The Autobiographical Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Fyodor Dostoyevsky
to unite in ideas, science, literature and art. Whereas the Germanic nations organised Olympic games in order to show each other the strength of their mailed fists, we Slavs would organise more intelligent Olympiads, assembling in turn in our various capitals to admire the pictures and statues of our artists, listen to the music of our composers, and hear readings from our poets and men of letters. Instead of exhausting ourselves in fratricidal wars as the unhappy Germans have done, we would help, encourage, and fraternise with our fellows. Before offering the new law of Christian democracy to the world, we would begin by showing other nations an example of brotherhood and equality. This consimimation seems very remote at present. The Slavs, but newly delivered from the yoke, are busy fixing the frontiers of their little states. They are right; before embarking on vast enterprises, it is well to consoUdate one's own dwelling. But when all these houses—Russian, Serbian, Czech and others—have been solidly built, the masons will lift up their heads and begin to work out the great destiny of their race.
And yet this Slav dream may be realised sooner than we think. The League of Nations, that last refuge of feudal Imperialism, may play a great part in the organisation of the Slav Confederation. The more tactless Europeans exasperate the Slavs, meddhng in their domestic affairs and trying to bend them to their will, the sooner will the Slavs begin to build up their fraternal union. The League of Nations will soon be confronted by a formidable Slav Confederation, which will be followed, logically and inevitably, by a Confederation of all the Germanic nations. The world is entering on a new phase of its civilisation. The ancient alliance between the countries of different races, the work of kings and diplomatists, has had its day. It was an anomaly, for the people in question generally hated each other the while they lavished compliments and marks of respect. The new confederations, based upon the fraternal sympathy of people of the same race, will be more durable. As they will be about equal in strength, these Slav, Germanic, Latin and Anglo-Saxon confederations will suppress war more surely than could a League of Nations, an antiquated expedient which was once adopted in Europe under the name of the Holy Alliance and lasted but a short time. When the Imperialistic countries feel the ground giving way beneath their feet, they league themselves together, hoping to arrest the popular movement by their united strength. Vain hope 1 We can combat men, but not ideas. The peoples of to-day desire above all things to be free and independent. They will suffer no tutelage, no matter under what form it may be proposed.
XXVII
COUNTESS ALEXIS TOLSTOY'S SALON
Among the literary salons of Petersburg frequented by Dostoyevsky in the last years of his life, the most remarkable was that of Countess Alexis Tolstoy, the widow of the poet Alexis Tolstoy. Her family was of Mongolian origin, and she had one of those incisive minds — " sharp as steel," as Dostoyevsky said—^which in Russia are only to be met with among persons of such descent. The Slav mind is slower, and needs long preliminary reflection before it can grasp a subject. The Countess was one of those inspiring women who are incapable of creating themselves but can suggest fine themes to writers. Her husband had a great respect for her intellect, and never pubhshed anything before consulting her. When she became a widow she settled in Petersburg. She was rich and had no children, but she was greatly attached to a niece whom she had brought up and married to a diplomatist. This diplomatist had been sent on a mission to Persia, and while awaiting his appointment to a more civilised post, the niece and her children made their home with the Countess. When Countess Tolstoy arrived in Petersburg she received all her husband's former comrades, the poets and novelists of his day, and sought to extend her literary circle. After meeting my father, she invited him to her house, and was charming to him. My father dined with her, went to her evening receptions, and was persuaded to read some chapters of The Brothers Karamazov aloud in her drawing-room before their publication. He got into the habit of going to see Countess Tolstoy during his afternoon walk, to talk over the news of the day with her. My mother, who was of a rather jealous disposition, made no objection to these visits, for at this time the Countess was past the age of seduction. Dressed always in black, with a widow's veil over her simply arranged grey hair, she sought to please only by her inteUigence and amiability. She rarely went out, and at four o'clock was always at home, ready to give Dostoyevsky his cup of tea. She was a highly educated woman, had read a great deal in all European languages, and often called my father's attention to some interesting article that had appeared in Europe. Dostoyevsky, absorbed in creative work, was unable to read as much as he would have liked to do. Count Alexis Tolstoy's health had been bad, and he had spent the greater part of his life abroad, making a great many foreign friends, with whom the Countess kept up a regular correspondence. They in their turn sent their friends who were visiting Petersburg to her, and they became famihar figxu-es in her salon. Conversing with them, Dostoyevsky remained in contact with Europe, which he had always considered his second fatherland. The pohshed amenity that reigned in the Countess' salon was an agreeable change from the vulgarity of other interiors. Some of his former friends of the Petrachevsky circle had made fortunes, and were lavish of invitations to the illustrious writer. My father visited at their houses, but their ostentatious luxury was distasteful to him; he preferred the comfort and the subdued elegance of Countess Tolstoy's salon.
Thanks to my father, this salon soon became the fashion and attracted numerous visitors. " When Countess Sophie invited us to her evenings, we went if we had no other invitations more interesting; but when she added: Dostoyevsky has promised to come, we forgot all other engagements and hastened to her house," said an old lady of the great Russian world (now a refugee in Switzerland) to me the other day. Dostoyevsky's admirers in the higher circles of Petersburg applied to Countess Tolstoy to make them acquainted with him. She placed her good offices at their disposal, although the business was not always very easy. Dostoyevsky was no worldling, and he did not care to make himself agreeable to persons who were uncongenial to him. When he met people of feeUng, good and honest souls, he was so kind to them that they could never forget it, and twenty years later would repeat the words he had said to them. But when he found himself in the company of one of the numerous snobs who swarm in the drawing-rooms of a capital, he remained obstinately silent. In vain Countess Tolstoy would try to draw him out by adroit questions, my father would answer " Yes " or " No " abstractedly, and continue to study the snob as if he were some strange and injurious insect. Thanks to this uncompromising attitude he made many enemies; but this was never a matter he took very seriously.97
97 This haughtiness was in strong contrast to the exquisite politeness and amiability with which he would answer the letters of his provincial admirers. Dostoyevsky knew that his ideas and his counsels were sacred in the eyes of aU these country doctors, schoolmistresses, and obscure parish priests, whereas the snobs of Petersburg were only interested in him because he was the fashion.
It will perhaps be objected that a great writer Uke Dostoyevsky should have been more indulgent to stupid and ill-bred people. But my father was right to treat them with contempt, for snobbery, introduced among us by the barons of the Baltic Provinces, was disastrous to Russia. Feudal Europe has been used for centuries to bow before titled persons, capitalists and highly placed functionaries. The baseness of Europeans in this connection has often amazed me during my travels abroad. The Russian, with his ideal of fraternal equality, does not understand snobbery and is repelled by it. My compatriots look upon the haughty attitude of the snob as a provocation and an insult, which they never forget and are eager to avenge. Two centuries of Baltic snobbery brought about the disintegration of Russia. On the eve of the Revolution all our classes were at daggers drawn. The hereditary nobility hated the aristocracy, which encircled the throne like a great Wall of China; the merchants were hostile to the nobles, who despised them and would not mix with them; the clergy were impatient of the humble position they occupied in the Empire; the intellectuals, who had sprung from the people, were indignant when they found that Russian society looked upon them as moujiks, in spite of their superior education. If all had followed Dostoyevsky's example and waged war against snobbery, the Russian Revolution might have followed a different course.
In Countess Tolstoy's salon, as in the soireis of the students, Dostoyevsky had even more success with the women than with the men, and for the same reason