Petersburg, 23 November
I am living with my wife again. My mother-in-law came round to see me in tears and told me that Helene was here, begging to be listened to, that she was innocent, that she was miserable at my desertion of her, and much more besides. I knew that if I once gave in and saw her I wouldn't be able to hold out against her wishes. In my uncertainty, I didn't know who to turn to for help and advice. If only my benefactor had been here he would have told me what to do. I retired to my room, read through Osip's letters and recalled my conversations with him, all of which led me to the conclusion that I must not refuse a supplicant, I must extend a helping hand to anyone, especially someone close to me, and that I must bear my cross. But if I have forgiven her, this being the right thing to do, let my reunion with her have nothing but a spiritual purpose. This is my decision, and this is what I have written to Bazdeyev. I have told my wife I want her to forget the past, I have asked her forgiveness for any harm I might have done to her, and told her I have nothing to forgive her for. It gave me great joy to tell her that. She's not to know how hard it was for me to see her again. I have now installed myself on the top floor of this huge house, and I'm now experiencing a happy feeling of regeneration.
CHAPTER 9
At that time the high society people that came together at court and at the great balls broke down as always into several circles, each having a character of its own. The largest among them was the French circle of Count Rumyantsev and Caulaincourt which supported the Napoleonic alliance. Helene had assumed a prominent position in this circle once she had become established in her husband's house in Petersburg. She received gentlemen from the French embassy and a great number of people famous for their wit and their polished manners who subscribed to that tendency.
Helene had been at Erfurt for the famous meeting between the two Emperors and had returned well connected to all the notable pro-Napoleon figures in Europe. In Erfurt she had been brilliantly successful. Napoleon himself, seeing her at the theatre, had asked who she was and spoken well of her beauty. Her success as a beautiful and elegant woman came as no surprise to Pierre, for with the years she had become more beautiful than ever. What did surprise him was that over the last two years his wife had managed to gain a reputation as 'a charming woman with a mind as sharp as her beauty'. The celebrated Prince de Ligne wrote her letters eight pages long. Bilibin saved up his witticisms so as to issue them for the first time in the presence of Countess Bezukhov. To be received in her salon was to be certified as an intellectual. Young men read up on things before going to one of Helene's soirees so they would have something to say in her salon, and embassy secretaries, even ambassadors, entrusted her with diplomatic secrets, all of which gave Helene a certain authority. Pierre, knowing how stupid she really was, sometimes felt an odd mixture of bewilderment and alarm at her dinner-parties and soirees when the conversation turned to politics, poetry or philosophy. At soirees he felt like a conjurer constantly expecting to have his tricks seen through at any moment. But either because the successful management of a salon like this depended on nothing but stupidity or because those who were taken in found it all very amusing, the sham was never exposed and the reputation of being 'a charming woman with a sharp mind' stuck to Helene Bezukhov so effectively that she could come out with the most vulgar banalities and still find everyone hanging on her every word and, more than that, discovering in what she said profound meanings that she had never dreamt of.
Pierre was the ideal husband for such a brilliant society woman. He was just an absent-minded eccentric, a grand seigneur of a husband who kept out of the way and, far from lowering the high tone of her drawing-room, acted a useful foil to her by being his wife's exact opposite in elegance and savoir-faire. In his wife's circle, which he found utterly boring, Pierre's constant obsession with otherworldly considerations over the last two years, along with his genuine contempt for everything else, gave him a special attitude of casual indifference and all-round benevolence, the sort that cannot be acquired artificially and therefore commands instant respect. He would walk into his wife's drawing-room as if it was a theatre, he knew everybody there and he treated them all with equal courtesy and equal indifference. From time to time he would get into a conversation that sounded interesting and then, without bothering to check whether or not there were any embassy gentlemen present, he would bumble on, voicing opinions which were sometimes quite embarrassing for that particular company. But the general opinion of this eccentric man, married to 'the most distinguished woman in Petersburg', was now so well established that no one took his pronouncements at all seriously.
