivated 
 or out of use, keeping them away from those who have a 
 natural right to use of land; nor will they be able to hold 
 land idle for speculation. 
 
 So much for the theory of the Single Tax. But the plan 
 has been more than a theory. The philosophy of Henry 
 George is a potent factor in the world today. Those who 
 believe in his teaching do not form a party; in fact, they 
 belong to every shade of political opinion. "The influence 
 of Henry George throughout Europe," says Professor 
 Kobert Braun of Buda-Pesth, Hungary, "is today greater 
 than that of any of his countrymen — greater in Europe 
 than in the land of his birth, ' '^^^ It is acknowledged that the 
 doctrines of Henry George were responsible for the British 
 Land Values Budget of 1909, which was passed through the 
 able advocacy of such men as Lloyd George, the Chancellor 
 of the Exchequer, In Canada, New Zealand, Australia, 
 South Africa, Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Switzerland, 
 the United States — in fact, throughout the whole world, 
 there has been a steady trend toward the adoption of the 
 Land Values Taxation system. It is in actual and success- 
 ful operation, in various forms, in Great Britain and in 
 many of the cities of Western Canada, of New Zealand and 
 Australia, and of Germany, A system that has spread so 
 rapidly in the comparatively short space of thirty years is 
 worthy of more than passing remark, especially since in no 
 ease has its application proved anything but beneficial. 
 
 Coming from general principles to the specific problem 
 of land reform in Russia, let us enquire whether this plan 
 
 ^'^^ Single Tax Eeview, x, 41 (February, 1910).
 
 214 University of Calif orriia Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 could be applied there. Fortunately, Tolstoy himself has 
 answered the question. 
 
 After a long study of social and economic conditions 
 Tolstoy became an ardent supporter of the theory of Henry 
 George. He said in one of his letters, ' ' I have known Henry 
 George ever since the appearance of his Social Frohlems. 
 I read the book and was struck by the correctness of his 
 fundamental idea, and also by the exceptional clearness, 
 popularity, and force of expression, the like of w^hich cannot 
 be found in scientific literature, and especially by that 
 Christian spirit, also exceptional in scientific literature, 
 with which the whole book is permeated. After reading 
 this book, I went back in time and read his Progress and 
 Poverty and still more appreciated the significance of 
 Henry George's activity. "^-° 
 
 That Tolstoy, while writing What Shall We Do Then?, 
 had no accurate knowledge of George's work is evident 
 from his reference in this book to the Single Tax as a " plan 
 of land nationalization, ' '^-^ which he thought did not strike 
 deep enough. He later changed his opinion both as to the 
 character of the plan advocated by George (which is not 
 "land nationalization") and as to its efficacy in improving 
 present conditions of society. 
 
 Throughout his later writings, Tolstoy shows his un- 
 qualified approval of the Single Tax. In Resurrection he 
 has Nekhl>Tidov say, ' ' All the land is a common possession. 
 Everybody has an equal right to it. But there is better 
 and worse land, and everyone wants to get the good land. 
 What is to be done in order to equalize things? Let him 
 who owns a piece of good land pay the price of it to those 
 who have none."^-- And he goes on to explain the theory 
 of Henry George. 
 
 120 Two Letters on Eenry George, in Works (Boston, Estes, 1905), 
 xxiii, 396. 
 
 121 What Shall We Do Then?, p. 157. 
 
 '^" Eesurrection, translated by Leo Wiener (Boston, Estes, 1904), 
 p. 339.
 
 1912] Brury: Tolstoy's " W/ia^ ^liall We Do Tlienf" 215 
 
 In 1897, upon the accession of Nicholas II, Count Tolstoy 
 said : " If the new Czar were to ask me what I should advise 
 him to do, I should say to him : Use your autocratic power 
 to abolish landed property in Russia, and to introduce the 
 Single Tax system, and then give up your power and give 
 the people a liberal constitution. "^^^ 
 
 There are many other references to Henry George in the 
 writings of Tolstoy, but his greatest work upon this subject 
 was a long letter to the London Times, which appeared in 
 the issue of August 1, 1905. It at once aroused widespread 
 interest throughout the world. In this letter, which was sub- 
 sequently issued in pamphlet form under the title of A 
 Great Iniquity, Tolstoy explicitly approved the Single Tax 
 plan and quoted extensively and appreciatively from 
 George's works. "People do not argue with the teaching 
 of George," he said, ''they simply do not know it. . . . He 
 who becomes acquainted with it cannot but agree. ' '^-* This 
 was his final tribute to Henry George. Twenty years earlier 
 Tolstoy had asked the question, "What shall we do?" and 
 now he answered it. He was unselfish enough to acknowl- 
 edge the truth of another man's answer to a question which 
 he himself had long sought in vain to solve. 
 
 The real problem of poverty placed before us by the 
 Russian philosopher was the problem of involuntary pov- 
 erty. He saw that the condition of the poor in Russia was 
 brought about by agencies that perverted natural laws and 
 produced abnormal inequalities in society. In his own 
 nation the greatest of such hurtful agencies was — and is — 
 land monopoly. That the disinheritance of the people which 
 has taken place in Russia is an evil of society everywhere, 
 has been confirmed by testimony worldwide and ages long. 
 Searching for a specific way to free from such an injury the 
 Russians and the people of the world, we have found but 
 
 ^-^Progressive Review, i, 419, note (August, 1897). 
 124 A Great Iniquity, translated by Tchertkoff (Chicago, Public 
 Publishing Co., 1908), p. 21.
 
 216 University of California Prize Essays U^^- ^ 
 
 one fundamental plan, and that a method admitted and 
 endorsed by Tolstoy. 
 
 We need not fall into the error, however, of thinking 
 that it is possible to bring the Millenium by an act of the 
 Duma at St. Petersburg. Neither the Single Tax nor any 
 one remedy would prove a panacea for the ills of Eussia. 
 Once equitable access to the land is gained, further reforms 
 must necessarily follow. There are evils in Russia other 
 than those growing out of land monopoly. In its widest 
 interpretation the problem that Tolstoy suggests involves 
 more than poverty and riches. For the final redemption 
 there vrill be needed more than a readjustment of economic 
 distribution. 
 
 But things must come in turn. The world's trend is 
 from the material to the spiritual. The settlement of the 
 land question in Russia, or in any other country, may be 
 but a step. Yet it is a vitally necessary step. In recognizing 
 this, we find for our problem its true and ultimate solution. 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 In a book on What Tolstoy Taught, Bolton Hall aptly 
 says, "Most persons want to get a clear impression of the 
 matured views of the Prophets, not of how they developed 
 changed and were often recanted. Many of the apparent 
 contradictions that confuse us in the doctrines of the great 
 are simply questions of time, and are due to expression of 
 opinions afterwards changed. "^^° 
 
 It has been our duty to seek out the ultimate opinions of 
 this philosopher. During the last years of his life, Tol- 
 stoy was imbued with the ideals of Henry George on the 
 land question, which he, in common with many thinkers, ac- 
 cepted as lying at the base of poverty and industrial 
 slavery. 
 
 Tolstoy, throughout his later life, by living in mean cir- 
 cumstances like a peasant, was not trying to teach a great 
 
 120 n'hat Tolstoy Taught (New York, B. W. Huebsch, 1911), p. 5.
 
 1912] Drurij: Tolstoifs '' W/ia^ ^Uall We Do Then?" 217 
 
 economic lesson. He was not mentally unbalanced in this 
 regard, as some think, nor is it to be believed that, later, 
 he felt that if all rich men lived in this manner they could 
 improve the condition of humanity. He simply did this, 
 as we have seen, to be at peace with himself. We find Tol- 
 stoy in peasant's garb, plowing in the fields, his venerable 
 white beard blowing about him in the wind ; or we see him 
 bending over a shoe upon a cobbler's bench. Here was a 
 man trying his best to live according to his ideals ; he did 
 not believe that he had a right to live by the labor of others ; 
 he himself must work. 
 
 We need only read TF/mi Shall We Do Then? to see how 
 unsatisfactory all this was to Tolstoy, living as he was under 
 unnatural conditions. He knew that he was powerless in 
 the hands of a great social system which made him a rich 
 man without merit on his part, and his neighbors poor men, 
 without demerit on their part. They had no chance to be- 
 come well-to-do ; he could not dispose of his riches without 
 working an injustice to his family, and if he gave away his 
 wealth, those who received it were gaining without laboring, 
 which was contrary to his ideals. Even when, in What Shall 
 We Do Then?, we read of his attempted charity, we realize 
 with him the hopelessness of it all, the utter impossibility 
 of curing the open sore of poverty with merely a royal touch 
 of gold, with a few coins doled out here and there to the 
 destitute. 
 
 He who had boundless love for his fellow men was driven 
 to desperation when he saw the terrible condition into which 
 some of them had fallen. He asked the agonized question 
 "What shall we do?" and cast restlessly about for the 
 answer. Socialism he rejected as an artificial and danger- 
 ous system. Ceaselessly he sought after the truth and at- 
 tacked the institutions which he thought might be the cause 
 of the bondage of the people. He attacked the church. He 
 attacked the extravagances of the rich and the nobility. But 
 in the end he found that these Avere superficialities. He ac- 
 cepted the clear reasoning of a political economist, Henry
 
 218 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 George, and put aside the doctrines of the vague theorists 
 who had preceded him. This was in the period of his 
 maturity as a writer, and till his death in 1910 he labored 
 as best he could for the propagation among mankind of the 
 truth as he saw it. 
 
 A Great Iniquity is Tolstoy's answer to What Shall We 
 Do Then?
 
 THE SOCIAL VALIDITY OF TOLSTOY'S WHAT 
 IS TO BE DONE? 
 
 LILLIAN KUTH MATTHEWS, 
 Ph.B. (University of Iowa), 1903; Ph.D., 1912
 
 ANALYSIS 
 
 I. Tolstoy should be discussed in a spirit sympathetic with his ideal, 
 
 p. 223. 
 
 II. The significance of Tolstoy's spirit of criticism, its truth and 
 its error, pp. 223-231. 
 
 1. Good and evil must be judged from a point of view that 
 
 is not artificial, p. 223. 
 
 2. This is the force and validity of his attack, p. 224. 
 
 3. Tolstoy 's point of view is needed in our age, pp. 22.5-228. 
 
 Humanitarian projects, p. 225. The pale and hungry 
 worker is ready for spiritual progress, pp. 225-226. Tol- 
 stoy is right in emphasizing the danger that "social 
 work" may retard progress, pp. 227-228. 
 
