There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Diary, old oak and the last illusion

"War and Peace. 16 - Volume 2"

* PART THREE. *

In 1808, Emperor Alexander traveled to Erfurt for a new meeting with Emperor Napoleon, and in high society in St. Petersburg there was a lot of talk about the greatness of this solemn meeting.

In 1809, the closeness of the two rulers of the world, as Napoleon and

Alexandra, it got to the point that when Napoleon declared war this year

Austria, then the Russian corps went abroad to assist its former enemy Bonaparte against its former ally, Austrian Emperor;

to the point that in high society they talked about the possibility of a marriage between Napoleon and one of the sisters of Emperor Alexander. But, in addition to external political considerations, at this time the attention of Russian society was especially keenly drawn to the internal transformations that were being carried out at that time in all parts of public administration.

Life meanwhile real life people with their own essential interests of health, illness, work, leisure, with their interests of thought, science, poetry, music, love, friendship, hatred, passions, proceeded as always independently and outside of political affinity or enmity with Napoleon Bonaparte, and outside of all possible transformations.

Prince Andrei lived in the village without a break for two years. All those enterprises on estates that Pierre started and did not bring to any result, constantly moving from one thing to another, all these enterprises, without showing them to anyone and without noticeable labor, were carried out by Prince Andrei.

He had in highest degree that practical tenacity that Pierre lacked, which, without scope or effort on his part, gave movement to the matter.

One of his estates of three hundred peasant souls was transferred to free cultivators (this was one of the first examples in Russia); in others, corvee was replaced by quitrent. In Bogucharovo, a learned grandmother was written out to his account to help mothers in labor, and for a salary the priest taught the children of peasants and courtyard servants to read and write.

Prince Andrei spent half of his time in Bald Mountains with his father and son, who was still with the nannies; the other half of the time in the Bogucharov monastery, as his father called his village. Despite the indifference he showed Pierre to all the external events of the world, he diligently followed them, received many books, and to his surprise he noticed when fresh people came to him or his father from St. Petersburg, from the very whirlpool of life, that these people, in knowledge of everything that happens in the external and domestic policy, far behind him, who was sitting in the village without a break.

In addition to classes on names, except general studies While reading a wide variety of books, Prince Andrei was at this time engaged in a critical analysis of our last two unfortunate campaigns and drawing up a project to change our military regulations and regulations.

In the spring of 1809, Prince Andrei went to the Ryazan estates of his son, whom he was guardian.

Warmed by the spring sun, he sat in the stroller, looking at the first grass, the first birch leaves and the first clouds of white spring clouds scattering across the bright blue sky. He didn’t think about anything, but looked around cheerfully and meaninglessly.

We passed the carriage on which he had spoken with Pierre a year ago.

We drove through a dirty village, threshing floors, greenery, a descent with remaining snow near the bridge, an ascent through washed-out clay, stripes of stubble and green bushes here and there, and entered a birch forest on both sides of the road. It was almost hot in the forest; you couldn’t hear the wind. The birch tree, all covered with green sticky leaves, did not move, and from under last year’s leaves, lifting them, the first green grass crawled out and purple flowers. Small spruce trees scattered here and there throughout the birch forest with their coarse, eternal greenery were an unpleasant reminder of winter. The horses snorted as they rode into the forest and began to fog up.

Lackey Peter said something to the coachman, the coachman answered in the affirmative. But you can see

The coachman's sympathy was not enough for Peter: he turned on the box to the master.

Your Excellency, how easy it is! - he said, smiling respectfully.

Easy, your Excellency.

"What he says?" thought Prince Andrei. “Yes, it’s true about spring,” he thought, looking around. And everything is already green... so soon! And the birch, and the bird cherry, and the alder are already starting... But the oak is not noticeable. Yes, there it is, the oak ".

There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker and twice as tall as each birch.

It was a huge oak tree, two girths wide, with branches that had been broken off for a long time and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge, clumsy, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled hands and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.

"Spring, and love, and happiness!" - as if this oak tree was saying, “and how can you not get tired of the same stupid and senseless deception? Everything is the same, and everything is a deception! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look, the crushed dead are sitting ate, always the same, and there I was, spreading out my broken, tattered fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides; just as they grew, I stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”

Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn.

“Yes, he is right, this oak tree is a thousand times right,” thought Prince Andrei, let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life - our life is over! A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think over his whole life again, and came to the same old reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he did not need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything.

On guardianship matters of the Ryazan estate, Prince Andrei had to see district leader. The leader was Count Ilya Andreich Rostov, and the prince

Andrey went to see him in mid-May.

It was already a hot period of spring. The forest was already completely dressed, there was dust and it was so hot that driving past the water, I wanted to swim.

Prince Andrei, gloomy and preoccupied with considerations about what and what he needed to ask the leader about matters, drove up the garden alley to the Rostovs’ Otradnensky house. To the right, from behind the trees, he heard a woman's cheerful cry, and saw a crowd of girls running towards his stroller. Ahead of the others, closer to the carriage, a black-haired, very thin, strangely thin, black-eyed girl in a yellow cotton dress, tied with a white handkerchief, was running up to the carriage, from under which strands of combed hair were escaping.

The girl shouted something, but recognizing the stranger, without looking at him, she ran back laughing.

Prince Andrei suddenly felt pain from something. The day was so good, the sun was so bright, everything was so cheerful; and this thin and pretty girl did not know and did not want to know about his existence and was content and happy with some kind of separate, certainly stupid, but cheerful and happy life.

“Why is she so happy? What is she thinking about! Not about the military regulations, not about the structure of the Ryazan quitrents. What is she thinking about? And why is she happy?” Prince Andrei involuntarily asked himself with curiosity.

Count Ilya Andreich in 1809 lived in Otradnoye the same as before, that is, hosting almost the entire province, with hunts, theaters, dinners and musicians. He, like any new guest, was glad to see Prince Andrei, and almost forcibly left him to spend the night.

Throughout the boring day, during which Prince Andrei was occupied by the senior hosts and the most honorable of the guests, with whom the old count’s house was full on the occasion of the approaching name day, Bolkonsky glanced several times at

Natasha, laughing and having fun among the other young half of society, kept asking himself: “What is she thinking about? Why is she so happy!”

In the evening, left alone in a new place, he could not fall asleep for a long time. He read, then put out the candle and lit it again. It was hot in the room with the shutters closed from the inside. He was annoyed with this stupid old man (as he called

Rostov), ​​who detained him, assuring him that the necessary papers were in the city and had not yet been delivered, was annoyed with himself for staying.

Prince Andrei stood up and went to the window to open it. As soon as he opened the shutters, moonlight, as if he had been on guard at the window for a long time waiting for it, rushed into the room. He opened the window. The night was fresh and stillly bright.

Just in front of the window there was a row of trimmed trees, black on one side and silver-lit on the other. Under the trees there was some kind of lush, wet, curly vegetation with silvery leaves and stems here and there.

Further behind the black trees there was some kind of roof shining with dew, to the right a large curly tree, with a bright white trunk and branches, and almost taller than it. full moon in a bright, almost starless spring sky. Prince Andrei leaned his elbows on the window and his eyes stopped at this sky.

Prince Andrei's room was on the middle floor; They also lived in the rooms above it and did not sleep. He heard a woman talking from above.

Just one more time,” said a female voice from above, which Prince Andrei now recognized.

When will you sleep? - answered another voice.

I won’t, I can’t sleep, what should I do! Well, last time...

Oh, how lovely! Well, now sleep, and that's the end.

She apparently leaned out of the window completely, because the rustling of her dress and even her breathing could be heard. Everything became silent and petrified, like the moon and its light and shadows.

Prince Andrei was also afraid to move, so as not to betray his involuntary presence.

Look what a beauty it is! Oh, how lovely! Wake up, Sonya,

Sonya reluctantly answered something.

No, look what a moon it is!... Oh, how lovely! Come here.

Darling, my dear, come here. Well, do you see? So I would squat down, like this, I would grab myself under the knees - tighter, as tight as possible - you have to strain. Like this!

