In one of his stories, entitled _From the Diary of Nechljudow_, Tolstoi’s hero, Prince Nechljudow, is a most eccentric character, created probably for the purpose of showing the absurdity of indiscriminate charity and other impulsive actions of the erratics of our day. Nordau gives an account of one of the instances in which the Prince’s selfish way of practising charity is forcibly brought out. He evidently does this in order that the Prince’s action should be accepted as an illustration of what Tolstoi means by charity. This is both absurd and unjust. It amounts to an identification of the author with the character he represents—a way of insinuating degeneracy in authors who simply hold it up in their characters as a warning. To thus mix up authors with their characters is a mistake frequently committed by unintelligent readers, but it is surprising to find that with Nordau it is an habitual method. With regard to the character Pozdnyscheff, Nordau does the same thing. He takes for granted that the opinions expressed by this character are those of the author. The passages he extracts from _Short Expositions_, in which Tolstoi’s own opinions are expressed, in no wise justify such a supposition. Nordau’s explanation of the enormous success Tolstoi’s books have achieved is that it is due to general degeneration among the upper classes throughout the world. If he could personally meet the hundreds of thousands of English people who have read Tolstoi’s works, he would be able to form an idea of the immensity of his mistake. He would find that the majority of these people belong to a middle class, consisting of persons who are not overworked and who indulge in none of the vices of the continental aristocracies. Their muscles and their nerves have been strengthened and fortified by a healthy education, and by a love of bodily exercise, sport and even danger, and by a moral life. They live in a country where the authorities have found that to proscribe any licentious book is to promote its sale, and where consequently there is hardly any check upon morbid literature. Yet there is not a country where less of it is circulated than in England. It is true that these readers of Tolstoi have not attained to that height of intellectual development which would permit them to accept Nordau’s “mechanical causality” as a satisfying explanation of the universe; but, on the other hand, it would be difficult to find a people so religiously inclined, and yet so free from superstition and fanaticism.