Pierre tried to reply； but he could not get in a word。 He felt that the sound of his words； apart from any meaning they conveyed； was less audible than the sound of his excited adversary’s voice。
In the rear of the group； Ilya Andreitch was nodding approval； several of the audience turned their shoulders briskly to the orator at the conclusion of a phrase and said：
“That’s so； that’s so； indeed！”
Pierre wanted to say that he was by no means averse to the sacrifice of his money； or his peasants； or himself； but that one ought to know the true position of affairs； in order to be able to assist； but he could not speak。
A number of voices were speaking and shouting together； so much so that Ilya Andreitch had not time to nod approval to all of them。 And the group grew larger and broke up into knots； re…formed again； and moved all together with a hum of talk to the big table in the big room。 Pierre was not allowed to speak； they rudely interrupted him； indeed hustled him and turned their backs on him as though he were the common foe。 This was not really due to their dislike of the tenor of his speech； which they had forgotten； indeed； after the great number of speeches that followed it。 But a crowd is always pleased to have a concrete object for its love or its hatred。 Pierre furnished it with the latter。
Many orators spoke after the eager nobleman； but all spoke in the same tone。 Some spoke eloquently and originally。
The editor of the Russian Messenger； Glinka； who was recognised and greeted with shouts of “the author； the author！” said that hell must be driven back by hell； that he had seen a child smiling at the lightning flash and the thunder clap； but we would not be like that child。
“Yes； yes； at the thunder clap！” was repeated with approval at the back of the crowd。
The crowd approached the great table； where grey or bald old noblemen of seventy were sitting； wearing uniforms and decorations。 Almost all of them Pierre had seen with their buffoons in their own homes or playing boston at the club。 The crowd drew near the table； still with the same buzz of talk。 The orators； squeezed in behind the high chair backs by the surging crowd； spoke one after another and sometimes two at once。 Those who stood further back noticed what the speaker had left unsaid and hastened to supply the gap。 Others were busy in the heat and crush； ransacking their brains to find some idea and hurriedly uttering it。 The old grandees at the table sat looking from one to another； and their expression for the most part betrayed nothing but that they were very hot。 Pierre however felt excited； and the general feeling of desire to show that they were ready for anything； expressed for the most part more in tones and looks than in the tenor of the speeches； infected him too。 He did not disavow his ideas； but felt somehow in fault and tried to defend himself。
“I only said that we could make sacrifices to better purpose when we know what is needed；” he cried； trying to shout down the other voices。
One old man close by him looked round； but his attention was immediately called off by a shout at the other end of the table。
“Yes； Moscow will be surrendered！ She will be the expiation！” one man was shouting。
“He is the enemy of mankind！” another shouted。
“Allow me to say…”
“Gentlemen； you are crushing me！…”
Chapter 23
AT THAT MOMENT Count Rastoptchin； with his prominent chin and alert eyes； strode in rapidly through the parting crowd； wearing the uniform of a general and a ribbon over his shoulder。
“Our sovereign the Emperor will be here immediately；” said Rastoptchin。 “I have just come from him。 I presume that in the position in which we are placed； there is no need of much discussion。 The Emperor has graciously seen fit to summon us and the merchants；” said Count Rastoptchin。 “They will pour out their millions” （he pointed to the merchants’ hall）； “it is our duty to raise men and not to spare ourselves。… It is the least we can do。”
A consultation took place between the great noblemen at the table only。 The whole consultation was more than subdued； it seemed ever mournful； when； after all the hubbub that had gone before； the old voices could be heard； one at a time； saying “agreed；” or for the sake of variety； “I am of the same opinion。”
The secretary was told to write down the resolution of the Moscow nobility： that the nobles of Moscow； like those of Smolensk； would furnish a levy of ten men in every thousand； with their complete equipment。
The gentlemen； who had been sitting； got up with an air of relief； there was a scraping of chairs and the great noblemen walked about to stretch their legs； taking their friends’ arms and chatting together。
