of sleeping when he was sleepy, and of talking when
he felt the desire to exchange some words....
Later in life he always recurred with joy to this
month of captivity, and never failed to speak with
enthusiasm of the powerful and ineffaceable sensations,
and especially of the moral calm which he had experienced
at this epoch. When at daybreak, on the morrow
of his imprisonment, he saw [I abridge here Tolstoi’s
description] the mountains with their wooded slopes
disappearing in the grayish mist; when he felt the
cool breeze caress him; when he saw the light drive
away the vapors, and the sun rise majestically behind
the clouds and cupolas, and the crosses, the dew,
the distance, the river, sparkle in the splendid, cheerful
rays,—his heart overflowed with emotion.
This emotion kept continually with him, and increased
a hundred-fold as the difficulties of his situation
grew graver.... He learnt that man is meant for
happiness, and that this happiness is in him, in the
satisfaction of the daily needs of existence, and
that unhappiness is the fatal result, not of our need,
but of our abundance.... When calm reigned in
the camp, and the embers paled, and little by little
went out, the full moon had reached the zenith.
The woods and the fields roundabout lay clearly visible;
and, beyond the inundation of light which filled them,
the view plunged into the limitless horizon.
Then Peter cast his eyes upon the firmament, filled
at that hour with myriads of stars. ‘All
that is mine,’ he thought. ’All that
is in me, is me! And that is what they think they
have taken prisoner! That is what they have shut
up in a cabin!’ So he smiled, and turned in
to sleep among his comrades."[M]
[M] La Guerre et la Paix,
Paris, 1884, vol. iii. pp. 268, 275, 316.
The occasion and the experience, then, are nothing.
It all depends on the capacity of the soul to be grasped,
to have its life-currents absorbed by what is given.
“Crossing a bare common,” says Emerson,
“in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded
sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence
of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect
exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear.”
Life is always worth living, if one have such responsive
sensibilities. But we of the highly educated
classes (so called) have most of us got far, far away
from Nature. We are trained to seek the choice,
the rare, the exquisite exclusively, and to overlook
the common. We are stuffed with abstract conceptions,
and glib with verbalities and verbosities; and in
the culture of these higher functions the peculiar
sources of joy connected with our simpler functions
often dry up, and we grow stone-blind and insensible
to life’s more elementary and general goods
and joys.