After Helene's return from Erfurt, Boris Drubetskoy, now a great success in the service, stood out among the many young men visiting Helene's house on a daily basis as the closest friend of the Bezukhov household. Helene called him her page and treated him like a child. She smiled at him the way she smiled at everyone else, but sometimes that smile grated on Pierre. Boris's attitude to Pierre was one of exaggerated dignity and lugubrious respect. This particular tone of respect also worried Pierre. He had suffered so much humiliation three years ago because of his wife, that now he was shielding himself against any possibility of further humiliation, first by being a husband in name only and then by not allowing himself to become suspicious.
'No, she's a blue-stocking now. She's renounced those old affairs for good,' he said to himself. 'There's never been a case of a blue-stocking having any passions of the heart,' he kept telling himself - a general principle he had picked up somewhere and certainly believed in. But curiously enough the presence of Boris in his wife's drawing-room - and he was nearly always there - had a physical effect on Pierre. It tied him up in knots and destroyed all his instinctive freedom to move.
'Such a strange aversion,' thought Pierre, 'and at one time I used to be very fond of him.'
In society's eyes Pierre was a fine gentleman, something of a laughing stock, the purblind husband of a distinguished wife, a clever eccentric who never did anything but was quite harmless, a nice fellow with his heart in the right place. Meanwhile Pierre's spirit was undergoing a complex and difficult process of inner development that would be a revelation to him and lead to a host of spiritual doubts and delights.
CHAPTER 10
Pierre went on with his diary and this is what he wrote in it at that time: 24 November
Got up at eight, read the Scriptures, then went to my duties. (Following the advice of his benefactor Pierre was serving on a government committee.)
Came back for lunch and dined alone (countess had lots of guests I don't like), ate and drank with moderation, and spent the afternoon copying out passages for the brothers. In the evening I went down to the countess. Told a joke about B, and only realized I shouldn't have done when they all roared with laughter.
I go to my bed in a calm and happy frame of mind. Help me, O Lord, to walk in Thy ways: (1) to defeat anger through gentleness and deliberation; (2) to conquer lust through self-restraint and a sense of revulsion; (3) to withdraw from all worldly vanities without abandoning (a) government work, (b) family duties, (c) relations with friends, (d) care over finances.
27 November
Got up late after a long lie-in, complete idleness. O God, help me and strengthen me that I may walk in Thy ways. Read the Scriptures, but without any true feeling. Brother Urusov called - conversation about worldly vanity. Told me about the Tsar's new projects. I was on the point of coming out against them, but then remembered my principles and the words of my benefactor: a true mason should work hard for his country when his contribution is needed but watch quietly when not called upon.
My tongue is my enemy. More visitors: G, V and O - preparatory conversation about initiation of new brother. Duty of tyler laid upon me. Feel feeble and unworthy. Then talk of the full meaning of the seven pillars and steps of the Temple, the seven sciences, the seven virtues, the seven vices, the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. Brother O was very eloquent. Initiation this evenin
g. Newly decorated building added much to the splendour of the occasion. Boris Drubetskoy was admitted. I nominated him and acted as tyler. A strange feeling worried me all the time I was with him in the dark temple. I found myself hating him - am trying to control this feeling, without success. Which is why I would dearly like to save him from evil and lead him into the way of truth, but I couldn't get evil thoughts about him out of my own mind. It occurred to me that his only reason for joining the brotherhood was to make new contacts and curry favour with men in our lodge. He kept asking whether N or S were members of our lodge (which I couldn't answer) and he seems to me incapable of feeling any reverence for our holy order, because he is too preoccupied, and satisfied, with his own exterior to bother much about improving his spiritual being. Apart from all this I had no grounds for doubting him, though I did think he lacked sincerity and all the time we stood face to face in the dark temple I got the impression he was smiling and sneering at my words, and what I wanted to do was really stab him in his bare chest with the sword I was pointing at it. I wasn't at all fluent and I couldn't communicate my doubts as I should have done to the brothers and the Grand Master. O Great Architect of All Creation, help me find the true path that leads out of this maze of falsehood!
