He had great admiration for the German novelist Berthold Auer- baeh, author of Schwarzwdlder Dorfgescliichten (Scenes of Village Life in the Black Forest), who, judging from his books, shared Tolstoy's ideas about education. One morning Auerbach saw a short, stocky, bearded stranger, with little steely eyes beneath thick, bushy brows, enter his drawing room, bow and say, "I am Fugcne Baumann!"—the name of one of Auerbach's characters. The author froze, thinking that this determined-looking individual was intending to sue him for defamation. But a smile flitted across his guest's thick lips and he added, "I am Eugene Baumann by nature, not by name." And he introduced himself: Count Leo Tolstoy, author and schoolteacher. Relieved, Auerbach invited the Russian to sit down. They understood each other from the first word. "All methods are sterile," said Auerbach. "Anybody can be a great teacher. It's the children who crcatc the best teaching methods, together with their teachcr."2 Tolstoy scarcely had time to nod his head.
At Kissingen, where he went next for his teeth, he met Julius Froe- bel, nephew of the originator of the kindergarten and himself the author of The System of Social Politics. His impression of the German pedagogue was of a "liberal-aristocrat" and a "chatterbox," utterly "emptied" by politics. He even went so far as to call him, disdainfully, "nothing but a Jew." Further, Frocbcl was unwilling to admit that all constraint in the education of the people was harmful and that education in Russia would ultimately progress faster because Russian children were still unspoiled, whereas the German children had been contaminated by retrograde methods. Despite these areas of disagreement between tlie two, Froebel introduced Tolstoy to the European systems of education and advised him what to read, recommending the economist Wilhclm Riehl's Kulturgeschichte in particular.
Now and then, for a change of scenery, Tolstoy went off on trips into Thuringia or the Ilarz Mountains. He went to Wartburg and saw the room in which Luther began his translation of the Bible, but it did not occur to him to go to Sodcn, only a short distance from Kissingen, where Nicholas was quietly dying. The sick man was saddened by Leo's delay: "Uncle Leo lingers on at Kissingen, five hours from Soden, but he does not come to Soden, and so I have not seen him," he wrote to Fet on July 20 (August 1), i8fo.
What was going on in Tolstoy's mind? Nothing very specific; he put off the painful duty of seeing his brother from one day to the next, he was playing for time, holding his anguish at bay, out of cowardice, because it was easier. But it suddenly became impossible for him to feign ignorance any longer: his other brother, Sergey, stopped at Kissingen
on his way back to Russia. He had lost all his money at roulette and had to return to Pirogovo, where Marya Shishkin—the gypsy with whom he had now been living for some ten years—was waiting for him. According to Sergey, their brother's condition had deteriorated considerably. 'l he news affected Tolstoy, but not enough to drag him out of his apathy. He remained at Kissingcn, sighing over his elder brother's fate and ruminating a scheme for the abolition of roulette.
On July 28 (August 9), i860, Sergey left for Russia and Nicholas arrived in Kissingen in person, exhausted by a five-hour train trip under a leaden sky. He could not bear his younger brother's silence any longer. Since Leo refused to comc to him, it was lie, summoning his last remaining strength, who went to Leo.
Although he had long since left the army, Nicholas was still wearing a faded artillery tunic. I lis hands were large, dirty and diaphanous. Great intelligent eyes burned with fever in his hollow scarlct-chccked mask. He breathed as little as possible, for fear of starting a coughing fit. Alcohol and tuberculosis had consumed his body, but the same sadly ironic smile twisted his lips when lie looked at his brother. He admired Leo's talent as a writer and teased him about his worldly escapades, flings with the peasant girls, turnalxnit moods and bouts of breast- beating, which were often nothing but disguised bursts of self-love. "The attitude of humility that Leo Tolstoy cultivated in theory," Turgenev said, "was actually applied by his brother Nicholas. He always lived in some impossible slum in a remote part of town, and was ready- to share whatever he had with the poor."
Stricken with remorse at the sight of the condemned man, Tolstoy swore not to leave his side again. lie wrote in his diary on July 31 (August 12): "Nicholas is in a dreadful state. Extremely intelligent, clcar-headcd. At the same time, has a will to live but no vital energy." But the next day he let Nicholas go back alone to Soden. His selfishness had triumphed over his conscience. And by staying where he was, lie spared his sensitive soul. Besides, he had no talent for nursing: "Nicholas has left. I don't know what to do. Marya is also unwell. I am being no use to anyone." (August 1 [13], i860.) He complained of his uselessness for another two weeks, but it never occurred to him that by going to Soden lie would be making himself useful. lie continued to see Froebel, became more and more fascinated with the subject of education, wrote to Aunt Toinette for news of the Yasnaya Polyana school, which had just been reopened by a teacher3 he had hired before he left. . . . Suddenly, he wanted to be back among his muzhiks, wearing the same dress as they, instead of wasting his time abroad. In the night of August 10-11 (22-23) he had a nightmare that left him perplexed: "Dreamed that I was dressed as a peasant and my mother did not recognize mc,"1 he wrote. Did this mean that "going over to the people" was just a hollow pretense and his mother, whom he adored but had never known, was rejecting him from on high? His most noble thoughts were soured by a sneaking sense of self-dcccption, and he had caught cold, which made him even gloomier. "All day long I was obsessed by fear for my lungs."5 He saw a doctor, who told him he was suffering from a "vasomotor" disturbance. This diagnosis abruptly tipped the scales: he took the train for Soden, to undergo treatment himself.
The welcome he received from Nicholas, so cheerful and confident in spite of his extreme feebleness, stirred him to the core, but he found his sister Marya "boring and bored." He felt better and quite forgot about his own treatment. Besides, the weather was turning bad, it rained all the time, a damp chill was creeping into the rooms. At Soden, and then at Frankfort, the doctors advised Nicholas to try the South of France. Leo, Marya and her three children accompanied him, and they all arrived together at Hyeres, 011 August 24 (September 6), i860. The two men stayed in town, at Mme. Senequier's pension on the rue du Midi, and Marya and her children rented a villa a few miles away.