deductions of reason, and for following whither they led me. On
arriving at this practical deduction, I was amazed at the ease and
simplicity with which all the problems which had previously seemed
to me so difficult and so complicated, were solved.

To the question, "What is it necessary to do?" the most indubitable
answer presented itself: first of all, that which it was necessary
for me to do was, to attend to my own samovar, my own stove, my own
water, my own clothing; to every thing that I could do for myself.
To the question, "Will it not seem strange to people if you do
this?" it appeared that this strangeness lasted only a week, and
after the lapse of that week, it would have seemed strange had I
returned to my former conditions of life. With regard to the
question, "Is it necessary to organize this physical labor, to
institute an association in the country, on my land?" it appeared
that nothing of the sort was necessary; that labor, if it does not
aim at the acquisition of all possible leisure, and the enjoyment of
the labor of others,--like the labor of people bent on accumulating
money,--but if it have for its object the satisfaction of
requirements, will itself be drawn from the city to the country, to
the land, where this labor is the most fruitful and cheerful. But
it is not requisite to institute any association, because the man
who labors, naturally and of himself, attaches himself to the
existing association of laboring men.

To the question, whether this labor would not monopolize all my
time, and deprive me of those intellectual pursuits which I love, to
which I am accustomed, and which, in my moments of self-conceit, I
regard as not useless to others? I received a most unexpected reply.
The energy of my intellectual activity increased, and increased in