Come on, you'll fall.

Oh, you're just ruining everything for me. Well, go, go.

Again everything fell silent, but Prince Andrei knew that she was still sitting here, he sometimes heard quiet movements, sometimes sighs.

Oh my god! My God! what is this! - she suddenly screamed.

Sleep like that! - and slammed the window.

“And they don’t care about my existence!” thought Prince Andrei as he listened to her conversation, for some reason expecting and fearing that she would say something about him. - “And there she is again! And as if on purpose!” he thought. In his soul suddenly arose such an unexpected confusion of young thoughts and hopes, contradicting his whole life, that he, feeling unable to understand his condition, immediately fell asleep.

The next day, having said goodbye to only one count, without waiting for the ladies to leave, Prince Andrei went home.

It was already the beginning of June when Prince Andrei, returning home, again drove into that birch grove in which this old, gnarled oak had struck him so strangely and memorably. The bells rang even more muffled in the forest than a month and a half ago; everything was full, shady and dense; and the young spruces, scattered throughout the forest, did not disturb the overall beauty and, imitating the general character, were tenderly green with fluffy young shoots.

It was hot all day, a thunderstorm was gathering somewhere, but only a small cloud splashed on the dust of the road and on the succulent leaves. The left side of the forest was dark, in shadow; the right one, wet and glossy, glistened in the sun, slightly swaying in the wind. Everything was in bloom; the nightingales chattered and rolled, now close, now far away.

“Yes, here, in this forest, there was this oak tree with which we agreed,” thought Prince Andrei. “Where is he,” Prince Andrei thought again, looking at the left side of the road and without knowing it, without recognizing him, he admired the oak tree he was looking for. The old oak tree, completely transformed, spread out like a tent of lush, dark greenery, swayed slightly, swaying slightly in the rays of the evening sun.

No gnarled fingers, no sores, no old mistrust and grief - nothing was visible. Juicy, young leaves broke through the tough, hundred-year-old bark without knots, so it was impossible to believe that this old man had produced them.

“Yes, this is the same oak tree,” thought Prince Andrei, and suddenly an unreasonable, spring feeling of joy and renewal came over him. All best moments his lives suddenly came back to him at the same time. And Austerlitz with the high sky, and the dead, reproachful face of his wife, and Pierre on the ferry, and the girl excited by the beauty of the night, and this night, and the moon - and all this suddenly came to his mind.

“No, life is not over at the age of 31, Prince Andrei suddenly finally and irrevocably decided. Not only do I know everything that is in me, it is necessary for everyone to know it: both Pierre and this girl who wanted to fly away to heaven, it is necessary for everyone to know me, so that my life does not go for me alone, so that they do not live so independently of my life, so that it is reflected on everyone and so that they all live with me!”

Returning from his trip, Prince Andrei decided to go to

Petersburg came up with different reasons this decision. A whole series of reasonable, logical arguments why he needed to go to St. Petersburg and even serve were ready at his service every minute. Even now he did not understand how he could ever doubt the need to take an active part in life, just as a month ago he did not understand how the thought of leaving the village could have occurred to him. It seemed clear to him that all his experiences in life would have been in vain and would have been meaningless if he had not applied them to action and taken an active part in life again. He did not even understand how, on the basis of the same poor reasonable arguments, it had previously been obvious that he would have humiliated himself if now, after his life lessons, he again believed in the possibility of being useful and in the possibility of happiness and love. Now my mind suggested something completely different. After this trip, Prince Andrei began to get bored in the village, his previous activities did not interest him, and often, sitting alone in his office, he got up, went to the mirror and looked at his face for a long time. Then he would turn away and look at the portrait of the deceased Lisa, who, with her curls whipped up a la grecque, tenderly and cheerfully looked at him from the golden frame. She no longer told her husband the previous scary words, she simply and cheerfully looked at him with curiosity. And Prince Andrei, clasping his hands back, walked around the room for a long time, now frowning, now smiling, reconsidering those unreasonable, inexpressible thoughts, secret as a crime, connected with Pierre, with fame, with the girl on the window, with the oak tree, with feminine beauty and love that changed his whole life. And at these moments, when someone came to him, he was especially dry, strictly decisive and especially unpleasantly logical.

“Mon cher,” the princess would say when entering at such a moment.

Marya, Nikolushka can’t go for a walk today: it’s very cold.

If it were warm, - at such moments the prince answered especially dryly

Andrey to his sister, he would go in just a shirt, but since it’s cold, you need to put warm clothes on him, which were invented for this purpose. That’s what follows from the fact that it’s cold, and not like staying at home when the child needs air,” he said with particular logic, as if punishing someone for all this secret, illogical happening in him, internal work. Princess Marya thought in these cases about how this mental work dries out men.

Prince Andrey arrived in St. Petersburg in August 1809. This was the time of the apogee of the glory of the young Speransky and the energy of the revolutions he carried out. IN

This very August, the sovereign, while riding in a carriage, fell out, injured his leg, and remained in Peterhof for three weeks, seeing daily and exclusively with Speransky. At this time, not only two so famous and alarming decrees were being prepared on the abolition of court ranks and on examinations for the ranks of collegiate assessors and state councilors, but also an entire state constitution, which was supposed to change the existing judicial, administrative and financial order of government of Russia from the state council to the volost board. Now those vague, liberal dreams with which Emperor Alexander ascended the throne were being realized and embodied, and which he sought to realize with the help of his assistants Chartorizhsky, Novosiltsev, Kochubey and Strogonov, whom he himself jokingly called comite du salut publique.

Now everyone has been replaced by Speransky on the civil side and Arakcheev on the military side. Prince Andrei, soon after his arrival, as a chamberlain, came to the court and left. The Tsar, having met him twice, did not honor him with a single word. It always seemed to Prince Andrei that he was antipathetic to the sovereign, that the sovereign was unpleasant about his face and his whole being. In the dry, distant look with which the sovereign looked at him, Prince Andrei found confirmation of this assumption even more than before. The courtiers explained to Prince Andrey the sovereign's lack of attention to him by the fact that His Majesty was dissatisfied with the fact that Bolkonsky had not served since 1805.

“I myself know how much we have no control over our likes and dislikes,” thought Prince Andrei, and therefore there is no need to think about personally presenting my note on the military regulations to the sovereign, but the matter will speak for itself.” He conveyed his note to the old field marshal, a friend of his father. The field marshal, having appointed an hour for him, received him kindly and promised to report to the sovereign. A few days later it was announced to Prince Andrey that he had to appear before the Minister of War, Count Arakcheev.

At nine o'clock in the morning, on the appointed day, Prince Andrei appeared in the reception room of Count Arakcheev.

Prince Andrei did not know Arakcheev personally and had never seen him, but everything he knew about him inspired him with little respect for this man.

"He is the minister of war, the confidant of the sovereign emperor; no one should care about him personal properties; “He is instructed to consider my note, therefore he alone can give it a go,” thought Prince Andrei, waiting among many important and unimportant persons in the reception room of Count Arakcheev.

Prince Andrei during his for the most part The adjutant service saw a lot of receptions of important persons and the different characters of these receptionists were very clear to him. Count Arakcheev had a very special character in his reception room. A sense of shame and humility was written on the unimportant faces waiting in line for an audience in Count Arakcheev’s reception room; on the more official faces one common feeling of awkwardness was expressed, hidden under the guise of swagger and ridicule of oneself, one’s position and one’s expected face. Some walked thoughtfully back and forth, others laughed in whispers, and Prince Andrei heard the sobriquet of Andreich’s strength and the words: “Uncle will ask,” referring to Count Arakcheev. One general (an important person), apparently offended that he had to wait so long, sat crossing his legs and smiling contemptuously at himself.

But as soon as the door opened, all the faces instantly expressed only one thing - fear. Prince Andrei asked the duty officer to report about himself another time, but they looked at him with ridicule and said that his turn would come in due time. After several persons were brought in and out by the adjutant from the minister's office, the officer who struck the prince was admitted into the terrible door

Andrey with his humiliated and frightened appearance. The officer's audience lasted a long time. Suddenly, peals of an unpleasant voice were heard from behind the door, and the pale officer, with trembling lips, came out of there, grabbed his head, and walked through the reception area.