 4. However, Tolstoy's view is essentially limited, pp. 228- 
 
 230. His idealistic and sympathetic temperament lead 
 him to undervalue practical necessities, p. 228. He shows 
 this limitation in his doctrine that primitive life will 
 supply an ideal, p. 229. He forgets that there is evidence 
 that good prevails in present society, p. 229. 
 
 5. Our task is not to destroy, but to understand and develop 
 our institutions, pp. 230-231. 
 
 6. We must conclude that Tolstoy 's criticism is significant 
 
 and that so far his work is valid, p. 231. 
 
 III. Tolstoy's view of our material development is the first error 
 into which his attempt at practical application of his criticism 
 leads him, pp. 231-240. 
 
 1. Would abolish money as the chief cause of corruption, 
 pp. 231-232. 
 
 [220]
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 221 
 
 2. The proper position of money in social concepts, pp. 223- 
 
 235. 
 
 3. The contribution that money has made to the ethical de- 
 
 velopment that Tolstoy desires, pp. 235-237. 
 
 4. Tolstoy also errs in attacking wealth, pp. 237-240. The 
 
 starvation of all will not furnish aid to those already 
 famishing, p. 237. Wealth has been a great force for 
 progress, p. 238. Tolstoy quite misses the view that 
 plenty will serve man better than poverty, p. 239. The 
 material and the spiritual must and do advance together, 
 pp. 239-240. 
 
 IV. Tolstoy's view of labor presents the same aspect; again it is 
 limited and ill-fitted to cope with our problem, pp. 240-248. 
 
 1. His scheme of "bread labor" would result in the abolition 
 
 of city life, in which Tolstoy sees only evil, pp. 240-241. 
 But city life has aspects which help develop the very 
 spirit Tolstoy wishes in mankind, pp. 240-242. 
 
 2. It is true that urban development has made possible our 
 
 present industrial organization, p. 242. But examples 
 prove that the system advocated by Tolstoy leads to 
 worse evils, pp. 242-243. It would soon reduce the race 
 to dire poverty where no spiritual development would be 
 possible, p. 244. 
 
 3. Machinery has been a natural outgrowth of both material 
 
 and spiritual needs, p. 244. Philosophers and poets have 
 recognized this, pp. 244-245. While admitting the evils 
 to which abuses have led, we must recognize the force 
 for good which might be utilized, pp. 245-246. 
 
 4. Division of labor may be a force for promoting the spirit 
 
 of interdependence, p. 247. 
 
 V. The validity of Tolstoy's criticism of government, pp. 248-252. 
 
 1. Tolstoy's views of labor, money, wealth, etc., if carried 
 out, would soon lead to retrogression in governmental 
 institutions, p. 248. Investigations prove that where 
 economic life is on a low level no progress takes place, 
 p. 248. Evils grow under such conditions and a system 
 of anarchy would be quite useless, p. 249.
 
 222 Vniversity of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 2. Tolstoy's view of government is led astray by peculiarly 
 
 Eussian conditions, p. 249. The test of bis validity must 
 be how well he has fulfilled his purpose of awakening the 
 spiritual consciousness of man, p. 249. Illustrated by his 
 views on taxation, pp. 250-251. 
 
 3. The deeper vital spiritual forces are gaining over the 
 
 lower in government and in man's other activities, pp. 
 251-252. 
 
 VI. Conclusion — An estimate of Tolstoy's achievement in What Is 
 To Be Done? pp. 252-259. 
 
 1. He makes a powerful plea that moral truths be given due 
 
 place in outward life, but the force of it is lessened by 
 its impracticability, pp. 251-252. 
 
 2. The struggle with hardship that he advocates is unneces- 
 
 sary and does not bring the "spiritual fruits" that 
 Tolstoy desires for mankind, pp. 253-258. Pain cannot 
 be exalted as the pathway to highest living, pp. 253-256. 
 Deformity and suffering must yield to health and strength, 
 p. 256. Society must cease to justify injustice, p. 256. 
 Tolstoy's scheme of destruction is not necessary, p. 257. 
 Examples prove that moral and ethical characteristics 
 rise best under conditions quite the reverse of those 
 Tolstoy advocates, p. 257. 
 
 3. Many forces hinder the ethical growth of society, p. 258. 
 
 One of the chief is that the race still attempts to apply 
 old formulae to new conditions, p. 259. The spiritual 
 development of the race has been retarded by its blind- 
 ness to the new civilization made possible by these con- 
 ditions, p. 259. While not appreciating material progress, 
 Tolstoy has discerned the spiritual malady and thus 
 becomes an awakener of conscience and an inspiration, 
 p. 259.
 
 THE SOCIAL VALIDITY OF TOLSTOY'S 
 WHAT IS TO BE DONET 
 
 A great soul seeking to comprehend humanity must be 
 discussed in the spirit he himself has expressed as his ideal 
 if we would be just to him or hope to reach a solution of 
 those problems that set that soul upon the quest. We may- 
 esteem his conclusions slight or inadequate, but if we base 
 our criticism upon the spirit that the author wished to in- 
 spire, we have done the thing plea.sing to one whose desire 
 was to convey the gleam that he himself followed. At the 
 branching of many roads Tolstoy set up an altar and built 
 a fire thereon at which wayfarers may light their torches 
 before attempting the darkness beyond. Even though we do 
 not follow the path Tolstoy chose, because we do not believe 
 it to be the one leading to the top of the mountain, the flame 
 upon the torch may be lifted from his altar-fires, as he 
 would have wished when he kindled it there. 
 
 II 
 
 The light which Tolstoy gives as a guide for stumbling 
 feet is an intense interest in humanity for its own sake. His 
 call is to east aside all that is artificial or non-essential, and 
 
 1 Tolstoy, What Is To Be Bone?, translated by I. F. Hapgood (New 
 York, Crowell, 1899) ; cf. What Shall We Do Then?, translated by Leo 
 Wiener (Boston, Estes, 1904). 
 
 [223]
 
 224 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 to strive to view life with fresh, unprejudiced vision. ' ' Man- 
 kind seems to be occupied with commerce, treaties, wars, 
 sciences, arts, and yet for them one thing only is important, 
 and they do only that — they are elucidating those moral 
 laws by which they live. ' '^ Tolstoy 's is a spiritual criticism. 
 He summons the soul of man to judge good and evil. ''Only 
 those who can appreciate moral truths know how to value 
 their elucidation and simplification by a long and laborious 
 process, or can prize the transition from a first vaguely 
 understood proposition or desire to a firm and determined 
 expression calling for a corresponding change of conduct."* 
 Tolstoy's deep and introspective groping has discerned 
 that the soul must face its problems in a straightforward 
 way, cleared of all the traditions and predeterminations that 
 we have become accustomed to regard as the significant end 
 of society's activity. In this lies his inspirational power. 
 It rings through his words, sounding indignation against 
 a gross materialism, crying scorn upon low ideals of commer- 
 cial expediency that would rule humanity to its ethical im- 
 poverishment. Having heard a soul sobbing over the sins 
 and sufferings of the world, one can nevermore be blind or 
 callous. His intense w^ords must strike through the hardest 
 shell of either conventional or academic arrogance. The 
 most prosperous of our complacent classes, after reading 
 Tolstoy, could scarcely look at life just as had been their 
 previous habit. Many a placid person, who believed him- 
 self at least inoffensive, must have been startled into ques- 
 tioning his own right to self-satisfaction when he heard 
 Tolstoy summoning each one to accept his share of respon- 
 sibility for the pain and evil of society. The begging men, 
 the gross and suffering women, the pale youth shivering, 
 all the desolate crew of Rzhanoff's house, regard us with 
 inquiring eyes. Nor can we escape by leaving the city 
 streets : 
 
 2 What Is To Be Done?, p. 57 (tr. Wiener, p. 67). 
 ^ Ibid., p. 56 (tr. Wiener, p. 66).
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 225 
 
 All, old and young and sick, work with all their strength. The 
 peasants work in such a way that, when cutting the last rows, the 
 mowers — weak people, growing youths, old men — are so tired that, 
 having rested a little, it is with great pain they begin anew.* 
 
 The little boy, quite bent under the jug with water heavier than 
 himself, walks with short steps on his bare feet, and carries the jug 
 with many shifts. The little girl takes on her shoulders a load of 
 hay, which is also heavier than herself; walks a few paces, and stops, 
 then throws it down, having no strength to carry it farther.^ 
 
 The sun is already setting behind the wood, and the ricks are 
 not yet in order; there is still much to be done.o 
 
 The awakened conscience stands ready to listen and to 
 learn. This is in accordance with the spirit of our age, which 
 is devoting attention to the question whether the general 
 well-being may not be promoted more justly in harmony 
 with increasing wealth. Tolstoy perceives the danger here 
 too, for it is true that so much interest is exhibited in "social 
 betterment" that this age has become self-conscious and 
 rather pleased with itself. Employers have adopted "wel- 
 fare work" as part of their program of business. Society 
 points proudly to those conspicuous for providing a rest 
 room, a dining place, or a waxed floor as examples of the 
 willingness to share (even at pecuniary loss) with those 
 who in the plan of things are made to serve. Leisurely, 
 well-dressed women, anxious for fear that they may not be 
 the proper exponents of the modern fashion of altruism, 
 listen at their clubs to reports about philanthropic agencies. 
 They voice their support, pluming themselves upon the 
 weight their uttered sentiment will add. Others become 
 "friendly visitors" and can tell how effectively the influ- 
 ence of their personality and the wisdom of their patronage 
 has made over some wrecked life or encouraged some family 
 to renewed effort that has brought them to the self-respect- 
 ing level of patient toil and frugality that was the ideal of 
 
 4/&td., p. 160 (tr. Wiener, p. 193). 
 5 Ibid., p. 161 (tr. Wiener, p. 194). 
 ^Ihid., p. 161 (tr. Wiener, p. 194).
 
 226 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 early Victorian days. The assumption is that the poor, the 
 toilers, the sinful, are inherently lacking in the qualities 
 that might save them without extraneous suggestion. 
 
