“I am living an utterly bestial life,” he writes in his Journal. “I am as low as one can fall.” Then, with his mania for analysis, he notes minutely the causes of his errors:
“1. Indecision or lack of energy. 2. Self-deception. 3. Insolence. 4. False modesty. 5. Ill-temper. 6. Licentiousness. 7. Spirit of imitation. 8. Versatility. 9. Lack of reflection.”
While still a student he was applying this independence of judgment to the criticism of social conventions and intellectual superstitions. He scoffed at the official science of the University; denied the least importance to historical studies, and was put under arrest for his audacity of thought. At this period he discovered Rousseau, reading his Confessions and Émile. The discovery affected him like a mental thunderbolt.
“I made him an object of religious worship. I wore a medallion portrait of him hung round my neck, as though it were a holy image.”[1]
His first essays in philosophy took the form of commentaries on Rousseau (1846–47).
In the end, however, disgusted with the University and with “smartness,” he returned to Yasnaya Polyana, to bury himself in the country (1847–51); where he once more came into touch with the people. He professed to come to their assistance, as their benefactor and their teacher. His experiences of this period have been related in one of his earliest books, A Russian Proprietor (A Landlord’s
- ↑ Conversations with M. Paul Boyer (Le Temps), August 28, 1901.