Following this, Prince Andrei was led to the door, and the attendant said in a whisper: “to the right, to the window.”

Prince Andrei entered a modest, neat office and at the desk saw a forty-year-old man with a long waist, a long, short-cropped head and thick wrinkles, with frowning eyebrows over brown-green dull eyes and a drooping red nose. Arakcheev turned his head towards him, without looking at him.

What are you asking for? - asked Arakcheev.

“I’m not asking for anything, your Excellency,” the prince said quietly.

Andrey. Arakcheev's eyes turned to him.

“Sit down,” said Arakcheev, “Prince Bolkonsky?”

I am not asking for anything, but the Emperor has deigned to forward the note I submitted to your Excellency...

Please see, my dear, I read your note,” interrupted

Arakcheev, saying only the first words affectionately, again without looking him in the face and falling more and more into a grumpy and contemptuous tone. - Do you propose new military laws? There are many laws, and there is no one to enforce the old ones. Nowadays all laws are written; it is easier to write than to do.

I came by the will of the Sovereign Emperor to find out from your Excellency what course you intend to give to the submitted note? - Prince Andrey said politely.

I have added a resolution to your note and forwarded it to the committee. “I don’t approve,” said Arakcheev, getting up and taking out his desk paper.

Here! - he handed it to Prince Andrey.

On paper across it, in pencil, without capital letters, without spelling, without punctuation, it was written: “unreasonably composed as an imitation, copied from the French military regulations and from the military article without the need to retreat.”

Which committee was the note sent to? - asked Prince Andrei.

To the committee on the military regulations, and I submitted a proposal to enroll your honor as a member. Just no salary.

Prince Andrei smiled.

I don't want to.

Without a salary as a member,” Arakcheev repeated. - I have the honor. Hey, call me!

Who else? - he shouted, bowing to Prince Andrei.

While awaiting notification of his enrollment as a member of the committee, Prince Andrei renewed old acquaintances, especially with those persons who, he knew, were in force and could be needed by him. He now experienced in St. Petersburg a feeling similar to what he had experienced on the eve of the battle, when he was tormented by restless curiosity and irresistibly drawn to higher spheres, where the future was being prepared, on which the fate of millions depended. He felt from the anger of the old people, from the curiosity of the uninitiated, from the restraint of the initiated, from the haste and concern of everyone, from the countless number of committees, commissions, the existence of which he learned again every day, that now, in 1809, was being prepared here in St. Petersburg , something huge civil battle, whose commander-in-chief was a face unknown to him, mysterious and which seemed to him a genius -

Speransky. And the most vaguely known to him was the matter of transformation, and Speransky

The main figure began to interest him so passionately that the matter of military regulations very soon began to pass into a secondary place in his mind.

Prince Andrei was in one of the most favorable positions to be well received into all the most diverse and highest circles of the then St. Petersburg society. The Party of Reformers cordially received and lured him, firstly because he had a reputation for intelligence and great reading, and secondly because by his release of the peasants he had already made himself a reputation as a liberal. The party of dissatisfied old men, just like their father’s son, turned to him for sympathy, condemning the reforms. Women's society, the world, welcomed him cordially, because he was a groom, rich and noble, and almost a new face with the aura of a romantic story about his imaginary death and the tragic death of his wife. In addition, the general voice about him from everyone who knew him before was that he had changed a lot for the better in these five years, had softened and matured, that there was no former pretense, pride and mockery in him, and there was that calmness that purchased over the years. They started talking about him, they were interested in him and everyone wanted to see him.

The next day after visiting Count Arakcheev, Prince Andrei visited Count Kochubey in the evening. He told the count his meeting with Sila Andreich (Kochubey called Arakcheev that way with the same vague mockery that Prince Andrei noticed in the reception room of the Minister of War).

Mon cher, even in this matter you will not bypass Mikhail

Mikhailovich. C "est le grand faiseur. I'll tell him. He promised to come in the evening...

What does Speransky care about military regulations? - asked the prince

Kochubey smiled and shook his head, as if surprised at the naivety

Bolkonsky.

“We talked about you the other day,” Kochubey continued, “about your free cultivators...

Yes, it was you, prince, who let your men go? - said the old man from Catherine, turning contemptuously at Bolkonsky.

The small estate did not bring in any income,” Bolkonsky answered, so as not to irritate the old man in vain, trying to soften his act in front of him.

“Vous craignez d”etre en retard,” said the old man, looking at Kochubey.

“I don’t understand one thing,” the old man continued, “who will plow the land if you give them the freedom?” It is easy to write laws, but difficult to govern. It’s the same as now, I ask you, Count, who will be the head of the wards when everyone has to take exams?

Those who will pass the exams, I think,” answered Kochubey, crossing his legs and looking around.

Pryanichnikov works for me, a nice man, a golden man, and he is 60 years old, will he really go to the exams?...

Yes, this is difficult, since education is very little widespread, but ... - Count Kochubey did not finish, he stood up and, taking Prince Andrei by the hand, walked towards the entering tall, bald, blond man, about forty, with a large open forehead and an extraordinary , strange whiteness of an oblong face. The man who entered was wearing a blue tailcoat, a cross on his neck and a star on the left side of his chest. It was Speransky. Prince Andrei immediately recognized him and something trembled in his soul, as happens at important moments in life. Whether it was respect, envy, expectation - he did not know. Speransky's entire figure had a special type by which he could now be recognized. In no one from the society in which Prince Andrei lived did he see this calmness and self-confidence of awkward and stupid movements, in no one did he see such a firm and at the same time soft look of half-closed and somewhat moist eyes, did he not see such firmness of an insignificant smile , such a thin, even, quiet voice, and, most importantly, such a delicate whiteness of the face and especially the hands, somewhat wide, but unusually plump, tender and white. Prince Andrei had only seen such whiteness and tenderness of the face in soldiers who had spent a long time in the hospital. This was Speransky, Secretary of State, rapporteur of the sovereign and his companion in Erfurt, where he saw and spoke with Napoleon more than once.

Speransky did not move his eyes from one face to another, as is involuntarily done when entering a large society, and was in no hurry to speak. He spoke quietly, with the confidence that they would listen to him, and looked only at the face with whom he spoke.

Prince Andrei especially carefully watched every word and movement

Speransky. As it happens with people, especially with those who strictly judge their neighbors, Prince Andrei, meeting a new person, especially with one like

Speransky, whom he knew by reputation, always expected to find in him the complete perfection of human virtues.

Speransky told Kochubey that he regretted that he could not come earlier because he was detained in the palace. He did not say that the sovereign detained him. And Prince Andrei noticed this affectation of modesty. When Kochubey told him Prince Andrei, Speransky slowly turned his eyes to

Bolkonsky with the same smile and silently began to look at him.

I’m very glad to meet you, I’ve heard about you, like everyone else, -

he said.

Kochubey said a few words about the reception given to Bolkonsky

Arakcheev. Speransky smiled more.

The director of the commission of military regulations is my good friend - Mr.

Magnitsky,” he said, finishing every syllable and every word, “and if you wish, I can put you in touch with him.” (He paused at the point.) I

I hope that you will find in him sympathy and a desire to promote everything reasonable.

A circle immediately formed around Speransky, and the old man who spoke about his official, Pryanichnikov, also addressed a question to

Speransky.

Prince Andrei, without entering into conversation, observed all the movements of Speransky, this man, recently an insignificant seminarian and now in his hands, -

these white, plump hands that held the fate of Russia, as Bolkonsky thought.

Prince Andrei was struck by the extraordinary, contemptuous calm with which

Speransky answered the old man. He seemed to be addressing him with his condescending word from an immeasurable height. When the old man started talking too loudly,

Speransky smiled and said that he could not judge the benefits or disadvantages of what the sovereign wanted.

After talking for some time in a general circle, Speransky stood up and, going up to Prince Andrei, called him with him to the other end of the room. It was clear that he considered it necessary to deal with Bolkonsky.

