 War and Peace, by Leo Tolstoy, translated by Elmer and Louise Maud. Book 5 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Roger Maline. War and Peace, by Leo Tolstoy. Book 5, Chapter 1 After his interview with his wife, Pierre left for Petersburg. At the Torzhock Post Station, either there were no horses or the postmaster would not supply them. Pierre was obliged to wait. Without undressing, he lay down on the leather sofa in front of a round table, put his big feet in their overboots on the table, and began to reflect. Will you have the portmanteaus brought in and a bed got ready and tea, asked his valet? Pierre gave no answer, for he neither heard nor saw anything. He had begun to think of the last station and was still pondering on the same question, one so important that he took no notice of what went on around him. Not only was he indifferent as to whether he got to Petersburg earlier or later, or whether he secured accommodation at this station, but compared to the thoughts that now occupied him, it was a matter of indifference whether he remained there for a few hours or for the rest of his life. The postmaster, his wife, the valet, and a peasant woman selling Torzhock embroidery came into the room offering their services. Without changing his careless attitude, Pierre looked at them over his spectacles, unable to understand what they wanted or how they could go on living without having solved the problems that so absorbed him. He had been engrossed by the same thoughts ever since the day he returned from Sokolnyki after the duel and had spent that first agonizing sleepless night. But now, in the solitude of the journey, they seized him with special force. No matter what he thought about, he always returned to these same questions which he could not solve and yet could not cease to ask himself. It was as if the thread of the chief screw which held his life together were stripped so that the screw could not get in or out, but went on turning uselessly in the same place. The postmaster came in and began obsequiously to beg his excellency to wait only two hours when, come what might, he would let his excellency have the courier horses. It was plain that he was lying and only wanted to get more money from the traveler. Is this good or bad? Pierre asked himself. It is good for me, bad for another traveler, and for himself it's unavoidable because he needs money for food. The man said an officer had once given him a thrashing for letting a private traveler have the courier horses. But the officer thrashed him because he had to get on as quickly as possible. And I, continued Pierre, shot Dolikov because I considered myself injured, and Louis XVI was executed because they considered him a criminal. And a year later they executed those who executed him also for the same reason. What is bad? What is good? What should one love and what hate? What does one live for? And what am I? What is life and what is death? What power governs all? There was no answer to any of these questions except one. And that, not a logical answer and not at all a reply to them. The answer was, you'll die and all will end. You'll die and know all or cease asking. But dying was also dreadful. The Torsoc peddler woman in a whining voice went on offering her wares, especially a pair of goat skin slippers. I have hundreds of rubles I don't know what to do with, and she stands in her tattered cloak looking timidly at me, he thought. And what does she want the money for? As if that money could add a hair's breadth to happiness or peace of mind. Can anything in the world make her or me less a prey to evil and death? Death which ends all and must come today or tomorrow? At any rate in an instant as compared with eternity? And again he twisted the screw with the strip thread, and again it turned uselessly in the same place. His servant handed him a half-cut novel in the form of Letters by Madame de Souza. He began reading about the sufferings and virtuous struggles of a certain Emily de Mansfeld. And why did she resist her seducer when she loved him, he thought? God could not have put into her heart an impulse that was against his will. My wife, as she once was, did not struggle, and perhaps she was right. Nothing has been found out, nothing discovered, Pierre again said to himself. All we can know is that we know nothing, and that's the height of human wisdom. Everything within and around him seemed confused, senseless, and repellent. Yet in this very repugnance to all his circumstances, Pierre found a kind of tantalizing satisfaction. Make bold to ask your excellency to move a little for this gentleman, said the postmaster, entering the room followed by another traveler, also detained for lack of horses. The newcomer was a short, large-boned, yellow-faced, wrinkled old man, with gray, bushy eyebrows overhanging bright eyes of an indefinite grayish color. Pierre took his feet off the table, stood up, and lay down on a bed that had been got ready for him, glancing now and then at the newcomer, who, with a gloomy and tired face, was wearily taking off his wraps with the aid of his servant, and not looking at Pierre. With a pair of felt boots on his thin, bony legs, and keeping on a worn, nankine-covered sheepskin coat, the traveler sat down on the sofa, leaned back his big head with its broad temples and close-cropped hair, and looked at Bezikov. The stern, shrewd, and penetrating expression of that look struck Pierre. He felt a wish to speak to the stranger, but by the time he had made up his mind to ask him a question about the roads, the traveler had closed his eyes. His shriveled, old hands were folded, and on the finger of one of them, Pierre noticed a large, cast-iron ring with a seal representing a death's head. The stranger sat without stirring, either resting or, as it seemed to Pierre, sunk in profound and calm meditation. His servant was also a yellow, wrinkled old man without beard or mustache, evidently not because he was shaven, but because they had never grown. This active, old servant was unpacking the traveler's canteen and preparing tea. He brought in a boiling samovar. When everything was ready, the stranger opened his eyes, moved to the table, filled a tumbler with tea for himself and one for the beardless old man to whom he passed it. Pierre began to feel a sense of uneasiness and the need, even the inevitability of entering into conversation with this stranger. The servant brought back his tumbler, turned upside down to indicate he did not want more tea, with an unfinished bit of nibbled sugar and asked if anything more would be wanted. No, give me the book, said the stranger. The servant handed him a book which Pierre took to be a devotional work, and the traveler became absorbed in it. Pierre looked at him. All at once the stranger closed the book, putting in a marker, and again, leaning with his arms in the back of the sofa, sat in his former position with his eyes shut. Pierre looked at him and had not time to turn away when the old man, opening his eyes, fixed his steady and severe gaze straight on Pierre's face. Pierre felt confused and wished to avoid that look, but the bright old eyes attracted him irresistibly. CHAPTER I I have the pleasure of addressing Count Bezekoff, if I am not mistaken, said the stranger, in a deliberate and loud voice. Pierre looked silently and inquiringly at him over his spectacles. I have heard of you, my dear sir, continued the stranger, and of your misfortune. He seemed to emphasize the last word as if to say, yes, misfortune. Call it what you please. I know that what happened to you in Moscow was a misfortune. I regret it very much, my dear sir. Pierre flushed and, hardly putting his legs down from the bed, bent forward toward the old man with a forced and timid smile. I have not referred to this out of curiosity, my dear sir, but for greater reasons. He paused, his gaze still on Pierre, and moved aside on the sofa by way of inviting the other to take a seat beside him. Pierre felt reluctant to enter into conversation with this old man, but, submitting to him involuntarily, came up and sat down beside him. You are unhappy, my dear sir, the stranger continued. You are young, and I am old. I should like to help you as far as lies in my power. Oh, yes, said Pierre, with a forced smile, I am very grateful to you. Where are you traveling from? The stranger's face was not genial. It was even cold and severe. But in spite of this, both the face and words of his new acquaintance were irresistibly attractive to Pierre. But if for reason you don't feel inclined to talk to me, said the old man, say so, my dear sir, and he suddenly smiled in an unexpected and tenderly paternal way. Oh, no, not at all. On the contrary, I am very glad to make your acquaintance, said Pierre. And again, glancing at the stranger's hands, he looked more closely at the ring with its skull, a masonic sign. Allow me to ask, he said, are you a mason? Yes, I belong to the brotherhood of the Freemasons, said the stranger, looking deeper and deeper into Pierre's eyes. And in their name and my own, I hold out a brotherly hand to you. I am afraid, said Pierre, smiling and wavering between the confidence, the personality of the Freemason inspired in him, and his own habit of ridiculing the Masonic beliefs. I am afraid, I am very far from understanding how I might have put it. I am afraid my way of looking at the world is so opposed to yours that we shall not understand one another. I know your outlook, said the Mason, and the view of life you mention and which you think is the result of your own mental efforts is the one held by the majority of people and is the invariable fruit of pride, indolence, and ignorance. Forgive me, my dear sir, but if I had not known it, I should not have addressed you. Your view of life is a regrettable delusion. Just as I may suppose you to be deluded, said Pierre with a faint smile. I should never dare to say that I know the truth, said the Mason, whose words struck Pierre more and more by the precision and firmness. No one can attain to truth by himself, only by laying stone on stone with the cooperation of all by the millions of generations from our forefather Adam to our own times is that temple reared, which is to be a worthy dwelling place of the great God, he added and closed his eyes. I ought to tell you that I do not believe, do not believe in God, said Pierre regretfully and with an effort, feeling it essential to speak the whole truth. The Mason looked intently at Pierre and smiled as a rich man with millions in hand, might smile at a poor fellow who told him that he, poor man, had not the five rubles that would make him happy. Yes, you do not know him, my dear sir, said the Mason. You cannot know him, you do not know him, and that is why you are unhappy. Yes, yes, I am unhappy, assented Pierre, but what am I to do? You know him not, my dear sir, and so you are very unhappy. You do not know