 On a night in San Francisco not long since, a raw wind 
 was blowing along Market Street. A pale man, meanly 
 dressed in the garb of a laborer, stood in front of a window 
 made attractive by a display of books. He was leaning 
 eagerly forward spelling out the titles with slow lips. A 
 hungry soul looked out through his longing eyes. He 
 pressed against the glass with arms outstretched as if he 
 would embrace a world from which he knew himself shut 
 out. Such a bit of concrete life flings before the mental 
 vision the reason for Tolstoy's passionate cry that people 
 should cease to judge social policies by what has been writ- 
 ten about them and think of them only in terms of the 
 results to be seen about us. Here on our own free and pros- 
 perous streets was the man who says, "We want spiritual 
 food; and until w^e receive it we cannot labor. "^ ''We do 
 not even know what is required by the working-man," ac- 
 cuses Tolstoy, ' ' we have even forgotten his mode of life, his 
 view of things, his language."^ ''And we are still convers- 
 ing among ourselves and teaching each other, and amusing 
 ourselves, and have quite forgotten them ; we have so totally 
 forgotten them that others have taken upon themselves to 
 teach and amuse them, and we have not even become aware 
 of this in our flippant talk about division of labor. And it 
 was very obvious that all our talk about the utility we oifer 
 the people was only a shameful excuse."* "In our blind- 
 ness we have to such a degree left out of sight the duty we 
 took upon us, that we have forgotten for what our labor is 
 being done; and the very people w^hom we undertook to 
 serve, we have made an object of our scientific and artistic 
 activities. We study them and represent them for our own 
 
 7 What Is To Be Done?, p. 208 (tr. Wiener, p. 251). 
 
 8 Ibid., p. 209 (tr. Wiener, p. 252). 
 8 Ihid., p. 211 (tr. Wiener, p. 253).
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's "^Yhat Is To Be Done?" 227 
 
 pleasure and amusement : we have quite forgotten that it is 
 our duty, not to study and depict, but to serve them."^° 
 
 From many quarters, resentment may greet such an ar- 
 raignment of this century. It might be averred that since 
 Tolstoy's book was written such a development of altruism 
 has shown itself that such accusations are quite absurd. 
 Encouraging as the fact of widened social feeling may be, 
 it brings with it the perils Tolstoy discerns as a concomitant 
 of the advancement of the race. The few who have attained 
 the identification with the interests of the whole of human- 
 ity that Tolstoy so truly sees is necessary before any re- 
 form can be adequate, stand out against a background of 
 those who are for betterment merely because that happens 
 to be the conventional expression of our day. They have in 
 no sense that appreciation of "moral truths" which leads to 
 a "firm and determined corresponding change in conduct." 
 Their very numbers may clog the fundamental revolution of 
 a changed spiritual state. A complacent majority, posing 
 as altruistic in motive, believing, indeed, in the sincerity of 
 their own pose, may blind the age to basic facts of injustice. 
 Kest rooms, dining-rooms, a waxed floor, are not to be ac- 
 cepted as a substitute for a living wage. Abundance of 
 philanthropic effort may serve merely to hide an issue that 
 involves the right of each personality to be free from the 
 humiliating necessity of submitting to the impertinence of 
 such efforts. Settlements, social centers, amusements be- 
 stowed by people living in one part of a city upon those 
 doomed to live in another, may accomplish some of the 
 purposes intended. They may also furnish a self-esteeming 
 excuse for not appreciating the right others have to an 
 environment that renders patronage needless. 
 
 Into such an inert society, accepting its own progress 
 only when advancement can be transmuted into a conven- 
 tionality — a conventionality that too often becomes a mech- 
 anical action deadening to the very spiritual inspiration 
 
 10 Ibid., p. 210 (tr. Wiener, p. 253).
 
 228 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 that originated the change — into this inert society, Tolstoy 
 strides, a lonely, iconoclastic figure. Nothing will he gloss 
 or hide. He will not persuade with flattery. "We must 
 admit the tremendous force of his insight. We must ac- 
 knowledge that in discerning the moral laws which "com- 
 merce, treaties, wars, sciences, arts," are elucidating, lies 
 the only means of discovering how civilization may be 
 directed in ways conducive to social happiness. Is Tolstoy 's 
 program of conduct the best interpretation of what this 
 "subtle, imperceptible elucidation" discloses as essential 
 to preserve? 
 
 The material that we have to work with is this world as 
 it is, with all its physical necessities, its waywardness, its 
 foolish and short-sighted laws, its commonplace people. 
 Tolstoy's sustained point of view places him above all 
 material qualities, on the stage where constitutions, con- 
 gresses, and the machinery of economic life become attenu- 
 ated. As in his own private life his theories were in conflict 
 with the conditions society imposed, so in What Is To Be 
 Done? we find the same effort to disregard the practical 
 limitations of a natural world. His view is essentially 
 temperamental. 
 
 The deepest tragedies of our social life struck into his 
 sensitive perception. He suffered keenly in his sympathy 
 with the unhappy, ruined, depraved, with the "working- 
 men, quiet, satisfied, cheerful" in their poverty. Pain and 
 injustice loom so large that his sense of perspective is ob- 
 scured. In the gloom of his mood, he can see no hope of 
 untangling the complications of our social organization. 
 Tolstoy appreciated with a deep, abstruse intuition that 
 man had become the creature of the mechanism he had 
 built. "The hungry, shivering, degraded inhabitants of 
 the night lodging-houses" by their very existence condemn, 
 for him, the system as utterly bad. Coupling this convic- 
 tion with his perception of how the very soul of man had 
 become permeated with the economic forms he had evolved, 
 our author sees only the solution of destruction. He had
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's " What Is To Be Dorie?" 229 
 
 grasped by his spiritual vision a salient fact which he was 
 unable to translate into practical, material terms. Plow 
 strange that he could believe it possible for the race which 
 had been changed in its very spiritual habits by the civiliza- 
 tion it had reared, to revert desperately to a simple, element- 
 al state of discomfort and find innocence and virtue there ! 
 Indeed all the results of research teach that a race in its 
 primitive state is deficient in moral sense. Savages have no 
 regard for human life; have no fineness and delicacy in 
 their intuitions in relations with others. An age that was 
 truly moral would not have invented the gods and goddesses 
 of Homer and could not have bowed down before them. 
 
 Fortunately, people as a whole do not have the exeep- 
 tionately gloomy outlook on life that admits the premise 
 that the social results of development have been universally 
 and only evil. We are aware that, even at its worst, the 
 world shows traits which are not hopelessly wicked or un- 
 happy. Our various phases of industrial life are based upon 
 principles that are fundamentally just. Greed and ignor- 
 ance have hindered growth and deflected it away from ef- 
 fective social control. Intelligence, too narrow to compre- 
 hend the vast meaning of economic laws as they have un- 
 folded themselves, has promulgated short-sighted policies 
 that disturb the harmonies of those laws and pervert them. 
 But redemption does not lie in beating a retreat to a fan- 
 tastic and unreal state of nature. The Darwinian inspira- 
 tion was not with Tolstoy or he would have seen the mani- 
 festation of nature in the constant upward struggle of 
 humanity. Since at every stage of history we see man 
 destined to invent means for control of situations, to en- 
 gage in new adventures, and ever continue to enter upon 
 others with energy and unabated zeal, is it not logical to 
 conclude that the civilization he has produced is based upon 
 his most natural and ineradicable tendencies ? The institu- 
 tions which we have incorporated into our existence, which 
 have come to us through the long, selective processes of race 
 development, have brought with them a significance that
 
 230 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 any artificially imposed program totally lacks. To study 
 and understand this significance is a brave task for our 
 century. 
 
 The new quest is to discover the subtle influence of the 
 mechanism of social and industrial life as they play upon 
 human beings, as the mechanism itself is shaped into new 
 form because of the very changes produced in desires, 
 habits, ideals. By making this elucidation perceptible to 
 the world, development may be consciously directed toward 
 social happiness instead of continuing to grope about in 
 haphazard fashion and so cause all the waste and cruelty 
 of heedless mistakes. 
 
 Tolstoy's reading of life leads him to conclude that we 
 must not preserve any of the forms which have grown up 
 with the race, so corrupting have they proved. He seeks 
 to drive man to a higher plane by showing all the evil of 
 his present state. Adopting this hopeless view of the pos- 
 sibilities of our present system, humanity would be driven 
 to despair or to a cynical callousness; for abandonment of 
 our complications would not prove so simple a matter as 
 Tolstoy states. We must work with the material we have 
 at hand, assured that it contains the blocks needed for 
 building the new structure. 
 
 Up through toil the race has struggled until a material 
 level has at last been reached Avhere, looking down upon the 
 foundation built, we can see a solid basis upon which to rear 
 a new civilization. Nature has been gained upon so that it 
 is no longer necessary for the human hordes to prowl about 
 precarious supplies of food. We are in an age of transition. 
 The social mind is static in character, has not outgrown old 
 habits engendered by the fear of hunger and cold when 
 the profit of one could only be another's loss. Old points 
 of view linger incongruously in the new, materially abund- 
 ant world. Oppression of the laborer, exploitation of the 
 weak, degradation and poverty, abide more glaringly in con- 
 trast to the lavishness of our economic productiveness. Com- 
 plaisance is still accorded to the fact that rewards go to
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's " What Is To Be Donef" 231 
 
 cunning, insensibility, or brute force because an old 
 hypocrisy confuses them with strength of character and 
 patience. But the accomplished change in outward condi- 
 tions will in time alter the social mind so as to bring con- 
 duct into accord with the fuller spiritual and intellectual 
 development made possible by the mechanism that Tolstoy 
 would discard. Within the rough, hard mass of our pres- 
 ent conditions is enclosed the heroic figure of the coming 
 order. The artists in economic thought, gifted with the 
 "divine gift of seeing" must, like Michaelangelo, chip away 
 the superficial stone. 
 
 A higher civilization is ready to emerge, accomplishment 
 of a large measure of it is a present possibility for this 
 century. But the appearance of the new regime implies 
 the abandonment of the conservative point of view that 
 affects men's minds with a habit of doubting and makes it 
 normal to despond. We must come to see that misuse of 
 our social machinery is not inherently necessary. At this 
 point Tolstoy fails us as a guide. He is fundamentally 
 right, when, with clear, spiritual vision, he decries the per- 
 version that institutions and forms have become, but he 
 shows us nothing of the other hopeful side which man must 
 realize and accept. Realizing and accepting the practic- 
 ability of making existing institutions — money, factories, 
 city life, division of labor — serve ends of happiness, human- 
 ity will have grown into the new state of mind harmonious 
 with our development into economic plenty. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ]\Ioney is the first symbol in which Tolstoy sees a bar- 
 rier to the regeneration of man and the consequent disap- 
 pearance of those barriers to a feeling of universal sym- 
 pathy and kinship. He had attempted to share his money 
 with the hungry and miserable ; he had felt uncomfortable 
 and distressed. The poor prostitute had nursed a sick 
 woman three days; the penniless helped each other with a
 
 232 University of California Prize Essays [Vou l 
 
 simplicity that he had not been able to attain ; he concludes, 
 therefore, that if he possessed nothing at all he might do 
 more good. 
 