“I didn’t have time to talk to you, prince, in the midst of the animated conversation in which this venerable old man was involved,” he said, smiling meekly and contemptuously, and with this smile, as if admitting that he, together with Prince Andrei, understands the insignificance of those people with whom he just spoke. This appeal flattered Prince Andrei. - I've known you for a long time:

firstly, in your case about your peasants, this is our first example, which would so much like more followers; and secondly, because you are one of those chamberlains who did not consider themselves offended by the new decree on court ranks, which is causing such talk and gossip.

Yes,” said Prince Andrei, “my father did not want me to use this right; I started my service from the lower ranks.

Your father, a man of the old century, obviously stands above our contemporaries, who so condemn this measure, which restores only natural justice.

I think, however, that there is a basis in these condemnations... - said Prince Andrei, trying to fight the influence of Speransky, which he was beginning to feel. It was unpleasant for him to agree with him on everything: he wanted to contradict. Prince Andrei, who usually spoke easily and well, now felt difficulty in expressing himself when speaking with Speransky. He was too busy observing the personality of the famous person.

There may be a basis for personal ambition,” Speransky quietly added his word.

“Partly for the state,” said Prince Andrei.

“What do you mean?...” said Speransky, quietly lowering his eyes.

“I am an admirer of Montesquieu,” said Prince Andrei. - And his idea that le principe des monarchies est l "honneur, me parait incontestable.

Certains droits et privileges de la noblesse me paraissent etre des moyens de soutenir ce sentiment.

The smile disappeared from Speransky’s white face and his face gained a lot from this. He probably found Prince Andrei’s idea interesting.

Si vous envisagez la question sous ce point de vue, -

he began, pronouncing French with obvious difficulty and speaking even more slowly than in Russian, but completely calmly. He said that honor, l "honneur, cannot be supported by advantages harmful to the course of service, that honor, l "honneur, is either: the negative concept of not doing reprehensible acts, or famous source competitions to gain approval and awards to express it.

His arguments were concise, simple and clear.

The institution that supports this honor, the source of competition, is an institution similar to the Legion d'honneur of the great emperor

Napoleon, not harmful, but promoting the success of the service, and not class or court advantage.

“I don’t argue, but it cannot be denied that the court advantage achieved the same goal,” said Prince Andrei: “every courtier considers himself obliged to bear his position with dignity.”

But you didn’t want to use it, prince,” said Speransky, smiling, showing that he, awkward for his interlocutor, wanted to end the argument with courtesy. “If you do me the honor of welcoming me on Wednesday,” he added, “then I, after talking with Magnitsky, will tell you what may interest you, and in addition I will have the pleasure of talking with you in more detail.” - He closed his eyes, bowed, and a la francaise, without saying goodbye, trying to be unnoticed, left the hall.

During the first time of his stay in St. Petersburg, Prince Andrei felt his entire mindset, developed in his solitary life, completely obscured by those petty worries that gripped him in St. Petersburg.

In the evening, returning home, he wrote down 4 or 5 in a memory book

necessary visits or rendez-vous at designated times.

The mechanism of life, the order of the day in such a way as to be everywhere on time, took up a large share of the energy of life itself. He did nothing, didn’t even think about anything and didn’t have time to think, but only spoke and successfully said what he had previously thought about in the village.

He sometimes noticed with displeasure that he happened to repeat the same thing on the same day, in different societies. But he was so busy all day that he didn’t have time to think about the fact that he didn’t think anything.

Speransky, both on his first meeting with him at Kochubey’s, and then in the middle of the house, where Speransky, face to face, having received Bolkonsky, spoke with him for a long time and trustingly, made a strong impression on Prince Andrei.

Prince Andrei considered such a huge number of people to be despicable and insignificant creatures, so he wanted to find in another the living ideal of the perfection to which he strived, that he easily believed that in

In Speransky he found this ideal of a completely reasonable and virtuous person.

If Speransky had been from the same society from which Prince Andrei was, the same upbringing and moral habits, then Bolkonsky would soon have found his weak, human, non-heroic sides, but now this logical mindset, strange to him, inspired him with respect all the more that he did not quite understand it. In addition, Speransky, because he appreciated the prince’s abilities

Andrei, or because he found it necessary to acquire it for himself, Speransky flirted with Prince Andrei with his impartial, calm mind and flattered Prince Andrei with that subtle flattery, combined with arrogance, which consists in the tacit recognition of his interlocutor with himself together the only person, capable of understanding all the stupidity of everyone else, and the rationality and depth of their thoughts.

During their long conversation on Wednesday evening, Speransky said more than once: “We look at everything that comes out of general level ingrained habit..." or with a smile: "But we want the wolves to be fed and the sheep to be safe..." or: "They cannot understand this..." and all with an expression that said: "We : you and I, we understand what they are and who we are."

This first, long conversation with Speransky only strengthened in Prince Andrei the feeling with which he saw Speransky for the first time. He saw in him a reasonable, strictly-minded, enormously intelligent man who, with energy and perseverance, achieved power and used it only for the good of Russia. Speransky, in the eyes of Prince Andrei, was precisely that person who rationally explains all the phenomena of life, recognizes as valid only what is reasonable, and knows how to apply to everything the standard of rationality, which he himself so wanted to be. Everything seemed so simple and clear in Speransky’s presentation that Prince Andrei involuntarily agreed with him in everything. If he objected and argued, it was only because he deliberately wanted to be independent and not completely submit to Speransky’s opinions. Everything was so, everything was good, but one thing confused the prince

Andrey: it was a cold, mirror-like gaze that did not let you into your soul

Speransky, and his white, tender hand, which the prince involuntarily looked at

Andrey, how people usually look at the hands of people in power. For some reason, this mirror look and gentle hand irritated Prince Andrei. Prince Andrei was unpleasantly struck by the too much contempt for people that he noticed in Speransky, and the variety of methods in the evidence that he cited to support his opinions. He used all possible instruments of thought, excluding comparisons, and too boldly, as it seemed to Prince Andrei, he moved from one to another. Either he became a practical activist and condemned dreamers, then he became a satirist and ironically laughed at his opponents, then he became strictly logical, then he suddenly rose into the realm of metaphysics. (He used this last tool of evidence especially often.) He transferred the question to metaphysical heights, moved into the definitions of space, time, thought, and, making refutations from there, again descended to the ground of dispute.

In general, the main feature of Speransky’s mind that struck Prince Andrei was an undoubted, unshakable belief in the power and legitimacy of the mind. It was clear that it had never occurred to Speransky that this was so common for a prince.

Andrei thought that it is still impossible to express everything that you think, and the doubt never came that everything that I think and everything that I believe in is not nonsense? And it was this special mindset of Speransky that most of all attracted Prince Andrei.

At the first time of his acquaintance with Speransky, Prince Andrei had a feeling for him passionate feeling admiration similar to the one he once felt for

Bonaparte. The fact that Speransky was the son of a priest, whom stupid people could, as many did, despise him as a party boy and priest, forced Prince Andrei to be especially careful with his feelings for Speransky, and unconsciously strengthen it in himself.

On that first evening that Bolkonsky spent with him, talking about the commission for drafting laws, Speransky ironically told Prince Andrei that the commission of laws had existed for 150 years, cost millions and had done nothing, that Rosenkampf had stuck labels on all articles comparative law. - And that’s all for which the state paid millions! -

he said.

We want to give new judiciary The Senate, but we have no laws.

That’s why it’s a sin not to serve people like you, prince, now.

Prince Andrei said that for this it is necessary legal education which he doesn't have.

Yes, no one has it, so what do you want? This is circulus viciosus,

From which you have to force yourself out.

A week later, Prince Andrei was a member of the commission for drawing up military regulations, and, which he did not expect, the head of the department of the commission for drawing up carriages. At Speransky’s request, he took the first part of the civil code being compiled and, with the help of Code Napoleon and Justiniani,

Worked on compiling the department: Rights of individuals.

