Abroad with the Jimmies Part 22

"From the point of view of humanity and of the Christian."

Jimmie and I leaned back involuntarily. Judged by these standards, we were none of us either Christians or human, in our party at least.

The Countess Tolstoy, who seemed to be in not the slightest awe of her ill.u.s.trious husband, having become somewhat impatient during this conversation, now turned to me and said:

"It has been so interesting to talk with your sister and Mrs. Jimmie about Paris fashions. We see so little here that is not second hand, and your journey is so fascinating. It seems incredible that you can be travelling simply for pleasure and over such a number of countries!

Where do you go next?"

"We have come from everywhere," I said, laughing, "and we are going anywhere."

The countess clasped her hands and said:

"How I envy you, but doesn't it cost you a great deal of money?"

"I suppose it does," I said, regretfully. "I am going to travel as long as my money holds out, but the rest are not so hampered."

"Alas, if I could only go with you," said the countess, "but we are under such heavy expense now. It used to be easier when we had three or four children nearer of an age who could be educated together. Then it cost less. But now this boy, my youngest, necessitates different tutors for everything, and it costs as much to educate this last one of thirteen as it did any four of the others."

"But then you educate so thoroughly," I said. "Russians always speak five or six, sometimes ten languages, including dialects. With us our wealthy people generally send their children to a good private school and afterward prepare them by tutor for college. Then the richest send them for a trip around the world, or perhaps a year abroad, and that ends it. But the ordinary American has only a public school education.

Americans are not linguists naturally."

"Ah! but here we are obliged to be linguists, because, if we travel at all, we must speak other languages, and, if we entertain at all, we meet people who cannot speak ours, which is very difficult to learn. But languages are easy."

"Oh! _are_ they?" said Jimmie, involuntarily, and everybody laughed.

"Jimmie's languages are unique," said Bee.

"Are you going to Italy?" said the countess.

"Yes, we hope to spend next spring in Italy, beginning with Sicily and working slowly northward."

"How delightful! How charming!" cried the countess. "How I wish, how I _wish_ I could go with you."

"Go with us?" I cried in delight. "Could you manage it? We should be so flattered to have your company."

"Oh, if I could! I shall ask. It will do no harm to ask."

We had all stood up to go and had begun to shake hands when she cried across to her husband:

"Leo, Leo, may I go--"

Then seeing she had not engaged her husband's attention, who was talking to Jimmie about single tax, she went over and pulled his sleeve.

"Leo, may I go with them to Italy in the spring? Please, dear Leo, say yes."

He shook his head gravely, and the little countess smiled at her mother's enthusiasm.

"It would cost too much," said Tolstoy, "besides, I cannot spare you. I need you."

"You need me!" cried the countess in gay derision. Then pleadingly, "Do let me go."

"I cannot," said Tolstoy, turning to Jimmie again.

The countess came back to us with a face full of disappointment.

"He doesn't need me at all," she whispered. "I'd go anyway if I had the money."

As I said before, Russia and America are very much alike.

As we left the house my mind recurred to Max Nordau, whose personality and methods I have so imperfectly presented. The contrast to Tolstoy would intrude itself. In all the conversations I ever had with Max Nordau, he spent most of the time in trying to be a help and a benefit to me. The physician in him was always at the front. His aim was healing, and I only regret that their intimate personality prevents me from relating them word for word, as they would interest and benefit others quite as much as they did me.

The difference between these two great leaders of thought--these two great reformers, Nordau and Tolstoy--is the theme of many learned discussions, and admits many different points of view.

To me they present this aspect: Tolstoy, like Goethe, is an interesting combination of genius and hypocrisy. He preaches unselfishness, while himself the embodiment of self. Max Nordau is his ant.i.thesis. Nordau gives with generous enthusiasm--of his time, his learning, his genius, most of all, of himself. Tolstoy fastens himself upon each newcomer politely, like a courteous leech, sucks him dry, and then writes.

Max Nordau, like Shakespeare, absorbs humanity as a whole. Tolstoy considers the Bible the most dramatic work ever written, and turns this knowledge of the world's demand for religion to theatrical account.

Tolstoy is outwardly a Christian, Nordau outwardly a pagan. Tolstoy openly acknowledges G.o.d, but exemplifies the ideas of man, while Max Nordau's private life embodies the n.o.ble teachings of the Christ whom he denies.

It was not until months afterward, we were back in London in fact, when Jimmie's opinion of Tolstoy seemed to have crystallised. He came to me one morning and said:

"I've read everything, since we left Moscow, that Tolstoy has written.

Now you know I don't pretend to know anything about literary style and all that rot that you're so keen about, but I do know something about human nature, and I do know a grand-stand play when I see one. Now Tolstoy is a genius, there's no gainsaying that, but it's all covered up and smothered in that religious rubbish that he has caught the ear of the world with. If you want to be admired while you are alive, write a religious novel and let the hoi polloi snivel over you and give you gold dollars while you can enjoy 'em and spend 'em. That's where Tolstoy is a fox. So is Mrs. Humphrey Ward. She's a fox, too. They are getting all the fun _now_. But it's all gallery play with both of 'em."

I said nothing, and he smoked in silence for a moment. Then he added:

"But I _say_, what a ripper Tolstoy could write if he'd just cut loose from religion for a minute and write a novel that didn't have any d.a.m.ned _purpose_ in it!"

Verily, Jimmie is no fool.

CHAPTER XIII

SHOPPING EXPERIENCES

In going to Europe timid persons often cover their real design by claiming the intention of taking German baths, of "doing" Switzerland, or of learning languages. But everybody knows that the real reason why most women go abroad is to shop. What cathedral can bring such a look of rapture to a woman's face as New Bond Street or what scenery such ecstasy as the Rue de la Paix?

Therefore, as I believe my lot in shopping to be the common lot of all, let me tell my tale, so that to all who have suffered the same agonies and delights this may come as a personal reminiscence of their own, while to you who have Europe yet to view for that blissful first time, which is the best of all, this is what you will go through.

When I first went to Europe I had all of the average American woman's timidity about a.s.serting herself in the face of a shopgirl or salesman.

Many years of shopping in America had thoroughly broken a spirit which was once proud. I therefore suffered unnecessary annoyance during my first shopping in London, because I was overwhelmingly polite and affable to the man behind the counter. I said "please," and "If you don't mind," and "I would like to see," instead of using the martial command of the ordinary Englishwoman, who marches up to the show-case in flat-heeled boots and says in a tone of an officer ordering "Shoulder arms," "Show me your gauze fans!" I used to listen to them standing next me at a counter, momentarily expecting to see them knocked down by the indignant salesman and carried to a hospital in an ambulance.

My own tones were so conversational when I said, "Will you please show me your black satin ribbon?" that, while I did not say it, my voice implied such questions as "How are your father and mother?" and "I hope the baby is better?" and "Doesn't that draught there on your back annoy you?" and "Don't you get very tired standing up all day?"

It was Bee, as usual, who gave me my first lesson in the insolent bearing which alone obtains the best results from the average British shopman.