 The woman who nursed the sick old man helped him; the 
 peasant's wife, who cut a slice of her bread, earned by her from 
 the very sowing of the corn that made it, helped the hungry one; 
 Semyon, who gave three kopeks which he had earned, assisted the 
 pilgrim because these three kopeks really represented his labor; 
 but I had served nobody, worked for no one, and knew very well 
 my money did not represent my labor. And so I felt that in money, 
 or in money's worth, and in the possession of it, there was some- 
 thing wrong and evil; that the money itself and the fact of my 
 having it, was one of the chief causes of those evils I had seen 
 before me, and I asked myself, What is money fn 
 
 Money is to him a sign of extortion, a means and an 
 end for continuing the ills in modern life. The rich have 
 "by means of the most complicated, cunning, and wicked 
 contrivances practiced for centuries" made themselves 
 owners of the "inexhaustible ruble. "^^ Its possession, he 
 argues, has served only to compel the continuance of an 
 unjust division of labor. Sweep away money and all the 
 unfair conditions of our methods of production will vanish. 
 "What is the reason of the fact that some men by means 
 of money acquire an imaginary right to the land and cap- 
 ital, and may make slaves of those men who have no money ? 
 The answer that presents itself to common sense would be, 
 that it is the result of money, the nature of which is to 
 enslave men,"^^ To take so narrow a view seems astonish- 
 ing, even childish. So many motives, so many impulses, 
 so many acquired habits enter into the actions of men that 
 it is scarcely an adequate explanation to lay the entire bur- 
 den of responsibility upon a superficial expression which 
 man has himself created as a convenience in a complicated 
 society. 
 
 n fVhat Is To Be Done?, p. 83 (tr. Wiener, p. 98), 
 
 12 Ihid., p. 81 (tr. Wiener, p. 96). 
 
 13 Ihid., p. 91 (tr. Weiner, p. 108).
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's " What Is To Be Done?" 233 
 
 One of the most firmly grounded conceptions people 
 must be rid of is this very one that money is the paramount 
 influence and end guiding the world's economic progress. 
 A man during the hours when he is engaged in earning a 
 living has been conceived as a creature separated from all 
 traits excepting that of handling money. This one func- 
 tion of his life has been treated as if entirely unrelated to 
 his own other activities or to those of society and as if 
 uninfluenced by them. 
 
 The assumption that man in his relation to money could 
 be isolated has been a powerful suggestive force that has 
 inculcated biased views and perverted much thought. It 
 has divorced the race's consideration of money-getting from 
 the ethical connection that should be, and often has been, its 
 concomitant. This peculiar concept, in which Tolstoy shares, 
 has been the baneful influence that has removed methods of 
 money-getting from the plane of consideration upon which 
 other conduct is judged. The idea has solidified itself into 
 trite phrases, those evidences of unreasoning acceptance of 
 shallow notions. "Business is business," we say glibly, as 
 if it were an axiom. Tolstoy perceives the spiritual im- 
 poverishment that has attended this separation of the 
 "economic man" from all the rest of his personality, but 
 apparently regards the division as inevitable and sees only 
 the solution of forcing the agent, money, out of existence. 
 As a matter of fact, however, any study of man's ways and 
 means of acquiring money is quite inadequate and lacks true 
 significance if numerous, diversified psychological factors 
 are not taken into account. Business conduct may be shaped 
 by impulses that are quite forgetful of money. Desire for 
 power may make money only a means to that end ; passion, 
 jealousy, personal likes or dislikes may cloud a man's 
 judgment ; kindness and sympathy may deflect his course ; 
 duty, love of his work, love of family, the spirit of social 
 service, are all conceivable forces having a vast influence 
 upon financial dealings. Men neither seeking or gaining 
 reward have made the great discoveries that have furthered
 
 234 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 our advancement. Newton, independent of any lust for 
 money, discovered the laws of gravitation. The match trust, 
 in order that its rivals might make use of a process free 
 from danger, canceled its patent on sesquisulphide of phos- 
 phorus, the harmless substitute for the poisonous white 
 phosphorus used with such frightful results on the health 
 of the workers. 
 
 An economist with sufficient insight into the human 
 heart to discern the relationship and proportion of the 
 various elements blending together in our industrial life 
 will perform a great service toward forwarding the changed 
 point of view that makes progress easier. In discussions of 
 humanity at work, money will cease to occupy an exagger- 
 ated position as almost the sole motive of his activity. It 
 will be seen in its proper perspective as one only of many 
 incentives to which it often plays a subordinate part. 
 
 The new concept will make social conduct seem a simple, 
 obvious act in the natural course of events. Now if we 
 wish to induce an employer to provide comforts for his em- 
 ployees, w^e set about it on the assumption that the only 
 argument carrying weight with him is the fact of its pay- 
 ing. Charities feel less timid about asking for funds if 
 they can give some proof of lifting part of the burden of 
 poverty which requires support from the community. By 
 coordinating money with the other motives influencing man, 
 these other motives will rise to a height of proper import- 
 ance in the public consciousnass. Justice may be seen to be 
 quite as good a reason as pecuniary return for improving 
 working conditions ; sympathy and a truly altruistic desire 
 for fair play may appear a sufficient cause for sharing with 
 any who have fallen into misfortune. . Such forces actually 
 do count now, only we fail to give them adequate recogni- 
 tion and they have become disassociated from our concept 
 of what may be expected from a man as an economic agent. 
 
 "With this broadened understanding we can come to see 
 more clearly that what is esteemed as thrift and talent is 
 often greed, that practical common sense is frequently a
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Donef" 235 
 
 narrow-minded form of low conservatism, that the pillars 
 supposedly holding up society are merely examples of stupid 
 inertia. Toleration is not accorded to stupidity, inertia, 
 narrowness, or greed in themselves, but we have substituted 
 prettier titles in the separated field of money dealings. A 
 changed point of view will do away with our habit of calm 
 acceptance of "cunning and complicated tricks," "of vio- 
 lence, extortion, and various expedients in consequence of 
 which the working people are deprived of the necessary 
 things, and the non-working community monopolize the 
 labor of others."^* 
 
 The replacing of the money-motive into its proper per- 
 spective, and the consequent change in the social mind, 
 would be impossible, Tolstoy would still maintain, since he 
 believes 'that money 's very nature is to enslave and to cor- 
 rupt. The concept of money has, beyond all denying, in- 
 siduously mastered many of the social- concepts of the 
 nations. But one need not conclude that this has been an 
 altogether evil influence, nor that it has won man away from 
 a state of innocence devoid of avariciousness. The develop- 
 ment of a monetary system gave a common term, a denom- 
 inator, in which man may communicate with each other in a 
 far more simple, direct, and honest manner than could be 
 without it. A subtle standardization has taken place in the 
 thinking of the market-place. Effective cooperation has 
 resulted from this direct and honest standard that has served 
 for a universal measure in the concepts of the world. 
 
 Imagination found itself released when the mind was 
 relieved of circuitous and cumbersome methods of mutual 
 dealings. The feeling of ease and facility inculcated by 
 money carried nimble thoughts into earth's far corners. 
 Trade developed, becoming the most efficient of those co- 
 operative undertakings that have proved themselves to be 
 a civilizing influence. "Trade," says Thorold Rogers, "is 
 an effective means for the development of international mor- 
 
 14 What Is to Be Done?, p. 79 (tr. Wiener, p. 94).
 
 236 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 ality, for the sense of reciprocal benefit teaches the reality 
 of reciprocal rights, and the recognition of rights in the 
 people of a foreign country is obviously a means by which 
 people are instructed in that sense of justice and the satis- 
 faction of obligations which is the earliest, and it would 
 seem, the most difficult lesson of civilization."^^ 
 
 Money has proved itself worthy of being retained. It 
 has itself served the nobler ends of race expansion and given 
 wing to ideas which have remade the world into a sphere 
 where plenty now at last gives solid base for a higher civil- 
 ization. Nor need we take Tolstoy's despairing view that 
 the wrong attitude of humanity's soul toward money is too 
 deeply ingrained to be overcome without elimination of 
 money. Good service is to be credited to the German 
 economists for their insistence upon other motives than 
 mere money-getting. The Physiocrats contributed a revo- 
 lutionary impulse in the great eighteenth century. "The 
 chief motive of their studj'- was not," says Marshall, "as 
 it had been with most of their predecessors, to increase the 
 riches of merchants and fill the exchequers of kings ; it was 
 to diminish the suffering and degradation which was caused 
 by extreme poverty. They thus gave to economics its mod- 
 ern aim of seeking after such knowledge as may help 
 to raise the quality of human life. "^^ 
 
 Ricardo threw the study of man as an economic being 
 into a narrowed channel for a time, but more and more the 
 mechanical element is being pushed backward as the human 
 side becomes prominent. Marshall, Cliffe Leslie, Bagehot, 
 Patten, Veblen, John Graham Brooks, are all representative 
 of an ever widening circle of disseminators of the view of 
 industry that relates the money function to the total sum 
 of life's expressions. Slowly this point of view is expand- 
 ing through society until it will become subtle and uncon- 
 scious public opinion. 
 
 15 James E. Thorold Rogers, The Economic Interpretation of His- 
 tory (London, Unwin, 1889), p. 93. 
 
 18 Alfred Marshall, Principles of Economics (London, Macmillan, 
 1891), p. 54.
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's " What Is To Be Done?" 237 
 
 In the abolishment of money, Tolstoy sees the first step 
 toward destroying inequality. Wealth, which makes the 
 outward signs of inequality evident, would soon be reduced 
 to the things that Tolstoy regards as essential and sufficient 
 were it not for money. 
 
 I became persuaded that between us rich men and the poor 
 there stood, erected by ourselves, a barrier of cleanliness and edu- 
 cation which arose from our wealth, and that, in order to be able 
 to help them, we have first to break down the barrier, and render 
 possible the realization of the means suggested by Sutaiev to take 
 the poor into our respective houses And so, I came to the conclusion 
 from a different point from that to which the train of thought 
 about town misery had led me; viz., the cause of it all was wealth. i7 
 
 Seeing a starved man, Tolstoy would advocate starva- 
 tion for every one, believing that the famished would then 
 suffer less from his hunger. By becoming less comfortable, 
 by being less clean, by depriving the race of refinement, by 
 eating with others out of one bowl, can we overcome arrog- 
 ance? The sympathetic, socialized state of mind would 
 surely have to precede the possibilitj^ of such action done 
 in a spirit of common brotherhood, and if that state of mind 
 were attained the program suggested by Tolstoy would 
 lose its purpose. Instead of seeing virtue in unsanitary con- 
 ditions, ugliness, and coarseness, would not salvation rather 
 lie in the direction of spreading into universality the com- 
 fort and beauty Tolstoy would have us despise? 
 