Two years ago, in 1808, having returned to St. Petersburg from his trip to the estates, Pierre unwittingly became the head of St. Petersburg Freemasonry. He set up dining rooms and funeral lodges, recruited new members, took care of the unification of various lodges and the acquisition of authentic acts. He gave his money for the construction of temples and replenished, as much as he could, alms collections, for which most members were stingy and careless. He almost alone, at his own expense, supported the home of the poor, established by the order in St. Petersburg. Meanwhile, his life went on as before, with the same hobbies and debauchery. He loved to dine and drink well, and although he considered it immoral and degrading, he could not refrain from enjoying the bachelor societies in which he participated.

In the midst of his studies and hobbies, Pierre, however, after a year, began to feel how the soil of Freemasonry on which he stood was moving away from under his feet, the more firmly he tried to stand on it. At the same time, he felt that the deeper the soil on which he stood went under his feet, the more involuntarily he was connected with it. When he began Freemasonry, he experienced the feeling of a man trustingly placing his foot on the flat surface of a swamp. Putting his foot down, he fell through. In order to be completely sure of the solidity of the soil on which he stood, he planted his other foot and sank even further, got stuck and involuntarily walked knee-deep in the swamp.

Joseph Alekseevich was not in St. Petersburg. (He is in Lately removed himself from the affairs of the St. Petersburg lodges and lived constantly in Moscow.) All the brothers, members of the lodges, were people familiar to Pierre in life and it was difficult for him to see in them only brothers in masonry, and not Prince B., not Ivan Vasilyevich D., whom he I knew most of my life as weak and insignificant people. From under the Masonic aprons and signs, he saw on them the uniforms and crosses that they sought in life. Often, collecting alms and counting 20 - 30 rubles recorded for the parish, and mostly in debt from ten members, half of whom were as rich as he was, Pierre recalled the Masonic oath that each brother promises to give all his property for one's neighbor; and doubts arose in his soul, which he tried not to dwell on.

He divided all the brothers he knew into four categories. TO

In the first category he ranked the brothers who do not take an active part either in the affairs of lodges or in human affairs, but are occupied exclusively with the mysteries of the science of the order, occupied with questions about the triple name of God, or about the three principles of things, sulfur, mercury and salt, or about the meaning of the square and all the figures of Solomon's temple. Pierre respected this category of Freemason brothers, to which mostly old brothers belonged, and Joseph Alekseevich himself, in Pierre's opinion, but did not share their interests. His heart was not in the mystical side of Freemasonry.

In the second category, Pierre included himself and his brothers like him, those who are searching, hesitating, who have not yet found a direct and understandable path in Freemasonry, but hoping to find it.

He included brothers in the third category (there were the most big number), who do not see anything in Freemasonry other than the external form and ritual and value the strict execution of this external form, without caring about its content and meaning. Such were Vilarsky and even the great master of the main lodge.

Finally, the fourth category also included a large number of brothers, especially those who have recently joined the brotherhood. These were people, according to Pierre’s observations, who did not believe in anything, did not want anything, and who entered Freemasonry only to get closer to young brothers, rich and strong in connections and nobility, of whom there were quite a lot in the lodge.

Pierre began to feel dissatisfied with his activities.

Freemasonry, at least the Freemasonry that he knew here, sometimes seemed to him to be based on appearance alone. He did not even think of doubting Freemasonry itself, but he suspected that Russian Freemasonry had taken the wrong path and deviated from its source. And therefore, at the end of the year, Pierre went abroad to initiate himself into the highest secrets of the order.

In the summer of 1809, Pierre returned to St. Petersburg. According to the correspondence of our Masons with foreign ones, it was known that Bezukhy managed to gain the trust of many high-ranking officials abroad, penetrated many secrets, was elevated to the highest degree and carries with him a lot for common good masonry in Russia. The St. Petersburg Masons all came to him, fawning over him, and it seemed to everyone that he was hiding something and preparing something.

A solemn meeting of the 2nd degree lodge was scheduled, in which

Pierre promised to convey what he had to the St. Petersburg brothers from senior managers orders The meeting was full. After the usual rituals, Pierre stood up and began his speech.

“Dear brothers,” he began, blushing and stammering, and holding the written speech in his hand. - It is not enough to observe our sacraments in the silence of the lodge - we must act... act. We are in a state of sleep, and we need to act. - Pierre took his notebook and began to read.

"For distribution pure truth and to achieve the triumph of virtue, he read, we must cleanse people from prejudices, spread rules in accordance with the spirit of the times, take upon ourselves the education of youth, unite with inextricable ties with the smartest people, boldly and together prudently overcome superstition, unbelief and stupidity, to form from those devoted to us people bound together by unity of purpose and having power and strength.

“To achieve this goal, we must give virtue an advantage over vice, we must try to ensure that an honest person receives an eternal reward for his virtues in this world. But in these great intentions, we are hindered by many things - the current political institutions. What to do in this state of affairs Should we favor revolutions, overthrow everything, drive out force by force?... No, we are very far from that. Any violent reform is worthy of condemnation, because it will not correct the evil in the least as long as people remain as they are, and because wisdom has no need for violence.

“The entire plan of the order must be based on the formation of strong, virtuous people and bound by the unity of conviction, a conviction consisting in everywhere and with all their might to persecute vice and stupidity and to patronize talents and virtue: to extract worthy people from the dust, joining them to our brotherhood. Then only our order will have the power to insensitively tie the hands of the patrons of disorder and govern them so that they do not notice it. In a word, it is necessary to establish a universal ruling form of government that would spread over the whole world without destroying civil bonds, and under which all other governments could continue in their usual order and do everything except that which interferes with the great goal of our order, that is, the triumph of virtue over vice. This goal was assumed by Christianity itself. It taught people to be wise and kind, and for your own benefit, follow the example and instructions of the best and wisest people.

“Then, when everything was immersed in darkness, preaching alone was, of course, enough: the news of the truth gave it special power, but now we need much stronger means. Now it is necessary for a person, guided by his feelings, to find sensual delights in virtue.

Passions cannot be eradicated; we must only try to direct them to a noble goal, and therefore it is necessary that everyone can satisfy their passions within the limits of virtue, and that our order provides the means for this.

“As soon as we have a certain number of worthy people in each state, each of them will again form two others, and they will all be closely united with each other - then everything will be possible for the order, which has already managed to secretly do a lot for the good of mankind.”

This speech made not only a strong impression, but also excitement in the box.

The majority of the brothers, who saw in this speech the dangerous plans of Illuminism, accepted his speech with a coldness that surprised Pierre. The Grand Master began to object to Pierre. Pierre began to develop his thoughts with greater and greater fervor.

There has not been such a stormy meeting for a long time. Parties formed: some accused

Pierre, condemning him for Illuminism; others supported him. Pierre was struck for the first time at this meeting by the infinite variety of human minds, which makes it so that no truth is presented in the same way to two people. Even those of the members who seemed to be on his side understood him in their own way, with restrictions, changes that he could not agree to, since Pierre’s main need was precisely to convey his thought to another exactly as he himself understood her.

At the end of the meeting, the great master, with hostility and irony, made a remark to Bezukhoy about his ardor and that it was not only the love of virtue, but also the passion for struggle that guided him in the dispute. Pierre did not answer him and briefly asked whether his proposal would be accepted. He was told that no, and Pierre, without waiting for the usual formalities, left the box and went home.

The melancholy that he was so afraid of came over Pierre again. For three days after delivering his speech in the box, he lay at home on the sofa, not receiving anyone and not going anywhere.

At this time, he received a letter from his wife, who begged him for a date, wrote about her sadness for him and about her desire to devote her whole life to him.

At the end of the letter, she informed him that one of these days she would come to St. Petersburg from abroad.

Following the letter, one of the Masonic brothers, less respected by him, burst into Pierre’s seclusion and, turning the conversation to marital relations

Pierre, in the form of fraternal advice, expressed to him the idea that his severity towards his wife was unfair, and that Pierre was deviating from the first rules of a Freemason, not forgiving the penitent.

