with thy feet, thou wilt be filled with a sense of independence, liberty, and strength; thou wilt no longer think of flying, but thou wilt taste, with a pure joy, innocent pleasures of which the world has never given thee the least notion. Thou wilt know at last those strong, simple-hearted men, thy own brothers, who, notwithstanding the distance at which they have hitherto stood apart from thee, have always nourished thee.
To thy great satisfaction, thou wilt see in them virtues hitherto unknown; thou wilt find in them a modesty and goodness of which thou wilt feel unworthy. Instead of scorn and hatred from those that wait upon thee, thou wilt receive gratitude and respect, because, after having lived by their services all thy life, thou wilt now remember their miseries and endeavor with feeble hands to succor them. Thou wilt find that the islet on which thou didst seek refuge from the flood that would have engulfed thee is but a heap of rubbish, whilst the seeming sea thou didst fear is the earth itself. Thou wilt now tread it with bold, tranquil, and joyous feet.
It will be thus with thee, because in abandoning the dark, false ways in which thou hast been wandering unwittingly and against thy true intention, thou wilt now enter upon the path of truth and life. Having hitherto disobeyed God's will, thou wilt now faithfully accomplish it.
Lyof Tolstoï.
Moscow, March, 1888.