The next three pages of the diary were left blank, then it went on as follows: Had a long and instructive private conversation with Brother V - he advised me to cleave to Brother A. Much was revealed to me, unworthy as I am. Adonai is the name of the Great Creator. Elohim is the name of the Ruler of All. The third name is the name unutterable, but its meaning is the All. These talks with Brother V strengthen and refresh me, and confirm me in the path of virtue. In his presence there is no room for doubt. I can see a clear distinction between the pathetic doctrines of worldly science and our sacred, universal teaching. Human science works by breaking everything down and kills everything off for the purpose of analysis. In the sacred science of our order all is one, everything is known by wholeness and vitality. The trinity - the three elements of matter - are sulphur, mercury and salt. Sulphur has the properties of oil and fire; combined with salt it employs its fieriness to stimulate attraction, which draws in mercury, seizes it, retains it and combines with it to create various substances. Mercury is liquid and volatile, the spiritual essence - Christ, the Holy Ghost, Him.
3 December
Woke late, read the Scriptures, no feeling for it. Then went down and walked up and down in the big hall. Tried to meditate, but instead of that my imagination kept coming back to an incident that occurred four years ago. When Dolokhov met me after the duel in Moscow he said he hoped I was easy in my mind now, even though my wife had gone. At the time I didn't respond. Now I could remember every last detail of that meeting, and I replied to him mentally in the most vindictive and vitriolic words I could find. I pulled myself together and got rid of that idea, but only after I had caught myself livid with anger, and my remorse was inadequate. Then Boris Drubetskoy called with all sorts of stories to tell. The moment he arrived I felt unhappy about his visit and said something awful to him. He said something back. I lost my temper and gave him a terrible mouthful - some of it was very crude. He said nothing, and I came to my senses - but it was too late. My God, I just can't stand the man! But it's my vanity that causes all the trouble. I think I'm better than him, which makes me a lot worse, because he can condone my rudeness but I go on sneering at him. God grant that in his presence I may see my own vileness more clearly and act in such a way that even he may profit by it. Had a nap this afternoon, and as I was nodding off I distinctly heard a voice saying in my left ear, 'This is thy day.'
Dreamt I was walking along in the dark and suddenly there were dogs all round me, but I wasn't scared and I walked on. Suddenly a little dog sank its teeth in my left thigh and wouldn't let go. I tried to strangle it. But as soon as I yanked it away, another dog, a bigger one, leapt up and grabbed at my chest. I yanked this one away too, but then came a third one, bigger still, and he began to bite me. I lifted it off the ground, and the more I lifted the bigger and heavier it became. Then suddenly Brother A came up, took me by the arm, led me away and brought me to a building which you could only enter across a narrow plank. I stepped on to it but the plank bent and gave way, and then I found myself scrabbling up a wall which I just managed to get my hands on to. I made a huge effort and dragged my body up so that my legs dangled down on one side and my body on the other. I looked round and saw Brother A standing on the wall pointing to a great avenue and garden, and in the garden there was a huge, beautiful building. Then I woke up. O Lord, Great Architect of All Creation, help me to tear away these dogs, my evil passions, and especially the last one, the one that compounds the strength of all the others, and help me to enter into the temple of virtue which appeared to me as a vision in my dream.