At the same time, his mother-in-law, the wife of Prince Vasily, sent for him, begging him to visit her for at least a few minutes to negotiate a very important matter. Pierre saw that there was a conspiracy against him, that they wanted to unite him with his wife, and this was not even unpleasant to him in the state in which he was. He didn’t care: Pierre didn’t consider anything in life to be a matter of business. great importance, and under the influence of the melancholy that now took possession of him, he did not value either his freedom or his persistence in punishing his wife.

“No one is right, no one is to blame, therefore she is not to blame,” he thought. - If Pierre did not immediately express consent to unite with his wife, it was only because in the state of melancholy in which he was, he was not able to do anything. If his wife had come to him, he would not have sent her away now. Compared to what occupied Pierre, wasn’t it all the same, to live or not to live with his wife?

Without answering anything to either his wife or his mother-in-law, Pierre got ready for the road late one evening and left for Moscow to see Joseph Alekseevich. This is what Pierre wrote in his diary.

I just arrived from my benefactor, and I hasten to write down everything that I experienced. Joseph Alekseevich lives poorly and has been suffering from a painful bladder disease for three years. No one ever heard a groan or a word of murmur from him. From morning until late at night, except for the hours in which he eats the simplest food, he works on science. He received me graciously and seated me on the bed on which he was lying; I made him a sign of the knights of the East and Jerusalem, he answered me in the same way, and with a gentle smile asked me about what I had learned and acquired in the Prussian and Scottish lodges. I told him everything as best I could, conveying the reasons that I offered in our St. Petersburg box and told him about the bad reception given to me and about the break that had occurred between me and the brothers. Joseph Alekseevich, having paused for a while and thought, gave me his view of all this, which instantly illuminated for me everything that had happened and the entire future path ahead of me. He surprised me by asking if I remembered what the threefold purpose of the order was: 1) to preserve and learn the sacrament; 2)

in purifying and correcting oneself to perceive it and 3) in correcting the human race through the desire for such purification. What is the most important and first goal of these three? Of course, your own correction and cleansing. This is the only goal we can always strive for, regardless of all circumstances. But at the same time, this goal requires the most work from us, and therefore, misled by pride, we, missing this goal, either take on the sacrament, which we are unworthy to receive due to our uncleanness, or we take on the correction of the human race, when we are out of ourselves. We are an example of abomination and depravity. Illuminism is not a pure doctrine precisely because it is carried away by social activities and is filled with pride. On this basis, Joseph Alekseevich condemned my speech and all my activities. I

I agreed with him in the depths of my soul. On the occasion of our conversation about my family affairs, he told me: - Main Responsibility the true Mason, as I have told you, consists in perfecting himself. But often we think that by removing all the difficulties of our life from ourselves, we will more quickly achieve this goal; on the contrary, my sir, he told me, only in the midst of secular unrest can we achieve three main goals: 1) self-knowledge, for a person can know himself only through comparison, 2) improvement, which is achieved only through struggle, and 3) to achieve cardinal virtue- love of death. Only the vicissitudes of life can show us its futility and can contribute to our innate love of death or rebirth to a new life. These words are all the more remarkable because Joseph Alekseevich, despite his severe physical suffering, is never burdened by life, but loves death, to which he, despite all the purity and height of his inner man, doesn’t feel ready enough yet. Then the benefactor explained to me the full meaning of the great square of the universe and pointed out that the triple and seventh numbers are the basis of everything. He advised me not to distance myself from communication with the St. Petersburg brothers and, occupying only 2nd degree positions in the lodge, try, distracting the brothers from the hobbies of pride, to turn them to the true path of self-knowledge and improvement. In addition, for himself, he personally advised me, first of all, to take care of myself, and for this purpose he gave me a notebook, the same one in which I write and will henceforth write down all my actions.”

“I live with my wife again. My mother-in-law came to me in tears and said that

Helen is here and that she begs me to listen to her, that she is innocent, that she is unhappy with my abandonment, and much more. I knew that if I only allowed myself to see her, I would no longer be able to refuse her her desire. IN

In my doubt, I did not know whose help and advice to resort to. If the benefactor was here, he would tell me. I retired to my room and read the letters

Joseph Alekseevich, remembered my conversations with him, and from everything I concluded that I should not refuse anyone who asks and should give a helping hand to everyone, especially to a person so connected with me, and I should bear my cross. But if I forgave her for the sake of virtue, then let my union with her have one spiritual goal. So I decided and wrote to Joseph Alekseevich. I told my wife that I ask her to forget everything old, I ask her to forgive me for what I might have been guilty of before her, but that I had nothing to forgive her. I was happy to tell her this. Let her not know how hard it was for me to see her again.

I settled down in the upper chambers of a large house and feel a happy feeling of renewal.”

As always, and then high society, joining together at court and at large balls, was divided into several circles, each with its own shade. Among them, the most extensive was the circle of the French, the Napoleonic Alliance - Count Rumyantsev and Caulaincourt. In this circle, Helen took one of the most prominent places as soon as she and her husband settled in St. Petersburg.

It was attended by gentlemen of the French embassy and a large number of people, known for their intelligence and courtesy, who belonged to this trend.

Helen was in Erfurt during the famous meeting of the emperors, and from there she brought these connections with all the Napoleonic sights of Europe.

In Erfurt it was a brilliant success. Napoleon himself, noticing her in the theater, said about her: “C”est un superbe animal.” Her success as a beautiful and elegant woman did not surprise Pierre, because over the years she became even more beautiful than before. But what surprised him was that during these two years his wife managed to acquire a reputation for herself

"d"une femme charmante, aussi spirituelle, que belle".

The famous prince de Ligne wrote eight-page letters to her.

Bilibin saved his mots to say them for the first time in front of Countess Bezukhova. To be received in the salon of Countess Bezukhova was considered a diploma of intelligence; young people read Helen's books before the evening so that they would have something to talk about in her salon, and the secretaries of the embassy, ​​and even envoys, confided diplomatic secrets to her, so Helen had strength in some way.

Pierre, who knew that she was very stupid, sometimes attended her evenings and dinners, where politics, poetry and philosophy were discussed, with a strange feeling of bewilderment and fear. At these evenings he experienced a feeling similar to that which a magician should experience, expecting each time that his deception was about to be revealed. But is it because stupidity was precisely what was needed to run such a salon, or because the deceived themselves found pleasure in this deception, the deception was not discovered, and the reputation of d'une femme charmante et spirituelle was so unshakably established for Elena Vasilyevna Bezukhova that she could speak the greatest vulgarities and stupidities, and yet everyone admired her every word and looked for in it deep meaning, which she herself did not even suspect.

Pierre was exactly the husband needed for this brilliant, secular woman. He was that absent-minded eccentric, the husband of the grand seigneur,

It does not disturb anyone and not only does not spoil the general impression of the high tone of the living room, but, in its contrast to the grace and tact of the wife, serves as an advantageous background for her. During these two years, Pierre, as a result of his constant concentrated occupation with immaterial interests and sincere contempt for everything else, acquired for himself in the company of his wife, who was not interested in him, that tone of indifference, carelessness and benevolence towards everyone, which is not acquired artificially and which for this reason inspires an involuntary respect.

He entered his wife's living room as if he were entering a theatre, he knew everyone, was equally happy with everyone and was equally indifferent to everyone. Sometimes he entered into a conversation that interested him, and then, without consideration of whether les messieurs de l'ambassade were there or not, he muttered his opinions, which were sometimes completely out of tune with the tone of the moment. But the opinion about the eccentric husband de la femme la plus distinguee de Petersbourg

It was already so established that no one accepted his antics au serux.

Among the many young people who visited Helen’s house every day, Boris

Drubetskoy, already very successful in the service, was after Helen’s return from

Erfurt, the closest person in the Bezukhov house. Helen called him mon page and treated him like a child. Her smile towards him was the same as towards everyone else, but sometimes Pierre was unpleasant to see this smile. Boris treated Pierre with special, dignified and sad respect. This shade of respect also worried Pierre. Pierre suffered so painfully three years ago from an insult inflicted on him by his wife that now he saved himself from the possibility of such an insult, firstly by the fact that he was not his wife’s husband, and secondly by the fact that he did not allow himself to suspect.