 Wealth has performed a great service to man in his 
 intellectual and spiritual growth as well as in his material 
 development. Its accumulation requires forethought and 
 self-restraint, and in these qualities is found the power that 
 marks man 's divergence from the lower animals. Evolution 
 has insisted upon the development of these traits because 
 those tribes alone that exercised sufficient vision of future 
 wants to amass a store of goods were allowed to survive. 
 Only by the accumulation of wealth has progress been made 
 possible. AVealth itself should not be denounced, but its 
 
 IT What Is To Be Done?, p. 72 (tr. Wiener, p. 85). 
 
 r
 
 238 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 present distribution. This maladjustment is a remnant from 
 that past when no surplus existed, when terror of want dis- 
 torted the outlook. Wealth, abundant enough to supply a 
 steady surplus, must be the ground upon which any conceiv- 
 able civilization can be erected. A realized sense of se- 
 curity from the danger of material want will eliminate 
 many of the characteristics that keep economic injustice 
 alive. Old habits of mind will be replaced by a new series. 
 Let the idea become ingrained that there is plenty for all, 
 then no one will feel the necessity for protecting himself 
 by depriving others, or if he does, will not find himself jus- 
 tified by public opinion. Old points of view that are mere 
 superstitions in our present world of developed resources 
 still hold mankind in bondage. 
 
 Tolstoy himself was obsessed by this worn-out view. He 
 saw no vision of the future rendered practicable by the new 
 conception of economic plenty. "All men," he writes, "are 
 struggling with want. They are struggling so intensely that 
 alwaj^s around them their brethren, fathers, mothers, chil- 
 dren, are perishing. Men in this world are like those on 
 a dismantled or water-logged ship with a short allowance 
 of food ; all are put by God or by nature in such a position 
 that they must husband their food, and unceasingly war 
 with want."^^ This idea is a vital error in Tolstoy's view 
 of the material world. If we accept it, we must rest con- 
 tent with the existing system, in which some have excess 
 while others are hungry, or we are forced to Tolstoy 's solu- 
 tion of reducing all to ascetic simplicity that the supply 
 may be stretched thin enough to reach them. By basing 
 his reasoning upon this supposition Tolstoy's conclusions 
 are rendered strangely incongruous. We have an example 
 of his inability to make spiritual truths and material facts 
 coalesce. Without recognizing the underlying affinity be- 
 tween the two, small hope can be entertained for the race 
 to reach a higher pitched civilization. Tolstoy sees the 
 
 18 IVhat Is To Be Done?, p. 167 (tr. Wiener, p. 201).
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoij's " What Is To Be Donef" 239 
 
 world under the sway of characteristics induced by the 
 struggle to gain a share of the meagre wealth supply, a 
 fight requiring ruthless, keen-edged weapons if we hold to 
 the supposition that the allowance is short. Instead of 
 seeing the solution which will grow out of more abundant 
 munitions, our author sees only an increment of causes for 
 struggle and enmity. 
 
 With the increase in supply, no corresponding change 
 has as yet woven itself into social concepts. Our economic 
 spiritual state has remained that of the old poverty man 
 on a low level of subsistence. Accumulating wealth has 
 served to emphasize differences, because those fortunate 
 enough to avail themselves of modern facilities have been 
 able to run ahead at a swifter pace. But the very evils of 
 discrimination have become so striking that we can no 
 longer remain blind to their injustice. The lift from the 
 bottom has been slower, but the portion of the wider abund- 
 ance that has fallen to the share of the lowly man has 
 nourished him into more strength. He feels the weight of 
 centuries less in consequence, has straightened a bit beneath 
 the burden which bowed him, has ceased to be a clod devoid 
 of sense of his own woe. 
 
 Quite contrary to Tolstoy's conclusion, the expansion of 
 physical comfort in every-day living has been a socializing 
 influence in itself. The public opinion giving imperative 
 voice to the duty of allowing fairer chance and more 
 material equality is due largely to the extension of the 
 things that Tolstoy regards as despoiling luxuries. Such a 
 recognized necessity have their benefits become that a feel- 
 ing that they should be possessed by all has spread with 
 them. Even those who are not moved by a sympathetic 
 spirit realize the demand for a better standard of cleanli- 
 ness, food, dwelling, and clothing, if society shall be safe 
 from the products of the primitive conditions Tolstoy holds 
 essential to the development of a proper social spirit. 
 Fuller, richer, more comfortable life for the poor would 
 give into their possession the means of passing the gulf of
 
 240 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 material deprivation which now forms a deplorable barrier 
 preventing one class from understanding the other. In so 
 far as wealth is unjustly acquired and distributed, it should 
 be regulated. This is the problem the nations are attacking 
 today. Imperfectly solved though it is, nevertheless even 
 the effort at solution indicates a steady growth into an 
 actual feeling of brotherhood. Wealth has come as a goddess 
 bearing leaves of healing for hunger, sickness, and cold. 
 She has fallen into captivity, has been forced to serve as 
 handmaiden to the unjust, to walk abroad with veiled face. 
 Those faring on the modern quest must tear her smothering 
 veil aside. Revealed in her benevolent beauty, she will 
 move in our midst scattering the gifts she has brought. 
 
 IV 
 
 Tolstoy seeks to set humanity's soul free from slavery 
 to material wants. His method is the defective one of try- 
 ing to eliminate the very things that will lift man above 
 the necessity for concentrating all his energy upon his 
 material needs. A freedom without a sound economic basis 
 can be only a very delusive theory. Unless a proposed 
 system can offer us a sound economic basis, it lacks the 
 essential quality of being workable. Commerce, money, 
 trade, wealth, have themselves elucidated their moral sig- 
 nificance into a growing consciousness demanding a change. 
 Are the changes involved in Tolstoy's scheme those to which 
 the world can look for bringing justice and happiness? 
 
 "I was struck by the facility and simplicity of the 
 solution of all these problems which had formerly seemed 
 to me so difficult and complicated. To the question, 'What 
 have we to do?' I received a very plain answer: Do first 
 what is necessary for yourself; arrange all you can by 
 yourself, — your tea-urn, stove, water, clothes. "^^ Eight 
 hours a day at "bread labor" is his simple declaration of a 
 program whereby mankind is to fulfill all that life means. 
 
 18 What Is To Be Done?, p. 248 (tr Wiener, p. 85).
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoifs ''What Is To Be Done?" 241 
 
 He admits that it would do away with much of our present 
 activity, but he sees no reason for its retention. 
 
 "Such labor will naturally induce people to leave towns 
 for the country, where this labor is most agreeable and 
 productive."^** The assumption is that it is desirable to 
 abolish town life. Tolstoy's view is typically one-sided. 
 He pictures the city as a device for the wealthy to gratify 
 their wish for showy amusements and display. In a desire 
 for pictures, statues, and an attractive dwelling, he discerns 
 only vanity or a wish to excite the envy of others. Nothing 
 but misery can be erected on such a foundation ; necessaries 
 are carried from the rural districts ; the peasants are forced 
 to follow, becoming depraved through the temptations of 
 city life. Such a picture is too readily accepted, finds too 
 quick and gloomy a sympathy in much that we hear com- 
 monly uttered. "We are accustomed to taking a negative 
 view of the results of city living. Just as Tolstoy did, 
 because of an old habit of mind, we condemn the sin and 
 hardship found there without appreciating the construc- 
 tive force in the material we have. For the simple reason 
 that a smaller proportion of labor is required to produce 
 our agricultural supplies than was needed under old, care- 
 less methods, the migration of population to urban centers 
 is an entirely natural shifting. 
 
 The change is not undesirable. Economic development 
 has rescued man from the state designated by Marx as ''the 
 idiocy of rural life. ' ' Rural communities are not untouched 
 by evils. Juvenile court records in cities situated in the 
 midst of agricultural districts contain a large percentage 
 of cases of youth depraved in the village or country and 
 then coming to the city. Rescue homes and reformatories 
 repeat the same true but disregarded warning that our 
 assumption of the superior moral stamina of country popu- 
 lation is false. The rural environment offers a colorless, 
 lifeless existence to the exuberant spirit of youth. Its 
 
 20 lUd., p. 249 (tr. Wiener, p. 299).
 
 242 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 diversions become monotonous to those who are avid for 
 variety in experience. Supervision is lacking; corruption 
 can creep in more insidiously than in the city. Town life 
 with its possibilities for control, possibilities for clean 
 amusements made practicable by the fact that there are a 
 sufficient number of people to support them, town life, offer- 
 ing the inspiration that comes from contact with others, the 
 socializing understanding of human beings possible only 
 where people are agglomerated, offers sufficient ground for 
 making the city a means for good instead of evil. We 
 should not destroy an institution having within it great 
 forces for civilization, for advancement, for human living, 
 but, recognizing that it contains this latent significance, we 
 should grasp it and refuse longer to permit the perversion 
 of such a power. 
 
 Town life, as Tolstoy observes, has gathered wealth. This 
 congestion has resulted in enterprises such as factories, 
 which he deplores as abnormal, not the "natural condition 
 of production." Under his regime, the factory would, of 
 course, be impossible, for manufacture is the most typical 
 form of the cooperation based on the division of labor. If 
 we adopted Tolstoy's system of production, we should be 
 forced back to the earlier form of home manufacture that 
 has been tried and discarded by a progressive civilization. 
 If the pictures we have of that era were brighter, Tolstoy 's 
 suggestion would carry more conviction. The Children's 
 Employment Commission in England (1864) presents us a 
 view of the abuses growing out of home manufacture that 
 should dispel any illusions we have as to its superior whole- 
 someness. 
 
