interpreting
the Scriptures is not approved by the Holy Synod of the
Eastern Orthodox Church, or Russo-Greek Communion, and thus
most of his treatises which come within the strictly religious
category are classed amongst the "Forbidden Books" of modern
Russian literature. In this "Confession" Tolstoy emphatically
strikes the keynote which is the _motif_ of all his didactic
writings. It is an affirmation of the principle that the pure
spirit of religion, apart from external dogma, is the really
precious factor of life. He follows the same strain in his
"What I Believe," and his "Christianity of Christ." The
following synopsis is translated and summarised from the
original Russian.

_I.--Evil Early Years_

Though reared in the faith of the Orthodox Eastern, or Russo-Greek
Church, I had by the time when, at the age of eighteen, I left the
university ceased to believe what I had been taught. My faith could
never have been well grounded in conviction. I not only ceased to pray,
but also to attend the services and to fast. Without denying the
existence of God, yet I cherished no ideas either as to the nature of
God or the teaching of Christ.

I found that my wish to become a good and virtuous man, whenever the
aspiration was in any way expressed, simply exposed me to ridicule;
while I instantly gained praise for any vicious behaviour. Even my
excellent aunt declared that she wished two things for me. One was that
I should form a liaison with some married lady; the other that I should
become an adjutant to the Tsar.

I look back with horror on the years of my young manhood, for I was
guilty of slaying men in battle, of gambling, of riotous squandering of
substance gained by the toil of serfs, of deceit, and of profligacy.
That course of life lasted ten years. Then I took to writing, but the
motive was grovelling, for I aimed at gaining money and flattery.

My aims were gratified, for, coming to St. Petersburg at the age of 26,
I secured the flattering reception I had coveted from the authors most
in repute. The war, about which I had written much from the field of
conflict, had just closed. I found that a theory prevailed amongst the
"Intelligentia" that the function of writers, thinkers, and poets was to
teach; they were to teach not because they knew or understood, but
unconsciously and intuitively. Acting on this philosophy, I, as a
thinker and poet, wr