The personal isolation he craved was never to be his; but the isolation
of spirit essential to leadership, whether of thought or action, grew
year by year, so that in his own household he was veritably "in it but
not of it."

At times his loneliness weighed upon him, as when he wrote: "You would
find it difficult to imagine how isolated I am, to what an extent my
true self is despised by those who surround me." But he must, none
the less, have realised, as all prophets and seers have done, that
solitariness of soul and freedom from the petty complexities of social
life are necessary to the mystic whose constant endeavour is to simplify
and to winnow, the transient from the eternal.

Notwithstanding the isolation of his inner life he remained--or it might
more accurately be said he became--the most accessible of men.

Appeals for guidance came to him from all parts of the world--America,
France, China, Japan--while Yasnaya Polyana was the frequent resort of
those needing advice, sympathy, or practical assistance. None appealed
to him in vain; at the same time, he was exceedingly chary of explicit
rules of conduct. It might be said of Tolstoy that he became a spiritual
leader in spite of himself, so averse was he from assuming authority.
His aim was ever to teach his followers themselves to hear the inward
monitory voice, and to obey it of their own accord. "To know the meaning
of Life, you must first know the meaning of Love," he would say; "and
then see that you do what love bids you." His distrust of "epidemic
ideas" extended to religious communities and congregations.

"We must not go to meet each other, but go each of us to God. You say