him, but he is here, he is in me, he is in my words. He is in thee and even in those blasphemous words that thou has just uttered, pronounced the Mason in a stern and tremulous voice. He paused and sighed, evidently trying to calm himself. If he were not, he said quietly, you and I would not be speaking of him, my dear sir. Of what? Of whom are we speaking? Whom hest thou denied? he suddenly asked with exulting austerity and authority in his voice. Who invented him, if he did not exist? Whence came thy conception of the existence of such an incomprehensible being? Didst thou, and why did the whole world conceive the idea of the existence of such an incomprehensible being? A being all-powerful, eternal, and infinite in all his attributes. He stopped and remained silent for a long time. Pierre could not and did not wish to break this silence. He exists, but to understand him is hard, the Mason began again, looking not at Pierre but straight before him, and turning the leaves of his book with his old hands, which from excitement he could not keep still. If it were a man whose existence, thou didst doubt, I could bring him to thee, could take him by the hand and show him to thee. How can I, an insignificant mortal, show his omnipotence, his infinity, and all his mercy to one who is blind, or who shuts his eyes that he may not see or understand him, and may not see or understand his own vileness and sinfulness? He paused again. Who art thou? thou dreamest that thou art wise, because thou couldst utter those blasphemous words? He went on with a somber and scornful smile. And thou art more foolish and unreasonable than a little child who, playing with the parts of a skillfully made watch, dares to say that, as he does not understand its use, he does not believe in the master who made it. To know him is hard. For ages, from our forefather Adam to our own day, we labor to attain that knowledge and are still infinitely far from our aim. But in our lack of understanding we see only our weakness and his greatness. Pierre listened with swelling heart, gazing into the mason's face with shining eyes, not interrupting or questioning him, but believing with his whole soul what the stranger said. Whether he accepted the wise reasoning contained in the mason's words, or believed as a child believes in the speaker's tone of conviction and earnestness, or the tremor of the speaker's voice, which sometimes almost broke, or those brilliant aged eyes grown old in this conviction, or the calm firmness and certainty of his vocation, which radiated from his whole being, and which struck Pierre especially by contrast with his own dejection and hopelessness, at any rate, Pierre along with his whole soul to believe, and he did believe, and felt a joyful sense of comfort, regeneration, and return to life. He is not to be apprehended by reason, but by life, said the mason. I do not understand, said Pierre, feeling with dismay doubts reawakening. He was afraid of any want of clearness, any weakness in the mason's arguments. He dreaded not to be able to believe in him. I don't understand, he said, how it is that the mind of man cannot attain the knowledge of which you speak. The mason smiled with his gentle fatherly smile. The highest wisdom and truth are like the purest liquid we may wish to imbibe, he said. Can I receive that pure liquid into an impure vessel and judge of its purity? Only by the inner purification of myself can I retain in some degree of purity the liquid I receive. Yes, yes, that is so, said Pierre joyfully. The highest wisdom is not founded on reason alone, not on those worldly sciences of physics, history, chemistry, and the like into which intellectual knowledge is divided. The highest wisdom is one. The highest wisdom has but one science, the science of the whole, the science explaining the whole creation and man's place in it. To receive that science it is necessary to purify and renew one's inner self, and so before one can know it is necessary to believe and to perfect oneself. And to attain this end we have the light called conscience that God has implanted in our souls. Yes, yes, assented Pierre. Look then at thy inner self with the eyes of the Spirit and ask thyself whether thou art content with thyself. What has thou attained relying on reason only? What art thou? You are young, you are rich, you are clever, you are well educated. And what have you done with all these good gifts? Are you content with yourself and with your life? No, I hate my life, Pierre muttered, wincing. Thou hadest it, then change it, purify thyself, and as thou art purified, thou wilt gain wisdom. Look at your life, my dear sir. How have you spent it? In riotous orgies and debauchery, receiving everything from society and giving nothing in return. You have become the possessor of wealth. How have you used it? What have you done for your neighbor? Have you ever thought of your tens of thousands of slaves? Have you helped them physically and morally? No, you are profited by their toil to lead a profligate life. That is what you have done. Have you chosen a post in which you might be of service to your neighbor? No, you have spent your life in idleness. Then you married, my dear sir, took on your self-responsibility for the guidance of a young woman. And what have you done? You have not helped her to find the way of truth, my dear sir, but have thrust her into an abyss of deceit and misery. A man offended you and you shot him, and you say you do not know God and hate your life. There is nothing strange in that, my dear sir. After these words, the mason, as if tired by his long discourse, again leaned his arms in the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. Pierre looked at that aged, stern, motionless, almost lifeless face and moved his lips without uttering a sound. He wished to say, yes, a vile, idle, vicious life, but dared not break the silence. The mason cleared his throat huskily, as old men do, and called his servant. How about the horses, he asked, without looking at Pierre? The exchange horses have just come, answered the servant. Will you not rest here? No, tell them to harness. Can he really be going away, leaving me alone with having told me all and without promising to help me? Thought Pierre, rising with downcast head. And he began to pace the room, glancing occasionally at the mason. Yes, I never thought of it, but I have led a contemptible and profligate life, though I did not like it and did not want to, thought Pierre. But this man knows the truth, and if he wished to, could disclose it to me. Pierre wished to say this to the mason, but did not dare to. The traveler, having packed his things with his practiced hands, began fastening his coat. When he had finished, he turned to Bezekoff and said in a tone of indifferent politeness, Where are you going to now, my dear sir? I am going to Petersburg, answered Pierre, in a childlike hesitating voice. I thank you, I agree with all you have said, but do not suppose me to be so bad. With my whole soul I wish to be what you would have me be, but I have never had help from anyone. But it is I, above all, who am to blame for everything. Help me, teach me, and perhaps, if I may, Pierre could not go on. He gulped and turned away. The mason remained silent for a long time, evidently considering. Help comes from God alone, he said, but such measure of help as our order can bestow it will render you, my dear sir. You are going to Petersburg. Hand this to Count Willarsky. He took out his notebook and wrote a few words in a large sheet of paper folded in four. Allow me to give you a piece of advice. When you reach the capital, first of all, devote some time to solitude and self-examination, and do not resume your former way of life. And now I wish you a good journey, my dear sir," he added, seeing that his servant had entered, and success. The traveler was Joseph Alexevich Bazdiev, as Pierre saw from the Postmaster's book. Bazdiev had been one of the best-known Freemasons and Martinists, even in Novikov's time. For a long while after he had gone, Pierre did not go to bed or order horses, but paced up and down the room, pondering over his vicious past, and with a rapturous sense of beginning anew, pictured to himself the blissful, irreproachable, virtuous future that seemed to him so easy. It seemed to him that he had been vicious only because he had somehow forgotten how good it is to be virtuous. Not a trace of his former doubts remained in his soul. He firmly believed in the possibility of the brotherhood of men united in the aim of supporting one another in the path of virtue, and that is how Freemason represented itself to him. On reaching Petersburg, Pierre did not let anyone know of his arrival. He went nowhere and spent whole days in reading Thomas Akampus, whose book had been sent him by someone unknown. One thing he continually realized as he read that book. The joy hitherto unknown to him of believing in the possibility of attaining perfection and in the possibility of active brotherly love among men, which Joseph Aleksevich had revealed to him. A week after his arrival, the young Polish Count Wielarski, whom Pierre had known slightly in Petersburg society, came into his room one evening in the official and ceremonious manner in which Dolochow Second had called on him, and having closed the door behind him and satisfied himself that there was nobody else in the room addressed Pierre. I have come to you with a message and an offer, Count, he said, without sitting down. A person of very high standing in our brotherhood has made application for you to be received into our order before the usual term, and has proposed to me to be your sponsor. I consider it a sacred duty to fulfill that person's wishes. Do you wish to enter the brotherhood of Freemasons under my sponsorship? The cold, austere tone of this man, whom he had almost always before met at the balls, amiably smiling in the society of the most brilliant women, surprised Pierre. Yes, I do wish it, said he. Wielarski bowed his head. One more question, Count, he said, which I beg you to answer in all sincerity, not as a future Mason, but as an honest man. Have you renounced your former convictions? Do you believe in God? Pierre considered. Yes, yes, I believe in God, he said. In that case began Wielarski, but Pierre interrupted him. Yes, I do believe in God, he repeated. In that case we can go, said Wielarski. My carriage is at your service. Wielarski was silent throughout the drive. To Pierre's inquiries as to what he must do and how he should answer, Wielarski only replied that brothers more worthy than he would test him and that Pierre had only to tell the truth. Having entered the courtyard of a large house where the lodge had its headquarters and having ascended a dark staircase, they entered a small, well-lit anti-room where they took off their cloaks without the aid of a servant. From there they passed into another room. A