“The Tsar！ the Tsar！” was suddenly heard all through the rooms； and the whole crowd rushed towards the entrance。
The Tsar walked in along the wide； free space left for him； between walls of noblemen close packed on each side。 Every face expressed reverent and awe…stricken curiosity。 Pierre was at some distance； and could not quite catch all the Tsar said。 He knew from what he did hear that the Tsar was speaking of the danger in which the empire was placed； and the hopes he rested on the Moscow nobility。 The Tsar was answered by a voice informing him of the resolution just passed by the nobility。
“Gentlemen！” said the trembling voice of the Tsar。 A stir passed through the crowd； and then a hush fell on it again； and Pierre distinctly heard the voice of the Tsar； warmly humane and deeply touched： “I have never doubted of the devotion of the Russian nobility。 But this day it has surpassed my expectations。 I thank you in the name of the fatherland。 Gentlemen； let us act—time is more precious than anything。…”
The Tsar ceased speaking； the crowd began pressing round him； and cries of enthusiasm were heard on all sides。
“Yes； more precious than anything…a royal saying；” said the voice of Ilya Andreitch with a sob。 He had heard nothing； but understood everything in his own way。
From the nobility’s room the Tsar went into the merchants’ room。 He was there for about ten minutes。 Pierre amongst the rest saw the Tsar coming back from the merchants’ room with tears of emotion in his eyes。 They learned afterwards that the Tsar had hardly begun to speak to the merchants when the tears gushed from his eyes and he continued in a trembling voice。 When Pierre saw the Tsar come out； he was accompanied by two merchants。 One of them Pierre knew； a stout contractor； the other was the mayor； with a thin； yellow face and narrow beard。 Both were weeping。 The tears stood in the thin man’s eyes； but the stout contractor was sobbing like a child and continually repeating：
“Take life and property too； your majesty！”
Pierre felt nothing at that moment but the desire to show that nothing was too much for him and that he was ready to sacrifice everything。 The constitutional tenor of his speech weighed on him like a sin； he sought an opportunity of glossing it over。 On hearing that Count Mamonov was furnishing a regiment； Bezuhov at once told Count Rastoptchin that he would furnish one thousand men and their equipment。
Old Rostov could not tell his wife what had passed without tears； and he agreed at once to Petya’s wishes； and went himself to enter his name。
Next day the Tsar went away。 All the assembled noblemen went back to their homes and their clubs； took off their uniforms； and with some groans gave orders to their stewards to raise the levy； wondering themselves at what they had done。
Part Ten
Chapter 1
NAPOLEON BEGAN THE WAR with Russia because he could not help going to Dresden； being dazzled by the homage paid him there； putting on the Polish uniform； yielding to the stimulating influence of a June morning； and giving way to an outburst of fury in the presence of Kurakin and afterwards of Balashev。
Alexander refused all negotiations because he felt himself personally insulted。 Barclay de Tolly did his utmost to command the army in the best way possible； so as to do his duty and gain the reputation of a great general。 Rostov charged the French because he could not resist the temptation to gallop across the level plain。 And all the innumerable persons who took part in the war acted similarly； in accordance with their personal peculiarities； habits； circumstances； and aims。 They were all impelled by fear or vanity； enjoyment； indignation； or national consideration； supposing that they knew what they were about and that they were acting independently； while they were all the involuntary tools of history and were working out a result concealed from themselves but comprehensible to us。 Such is the invariable fate of all practical leaders； and the higher their place in the social hierarchy； the less free they are。
Now the leading men of 1812 have long left their places； their personal interests have vanished； leaving no trace； and nothing remains before us but the historical results of the time。
But once let us admit that the people of Europe under Napoleon’s leadership had to make their way into the heart of Russia and there to perish； and all the self…contradictory； meaningless； cruel actions of the men who took part in this war become intelligible to us。
Providenc