No, now that she has become a bas bleu, she has abandoned her former hobbies forever, he told himself. “There was no example of bas bleu having passions of the heart,” he repeated to himself, from nowhere, a rule he had extracted from nowhere, which he undoubtedly believed. But, strangely, the presence of Boris in his wife’s living room (and he was almost constantly) had a physical effect on Pierre: it bound all his limbs, destroyed unconsciousness and freedom of his movements.

Such a strange antipathy, thought Pierre, but before I even really liked him.

In the eyes of the world, Pierre was a great gentleman, a somewhat blind and funny husband famous wife, a smart eccentric who does nothing, but also does not harm anyone, a nice and kind fellow. During all this time, a complex and difficult work of internal development took place in Pierre’s soul, which revealed a lot to him and led him to many spiritual doubts and joys.

Leo Tolstoy - War and Peace. 16 - Volume 2, read the text

See also Tolstoy Lev - Prose (stories, poems, novels...):

War and Peace. 17 - Volume 2
X. He continued his diary, and this is what he wrote in it during this time: 2...

War and Peace. 18 - Volume 2
XVIII. The next day, Prince Andrei remembered yesterday's ball, but not until...

(Based on the lines: L.N. Tolstoy. War and Peace. Volume 2, part three, chapter I, III.)

At the edge of the road stood an oak tree that had grown to the sky.
Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest,
he was ten times thicker and many times stronger,
and twice as tall as each birch tree.
It was a huge oak tree, double girth, that had stood here for centuries,
with broken off bitches that have been seen for a long time
and with broken bark overgrown with old sores,
with their huge, clumsy, asymmetrically splayed,
with clumsy hands and fingers -
before us
he is an old, angry and disdainful freak
stood between smiling birches.
Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring
and did not want to see either the sun or spring.
“Spring, and love, and happiness!” - as if this oak tree was saying, -
“and how can you not get tired of the same
stupid and senseless deception.
And everything is a deception, everything is the same!
There is no spring, no sun, no happiness in the worlds of centuries.
Look, there are crushed dead spruce trees sitting,
always alone - that's the way the world is.
And there I spread out my broken, tattered fingers,
wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides;
As I grew up, I still stand,
and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”...
...There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still frowned at them,
stood motionless, ugly and stubborn among them.
“Yes, he is right, this oak tree that sees the heavens is a thousand times right...
let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, listening to someone’s voices,
that life is not always doomed,
and we know life - our life is over!
...
It was already the beginning of June...
The bells rang even more muffled in the forest than a month and a half ago;
everything was full, shady and dense; and it was green like a huge garden;
and the young spruce trees scattered throughout the forest did not disturb the overall beauty created over the centuries,
and, counterfeiting the general character,
softly green with fluffy young shoots.
It was hot all day, a thunderstorm was brewing somewhere,
but only a small cloud splashed on the dust of the road
and on the succulent leaves where the birch showed off.
The left side of the forest was dark, in shadow;
the right one - wet, glossy - glistened in the Sun, slightly swaying in the wind.
Everything was in bloom!
The nightingales chattered and rolled, now close, now far, rejoicing in the summer!
“Yes, here in this forest there was this oak tree that we agreed with.”
“Where is he?” I thought again, looking at the left side of the road,
and, without knowing it, without recognizing him, what he was like during spring -
I admired that oak tree whose branches were so beautiful and dear to my heart.
An old oak tree, completely transformed,
spread out like a tent of lush dark greenery,
thrilled, slightly swaying in the rays of the evening Sun, beautifully.
No gnarled fingers, no sores, no old mistrust and grief -
nothing was visible.
Through the tough, hundred-year-old bark, juicy, young leaves broke through without knots -
so that it was impossible to believe that this old man had produced them - the enchantment of being.
“Yes, this is the same oak tree,” I thought immediately – a miracle, a phenomenon!
And I found a causeless, spring feeling of joy and renewal.
All the best moments of his life suddenly came back to him at the same time!.. Life is not doomed!
...No, life is not over!

–––––––––
L.N. Tolstoy. War and Peace. Volume 2, part three, chapter I, III, (excerpt).

There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, two girths wide, with branches that had been broken off for a long time and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge, clumsy, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled hands and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.
“Spring, and love, and happiness!” - as if this oak tree was saying, “and how can you not get tired of the same stupid and senseless deception. Everything is the same, and everything is a lie! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look there, the crushed dead spruce trees are sitting, always alone, and there I am, spreading out my broken, skinned fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides; As we grew up, I still stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”
Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn.
“Yes, he is right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei, let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life, our life is over! A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think over his whole life again, and came to the same old reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he did not need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything. ..
...
It was already the beginning of June when Prince Andrei, returning home, again drove into that birch grove in which this old, gnarled oak had struck him so strangely and memorably. The bells rang even more muffled in the forest than a month and a half ago; everything was full, shady and dense; and the young spruces, scattered throughout the forest, did not disturb the overall beauty and, imitating the general character, were tenderly green with fluffy young shoots.
It was hot all day, a thunderstorm was gathering somewhere, but only a small cloud splashed on the dust of the road and on the succulent leaves. The left side of the forest was dark, in shadow; the right one, wet and glossy, glistened in the sun, slightly swaying in the wind. Everything was in bloom; the nightingales chattered and rolled, now close, now far away.
“Yes, here, in this forest, there was this oak tree with which we agreed,” thought Prince Andrei. “Where is he,” Prince Andrei thought again, looking at the left side of the road and without knowing it, without recognizing him, he admired the oak tree that he was looking for. The old oak tree, completely transformed, spread out like a tent of lush, dark greenery, swayed slightly, swaying slightly in the rays of the evening sun. No gnarled fingers, no sores, no old mistrust and grief - nothing was visible. Juicy, young leaves broke through the tough, hundred-year-old bark without knots, so it was impossible to believe that this old man had produced them. “Yes, this is that same oak tree,” thought Prince Andrei, and suddenly an unreasonable, spring feeling of joy and renewal came over him. All the best moments of his life suddenly came back to him at the same time.
...No, life is not over.

(photo - painting by I.I. Shishkin)

There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker, and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, twice the girth, with branches that had apparently been broken off for a long time and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge, clumsily, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled arms and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.
“Spring, and love, and happiness! - it was as if this oak tree was speaking. - And how can you not get tired of the same stupid, senseless deception! Everything is the same, and everything is a lie! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look, there are the crushed dead spruce trees sitting, always the same, and there I am, spreading out my broken, skinned fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides. As I grew up, I still stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”
Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn.
“Yes, he is right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei, “let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life, our life is over!” A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think about his whole life again and came to the same old, reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he didn’t need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything. . On the side of the road stood an oak. Probably ten times as old birches that formed the forest, he was ten times as thick and twice as each birch. It was a huge, two girth oak, with broken long ago, it is clear and females with broken bark overgrown old sores. With its huge clumsy asymmetrically splayed gnarled hands and fingers, he was old, angry and scornful monster stood between the smiling birches. Only he did not want to obey the charm of spring and did not want to see no spring, no sun.
"Spring, love and happiness! - As if to say that oak. - And it does not bother you all the same stupid meaningless hype! All the same, and all the hype! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Vaughn see, sit crushed dead spruce, always the same, and there I spread out my broken off, skinned fingers, where neither they grew - from the back, from the sides. As grown - so I stand, and I do not believe your hopes and deceptions. "
Prince Andrew looked several times at this oak, passing through the woods, as if he were waiting for something from him. Flowers and grass were under an oak tree, but he was still frowning, still, ugly and hard, stood among them.
"Yes, he"s right, a thousand times right this oak - thought Prince Andrew - let other young again lend themselves to this deception, and we know life - our life is over!" A whole new range of bad thoughts, but sadly - pleasing in connection with the oak originated in the soul of Prince Andrew. During this journey he seemed once again thought about all his life and came to the same still, soothing and hopelessness, the conclusion that it was nothing to start it is not necessary that he should live out of their lives without doing evil, not worrying and wanting nothing.