 Lace schools are kept by poor women in their cottages. From 
 their fifth year, and often earlier, until their twelfth or fifteenth 
 year, the children work in these schools; during the first year the 
 very young ones work from four to eight hours, and later on, from 
 six in the morning till eight and ten o'clock at night. The rooms 
 are generally the ordinary living rooms of small cottages, the 
 chimney stopped up to keep out the draughts, the inmates kept
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's " What Is To Be Done?" 243 
 
 warm by their own animal heat alone, and this frequently in winter. 
 In other cases, these so-called school-rooms are like small store- 
 rooms without fireplaces. The overcrowding in these dens and the 
 consequent vitiation of the air are often extreme. Added to this 
 are the injurious effects of drains, decomposing substances, and 
 other filth — usual in the purlieus of the smaller cottages. In one 
 lace school eighteen girls and a mistress, thirty-five cubic feet to 
 a person; in another, where the smell was unbearable, eighteen 
 persons and twenty-four cubic feet per head. Here are to be found 
 children of two to two and a half years.-i 
 
 One other concrete demonstration from real life may- 
 show the result of industry and education in the form to 
 which Tolstoy believes we should adhere : 
 
 The children commence their instruction in straw-plaiting gen- 
 erally in their fourth, often between their third and fourth year. 
 Other education, of course, they get none. The children themselves 
 call the elementary schools "natural schools" to distinguish them 
 from those blood-sucking institutions, in which they are kept at 
 work simply to get through the task, generally thirty yards daily, 
 jirescribed by their half-starved mothers. These same mothers 
 often make them work at home till ten, eleven, and twelve o'clock 
 at night. The straw cuts their mouths, with which they constantly 
 moisten it, and their fingers. . . . Thus do the children enjoy life 
 until the age of twelve or fourteen. The wretched, half-starved 
 parents think of nothing but getting as much as possible out of 
 their children. The latter, as soon as they are grown up, do not 
 care a farthing, and naturally so, for their parents, and leave them. 
 Tt is no wonder that ignorance and vice abound in a population so 
 brought up. Their morality is at the lowest ebb. 22 
 
 Such are the results actually working out from condi- 
 tions of labor practically identical with the plan in which 
 Tolstoy would have us attempt salvation. Under his sys- 
 tem, with eight hours given by each individual to satisfy- 
 ing the most primitive needs, wealth of goods would be 
 dangerously reduced, owing to the lowering in production 
 
 21 Children's Employment Commission, Serond Report (London, 
 1864), pp. 29, 30. 
 
 22 Ibid., pp. 40, 41.
 
 244 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 that would occur. Humanity avouIcI soon fall to that level 
 where want threatens to overtake, and drives on to soul- 
 cramping, sordid toil. 
 
 Want quickens wit. Want's pupils needs must work, 
 
 O Diophantus: for the child of toil 
 
 Is grudged his very sleep by carking cares: 
 
 Or, if he taste the blessedness of night, 
 
 Thought for tne morrow soon warns slumber off.23 
 
 Instead of attaining freedom, the race would be forced into 
 slavery to such things as shelter, clothing, and food. 
 
 "Want quickens wit," and man was soon led to see the 
 stupidity of employing a hundred hands to do the work that 
 could be done by one. The inventiveness that resulted from 
 the desire to outdistance want has always touched the imag- 
 ination of those great minds that interpret humanity, with 
 its power for release. This greeting Aristotle gives: "If 
 every tool when summoned, or even of its own accord, could 
 do the work that befits it, just as the creations of Daedalus 
 moved of themselves, or the tripods of Hephaestos went of 
 their own accord to their sacred work, if the weaver's 
 shuttles were to weave themselves, then there would be no 
 need either of apprentices for the master workers, or of 
 slaves for the lords. "^* 
 
 The invention of the water-wheel was hailed by Anti- 
 paros, a Greek poet of Cicero's time, as the bearer of free- 
 dom to the female slaves and the bringer back of the golden 
 age. In 1782, even when the transition of the industrial 
 revolution made most acute the abuses that perversion of 
 machinery had induced, the German poet, Stolberg, sings 
 the inherent meaning of the machine to the race : 
 
 Schonet der mahlenden Hand, o Miillerinnen, und schlafet 
 Sanft! es verkiinde der Hand euch Morgen umsonst! 
 DJio hat die Arbeit der Madchen den Nymphen befohlen, 
 Und jetz hiipfen sie leicht iiber die Rader dahin, 
 
 23 Theocritus, Idylls, translated by C. S. Calverley (ed. 5, Lon- 
 don, 1908), p. 114. 
 
 24 Aristotle, Philosophy (Berlin, 1842), vol. 2, p. 408.
 
 1912] Matthews : Tolstoy 's ' ' What Is To Be Done ? ' ' 245 
 
 Dass die erschiittenden Achsen mit ihren Speichen sich walzen, 
 Und im Kreise die Last drehen des walzenden Steins, 
 Lasst uns leben das Leben der Viiter, und lasst uns der Gaben 
 Arbeitlos uns freun welehe die Gottin uns sehenkt.25 
 ♦ *»*»» 
 
 Spare the hand that grinds the corn, O miller girls, and softly 
 sleep. Let Chanticleer announce the morn in vain! Deo has com- 
 manded the work of the girls to be done by the Nymphs, and now they 
 skip lightly over the wheels, so that the shaken axles revolve with 
 their spokes and pull around the load of the revolving stones. Let 
 us rest from work and enjoy the gifts the goddess sends us." 
 
 The significant spiritual truth of mechanical inventive- 
 ness has been discerned by those whose genius gives them 
 identification with the universal meaning of life's expres- 
 sions. A strange economic paradox is presented in that 
 the most powerful instrument for freeing man from 
 slavery becomes a means of exploitation. Suffering and 
 abuses, the exploitation of women and children, low 
 wages, pauperism forced upon a large number who would 
 have preferred self-respecting independence, have been 
 darkly conjoined Avith the factory system. Uncompen- 
 sated industrial accidents, loss of life, of which we have a 
 recent and terrible example in the Triangle Factory fire 
 in New York, or others in which slower and more insidious 
 death results from the working conditions of day by day, 
 all must be admitted in our present handling. ' ' So that, ' ' 
 as Tolstoy charges, "if to the question as to the reality of 
 the successes attained by the sciences and arts, we apply, 
 not our rapture of self -contemplation, but the very standard 
 on which the ground of division of labor is defended — 
 utility to the working world — we shall see that we have not 
 yet any sound reason for the self -contentment to which we 
 consign ourselves so willingly."^® 
 
 *'If a peasant uses the railway, and buys a lamp, calico, 
 and matches, he does it only because we cannot forbid his 
 
 25 Christian Stolberg, Gedichte aus dem Griechischen (Hamburg, 
 1782). 
 
 26 What Is To Be Done?, p. 215 (tr. Wiener, p. 260).
 
 246 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 doing so : we all know very well that railways and factories 
 have never been built for the use of the people ; why, then, 
 should the casual comfort a workingman obtains by chance 
 be brought forward as proof of the usefulness of these insti- 
 tutions to the people. "^^ Tolstoy here discerns the fallacy 
 of our reasoning about industrial situations. Viewing the 
 casual comfort the workingman obtains by chance, we con- 
 sign ourselves too readily to self-contentment with things 
 as they are. Instead, however, of concluding with him that 
 the system of production itself should be abolished as use- 
 less, we should rather place in strong contrast the other 
 point of view, which insists upon the interpretation of the 
 force for service inherent within the institutions that we 
 have and with which we must deal, and this more enlight- 
 ened conception will abolish the abuses because those insti- 
 tutions have been rid of the fallacies with w^hich they have 
 so long been defaced. We must remember, however slow the 
 emergence of higher motives is, that, looking back upon the 
 evolution of industrialism, we find hopeful ground for be- 
 lieving that the ethical conquers in the end. History is full 
 of examples where nations, like individuals, have acted un- 
 selfishly and have followed the generous promptings of 
 altruism. We see the opposition that has made the struggle 
 for factory laws a long and painful process and find dis- 
 couragement ; but humanity suffering to the limit of its 
 capacity touches hearts, even the capitalistic heart; so we 
 find also that the needed laws finally win the support of a 
 sufficient number of those who opposed, to make them a 
 working reality. Victories come more easily than in an 
 earlier day. The question is not now so much one of over- 
 coming resistance as it is to devise a scheme that really 
 does mean the widest, happiest living unattended by disas- 
 ter. Here is where the conflict of opinion comes in. Here 
 is Avhere tho.se faring in search for the modern Grail, the tie 
 blending man's material and spiritual development, find the 
 adventure to engage their bravery and wisdom. 
 
 ^T Ibid., p. 216 (tr. Wiener, p. 260),
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 247 
 
 Aside from all the recognized material advantages of 
 division of labor that have become axiomatic, harmony of 
 purpose is also embedded therein, not that opposition which 
 Tolstoy believes to be its concomitant. Only by interde- 
 pendence and the deeper collective consciousness that this 
 develops are the virtues of consideration and justice to each 
 other made a practical necessity. Each class is growing into 
 perceptible appreciation of its dependence on the other and 
 this is creating a spirit that makes it possible to look for- 
 ward to abolishing the abuses of the division of labor. 
 People have learned not to despise those upon whom they 
 rely for services fundamental to life and well-being. The 
 measure of respect that the public accords to employers is 
 frequently the degree of his respect for the rights of his 
 workmen, the understanding he has of how much he owes 
 them for services without which he would be helpless. Un- 
 selfishness is not apt to be the outgrowth of deliberate will. 
 Social unselfishness must usually have its rise in some hard 
 fact of mutual need gradually transmuting itself into un- 
 conscious, effective habit. 
 
 It is true that looking at the long past expressions of 
 division of labor, we see hardly anything to praise, admire, 
 or imitate; we see complex errors forming a big blunder^ — 
 but errors have startled the conscience of society to their 
 consequences. Division of labor has taught the race valu- 
 able lessons in cooperation and human sympathy. We look 
 forward to the time when equalization of toil will come 
 about by a lifting process, instead of by the backward move- 
 ment advocated by Tolstoy, where all are equal because each 
 washes his own clothing and thus learns to be content with 
 dirt ; where each prepares his own food and learns to be 
 satisfied with coarse, monotonous fare ; where each one must 
 be so absorbed in the routine of his own material, funda- 
 mental needs that he has no time either for serving others 
 or for adding to the happiness of society.
 
 248 University of California Priz^, Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 We cannot believe that drudgery is a means for pro- 
 moting more sympathetic living. "The understanding of 
 the greater part of men, ' ' says Adam Smith, ' ' is necessarily 
 formed by their ordinary employment. The man whose life 
 is spent in performing a few simple operations has no occa- 
 sion to exert his understanding. He generally becomes as 
 stupid and ignorant as it is possible for a human creature 
 to become. The torpor of his mind renders him not only 
 incapable of relishing or bearing a part in any rational con- 
 versation, but of conceiving any generous, noble, or tender 
 sentiments, and consequently forming any just judgment 
 concerning many even of the ordinary duties of private 
 life."^^ Tolstoy's system would embody all these evils 
 which we deplore in the perversion of the division of labor. 
 His routine would promote a state wherein virtue is sodden 
 contentment arising from a satisfaction with life narrowed 
 to the details of supplying the merest necessities in the most 
 primitive way. 
 