man in strange attire appeared at the door. Wielarski, stepping toward him, said something to him in French in an undertone and went up to a small wardrobe in which Pierre noticed garments such as he had never seen before. Having taken a kerchief from the cupboard, Wielarski bound Pierre's eyes with it and tied it in a knot behind, catching some hairs painfully in the knot. Then he drew his face down, kissed him, and taking him by the hand, led him forward. The hairs tied in the knot hurt Pierre and there were lines of pain on his face and a shame-faced smile. His huge figure, with arms hanging down and with a puckered, though smiling face, moved after Wielarski with uncertain, timid steps. Having led him about ten paces, Wielarski stopped. Whatever happens to you, he said, you must bear it all manfully if you have firmly resolved to join our brotherhood. Pierre nodded affirmatively. When you hear a knock at the door, you will uncover your eyes, added Wielarski. I wish you courage and success and, pressing Pierre's hand, he went out. Left alone, Pierre went on smiling in the same way. Once or twice he shrugged his and raised his hand to the kerchief as if wishing to take it off, but let it drop again. The five minutes spent with his eyes bandaged seemed to him an hour. His arms felt numb, his legs almost gave way, it seemed to him that he was tired out. He experienced a variety of most complex sensations. He felt afraid of what would happen to him and still more afraid of showing his fear. He felt curious to know what was going to happen and what would be revealed to him. But most of all he felt joyful that the moment had come when he would at last start on that path of regeneration and on the actively virtuous life of which he had been dreaming since he met Joseph Aleksevich. Loud knocks were heard at the door. Pierre took the bandage off his eyes and glanced around him. The room was in black darkness, only a small lamp was burning inside something white. Pierre went nearer and saw that the lamp stood on a black table on which lay an open book. The book was the gospel and the white thing with the lamp inside was a human skull with its cavities and teeth. After reading the first words of the gospel, in the beginning was the word and the word was of God, Pierre went round the table and saw a large open box filled with something. It was a coffin with bones inside. He was not at all surprised by what he saw. Hoping to enter on an entirely new life quite unlike the old one, he expected everything to be unusual, even more unusual than what he was seeing. A skull, a coffin, the gospel. It seemed to him that he had expected all this and even more. Trying to stimulate his emotions, he looked around. God, death, love, the brotherhood of man. He kept saying to himself, associating these words with vague yet joyful ideas. The door opened and someone came in. By the dim light to which Pierre had already become accustomed, he saw a rather short man. Having evidently come from the light into the darkness, the man paused, then moved with cautious steps toward the table and placed on it his small leather-gloved hands. This short man had on a white leather apron which covered his chest and part of his legs. He had on a kind of necklace above which rose a high white ruffle, outlining his rather long face which was lit up from below. For what have you come hither? asked the newcomer, turning in Pierre's direction at a slight rustle made by the latter. Why have you, who do not believe in the truth of the light and who have not seen the light, come here? What do you seek from us? Wisdom, virtue, enlightenment? At the moment the door opened and the stranger came in, Pierre felt a sense of awe and veneration, such as he had experienced in his boyhood at confession. He felt himself in the presence of one socially a complete stranger, yet nearer to him through the brotherhood of man. With bated breath and beating heart he moved toward the retour, by which named the brother who prepared a seeker for entrance into the brotherhood was known. Drawing near, he recognized in the retour a man he knew. Smolenevov, and it mortified him to think that the newcomer was an acquaintance. He wished him simply a brother and a virtuous instructor. For a long time he could not utter a word so that the retour had to repeat his question. Yes, I desire regeneration, Pierre uttered with difficulty. Very well said Smolenevov and went on at once. Have you any idea of the means by which our holy order will help you reach your aim? Said he quietly and quickly. I hope for guidance, help in regeneration, said Pierre, with a trembling voice and some difficulty and utterance due to his excitement and to being unaccustomed to speak of abstract matters in Russian. What is your conception of Freemasonry? I imagine that Freemasonry is the fraternity and equality of men who have virtuous aims, said Pierre, feeling ashamed of the inadequacy of his words for the solemnity of the moment as he spoke. I imagine, good, said the retour quickly, apparently satisfied with this answer. Have you sought for means of attaining your aim in religion? No, I considered it erroneous and did not follow it, said Pierre, so softly that the retour did not hear him and asked him what he was saying. I have been an atheist, answered Pierre. You are seeking for truth in order to follow its laws in your life, therefore you seek wisdom and virtue. Is that not so? said the retour after a moment's pause. Yes, yes, assented Pierre. The retour cleared his throat, crossed his gloved hands on his breast and began to speak. Now I must disclose to you the chief aim of our order, he said, and if this aim coincides with yours, you may enter our brotherhood with profit. The first and chief object of our order, the foundation on which it rests and which no human power can destroy, is the preservation and handing on to posterity of a certain important mystery, which has come down to us from the remotest ages, even from the first man. A mystery on which perhaps the fate of mankind depends. But since this mystery is of such a nature that nobody can know or use it unless he be prepared by long and diligent self-purification, not everyone can hope to attain it quickly. Hence we have a secondary aim, that of preparing our members as much as possible to reform their hearts, to purify and enlighten their minds by means handed on to us by tradition from those who have striven to attain this mystery and thereby to render them capable of receiving it. By purifying and regenerating our members, we try thirdly to improve the whole human race, offering it in our members an example of piety and virtue, and thereby try with all our might to combat the evil which sways the world. Think this over, and I will come to you again. To combat the evil which sways the world, Pierre repeated, and a mental image of his future activity in this direction rose in his mind. He imagined men such as he had himself been a fortnight ago, and he addressed an edifying exhortation to them. He imagined to himself vicious and unfortunate people whom he would assist by word and deed, imagined oppressors whose victims he would rescue. Of the three objects mentioned by the retor, this last, that of improving mankind, especially appealed to Pierre. The important mystery mentioned by the retor, though it aroused his curiosity, did not seem to him essential, and the second aim, that of purifying and regenerating himself, did not much interest him because at that moment he felt with delight that he was already perfectly cured of his former fault and was ready for all that was good. Half an hour later the retor returned to inform the seeker of the seven virtues, corresponding to the seven steps of Solomon s temple which every Freemason should cultivate in himself. These virtues were, one, discretion, the keeping of the secrets of the order, two, obedience to those of higher ranks in the order, three, morality, four, love of mankind, five, courage, six, generosity, seven, the love of death. In the seventh place, try by the frequent thought of death, the retor said, to bring yourself to regard it not as a dreaded foe, but as a friend that frees the soul grown weary in the labors of virtue from this distressful life and leads it to its place of recompense and peace. Yes, that must be so, thought Pierre, when after these words the retor went away, leaving him to solitary meditation. It must be so, but I am still so weak that I love my life, the meaning of which is only now gradually opening before me. But five of the other virtues which Pierre recalled, counting them on his fingers, he felt already in his soul. Courage, generosity, morality, love of mankind, and especially obedience, which did not even seem to him a virtue, but a joy. He now felt so glad to be free from his own lawlessness and to submit his will to those who knew the indubitable truth. He forgot what the seventh virtue was and could not recall it. The third time the retor came back more quickly and asked Pierre whether he was still firm in his intention and determined to submit to all that would be required of him. I am ready for everything, said Pierre. I must also inform you, said the retor, that our order delivers its teaching not in words only, but also by other means, which may perhaps have a stronger effect on a sincere seeker after wisdom and virtue than mere words. This chamber, with what you see therein, should already have suggested to your heart, if it is sincere, more than words could do. You will perhaps also see in your further initiation a like method of enlightenment. Our order imitates the ancient societies that explained their teaching by hieroglyphics. A hieroglyph, said the retor, is an emblem of something not cognizable by the senses, but which possesses qualities resembling those of the symbol. Pierre knew very well what a hieroglyph was, but dared not speak. He listened to the retor in silence, feeling from all he said that his ordeal was about to begin. If you are resolved, I must begin your initiation, said the retor, coming closer to Pierre. In token of generosity, I ask you to give me all your valuables. But I have nothing here, replied Pierre, supposing that he was asked to give up all he possessed. What do you have with you? Watch, money, rings? Pierre quickly took out his purse and watch, but could not manage for some time to get the wedding ring off his fat finger. When that had been done, the retor said, In token of obedience, I ask you to undress. Pierre took off his coat, waistcoat, and left boot according to the retor's instruction. The mason drew the shirt back from Pierre's left breast and, stooping down, pulled up the left leg of his trousers to above the knee. Pierre hardly began taking off his right boot also and was going to tuck up the other trouser leg to save this stranger the trouble. But the mason told him that was not necessary and gave him a slipper for