“Religions are usually based on one of these three principles: on sentiment, reason, or illusion. Stoicism is an example of the religion of reason; Mormonism of illusion; Muhammadanism of sentiment. I have lately received many letters from Muhammadans. I had a letter from Cairo from a representative of the Baptist sect, it is an example of the religion of sentiment. I also had a letter from India, written by a wonderful and very religious man. He writes that true Muhammadanism is a perfectly different thing from what people usually think it to be. Indeed, I know some very religious Moslems. And how movingly simple and lofty is their worship!” To-day at sunset we walked in the garden. We talked of Gorky and his feeble “Man.” Tolstoi was saying that to-day on his walk he met on the road (he likes to go out on to the road, and sit down on a little stone, a milestone, and to observe or to speak to the passers-by) a man who turned out to be a rather well-educated working-man. Tolstoi said: “His outlook on the world agrees perfectly with Gorky’s so-called Nietzscheism and the cult of the personality. It is evidently the spirit of the time. Nietzsche did not say anything new--his is now a very popular world-conception.” Then Tolstoi said: “When I was a Justice of the Peace, there lived in Krapivna a merchant called Gurev, who used to say about young people of education: ‘Well, I look at your students--they are all scholars, they know everything, only they have no invention.’ Turgenev, I remember, liked this expression very much.” Recently a party of gypsies camped on the road near Yasnaya Polyana. Gypsies often roam about Yasnaya Polyana. The party usually stay for two or three days, and in the evenings the Yasnaya Polyana household comes out to hear the gypsy songs and enjoy their dances. Tolstoi, looking at the gypsies, became a changed man, and involuntarily began to dance to their tunes, and to cry out again and again approvingly. “What a wonderful people!” The old gypsies all know Tolstoi and always enter into conversation with him. Tolstoi from his youngest days loved and knew the gypsies and their peculiar life. When we left the house, it was drizzling. Soon the rain got worse, and we returned. Andrey Lvovich said: “Now we have come to the house, the rain will stop.” And, indeed, on our way home the rain stopped, and we went back to the gypsies. Tolstoi said: “Yes, it is always like that: as soon as you turn to go home the rain stops. Something like this happens in Moscow too. When you have to find some one in a large building and ring for the porter, he is never there. But no sooner do you go into the yard to make water than the porter is sure to catch you. So I advise you that if you have to find some one, don’t ring for the porter, but do the second thing first.” When Andrey Lvovich was made an aide-de-camp, Tolstoi said to him: