"For a long time I have not written to you, because I was and I am on
my death-bed. I cannot get well, it is not even to be thought of. I
write to tell you how happy I am to have been your contemporary, and
to send you one last petition. My friend! resume your literary work!
It is your gift, which comes from whence comes everything else. Ah!
how happy I should be if I could only think that my words would have
some influence on you! . . . I can neither eat nor sleep. But it is
tiresome to talk about such things. My friend, great writer of our
Russian land, listen to my request. Let me know if you get this bit of
paper, and permit me once more to heartily embrace you and yours. I
can write no more. I am exhausted."

Tolstoi cannot be blamed for paying no heed to this earnest appeal,
because every man must follow his conscience, no matter whither it may
lead. He felt that he could not even reply to it, as he had grown so
far away from "literature" as he had previously understood it. But the
letter is a final illustration of the modesty and greatness of
Turgenev's spirit; also of his true Russian patriotism, his desire to
see his country advanced in the eyes of the world. When we reflect
that at the moment of his writing this letter, he himself was still
regarded in Europe as Russia's foremost author, there is true nobility
in his remark, "How happy I am to have been your contemporary!" Edwin
Booth said that a Christian was one who rejoiced in the superiority of
a rival. If this be true, how few are they that shall enter into the
kingdom of God.

After the death of Turgenev, Tolstoi realised his greatness as he had
never done before. He even consented to deliver a public address in
honour of the dead man. In order to prepare himself for this, he began