his left foot. With a childlike smile of embarrassment, doubt, and self-derusion which appeared on his face against his will, Pierre stood with his arms hanging down and legs apart before his brother retore and handed his further commands. And now, in token of candor, I ask you to reveal to me your chief passion, said the latter. My passion, I have had so many, replied Pierre. That passion which more than all others caused you to waver on the path of virtue, said the mason. Pierre paused, seeking a reply. Wine, gluttony, idleness, laziness, irritability, anger, women. He went over his vices in his mind, not knowing to which of them to give the preeminence. Women, he said in a low, scarcely audible voice. The mason did not move and for a long time said nothing after this answer. At last he moved up to Pierre and taking the kerchief that lay on the table again bound his eyes. For the last time, I say to you, turn all your attention upon yourself. Put a bridle on your senses and seek blessedness, not in passion, but in your own heart. The source of blessedness is not without us, but within. Pierre had already long been feeling in himself that refreshing source of blessedness which now flooded his heart with glad emotion. As to the firmness of his resolution, Pierre replied, Yes, yes, I agree. And with a beaming, childlike smile, his fat chest uncovered. Stepping unevenly and timidly in one slippered and one booted foot, he advanced while Walarski held a sore to his bare chest. He was conducted from that room along passages that turned backwards and forwards and was, at last, brought to the doors of the lodge. Walarski coughed. He was answered by the masonic knock with mallets. The doors opened before them. A bass voice, Pierre was still blindfolded, questioned him as to who he was, when and where he was born, and so on. Then he was again led somewhere still blindfolded, and as they went along he was told allegories of the toils of his pilgrimage, of holy friendship, of the eternal architect of the universe, and of the courage with which he should endure toils and dangers. During these wanderings, Pierre noticed that he was spoken of now as a seeker, now as the sufferer, and now as the postulant to the accompaniment of various knockings with mallets and swords. As he was being led up to some object, he noticed a hesitation and uncertainty among his conductors. He heard those around him disputing in whispers and one of them insisting that he should be led along a certain carpet. After that they took his right hand, placed it on something, and told him to hold a pair of compasses to his left breast with the other hand, and to repeat after someone who read aloud an oath of fidelity to the laws of the order. The candles were then extinguished and some spirit lighted, as Pierre knew by the smell, and he was told that he would now see the lesser light. The bandage was taken off his eyes, and by the faint light of the burning spirit, Pierre, as in a dream, saw several men standing before him, wearing aprons like the Redders, and holding swords in their hands pointed at his breast. Among them stood a man whose white shirt was stained with blood. On seeing this Pierre moved forward with his breast towards the swords, meaning them to pierce it. But the swords were drawn back from him, and he was at once blindfolded again. Now thou hast seen the lesser light uttered a voice. Then the candles were relit, and he was told that he would see the full light. The bandage was again removed, and more than ten voices said together, seek transit Gloria Mundi. Pierre gradually began to recover himself and looked about at the room and at the people in it. Round a long table, covered with black, sat some twelve men in garments like those he had already seen. Some of them Pierre had met in Petersburg's society. In the president's chair said a young man he did not know, with a peculiar cross hanging from his neck. On his right sat the Italian abbey whom Pierre had met at Anna Pavlovna's two years before. There were also present a very distinguished dignitary, and a Swiss who had formally been tutor at the Kyrgyz. All maintained a solemn silence, listening to the words of the president, who held a mallet in his hand. Led into the wall was a star-shaped light. At one side of the table was a small carpet, with various figures worked upon it. At the other was something resembling an altar, on which lay a testament and a skull. Round it stood seven large candlesticks, like those used in churches. Two of the brothers led Pierre up to the altar, placed his feet at right angles, and bade him lie down, saying that he must prostrate himself at the gates of the temple. He must first receive the trowl, whispered one of the brothers. Oh, hush, please! said another. Pierre, perplexed, looked round with his short-sighted eyes without obeying, and suddenly doubts arose in his mind. Where am I? What am I doing? Aren't they laughing at me? Shouldn't I be ashamed to remember this? But these doubts only lasted a moment. Pierre glanced at the serious faces of those around, remembered all he had already gone through, and realized he could not stop halfway. He was aghast at his hesitation, and, trying to rouse his former devotional feeling, prostrated himself before the gates of the temple. And, really, the feeling of devotion returned to him even more strongly than before. When he had lain there some time he was told to get up, and a white leather apron, such as the other's wore, was put on him. He was given a trowl and three pairs of gloves, and then the grandmaster addressed him. He told him that he should try to do nothing to stain the whiteness of that apron, which symbolized strength and purity. Then, of the unexplained trowl, he told him to toil with it to cleanse his own heart from a vice, and indulgently to smooth with it the heart of his neighbor. As to the first pair of gloves, a man's, he said that Pierre could not know their meaning, but must keep them. The second pair of man's gloves he was to wear at the meetings, and finally of the third, a pair of woman's gloves, he said, Dear brother, these woman's gloves are intended for you too. Give them to a woman of special honor most of all. This gift will be a pledge of your purity of heart to her whom you select to be your worthy helpmate in masonry. And after a pause, he added, But beware, dear brother, that these gloves do not deck hands that are unclean. While the grandmaster said these last words it seemed to Pierre that he grew embarrassed. Pierre himself grew still more confused, blushed like a child till tears came to his eyes, began looking around him uneasily, and an awkward pause followed. This silence was broken by one of the brethren who led Pierre up to the rug and began reading to him from a manuscript, an explanation of all the figures on it, the sun, the moon, a hammer, a plum line, a trowel, a rough stone and a squared stone, a pillar, three windows, and so on. Then a place was assigned to Pierre. He was shown the signs of the lodge, told the password, and at last was permitted to sit down. The grandmaster began reading the statutes. They were very long, and Pierre, from joy, agitation, and embarrassment, was not in the state to understand what was being read. He managed to follow only the last words of the statutes, and these remained in his mind. In our temples we recognized no other distinctions, read the grandmaster, but those between virtue and vice. Beware of making any distinctions which may infringe equality. Fly to a brother's aid whoever he may be. Exhort him who goeth astray. Raise him that falleth. Never bear malice or enmity towards thy brother. Be kindly and courteous. Kindle in all hearts the flame of virtue. Share thy happiness with thy neighbor, and the envy never dim the purity of that bliss. Forgive thy enemy. Do not avenge thyself except by doing him good. Thus fulfilling the highest law thou shalt regain traces of the ancient dignity which thou hast lost. He finished, and getting up, embraced and kissed Pierre, who, with tears of joy in his eyes, looked round him, not knowing how to answer him on all sides. He acknowledged no acquaintances but saw in all these men only brothers, and burned with impatience to set to work with them. The grandmaster wrapped with his mallet. All the masons sat down in their places, and one of them read an exhortation on the necessity of humility. The grandmaster proposed that the last duty should be performed, and the distinguished dignitary who bore the title of Alms went round to all the brothers. Pierre would have liked to subscribe all he had, but fearing it might look like pride, subscribe the same amount as the others. The meeting was at an end. End on reaching home, Pierre felt as if he had returned from a long journey on which he had spent dozens of years, had become completely changed, and had quite left behind his former habits and way of life. End of Chapter 4 War and Peace Book 5, Chapter 5 Read for LibriVox.org by Robbie Rogers The day after he had been received into the lodge, Pierre was sitting at home reading a book, and trying to fathom the significance of the square, one side of which symbolized God, another moral things, a third physical things, and the fourth a combination of these. Now and then his attention wandered from the book and the square, and he formed in imagination a new plan of life. On the previous evening at the lodge he had heard a rumor of his duel had reached the emperor, and that it would be wiser for him to leave Petersburg. Pierre proposed going to his estates in the south, and there attending to the welfare of his serfs. He was joyfully planning this new life that he would have been up to in Moscow. Why have you quarreled with Helene Monsherre? You are under a delusion, said Prince Vassili as he entered. I know all about it, and I can tell you positively that Helene is as innocent before you as Christ was before the Jews. Pierre was about to reply, but Prince Vassili interrupted him. And why didn't you simply come straight to me as a friend? I know all about it, and I understand it all, he said. He is a friend who values his honor, perhaps too hastily, but we won't go into that. But consider the position in which you are placing her and me in the eyes of society, and even of the court he added, lowering his eyes, she is living in Moscow and you are here. Remember, dear boy, and he drew Pierre's arm downward, it is simply a misunderstanding. I expect you feel it so yourself. If you have not explained, or else, my dear boy, let me tell you, it's quite likely you'll have to suffer for it. Prince Vassili gave Pierre a significant look. I know from reliable sources that the Dowager Empress is taking a keen interest in the whole affair. You know she is very gracious to Helene. Pierre tried several times to speak, but on one hand Prince Vassili did not let him, and on the other Pierre himself feared to begin to speak this agreement in which he had firmly resolved to answer his father-in-law. Moreover, the words of the Masonic statutes, be kindly and courteous, recurred to him. He blinked, went red, got up, sat down again, struggling with himself to do what was for him the most difficult thing in life, to say an unpleasant thing to a man's face, to say what the other, whoever he might be, did not expect. Prince Vassili's tone of careless self-assurance that he felt he would be unable to withstand it now, but he also felt that on what he said now his future depended, whether he would follow the same old road, or that new path so attractively shown to him by the Masons, on which he firmly believed he would be reborn to a new life. Now, my dear boy, said Prince Vassili playfully, say yes, I'll write to her myself and we will kill the fatted calf. But before Prince Vassili had finished his playful speech, Pierre, without looking at him and with a kind of fury that made him like his father, muttered in a whisper, Prince, I did not ask you here. Go, please go. And he jumped up and opened the door for him. Go, he repeated, amazed at himself and glad to see a look of confusion and fear that showed itself on Prince Vassili's face. What's the matter with you? Are you ill? The green voice repeated and Prince Vassili had to go without receiving any explanation. A week later, Pierre, having taken leave of his new friends, the Masons, and leaving large sums of money with them for alms, went away to his estates. His new brethren gave him letters to the Kiev and Odessa Masons and promised to write to him and guide him in his new activity. End of chapter 5 War and Peace Chapter 6 Read for LibriVox.org by Robbie Rogers The duel between Pierre and Dullikov was hushed up, and in spite of the Emperor's severity regarding duels at that time, neither the principal's nor their second suffered for it. But the story of the duel, confirmed by Pierre's rupture with his wife, was the talk of society. Pierre, who had been regarded with patronizing condescension as his son, and petted and extolled when he was the best match in Russia, had sunk greatly in the steam of society after his marriage, when the marriageable daughters and their mothers had nothing to hope from him, especially as he did not know how and did not wish to court society's favor. Now he alone was blamed for what had happened. He was said to be insanely jealous and subject like his father to fits of bloodthirsty rage. After her first departure, Helene returned to Petersburg, she was received by all her acquaintances not only with cordiality, but even with a shade of deference due to her misfortune. When conversation turned on her husband, Helene assumed a dignified expression which, with characteristic tact, she had acquired, though she did not understand its significance. This expression suggested that she had resolved to endure her troubles uncomplainingly and distrust laid upon her by God. Prince Vassili expressed his opinion more openly. He shrugged his shoulders when Pierre was mentioned and, pointing to his forehead, remarked, a bit touched. I always said so. I said it from the first, declared Anna Pavlovna, referring to Pierre. I said at the time and before anyone else she insisted on her priority that that senseless young man was spoiled by the depraved ideas of these days. I said so even at the time when everybody was in raptures about him, when he had just returned from abroad and when, if you remember, he posed as a sort of maraud at one of my soirees. And how has it ended? I was against this marriage even then and foretold all that has happened. Anna Pavlovna continued to give on free evenings the same kind of soirees as before, such as she alone had the gift of arranging, at which was to be found the cream of really good society, the bloom of the intellectual essence of Petersburg, as she herself put it. Besides this refined selection of society, Anna Pavlovna's receptions were also distinguished by the fact that she always presented some new and interesting persons to the visitors, and that nowhere else was the state of the political thermometer of legitimate Petersburg court society so dearly and distinctly indicated. Toward the end of 1806, when all the sad details of Napoleon's destruction of the Prussian army at Jenna and Auerstadt, and the surrender of most of the Prussian fortresses had been received, when our troops had already entered Prussia and our Second War with Napoleon was beginning, Anna Pavlovna gave one of her soirees. The cream of really good society consisted of the fascinating Helene, forsaken by her husband, Mortemart, the delightful Prince Hippolite, who had just returned from Vienna, two diplomatists, the old aunt, a young man referred to in that drawing room as a man of great merit, an homme de becoux de mérite, a newly appointed maid of honor, and her mother, and several other less noteworthy persons. The novelty Anna Pavlovna was setting before her guest that evening was Boris Trubetskoy, who had just arrived as a special messenger from the Prussian army, and was in aid to camp to a very important personage. The temperature shown by the political thermometer to the company that evening was this. Whatever the European sovereigns and commanders may do to countenance Bonaparte, and to cause me and us in general annoyance and mortification, our opinion of Bonaparte cannot alter. We shall not cease to express our sincere views on that subject, and can only say to the king of Prussia and others so much the worse for you. To la voulue, Georges Dandin, that's all we have to say about it. When Boris, who is to be served up to the guests, entered the drawing-room, almost all the company had assembled, and the conversation, guided by Anna Pavlovna, was about her diplomatic relations with Austria and the hope of an alliance with her. Boris, grown more manly and looking fresh, rosy and self-possessed, entered the drawing-room elegantly dressed in the uniform of the camp, and was duly conducted to pay his respects to the aunt, and then brought back to the general circle. Anna Pavlovna gave him her shriveled hand to kiss and introduced him to several persons whom he did not know, giving him a whispered description of each. Prince Hippolyte Kurigan, M. Krug, the Charged Affair from Copenhagen, a profound intellect, and simply Mr. Shitovna, a man of great merit, this of the man usually so described. Thanks to Anna Pavlovna's efforts, his own tastes, and the peculiarities of his reserved nature, Boris had managed during his service to place himself very advantageously. He was an aide to camp to a very important personage, had been sent on a very important mission to Prussia, and had just returned from there as a special messenger. He had become thoroughly conversant with that unwritten code with which he had been so pleased at Ulmitz, and according to which an ensign might rank incomparably higher than a general, and according to which what was needed for success in the service was not effort, or work, or courage or perseverance, but only the knowledge of how to get on with those who can grant rewards, and he was himself often surprised at the rapidity of his success and at the inability of others to understand these things. In consequence of this discovery his whole manner of life, all his relations with old friends, all his plans for his future were completely altered. He was not rich but would rather spend his last grote to be better dressed than others, and would rather deprive himself of many pleasures than allow himself to be seen in a shabby equipage, or to appear in the streets of Petersburg in an old uniform. He made friends with and sought the acquaintance of only those above him in position, and therefore be of use to him. He liked Petersburg and despised Moscow. The remembrance of the Rostov's house and of his childish love for Natasha was unpleasant to him, and he had not once been to see the Rostov since the day of his departure for the army. To be in Anna Pavlovna's drawing-room he considered an important step up in his services, and he had once understood his role, letting his hostess make use of whatever interest he had to offer. He himself carefully scanned each face, appraising the possibilities of establishing intimacy with each of those present, and the advantages that might accrue. He took the seat indicated to him beside the fair Helene, and listened to the general conversation. Vienna considers the basis of the proposed treaty so unattainable that not even a continuity of the most brilliant successes would secure them, and she doubts the means we have of gaining them. That is the actual phrase used by the French, the Danish charged affairs. The doubt is flattering, said the man of profound intellect, with a subtle smile. We must distinguish between the Vienna cabinet and the Emperor of Austria, said Mordemart. The Emperor of Austria can never have thought such a thing. It is only the cabinet that says it. Ah, my der Vekant put in Anna Pavlovna. Le Rope. For some reason she called it a rope, as if that were especially refined French herself when conversing with a Frenchman. Le Rope ne serait jamais notre allie sincère. Translated, Europe will never be our sincere ally. After that Anna Pavlovna led up to the courage and firmness of the King of Prussia in order to draw Boris into the conversation. Boris listened attentively to each of the speakers, awaiting his turn, but managed, meanwhile, to look around repeatedly at his neighbor, the guys several time meant those of the handsome young aide to camp with a smile. Speaking of the position of Prussia, Anna Pavlovna very naturally asked Boris to tell him about his journey to Glogau and in what state he found the Prussian army. Boris, speaking with deliberation, told him in pure correct French many interesting details about the armies in the court, carefully abstaining from expressing an opinion of his own for some time he engrossed the general attention, and Anna Pavlovna felt that the novelty she had served up was received by pleasure by all her visitors. The greatest attention to all of Boris's narrative was shown by Helene. She asked him several questions about his journey and seemed greatly interested in the state of the Prussian army. As soon as he had finished she turned to him with her usual smile. You absolutely must come and see me, she said in a tone that implied certain considerations he could not know of, this was absolutely necessary. On Tuesday between eight and nine it will give me great pleasure. Boris promised to fulfill her wish and was about to begin a conversation with her when Anna Pavlovna called him away on the pretext that her aunt wished to hear him. You know her husband of course at Anna Pavlovna, closing her eyes and indicating Helene with a sourful gesture. Ah, she is such a charming and charming woman. Don't mention him before her, please don't. It is too painful for her. End of Chapter 6 Peace Book 5, Chapter 7 Read for LibriVox.org by Dan Webster When Boris and Anna Pavlovna returned to the others Prince Hippolyte had the ear of the company. Vending forward in his armchair he said, Leroy de Prus, and having said this, laughed. Everyone turned towards him. Leroy de Prus, Hippolyte said interrogatively, again laughing and then calmly and seriously sat back in his chair. Anna Pavlovna waited for him to go on, but as he seemed quite decided to say no more should begin to tell of how at Potsdam the impious Bonaparte had stolen the sword of Frederick the Great which I, she began, but Hippolyte interrupted her with the words, Leroy de Prus, and again, as soon as all turned toward him, excuse himself and said no more. Anna Pavlovna frowned. Mortimer, Hippolyte's friend addressed him firmly. Come now, what about your Roy de Prus? Hippolyte laughed as if ashamed of laughing. Anna Pavlovna frowned as if ashamed of laughing. Oh, it's nothing. I only wish to say he wanted to repeat a joke he had heard in Vienna in which he had been trying all that evening to get in. I only wish to say that we are wrong to fight poor Leroy de Prus. Boris smiled circumspectly so that it might be taken as ironical or appreciative according to one laughed. Your joke is too bad. It's witty, but unjust, said Anna Pavlovna, shaking her little shriveled finger at him. We are not fighting poor Leroy de Prus, but for right principles. Oh, that wicked Prince Hippolyte, she said. The conversation did not flag all evening and turn chiefly on the political news. It became particularly animated toward the end of the evening when the rewards bestowed by the emperor were mentioned. You know, N received a snuff box with the portrait last year, said the man of profound intellect. Why shouldn't S get the same distinction? Pardon me. A snuff box with the emperor's portrait is a reward, but not a distinction, said the diplomatist. A gift rather. There are precedents. I may mention Schwarzenberg. It's impossible, replied another. Will you bet? The ribbon of the order is a different matter. When everybody rose to go, Elena, who had spoken very little all the evening, again turned to Boris, asking him in a tone of caressing significant command to come to her on Tuesday. It is of great importance to me, she said, turning with a smile toward Anna Pavlovna, and Anna Pavlovna with the same sad smile with which she spoke of her exalted patroness supported Elena's wish. It seemed as if from some words Boris had spoken that evening about the Prussian army. Elena had suddenly found it necessary to see him. She seemed to promise to explain that necessity to him when he came on Tuesday. But on Tuesday evening, having come to Helene's splendid salon, Boris received no clear explanation of why it had been necessary for him to come. There were other guests, and the countess talked little to him, and only as he kissed her on the hand on taking leave, said unexpectedly and in a whisper with a strangely unsmiling face, come to dinner, you must come. During that stay in Petersburg, Boris became an intimate in the countess's house. End of Chapter 7 Recording by Dan Webster Libertyville, Illinois January, 2007 War and Peace Book 5, Chapter 8 Read for livervox.org by Anna Simon The war was flaming up and nearing the Russian frontier. Everywhere one heard curses on Bonaparte, the city of Mankind. Militia men and recruits were being enrolled in the villages, and from the seat of war came contradictory news, falls as usual, and therefore variously interpreted. The life of old Prince Balkansky, Prince Andrew, and Princess Mary had greatly changed since 1805. In 1806 the old prince was made one of the eight commanders-in-chief, then appointed to supervise the enrolment decreed throughout Russia. Despite the weakness of age, which had become particularly noticeable since the time when he thought his son had been killed, he did not think it right to refuse a duty to which he'd been appointed by the empire himself, and this fresh opportunity for action gave him new energy and strength. He was continually travelling through the three provinces entrusted to him, was pedantic in the fulfilment of his duties, severe to cruelty with his subordinates, and went into everything down to the minutest details himself. Princess Mary had seized taking lessons in mathematics from her father, and when the old prince was at home went to his study with the wet nurse and little Prince Nicholas, as his grandfather called him. The baby Prince Nicholas lived with his wet nurse and nurse Savishna in the late Prince's rooms, and Princess Mary spent most of the day in the nursery, taking her mother's place to her little nephew as best she could. Mbazel Burien too, seen passionately fond of the boy, and Princess Mary often deprived herself to give her friend the pleasure of dandling the little angel, as she called her nephew, and playing with him. Near the altar of the church at Bold Hills there was a chapel over the tomb of the little princess, and in this chapel was a marble monument brought from Italy representing an angel with outspread wings ready to fly upwards. The angel's upper lip was slightly raised as though about to smile, and once on coming out of the chapel Prince Andrew and Princess Mary admitted to one another that the angel's face reminded them strangely of the little princess. But what was still stranger, though this Prince Andrew said nothing to his sister, was that in the expression the sculptor had happened to give the angel's face, Prince Andrew read the same mild reproach he had read on the face of his dead wife. Ah, why have you done this to me? Soon after Prince Andrew's return, the old prince made over to him a large estate, Bogokarova, about 25 miles from Bold Hills. Partly because of the depressing memories associated with Bold Hills, partly because Prince Andrew did not always feel equal to bearing with his father's peculiarities, and partly because he needed solitude, Prince Andrew made use of Bogokarova, began building, and spent most of his time there. After the out solids campaign Prince Andrew had firmly resolved not to continue his military service, and when the war recommenced and everybody had to serve he took a post under his father in the recruitment, so as to avoid active service. The old prince and his son seemed to have changed roles since the campaign of 1805. The old man, roused by activity, expected the best results from the new campaign, while Prince Andrew on the country, taking no part in the war and secretly regretting this, saw only the dark side. On February 26, 1807 the old prince set off on one of his circuits. Prince Andrew remained at Bald Hills as usual during his father's absence. Little Nicholas had been unwell for four days. The coachman who had driven the old prince to town returned bringing papers and letters for Prince Andrew. Not finding the young prince in his study the valet went with the letters to Prince Mary's apartments, but did not find him there. He was told that the prince had gone to the nursery. If you please, Your Excellency Patricia has brought some papers, said one of the nursemates to Prince Andrew sitting on a child's little chair, while frowning and with trembling hands he poured drops from a medicine bottle into a wine glass half full of water. What is it? he said crossily, and his hand shaking unintentionally, he poured too many drops into the glass. He threw the mixture on to the floor and asked for some more water. The maid brought it. There were in the room a child's cot, two boxes, two armchairs, a table, a child's table, and the little chair on which Prince Andrew was sitting. The curtains were drawn, and a single candle was burning on the table, screened by a bound music-book so that the light did not fall on the cot. My dear, said Princess Mary, addressing her brother from beside the cot where she was standing. Better wait a bit, later. Oh, leave off! You always talk nonsense and keep putting things off, and this is what comes of it. Said Prince Andrew in an exasperated whisper, evidently wound his sister. My dear, really? It's better not to wake him. He's asleep! said the princess in a tone of entreaty. Prince Andrew got up and went on tiptoe up to the little bed, one glass in hand. Perhaps we'd really better not wake him, he said, hesitating. As you please, really. I think so. But as you please! said Princess Mary, evidently intimidated and confused that her opinion had prevailed. She drew her brother's attention to the maid who was calling him in a whisper. It was the second night that neither of them had slept, watching the boy who was in a high fever. These last days mistrusting their household doctor and expecting another for whom they had sent to town, they had been trying first one remedy and then another. Worn out by sleeplessness and anxiety, they threw their burden of sorrow on one another and reproached and disputed with each other. Patushia has come with papers from your father, whispered the maid. Prince Andrew went out. Devil take him, he muttered, and after listening to the verbal instructions his father had sent and taking the correspondence and his father's letter, he returned to the nursery. Well, he asked. Still the same. Wait, for heaven's sake. Carl Evenidge always says that sleep is more important than anything, whispered Princess Mary with a sigh. Prince Andrew went up to the child and felt him. He was burning hot. Confound you and your Carl Evenidge! He took the glass with the drops and again went up to the cot. Andrew, don't! said Princess Mary. But he scowled at her angrily, though also with suffering in his eyes and stooped glass and hand over the infant. But I wish it, he said. I beg you, give it him. Princess Mary shrugged her shoulders but took the glass submissively and calling on the nurse began giving the medicine. The child screamed hoarsely. Prince Andrew winced and clutching his head went out and sat down on a sofa in the next room. He still had all the letters in his hand, opening them mechanically he began reading. The old Prince now and then using abbreviations wrote in his large elongated hand on blue paper as follows. Have just this moment received by special messenger very joyful news, if it is not false. Bennixon seems to have obtained a complete victory over Buona part at Ilo. In Petersburg everyone is rejoicing and the rewards sent to the army are innumerable. Though he is a German, I congratulate him. I can't make out what the commander at Krokevo a certain Kandarkov is up to till now the additional men and provisions have not arrived. Gallop off to him at once and say I'll have his head off if everything is not here in a week. Have received another letter about the Prussian Ilo battle from Petenka. He took part in it and it's all true when mischief makers don't meddle even a German beats Buona part. He is said to be fleeing in great disorder. Mind