I

In 1808, Emperor Alexander traveled to Erfurt for a new meeting with Emperor Napoleon, and in high society in St. Petersburg there was a lot of talk about the greatness of this solemn meeting. In 1809, the closeness of the two rulers of the world, as Napoleon and Alexander were called, reached the point that when Napoleon declared war on Austria that year, the Russian corps went abroad to assist their former enemy, Bonaparte, against their former ally, the Austrian Emperor, to the point that in high society they talked about the possibility of a marriage between Napoleon and one of the sisters of Emperor Alexander. But, in addition to external political considerations, at this time the attention of Russian society was especially keenly drawn to the internal transformations that were being carried out at that time in all parts of public administration. Life, meanwhile, the real life of people with their essential interests of health, illness, work, rest, with their interests of thought, science, poetry, music, love, friendship, hatred, passions, went on, as always, independently and without political affinity or enmity with Napoleon Bonaparte and beyond all possible transformations. Prince Andrei lived in the village without a break for two years. All those enterprises on estates that Pierre started and did not bring to any result, constantly moving from one thing to another, all these enterprises, without expressing them to anyone and without noticeable labor, were carried out by Prince Andrei. He had, to a high degree, that practical tenacity that Pierre lacked, which, without scope or effort on his part, set things in motion. One of his estates of three hundred peasant souls was transferred to free cultivators (this was one of the first examples in Russia); in others, corvee was replaced by quitrent. In Bogucharovo, a learned grandmother was written out to his account to help mothers in labor, and for a salary the priest taught the children of peasants and courtyard servants to read and write. Prince Andrei spent one half of his time in Bald Mountains with his father and son, who was still with the nannies; the other half of the time in the Bogucharov monastery, as his father called his village. Despite the indifference he showed Pierre to all external events of the world, he diligently followed them, received many books and, to his surprise, noticed when fresh people came to him or his father from St. Petersburg, from the very whirlpool of life, that these people in knowledge of everything that is happening in foreign and domestic policy, they are far behind him, who sits in the village all the time. In addition to classes on names, in addition to general reading of a wide variety of books, Prince Andrei was at this time engaged in a critical analysis of our last two unfortunate campaigns and drawing up a project to change our military regulations and regulations. In the spring of 1809, Prince Andrei went to the Ryazan estates of his son, of whom he was the guardian. Warmed by the spring sun, he sat in the stroller, looking at the first grass, the first birch leaves and the first clouds of white spring clouds scattering across the bright blue sky. He didn’t think about anything, but looked around cheerfully and meaninglessly. We passed the carriage on which he had spoken with Pierre a year ago. We drove through a dirty village, threshing floors, greenery, a descent with remaining snow near the bridge, an ascent through washed-out clay, stripes of stubble and green bushes here and there, and entered a birch forest on both sides of the road. It was almost hot in the forest; you couldn’t hear the wind. The birch, all covered with green sticky leaves, did not move, and from under last year’s leaves, lifting them, the first grass and purple flowers crawled out, turning green. The small spruce trees scattered here and there throughout the birch forest, with their coarse, eternal greenness, were an unpleasant reminder of winter. The horses snorted as they entered the forest and began to fog up. Lackey Peter said something to the coachman, the coachman answered in the affirmative. But, apparently, the coachman’s sympathy was not enough for Peter: he turned on the box to the master. - Your Excellency, how easy it is! - he said, smiling respectfully.- What? - Easy, your Excellency. "What he says? - thought Prince Andrei. “Yes, that’s right about spring,” he thought, looking around. - And then, everything is already green... how soon! And the birch, and the bird cherry, and the alder are already starting... But the oak is unnoticeable. Yes, here it is, the oak tree.” There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker, and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, twice the girth, with branches that had apparently been broken off for a long time and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge, clumsily, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled arms and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun. “Spring, and love, and happiness! - it was as if this oak tree was speaking. - And how can you not get tired of the same stupid, senseless deception! Everything is the same, and everything is a lie! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look, there are the crushed dead spruce trees sitting, always the same, and there I am, spreading out my broken, skinned fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides. As I grew up, I still stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.” Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn. “Yes, he is right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei, “let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life, our life is over!” A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think about his whole life again and came to the same old, reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he didn’t need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything. .

Passages to memorize from the novel

"War and Peace" (two optional)

I. Sky of Austerlitz

What is this? I'm falling! My legs are giving way,” he thought and fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the fight between the French and the artillerymen ended, and wanting to know whether the red-haired artilleryman was killed or not, whether the guns were taken or saved. But he didn't see anything. There was nothing above him anymore except the sky - a high sky, not clear, but still immeasurably high, with gray clouds quietly creeping across it. “How quiet, calm and solemn, not at all like how I ran,” thought Prince Andrei, “not like how we ran, shouted and fought; It’s not at all like how the Frenchman and the artilleryman pulled the banner from each other with embittered and frightened faces - not at all like how the clouds crawl across this high endless sky. How come I haven’t seen this high sky before? And how happy I am that I finally recognized him. Yes! everything is empty, everything is deception, except this endless sky. There is nothing, nothing, except him. But even that is not there, there is nothing but silence, calm. And thank God!.. "

I.Description of oak

There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, two girths wide, with branches that had been broken off for a long time and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge clumsy, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled hands and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.

"Spring, and love, and happiness!" - it was as if this oak tree was speaking. - And how can you not get tired of the same stupid and senseless deception? Everything is the same, and everything is a lie! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look there, the crushed dead spruce trees are sitting, always alone, and there I am, spreading out my broken, skinned fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides; As we grew up, I still stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”

Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn.

“Yes, he is right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei, let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life, “our life is over!” A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think over his whole life again, and came to the same old reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he did not need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything.

III. Description of oak

“Yes, here, in this forest, there was this oak tree, with which we agreed,” thought Prince Andrei. “But where is it,” thought Prince Andrei again, looking at the left side of the road and, without knowing it, without recognizing him , admired the oak tree he was looking for. The old oak tree, completely transformed, spread out like a tent of lush, dark greenery, swayed slightly, swaying slightly in the rays of the evening sun. No gnarled fingers, no sores, no old mistrust and grief - nothing was visible. Juicy, young leaves broke through the tough, hundred-year-old bark without knots, so it was impossible to believe that this old man had produced them. “Yes, this is the same oak tree,” thought Prince Andrei, and suddenly an unreasonable spring feeling of joy and renewal came over him. All the best moments of his life suddenly came back to him at the same time. And Austerlitz with the high sky, and the dead, reproachful face of his wife, and Pierre on the ferry, and the girl excited by the beauty of the night, and this night, and the moon - and all this suddenly came to his mind.

“No, life is not over at the age of 31,” Prince Andrei suddenly finally, unchangeably decided. Not only do I know everything that is in me, it is necessary for everyone to know it: both Pierre and this girl who wanted to fly into the sky, it is necessary for everyone to know me, so that my life does not go on for me alone, so that they do not live so independently of my life, so that it is reflected on everyone and so that they all live with me!”

IV. Natasha's dance

Natasha threw off the scarf that was draped over her, ran ahead of her uncle and, putting her hands on her hips, made a movement with her shoulders and stood.

Where, how, when did this Countess, raised by a French emigrant, suck into herself from that Russian air that she breathed, this spirit, where did she get these techniques that dancing with a shawl should have long ago supplanted? But the spirit and techniques were the same, inimitable, unstudied, Russian, which her uncle expected from her. As soon as she stood up, smiled solemnly, proudly and slyly and cheerfully, the first fear that gripped Nikolai and everyone present, the fear that she would do the wrong thing, passed, and they were already admiring her.

She did the same thing and did it so precisely, so completely precisely that Anisia Fedorovna, who immediately handed her the scarf necessary for her business, burst into tears through laughter, looking at this thin, graceful, so alien to her, well-bred countess in silk and velvet. , who knew how to understand everything that was in Anisya, and in Anisya’s father, and in her aunt, and in her mother, and in every Russian person.