 Wilks in Historical Sketches in the South of India gives 
 us a picture of such a self-sufficing community : ' ' This sim- 
 plicity supplies the secret of the unchangeableness of 
 Asiatic societies. The structure of the economic elements 
 remains untouched by the storm clouds of the political 
 sky. ' '-^ Stamford Raffles finds similar conditions in Java : 
 "Under this simple form the inhabitants of the country 
 have lived since time immemorial. The villages have been 
 but seldom altered ; and though the villages themselves have 
 been sometimes injured, and even desolated by war, famine, 
 and disease, the same name, the same limits, the same inter- 
 ests, and even the same families have continued for ages. 
 The inhabitants give themselves no trouble about the break- 
 
 2» Wealth of Nations (London, Methuen, 1904), p. 267. 
 2» Mark Wilks, Historical Sketches in the South of India (Lon- 
 don, 1810-17), vol. i, pp. 118-120.
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's"What Is To Be Done?" 249 
 
 ing up and division of kingdoms while the villages remain 
 entire ; they care not to what power it is transferred, or to 
 what sovereign it devolves; its internal economy remains 
 unchanged."^" 
 
 Even did such a life of stupid placidity attract, it is not 
 conceivable that it could exist universally. Total lack of 
 interest in government would soon lead to intolerable des- 
 potism and abuses that only a people of dulled sensibilities 
 could endure. Tolstoy's policy of anarchy is quite useless. 
 Government was evolved to afford relief from the insecurity 
 of a state of savagery which was attended by the constant 
 danger to the individual of being robbed and killed. Bands 
 without government have evidently been unstable and 
 doomed to perish, for we have no trace of such left. Before 
 man can gain anything else, order is requisite, and rigid, 
 definite laws are the primary base for such order. "Men 
 are not born fit for citizenship," observes Spinoza, "but 
 must be made so. "^^ Since human nature is not so con- 
 stituted that men most desire the most useful, "a dominion 
 must be so ordered that all, governing and governed alike, 
 whether they will or no, shall do what makes for the gen- 
 eral welfare. ' '^" 
 
 This necessity for the disciplining power of common 
 rules has been most appreciated by those nearest the remem- 
 brance of a state of disorganization. In our liberal days 
 we are surprised to find Plato, Aristotle, Xenophon, all 
 assuming the extreme difficulty with which man may be 
 governed, and laying down theories of rigor and super- 
 vision far more conservative than we hold after many gen- 
 erations of increasing complexity. If Tolstoy's view is 
 valid, that man reduced to a lower primitive state could 
 wholly be trusted, we might reasonably expect to find such 
 a truth reflected in the writings of those who lived near 
 
 30 Thomas Stamford Eaffles, The History of Java (London, 1817), 
 vol. i, p. 285. 
 
 SI A Political Treatise (London, Bell, 1909), p. 313. 
 
 32 Ibid., p. 316.
 
 250 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. i 
 
 enough to the actual existence of such conditions to hold 
 them within the memory of man. If now we may safely 
 reckon in governmental problems upon obedience and social 
 action, it is because we have come to respond by habit to 
 the conduct those earlier writers hoped to gain only by con- 
 scious enforcement. 
 
 Peculiarly Russian conditions make Tolstoy's statements 
 about the various details of government, such as taxation, 
 exaggerated. In his denunciation we concur all the more 
 readily because other and happier nations have proved how 
 futile and unnecessary are the sufferings due to such severe 
 policies. Our test must be whether he has grasped and set 
 forth any truth of universal significance by which the con- 
 science of the nations should be troubled. "Give me this 
 money, and do what you like among yourselves, but know 
 that I shall neither protect nor maintain widows or orphans 
 nor invalids nor old people, nor such as have been burned 
 out ; I shall only protect the regular circulation of this money. 
 This right will always be mine, to protect only those who 
 regularly give me the fixed number of these pieces of money ; 
 as to how or where you get it, I will not in the least trouble 
 myself. "^^ In taxation he found the concrete expression 
 of a national spirit permeated by pecuniary considerations. 
 This same concrete spirit other nations may exhibit in greed 
 suavely termed industrial enterprise. We see it in a policy 
 of legislation blinded by the show of a respectable pros- 
 perity to the grim realities of poverty, of wage oppression, 
 of exploited and suffering human beings. The long and 
 tragic story of every effort toward protection of the laborer 
 or the improvement of the living conditions of the poor 
 makes vocal the callousness of a large part of society. The 
 fact that the propertied and privileged have been able to 
 retard every movement toward raising the standard for the 
 lower classes, the sordid history of graft, of corrupted law 
 makers, tolerated and even lauded commercial crimes, gives 
 
 33 What Is To Be Done?, p. 119 (tr. Wiener, p. 139).
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's " What Is To Be Done?" 251 
 
 ample evidence of governments blinded in spirit "to pro- 
 tect only those who give me the fixed number of these pieces 
 of money." While this is not a tax in a technical sense, it 
 is, no less, a price exacted from the weak, because govern- 
 ments have assumed that low wages, excessive work hours, 
 wretched living conditions were factors in the prosperity of 
 those who have property and merited protection because 
 they gave "the fixed number of these pieces of money." 
 The insensibility, the mixture of "callousness and senti- 
 mentality, ' ' the complacent prejudice of society, merit such 
 a stinging lash as Tolstoy's scorn of hard and inconsistent 
 national conduct. 
 
 But slowly commerce, treaties, sciences, arts, elucidate 
 themselves into an insistence that they shall be freed from 
 accusations of having nothing but baseness to contribute 
 to the world. By a curious involution economic progress, 
 in whose name governments have committed so many crimes, 
 brings its own vindication. The keen life-struggle has ab- 
 sorbed the time of the people. They have been deterred in 
 a careless disregard of evils growing up about them and have 
 left reform in the hands of selfish politicians. But with 
 productiveness reaching the point of plenty, it is no longer 
 necessary to make every interest subservient to the satisfy- 
 ing of mere material essentials. Surplus energy releases 
 itself into an awakened imagination that grasps the signific- 
 ance of the human organization and insists that government 
 shall measure up to the purpose of its creation. Taxes are 
 more and more being directed into the channel of return by 
 way of better sanitation, better streets, better schools, more 
 efficient public servants. 
 
 Governments have not been required to do enough. They 
 have, to a great extent, been left disregarded by the people 
 whom they ruled. A brief revolution might bring an out- 
 ward change, but it did not grow into a part of the life 
 of the people. Governments have been looked upon as 
 removed from intimate connection with every-day occupa- 
 tions and problems — an automatic machine working without
 
 252 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 public attention. The long centuries when government's 
 chief role was bringing the lawless, wilful human race into 
 marching discipline lingers today in adherence to an atti- 
 tude required by governments in a more primitive time. 
 Very slowly is the encasement of custom removed. 
 
 ' ' It was government by discussion which broke the bonds 
 of ages and set free the originality of mankind."^* Once 
 more are we looking to this force. The Industrial Revolu- 
 tion and the revolution in political thought came together 
 in the eighteenth century. For a time development has con- 
 tinued in a one-sided course. The race was like a hungry 
 boy, who had never had enough to eat, finding himself left 
 unrestrained in a room full of tempting food. But now 
 in these present days other needs are coming to the surface 
 once more. The world is again seizing the fact that "gov- 
 ernment by discussion " is a possession to be used for service. 
 
 VI 
 
 What is to be done? Worn with the sufferings with 
 which he has identified himself, oppressed by the complica- 
 tions, the wrongs, the abuses that entangle the threads of 
 our civilization, Tolstoy expends all his strength on his 
 great summons to the world to abandon its predetermina- 
 tions, to admit and realize that moral laws must be re- 
 garded as a phase of every activity. No one has perceived 
 more deeply the fundamental truth that must be the basis 
 of the world's happiness. "In the same way mankind 
 seems to be occupied with commerce, treaties, wars, sciences, 
 arts; and yet for them one thing only is important, and 
 they do only that, — they are elucidating those moral laws 
 by which they live."^^ The elucidation Tolstoy sees is 
 shadowed darkly by a temperamental gloom which makes 
 him view the bringing about of a better spirit in society 
 as impossible so long as we retain the outward system with 
 
 34 Walter Bagchot, Physics and Politics (London, 1900), p. 135. 
 
 35 What Is To Be Done?, p. 57 (tr. Wiener, p. 67).
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's "What Is To Be Done?" 253 
 
 which our habits conform. A strange lack of logic per- 
 vades his whole book. Depth and fervor of moral sentiment 
 he possesses, which touch many hearts with the indefinable 
 gift of sympathy, love of simple truth, and the things of 
 the spirit. In this must lie his distinction, for he has 
 neither correct thought nor sound judgment to apply to 
 the exigencies of practical organization. Such leaders of 
 souls may even carry peril with them. They incline men 
 to be content with aspirations for lack of direction. "Whole- 
 some living and intellectual integrity result from entertain- 
 ing a set of ideals and principles which, while inspiring and 
 attractive, at the same time are not visionary, but prac- 
 ticable. 
 
 Tolstoy exhibits the same weakness that might come 
 from being too weary to cope with the increasing problems 
 of advancement. He has no vigorous and progressive scheme 
 to offer upon which may be expended the force of the will- 
 ingness for a new conception of life and service which he 
 implants. Sorrow, age, disappointment, bring a desire for 
 peaceful immunity from struggle and effort. The trite, 
 classical ostrich hides his head and deludes himself into a 
 feeling of safety from a purely introspective point of view. 
 Tolstoy presents a combination of the two ideas. He tells 
 humanity that it has become aged and sorrow-stricken, dis- 
 appointed over its mistaken attempts toward happiness, 
 therefore it should retire from the field, believing that 
 refusal to behold the foe will really destroy the foe. 
 
 The barrenness of material comfort ensuing from his 
 program would not deter him. The struggle with elemental 
 conditions would be painful, he admits, but he sees the 
 road to virtue only in such painfulness. "Only by suffer- 
 ings that spiritual fruit is produced,"^" he declares, and 
 again he asserts that man 's welfare consists entirely in self- 
 denial.^^ 
 
 30 Ibid., p. 237 (tr. Wiener, p. 285). 
 37 Ibid., p. 238 (tr. Wiener, p. 286).
 
 254 University of California Prize Essays [You 1 
 
 Patten tells the story of a follower of Rousseau who 
 excited the anger of a policeman and was threatened with 
 arrest for cruelty to his children unless he should clothe 
 more warmly the two little boys shivering in an icy wind 
 as they tearfully trotted back and forth. The father ex- 
 poimded that he was hardening them. "What for?" re- 
 joined the ofificer, "Haven't you a furnace, and aren't the 
 schools warm, and aren 't they making an ordinance to heat 
 street-cars ? Nobody will make them cry but yourself. Those 
 children ought to have long stockings on. ' ' The policeman 
 knew nothing about theories of the desirability of getting 
 back to a state of nature, and, in the light of plain com- 
 mon sense, was annoyed by the irrationality of training 
 children to be innured to dangers existing before universal 
 heating plants. Quite other education was needed for those 
 reluctant little legs to fit them for the world in which they 
 were to live.^^ 
 
 The philosophy of the value of disciplinary hardships 
 is out of harmony with a civilization having ample resources. 
 The new education must fit the race to live in a rich and 
 lavish world. Systems of ethics must keep pace with the 
 possibilities for expression earth offers. Hitherto man has 
 sought to reconcile himself to the * ' sweet uses of adversity, ' ' 
 so often have his desires and endeavors been forced to ap- 
 pear the antithesis of what was practicable in an environ- 
 ment full of disaster, emptiness, and uncertainties. He 
 sought comfort in the belief that the finest characters were 
 the result of suffering. The assumption has been that the 
 world to be met was barren and full of pain. Saints and 
 ascetics have been revered for giving proof of their ability 
 to endure an artificial hunger and discomfort not imposed 
 by natural lot. The gloomy soul in literature and in art 
 has too often been hailed as the truest interpreter of life's 
 meaning. 
 