you, Gallop off to Krogevo without delay and carry out instructions. Prince Andrew sighed and broke the seal of another envelope. It was a closely written letter of two sheets from Bilibin. He folded it up without reading it and reread his father's letter ending with the words Gallop off to Krogevo and carry out instructions. No, pardon me. I won't go now till the child is better. I thought he, going to the door and looking into the nursery. Princess Mary was still standing by the cot gently rocking the baby. Ah yes, and what else did he say that's unpleasant, thought Prince Andrew recalling his father's letter. Yes, we've gained a victory over Buona part just when I'm not serving. Yes, yes, he's always poking fun at me. Ah well, let him. And he began reading Bilibin's letter which was written in French. He read without understanding half of it to get, if but for a moment, what he had too long been thinking of so painfully to the exclusion of all else. End of Chapter 8. War and Peace Book 5 Chapter 9 Read for LibriVox.org by Eva Harnick Bilibin was now at army headquarters in a diplomatic capacity and though he wrote in French gests and French idioms, he described the whole campaign with a fearless self-censure and self-derision genuinely Russian. Bilibin wrote that the obligation of diplomatic discretion tormented him and he was happy to have in Prince Andrew a reliable correspondent to whom he could pour out the ball he had accumulated at the sight of all that was being done in the army. The letter was old, having been written before the battle at Preusich Islar. Since the day of our brilliant success at Osterlitz, Lord Bilibin, as you know my dear Prince I never leave headquarters. I have certainly acquired a taste for war and it is just as well for me. What I have seen during these last three months is incredible. I begin above the enemy of the human race as you know, attacks the Prussians. The Prussians are our faithful allies who have only detailed us three times in three years. We take up their cause but it turns out that the enemy of the human race pays no heed to our fine speeches and in his rude and savage way throws himself on the Prussians without giving them time to finish the parade they had begun and in two twists of the hand he breaks them to smithereens and installs himself in the palace at Potsdam. I most ardently desire writes the king of Prussia to Bonaparte that your majesty should be received and treated in my palace in a manner agreeable to yourself and in so far as circumstances allowed I have hastened to take all steps to that end. May I have succeeded. The Prussian generals pride themselves on being polite to the French and lay down their arms at first demand. The head of the garrison at Glogau with ten thousand men asks the king of Prussia what he is to do if he is summoned to surrender. All this is absolutely true. In short, hoping to settle matters by taking up a warlike attitude it turns out that we have landed ourselves in war and what is more in war on our own frontiers with and for the king of Prussia we have everything in perfect order only one little thing is lacking namely a commander in chief as it was considered that the orderly success might have been more decisive had the commander in chief not been so young all our octogenarians were reviewed and of Prozorowski and Kamenski the latter was preferred. The general comes to us Suvorov-like in a kibitka and is received with the help of joy and triumph. On the force the first courier arrives from Petersburg the males are taken to the Field Marshal's room for he likes to do everything himself I am called in to help sort the letters and take those meant for us the Field Marshal looks on and waits for letters addressed to him we search but none are to be found the Field Marshal grows impatient and sets to work himself and find letters from the emperor to Count T Prince V and others then he burst into one of his wild theories and rages at everyone and everything seizes the letters opens them and reads those from the emperor addressed to others ah so that's the way they treat me no confidence in me ah ordered to keep an eye on me very well then get along with you so he writes the famous order of the day to general Benningson I am wounded and cannot ride and consequently cannot command the army you have brought your army corpse to Pultusk routed here it is exposed and without fuel or forage so something must be done and as you yourself reported to Count Boxhoud and yesterday you must think of retreating to our frontier which do today from all my riding he writes to the emperor I have got a saddle sore which coming after all my previous journeys quite prevents my riding and commanding so passed an army so I have passed on the command to the general next in seniority Count Boxhoud then having sent him my whole staff and all that belongs to it advising him if there is a lack of bread to move father into the interior of Prussia for only one day's ration of bread remains and in some regiments not at all as reported by the division commanders Ostermann and Zedmoretsky and all that the peasant had has been eaten up I myself will remain in hospital at Ostolenka till I recover in regard to which I humbly submit my report with the information that if the army remains in its present bivouac and not a fortnight there will not be a healthy man left in its by spring Grant leave to retire to his country seat to an old man who is already in any case dishonored by being unable to fulfill the great and glorious task for which he was chosen I shall await your most gracious permission here in hospital that I may not have to play the part of a secretary rather than commander in the army my removal from the army does not produce the slightest stir a blind man has left it there are thousands such as I in Russia the Field Marshal is angry with the Emperor and he punishes us all isn't it logical this is the first act those that follow are naturally increasingly interesting and entertaining after the Field Marshal's departure it appears that we are within sight of the enemy and must give all Bach's Holden is commander in chief by seniority but General Benningsen does not quite see it more particularly as it is he and his corpse who are within sight of the enemy and he wishes to profit by the opportunity to fight a battle on his own hand as the Germans say he does so this is the battle of Purtusk which is considered a great victory but in my opinion but nothing of the kind we civilians as you know have a very bad way of deciding whether a battle was won or lost those who retreat after the battle have lost it is what we say and according to that it is we who lost the battle of Purtusk in short we retreat after the battle but send a courier to Petersburg with news of a victory and General Benningsen hoping to receive from Petersburg the post of commander in chief as a reward for his victory does not give up the command of the army to general Bach's Holden during this interregnum we begin a very original and interesting series of maneuvers our aim is no longer as it should be to avoid or attack the enemy but solely to avoid General Bach's Holden who by right of seniority should be our chief so energetically do we pursue this aim that after crossing an unfordable river we burn the bridges to separate ourselves our enemy who at that moment is not born but Bach's Holden General Bach's Holden was all but attacked and captured by a superior enemy force as a result of one of these maneuvers that enabled us to escape him Bach's Holden pursues us we scuttle he hardly crosses the river to our side we recross to the other at last our enemy Bach's Holden catches us and attacks both generals are angry and the result is a challenge on Bach's Holden's part and an epileptic fit on Benningson's but at the critical moment the courier who carried the news of our victory at Pultusk to Petersburg bringing our appointment as commander in chief and our first foe Bach's Holden is vanquished we can now turn our thoughts to the second Bonaparte but as it turns out just at that moment a third enemy rises before us namely the Orthodox Russian soldiers loudly demanding bread meat, biscuits, fodder not the stores are empty the roads impassable the Orthodox begin looting and in a way of which our last campaign can give you no idea half the regiments form vans and scar the countryside and put everything to file and sort the inhabitants are totally ruined the hospitals overflow the public and famine is everywhere twice the Maroudas even attack our headquarters and the commander in chief has to ask for a battalion to disperse them during one of these attacks they carried off my empty portmanteau and my dressing gown the emperor proposes to give all commanders of divisions the right to shoot Maroudas but I much fear this will oblige one half the army to shoot the other at first prince Andrew read with his eyes only but after a while in spite of himself although he knew how far it was safe to trust billy bin what he had read began to interest him more and more when he had read thus far he crumpled the letter up and threw it away it was not what he had read that waxed him but the fact that the life out there in which he had now no part could perturb him he shut his eyes rubbed his forehead as if to rid himself of all interest in what he had read and listen to what was passing in the nursery suddenly he thought he heard a strange noise through the door he was seized with alarm lest something should have happened to the child while he was reading the letter he went on tiptoe to the nursery door and opened it just as he went in he saw that the nurse was hiding something from him with a scared look princess mary was no longer by the cot my dear he heard what seemed to him her despairing whisper behind him as often happens after long sleeplessness and long anxiety he was seized by an unreasoning panic it occurred to him that the child was dead all that he saw and heard seemed to confirm his error all is over he thought and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead he went to the cot in confusion sure that he would find it empty and that the nurse had been hiding the dead baby he drew the curtain aside and for some time his frightened restless eyes could not find the baby at last he saw him the rosy boy had tossed about till he lay across the bed with his head lowered and the pillow and was smacking his lips in his sleep and breathing evenly prince andrew was as glad to find the boy like that as if he had already lost him he bent over him and as his sister had taught him tried with his lips whether the child was still feverish the soft forehead was moist prince andrew touched the head with his hand even the hair was wet so profusely had the child perspired he was not dead but evidently the crisis was over and he was convalescent prince andrew longed to snatch up to hold to his heart this helpless