Emma Watson Pussy
War And Peace
he recalled those thoughts Pierre was convinced that
someone outside himself had spoken them, though the impressions of
that day had evoked them. He had never, it seemed to him, been able to
think and express his thoughts like that when awake.
"To endure war is the most difficult subordination of mans
freedom to the law of God," the voice had said. "Simplicity is
submission to the will of God; you cannot escape from Him. And they
are simple. They do not talk, but act. The spoken word is silver but
the unspoken is golden. Man can be master of nothing while he fears
death, but he who does not fear it possesses all. If there were no
suffering, man would not know his limitations, would not know himself.
The hardest thing [Pierre went on thinking, or hearing, in his
dream] is to be able in your soul to unite the meaning of all. To
unite all?" he asked himself. "No, not to unite. Thoughts cannot be
united, but to harness all these thoughts together is what we need!
Yes, one must harness them, must harness them!" he repeated to himself
with inward rapture, feeling that these words and they alone expressed
what he wanted to say and solved the question that tormented him.
"Yes, one must harness, it is time to harness."
"Time to harness, time to harness, your excellency! Your
excellency!" some voice was repeating. "We must harness, it is time to
It was the voice of the groom, trying to wake him. The sun shone
straight into Pierres face. He glanced at the dirty innyard in the
middle of which soldiers were watering their lean horses at the pump
while carts were passing out of the gate. Pierre turned away with
repugnance, and closing his eyes quickly fell back on the carriage
seat. "No, I dont want that, I dont want to see and understand that.
I want to understand what was revealing itself to me in my dream.
One second more and I should have understood it all! But what am I
to do? Harness, but how can I harness everything?" and Pierre felt
with horror that the meaning of all he had seen and thought in the
dream had been destroyed.
The groom, the coachman, and the innkeeper told Pierre that an
officer had come with news that the French were already near
Mozhaysk and that our men were leaving it.
Pierre got up and, having told them to harness and overtake him,
went on foot through the town.
The troops were moving on, leaving about ten thousand wounded behind
them. There were wounded in the yards, at the windows of the houses,
and the streets were crowded with them. In the streets, around carts
that were to take some of the wounded away, shouts, curses, and
blows could be heard. Pierre offered the use of his carriage, which
had overtaken him, to a wounded general he knew, and drove with him
to Moscow. On the way Pierre was told of the death of his
brother-in-law Anatole and of that of Prince Andrew.
On the thirteenth of August Pierre reached Moscow. Close to the
gates of the city he was met by Count Rostopchins adjutant.
"We have been looking for you everywhere," said the adjutant. "The
count wants to see you particularly. He asks you to come to him at
once on a very important matter."
Without going home, Pierre took a cab and drove to see the Moscow
commander in chief.
Count Rostopchin had only that morning returned to town from his
summer villa at Sokolniki. The anteroom and reception room of his
house were full of officials who had been summoned or had come for
orders. Vasilchikov and Platov had already seen the count and
explained to him that it was impossible to defend Moscow and that it
would have to be surrendered. Though this news was being concealed
from the inhabitants, the officials--the heads of the various
government departments--knew that Moscow would soon be in the
enemys hands, just as Count Rostopchin himself knew it, and to escape
personal responsibility they had all come to the governor to ask how
they were to deal with their various departments.
As Pierre was entering the reception room a courier from the army
came out of Rostopchins private room.
In answer to questions with which he was greeted, the courier made a
despairing gesture with his hand and passed through the room.
While waiting in the reception room Pierre with weary eyes watched
the various officials, old and young, military and civilian,
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