factory manner. After many wanderings and many perilous lingerings on the very verge of despair, he bethought himself of the thousands and millions of human beings who go about their daily tasks and take up their daily burdens without repining or misgiving, who find a natural sweetness in life, and never think of worrying themselves over questions of ontology or metaphysics. These, he said to himself, must possess the true secret of life, and the best thing I can do is to learn it of them.
Tolstoi was here getting upon solid ground. His previous life had been governed without any reference to cardinal principles of duty or to the essential relations of human beings to one another. One of the aphorisms of the founder of the Positive Philosophy is that between individual man and the universe humanity is needed as mediator. Suppress humanity, that is to say, suppress all true thoughts in regard to humanity, suppress the sense of inclusion in and identification with the great human whole, and individual man is indeed a poor, defenseless thing, or, as Matthew Arnold has expressed it—
"A naked, eternally restless mind."
No words could describe better than these the true condition of the great Russian's mind when the scales had fallen from his eyes, and he realized in what a vain show he had been walking. Peace came to him through his suddenly awakening to a sense of the vastness of the life of humanity, and his sudden resolve to take refuge in it, and, as far as possible, to make its thoughts and feeling his own. The lesson in all this is obvious, and it is in direct line with our remarks in a previous number under the head of "The Domain of Science." There is a science of life. There is a way of regarding our relations to the world at large which is true; and, unfortunately, there are many ways of regarding them which are false. There are thoughts, tempers, dispositions, habits, that make for soundness both of mind and body, and there are others in great variety that make for unsoundness. There are certain normal conditions of existence determined by the whole course of human evolution; and these can not be too widely departed from, under the guidance of purely individual feelings, without serious danger. The work of placing life on a sound basis may be begun at any time, though early is indeed much better than late. It is all a question of seeing things in their right relations and acting accordingly all a question of extending the domain of science from biology and physiology to sociology and individual conduct. Rightly read, Tolstoi's "Confession," though it mentions science but disparagingly, should be a great help in this direction. It certainly contains a grave warning against the tyranny of the passions and the utter hollowness of much that passes for literature and philosophy.
THE LAND QUESTION.
It is almost needless to direct attention to the letters on the land question published in this issue, as the names of certain of the writers would alone create interest in the discussion. Mr. Spencer, unfortunately, has been for some time in a state of health that almost wholly incapacitates him for the labor of the pen; and, though he has given us two very interesting letters, most readers will feel that he has hardly done full justice to his own position. He has confined himself to the criticisms of Prof. Huxley, and passed unnoticed those of Mr. Greenwood and Sir Louis Mallet. Had he possessed his old-time fire and energy, he would probably have dealt with all his critics in a manner that would have left little to be desired; we may be sure at least that he would have considered fully and fairly all their objections to his views, and would have given any necessary explanations in that spirit of candor which has always distinguished him.