little creature but dare not do so he stood over him gazing at his head and at the little arms and legs which showed under the blanket he heard a rustle behind him and the shadow appeared under the curtain of the cot he did not look round but still gazing infant's face listened to his regular breathing the dark shadow was princess mary who had come up to the cot with noiseless steps lifted the curtain and dropped it again behind her prince andrew recognized her without looking and held out his hand to her she pressed it he has perspired said prince andrew I was coming to tell you so the child moved slightly in his sleep smiled and rubbed his forehead against the pillow prince andrew looked at his sister in the dim shadow of the curtain her luminous eyes shone more brightly than usual from the tears of joy that were in them she leaned over to her brother and kissed him slightly catching the curtain of the cot each made the other a warning gesture and stood still in the dim light beneath the curtain as if not wishing to leave that seclusion where they three were shut off from all the world prince andrew was the first to move away ruffling his head against the muslin of the curtain yes this is the one thing left me now he said with a sigh end of chapter 9 recording by Ava Harnick Pontevedra, Florida soon after his admission to the Masonic brotherhood Pierre went to the Kiev province where he had the greatest number of serfs taking with him full directions which he had written down for his own guidance as to what he should do on his estates when he reached Kiev he sent for all his stewards to the head office and explained to them his intentions and wishes he told them that steps would be taken immediately to free his serfs and that till then they were not to be overburdened with labor women while nursing their babies were not to be sent to work assistance was to be given to the serfs punishments were to be admonitory and not corporal and hospitals asylums and schools were to be established on all the estates some of the stewards there were semi-literate foremen among them listened with alarm supposing these words to mean that the young count was displeased with their management and embezzlement of money some after their first fright were amused by Pierre's lisp and the new words they had not heard before others simply enjoyed hearing how the master talked while the cleverest among them including the chief steward understood from this speech how they could best handle the master for their own ends the chief steward expressed great sympathy with Pierre's intentions but remarked that besides these changes it would be necessary to go into the general state of affairs which was far from satisfactory despite Count Pesugov's enormous wealth since he had come into an income which was said to amount to 500,000 rubles a year Pierre felt himself far poorer than when his father had made him an allowance of 10,000 rubles he had a dim perception of the following budget about 80,000 went in payments on all the estates to the land bank about 30,000 went for the upkeep of the estate near Moscow the townhouse and the allowance to the three princesses about 15,000 was given in pensions in the same amount for asylums 150,000 alimony was sent to the Countess about 70,000 went for interest on debts the building of a new church previously begun had cost about 10,000 in each of the last two years and he did not know how the rest about 100,000 rubles was spent and almost every year he was obliged to borrow besides this the chief steward wrote every year telling him of fires and bad harvests or of the necessity of rebuilding factories and workshops so the first task Pierre had to face was one for which he had very little aptitude or inclination practical business he discussed estate affairs every day with his chief steward but he felt that this did not forward matters at all he felt that these consultations were detached from real affairs and did not link up with them or make them move on the one hand Pierre put the state of things to him in the very worst light pointing out the necessity of paying off the debts and undertaking new activities with serf labor to which Pierre did not agree on the other hand Pierre demanded that steps should be taken to liberate the serfs which the steward met by showing the necessity of first paying off the loans from the land bank and the consequent impossibility of a speedy emancipation the steward did not say it was quite possible but suggested selling the forests in the province of Castroma the land lower down the river and the Crimean estate in order to make it possible all of which operations according to him were connected with such complicated measures the removal of injunctions petitions permits and so on that Pierre became quite bewildered and only replied yes, yes, do so Pierre had none of the practical persistence of enabled him to attend to the business himself and so he disliked it and only tried to pretend to the steward that he was attending to it the steward for his part tried to pretend to the count that he considered these consultations very valuable for the proprietor and troublesome to himself in Kiev, Pierre found some people he knew and strangers hastened to make his acquaintance and joyfully welcomed the rich newcomer the largest landowner of the province temptations to Pierre's greatest weakness the one to which he confessed when admitted to the lodge were so strong that he could not resist them again whole days, weeks and months of his life passed in his greater rush and were as much occupied with evening parties dinners, lunches and balls giving him no time for reflection as in Petersburg instead of the new life he had hoped to lead he still lived the old life only in new surroundings of the three precepts of Freemasonry Pierre realized that he did not fulfill the one which enjoined every Mason to set an example of moral life and that of the seven virtues he lacked too morality and the love of death he consoled himself with a thought that he fulfilled another of the precepts that of reforming the human race and had other virtues love of his neighbor and especially generosity in the spring of 1807 he decided to return to Petersburg on the way he intended to visit all his estates and see for himself how far his orders have been carried out and in what state were the serfs whom God had entrusted to his care and whom he intended to benefit the chief steward who considered the young counts attempts almost insane unprofitable to himself to the count and to the serfs made some concessions continuing to represent the liberation of the serfs as impracticable he arranged for the erection of large buildings schools hospitals and asylums on all the estates before the master arrived everywhere preparations were made not for ceremonious welcomes which he knew Pierre would not like but for just such gratefully religious ones with offerings of icons and the bread and salt of hospitality as according to his understanding of his master would touch and delude him the southern spring the comfortable rapid traveling in a Vienna carriage and the solitude of the road all had a gladdening effect on Pierre the estates he had not before visited were each more picturesque than the other the serfs everywhere seemed thriving and touchingly grateful for the benefits conferred on them everywhere were receptions which though they embarrassed Pierre awakened a joyful feeling in the depth of his heart in one place the peasants presented him with bread and salt and an icon of Saint Peter and Saint Paul asking permission as a mark of their gratitude for the benefits he had conferred on them to build a new chantry to the church with his own expense in honor of Peter and Paul his patron saints in another place the women with infants and arms met him to thank him for releasing them from hard work on a third estate the priest bearing a cross came to meet him surrounded by children whom by the count's generosity he was instructing and reading writing and religion on all his estates Pierre saw with his own eyes all the buildings erected or in course of erection all on one plan for hospitals, schools and almshouses which were soon to be opened everywhere he saw the stewards accounts according to which the serfs' menorial labor had been diminished and heard the touching thanks of deputations of serfs in their full-skirted blue coats what Pierre did not know was that the place where they presented him bread and salt and wished to build a chantry in honor of Peter and Paul was a market village where a fair was held on St. Peter's Day and that the richest peasants who formed the deputation had begun the chantry long before but that nine-tenths of the peasants in that villages were in a state of the greatest poverty he did not know that since the nursing mothers were no longer sent to work on his land they did still harder work on their own land he did not know that the priest who met him with a cross oppressed the peasants by his exactions and that the pupils' parents wept at having to let him take their children and secure their release by heavy payments he did not know that the brick buildings built to plan were being built by serfs whose menorial labor was thus increased though lessened on paper he did not know Peter's Bird had shown him in the accounts that the serfs' payments had been diminished by a third their obligatory menorial work had been increased by a half and so Pierre was delighted with his visit to his estates and quite recovered the philanthropic mood in which he had left Peter's Bird and wrote enthusiastic letters to his brother instructor as he called the Grand Master how easy it is how little effort it needs to do so much good on Pierre and how little attention we pay to it he was pleased at the gratitude he received but felt abashed at receiving it this gratitude reminded him of how much more he might do for these simple kindly people the chief steward a very stupid but cunning man who saw perfectly through the naive and intelligent count and played with him as with a toy seeing the effect these prearranged receptions had on Pierre pressed him still harder with proofs of the impossibility and above all the uselessness of freeing the serfs who were quite happy as it was Pierre and his secret soul agreed with the steward that it would be difficult to imagine happier people and that God only knew what would happen to them when they were free but he insisted though reluctantly on what he thought right the steward promised to do all in his power to carry out the Count's wishes seeing clearly that not only would the Count never be able to find out whether all measures had been taken for the sale of the land and forests and to release them from the land bank but would probably never even inquire and would never know that the newly erected buildings were standing empty and that the serfs continued to give in money and work