 38 S. N. Patten, The New Basis of Civilization (New York, Mae- 
 millan, 1907), p. 152.
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 255 
 
 Economic precariousness, education, religion, have united 
 to make us fearful of looking to joy and plenty for building 
 of character. Beholding the dasires of the race expanding 
 to meet the developed productiveness, we hear deploring 
 voices crying out, as Tolstoy does, upon the tendency to- 
 ward comfort and beauty as ennervating and inherently 
 destructive of virtue. If they are, then our case is hopeless, 
 for the days of profuse wealth are upon us. There are two 
 courses : Sacrifice and strife for necessities may be retained 
 as arts or professions, which Tolstoy 's method would amount 
 to ; or we may direct the development of man into the type 
 fitted to live in an environment of peace and plenty. 
 
 In the dreary view^ that beauty of character springs only 
 from a barren soil exposed to cold and tempest, we find a 
 worn-out theory that man adopted in despair, when hard 
 pressed by conditions from which he saw no escape and 
 against which he would otherwise have been bitterly rebel- 
 lious. But commerce, treaties, governments, sciences, and 
 all the varied business of the world have shown more than 
 anything else that economic safety and a fuller life con- 
 stantly make men better, and that these activities them- 
 selves have implanted traits needful for the richer medium 
 they have created for a dwelling-place. The acquired pes- 
 simism of ages is not easily cast off. Man has suffered so 
 many calamities that he cannot yet trust the permanency of 
 the promise of a better era. Optimism, blindness, super- 
 ficiality, are charged against those who declare themselves 
 cheered by the indications of present tendencies. Granting 
 the soundness of the material foundation embedded in the 
 solid fact of industrial achievement, we are met with doubt- 
 ing fears that man may not be equal to evolving sufficient 
 character for sustaining himself if he is no longer forced 
 to endure the perils of hunger, battle, and insecurity. 
 
 The good, old-fashioned virtues are shrouded in much 
 misconception, built up to make the best of a bad situation. 
 Cunning, greed, insensibility, brute force, are developed in 
 an age characterized by deficit, disease, oppression. "We may
 
 256 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. 1 
 
 call them keenness, thrift, endurance, bravery if we will, 
 but it does not alter their real nature, as we shall come to 
 appreciate when we catch the expression of those traits 
 made possible by the new age of surplus and security. If 
 we wish to make a fruit-tree thrive w^e select the best soil 
 for it, where it is sheltered from frosts and buffeting winds. 
 The owner of a stock farm, in order to bring out the strong 
 points of his valuable herds, does not expose them to cutting 
 storms, to wretched pasture, and to beasts of prey. The 
 survivors of such treatment may, indeed, be judged to have 
 proved unusual toughness, but it does not follow that this 
 quality could not have been expended to better advantage 
 than in resisting useless hardships, nor that the purpose of 
 raising cattle, sheep, and horses is to demonstrate how much 
 they can endure and still live. 
 
 Society must detach itself from the concept that barren 
 conditions and pain carry with them compensations in the 
 way of superior character. The gnawing of hunger for 
 sufficient food, for amusement, for light and beauty, has 
 driven more girls into the unspeakable degradation and 
 weakness of prostitution than it has ever helped to a higher 
 plane by giving them opportunity for endurance and re- 
 sistance. Poverty has inculcated a pauper spirit much 
 oftener than it has incited industry and virtuous content- 
 ment with simplicity. A weary hardness, a saddened and 
 distorted outlook, are far more apt to follow a long period 
 of suffering than are those "spiritual fruits" which make 
 for breadth and depth of character. 
 
 Two concepts, then, must place themselves side by side : 
 one is that hideous deformity frequently results from suf- 
 fering, those escaping it doing so because of some power 
 within themselves not at all to be credited to the pain in- 
 flicted upon them ; the second is that there is no longer any 
 economic excuse for the social sufferings that have their 
 root in an older age of insufficiency. Comprehending these 
 two salient facts, society cannot complacently accept unjust 
 conditions in the distribution of wealth. Public opinion will
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's^What Is To Be Done?" 257 
 
 give stronger wing and swifter flight to those schemes of 
 reconstruction promising a solution of the maladjustments 
 that rob children of playtime and youth, that force many 
 to work long, monotonous hours when machines have been 
 devised to release mankind from such necessity, that leave 
 shivering men to seek in vain for employment in a w^orld 
 where there is plenty to do. 
 
 Wlien individual life and misery give concreteness to 
 such maladjustments, we are ready to shatter the old sorry 
 scheme of things to bits in order to "remould it nearer to 
 the heart's desire." We are glad, then, to discover that 
 commerce, factories, inventions, money, sciences, are ca- 
 pable of an interpretation which permits society to retain 
 them, so that no such ruthless shattering as Tolstoy advocates 
 is required. The changing order demonstrates itself in a 
 new" form of legislation forbidding exploitation, regulating 
 working conditions, instituting insurance against the pov- 
 erty of old age, sickness, unemployment. Above all, it ex- 
 presses itself in a slowly shifting point of view, built up 
 from the spirit of cooperation necessitated by our indus- 
 trial interdependence, making for the universality of per- 
 sonal identification that Tolstoy so truthfully sees must 
 underlie social justice. 
 
 Are we to conclude, then, that "the heart's desire" must 
 be eliminated, that man's w^elfare "entirely consists in self- 
 denial ? ' ' Tolstoy declares that God and nature have put all 
 in a position where "they must unceasingly war with 
 want. "^'^ But since the progress of the centuries proves 
 to us now that we need not devote our entire time to this 
 war, does not one of the moral elucidations of economic 
 activities seem to be that self-denial is not the highest ex- 
 pression of harmony with nature and with God? Sacrifice 
 accepted for the paramount, governing principle in any 
 life leads to inaction. All energy would be poured into 
 negation. Would it not also mean repression of force that 
 
 39 See p. 238 of this paper.
 
 258 University of California Prize Essays [Vol. l 
 
 should be expended for good ? Expression, vivid, awakened 
 activity gives the force for progress and attainment. Moral 
 characteristics rise when channels are opened for proper 
 self-expression. A young girl from a parasitical, ignorant 
 people exhibiting chiefly the traits of economic vagabond- 
 age, w^as compelled by means of law and a diligent truant 
 officer to attend school. The child 's environment had never 
 given her a glimpse of the possibility of finding work 
 pleasureable. Her desire for beauty had satisfied itself only 
 by means of a bit of tawdry ribbon or silk which she had 
 picked from the loads deposited on the city dump near 
 which she lived. Food was seldom sufficient. Self-denial 
 had been the ordering program of her life. The teacher into 
 whose charge she came was full of an animation which gave 
 her an air of keen pleasure in her tasks. The prettiness of 
 her clothing was a matter of course that impressed the 
 child's mind strangely. The next sununer the child drifted 
 carelessly into work as a milliner's errand girl. She blun- 
 dered, shirked, fell into Juvenile Court hands because she 
 had formed associations dangerous to her morality. The 
 officer in whose charge she was placed, discovered that the 
 teacher of the previous winter was the object of the girl's 
 chief admiration and wonder. It was suggested that she 
 might be like the teacher. The habit of self-denial was 
 so rooted that it had never occurred to her to think that 
 she could express any of her own longings for better things 
 than heredity had bestowed on her. When the new idea 
 was presented to her imagination, her indifference to life 
 and to her own place in it fell from her. Perseverance and 
 self-control asserted themselves. The fresh interest aroused 
 responsive virtues which overcame the difficulties of a 
 seemingly impassable road until the girl became a creature 
 expressing herself in useful work, in health, and in morality 
 attained solely because she had abandoned the old rut of 
 self-denial. Tolstoy's complete day of work, pleasure, and 
 rest was incorporated into this girl's life by combination 
 of the very forces he believes destructive to that end.
 
 1912] Matthews: Tolstoy's ''What Is To Be Done?" 259 
 
 The ideal civilization toward whicli the centuries have 
 been striving cannot be brought upon the world suddenly 
 by a great cataclysmic change. Generations, perhaps, must 
 pass before the race reaches even the intellectual and spirit- 
 ual level made possible economically for the present age. 
 We are bound down by the heredity of the barren days. In- 
 dividuals will hinder progress by their selfishness, super- 
 stitions, and bigotries. Even now hypocrisy assumes to 
 spread the social virtues, threatening their existence by 
 petrifying them into conventionality and complacency. 
 Vices and outworn traits can be altered only by a long, long 
 process of new suggestions giving the incentive of vivid 
 interest to conduct exemplifying the higher motives. Society 
 must direct its power of control toward making the world 
 a safe place for self-expression. Love of light, beauty, and 
 joy should find means of gratification not ending in vice and 
 degradation. Conditions of work should be created for 
 making labor a means of interested, happy sharing in the 
 activities of the earth. 
 
 Groping about for happiness by the application of old 
 formulae, society finds itself overtaken by a new world pre- 
 senting an environment of economic plenty to which the 
 old rules do not apply. Tolstoy in What Is To Be Donef 
 reflects the attitude of humanity that, surprised and be- 
 wildered, has not yet recognized the face of a friend. The 
 old age of brute force, deficit, and enforced self-denial is 
 vanishing. That we have as yet proved ourselves to have 
 developed equally is to be questioned, and Tolstoy is the 
 most emphatic challenger of our social spiritual state that 
 the century has produced. "The sun is already setting be- 
 hind the wood, and the ricks are not yet in order; there is 
 still much to be done."
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara College Library 
 Santa Barbara, California 
 
 Return to desk from which borrowed. 
 This book is DUE on-the last date stamped below.
 
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 526 prize essays 
 
 T7_ 
 
 Tolstoy' s 
 
 What^sKalX we do tlien? 
 
 BINDERY fi^U^_?/ 
 
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 526 
 
 T7