7 December
Dreamt that Osip Bazdeyev was sitting in my house and I was very pleased to see him and wanted him to feel at home. But I kept chatting away constantly with other people, and all at once I realized this couldn't be to his liking and I wanted to get close to him and embrace him. But the moment I approached him I saw that his face had changed and had grown young, and he spoke to me softly, very softly, telling me something from the teachings of our order, but so softly that I couldn't hear. Then we all left the room, and something strange happened. We were either sitting or lying on the floor. He was telling me something. But I wanted to demonstrate what a sensitive person I was, so I wasn't listening. I began to picture the state of my own inner being, and the grace of God sanctifying me. And tears came into my eyes, and I was pleased to see he noticed. But he glanced at me in annoyance, jumped to his feet and broke off our conversation. I cowered away and asked him whether what he had been saying applied to me. He didn't answer, but he gave me a friendly look, and then all of a sudden we found ourselves in my bedroom, where there was a big double bed. He lay down on one edge, and I lay down too, burning with a desire to hug him. And in my dream he asked me, 'Tell me the truth, what is your worst temptation? Do you know what it is? I think you do.' Embarrassed by this question, I answered that idleness was my worst temptation. He shook his head in disbelief. And even more embarrassed, I told him that although I was living here with my wife, it was not like man and wife together. His response was that I had no right to deprive my wife of my embraces, and gave me to understand that this was my duty. I was just telling him that this was all very embarrassing when suddenly everything disappeared. And when I woke I had in my mind a biblical text: 'And the life was the light of men; and the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.'
Osip Alexeyevich's face had looked young and radiant. That day I received a letter from my benefactor in which he wrote about responsibilities within marriage.
9 December
Dreamt again and woke up with a quaking heart. Dreamt I was in Moscow at home in the big sitting-room and Osip came in out of the drawing-room. I knew immediately that he had completed the process of regeneration, and I rushed to meet him. I kissed him on the face and hands, and he said, 'Do you not notice that my face is different?' I looked at him, still holding him in my arms, and I saw that his face was young, but he had no hair on his head and his features were quite different. And I said to him, 'I would have recognized you if we had met by chance,' and as I said this I thought, 'Am I telling the truth?' Then suddenly I saw him lying there looking like a corpse, but he came round gradually and walked with me into the big study, holding a big book of drawing paper. I said, 'I drew all that.' And he answered by bowing his head. I opened the book, and all the pages were covered with splendid drawings. I knew that these pictures depicted the soul's erotic exploits with her lover. And I saw on those pages a wonderful drawing of a maiden with transparent clothes on her transparent body, soaring up into the clouds. And I knew that this maiden was nothing other than a representation of the Song of Songs. And as I looked at these pictures I felt I was doing something wrong but I couldn't tear myself away from t
hem. Help me, Lord! Father, if it be Thy will to forsake me, then Thy will be done, but if I am the cause of these things, teach me what I am to do. I shall perish in my vileness if Thou shouldst utterly forsake me.
CHAPTER 11
The Rostovs' financial position had not improved during the two years spent in the country.
Although Nikolay Rostov had stuck firmly to his resolution, and was still living on modest means in an obscure regiment, the way of life at Otradnoye, especially the way Mitenka ran things, was enough to ensure that their debts rose inexorably year by year. The only remedy that seemed at all obvious to the old count was for him to enter government service, and he had come to Petersburg now to look for a position, and at the same time, as he put it, to let his lassies have one last fling.
Shortly after the Rostovs' arrival in Petersburg, Berg proposed to Vera and his proposal was accepted. Although in Moscow the Rostovs were high society people, without ever realizing it, because their social standing could be taken for granted, in Petersburg their position was delicate and uncertain. In Petersburg they were provincials, too lowly for some people who had been their dinner-guests in Moscow and had never wondered then what level of society they belonged to.
The Rostovs were no less hospitable in Petersburg than they had been in Moscow; and a wide variety of people would foregather at their house for supper - there might be the odd country neighbour, an elderly gentleman with daughters but not much money, and an old maid-of-honour, Madame Peronsky, Pierre Bezukhov, anyone down to the son of their district postmaster, who was working in the city. Among the first of the men to become regular visitors at the Rostovs' house in Petersburg, you might say family friends, were Boris, Pierre, who had bumped into the old count in the street and been dragooned into coming, and also Berg, who now spent days on end with the Rostovs, fussing round Vera, the elder of the two young countesses, in the manner of a young man working himself up to make a proposal.