Book Six: 1808-10 - Chapter XVIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Next day Prince Andrew thought of the ball, but his mind did notdwell on it long. "Yes, it was a very brilliant ball," and then..."Yes, that little Rostova is very charming. There's something fresh,original, un-Petersburg-like about her that distinguishes her." Thatwas all he thought about yesterday's ball, and after his morning teahe set to work.

　　But either from fatigue or want of sleep he was ill-disposed forwork and could get nothing done. He kept criticizing his own work,as he often did, and was glad when he heard someone coming.

　　The visitor was Bitski, who served on various committees, frequentedall the societies in Petersburg, and a passionate devotee of the newideas and of Speranski, and a diligent Petersburg newsmonger- one ofthose men who choose their opinions like their clothes according tothe fashion, but who for that very reason appear to be the warmestpartisans. Hardly had he got rid of his hat before he ran intoPrince Andrew's room with a preoccupied air and at once began talking.He had just heard particulars of that morning's sitting of the Councilof State opened by the Emperor, and he spoke of it enthusiastically.The Emperor's speech had been extraordinary. It had been a speech suchas only constitutional monarchs deliver. "The Sovereign plainly saidthat the Council and Senate are estates of the realm, he said that thegovernment must rest not on authority but on secure bases. The Emperorsaid that the fiscal system must be reorganized and the accountspublished," recounted Bitski, emphasizing certain words and openinghis eyes significantly.

　　"Ah, yes! Today's events mark an epoch, the greatest epoch in ourhistory," he concluded.

　　Prince Andrew listened to the account of the opening of theCouncil of State, which he had so impatiently awaited and to whichhe had attached such importance, and was surprised that this event,now that it had taken place, did not affect him, and even seemed quiteinsignificant. He listened with quiet irony to Bitski's enthusiasticaccount of it. A very simple thought occurred to him: "What does itmatter to me or to Bitski what the Emperor was pleased to say at theCouncil? Can all that make me any happier or better?"

　　And this simple reflection suddenly destroyed all the interestPrince Andrew had felt in the impending reforms. He was going todine that evening at Speranski's, "with only a few friends," as thehost had said when inviting him. The prospect of that dinner in theintimate home circle of the man he so admired had greatly interestedPrince Andrew, especially as he had not yet seen Speranski in hisdomestic surroundings, but now he felt disinclined to go to it.

　　At the appointed hour, however, he entered the modest houseSperanski owned in the Taurida Gardens. In the parqueted dining roomthis small house, remarkable for its extreme cleanliness (suggestingthat of a monastery), Prince Andrew, who was rather late, found thefriendly gathering of Speranski's intimate acquaintances alreadyassembled at five o'clock. There were no ladies present exceptSperanski's little daughter (long-faced like her father) and hergoverness. The other guests were Gervais, Magnitski, and Stolypin.While still in the anteroom Prince Andrew heard loud voices and aringing staccato laugh- a laugh such as one hears on the stage.Someone- it sounded like Speranski- was distinctly ejaculatingha-ha-ha. Prince Andrew had never before heard Speranski's famouslaugh, and this ringing, high pitched laughter from a statesman made astrange impression on him.

　　He entered the dining room. The whole company were standingbetween two windows at a small table laid with hors-d'oeuvres.Speranski, wearing a gray swallow-tail coat with a star on the breast,and evidently still the same waistcoat and high white stock he hadworn at the meeting of the Council of State, stood at the table with abeaming countenance. His guests surrounded him. Magnitski,addressing himself to Speranski, was relating an anecdote, andSperanski was laughing in advance at what Magnitski was going tosay. When Prince Andrew entered the room Magnitski's words wereagain crowned by laughter. Stolypin gave a deep bass guffaw as hemunched a piece of bread and cheese. Gervais laughed softly with ahissing chuckle, and Speranski in a high-pitched staccato manner.

　　Still laughing, Speranski held out his soft white hand to PrinceAndrew.

　　"Very pleased to see you, Prince," he said. "One moment..." hewent on, turning to Magnitski and interrupting his story. "We haveagreed that this is a dinner for recreation, with not a word aboutbusiness!" and turning again to the narrator he began to laugh afresh.

　　Prince Andrew looked at the laughing Speranski with astonishment,regret, and disillusionment. It seemed to him that this was notSperanski but someone else. Everything that had formerly appearedmysterious and fascinating in Speranski suddenly became plain andunattractive.

　　At dinner the conversation did not cease for a moment and seemedto consist of the contents of a book of funny anecdotes. BeforeMagnitski had finished his story someone else was anxious to relatesomething still funnier. Most of the anecdotes, if not relating to thestate service, related to people in the service. It seemed that inthis company the insignificance of those people was so definitelyaccepted that the only possible attitude toward them was one of goodhumored ridicule. Speranski related how at the Council that morninga deaf dignitary, when asked his opinion, replied that he thought sotoo. Gervais gave a long account of an official revision, remarkablefor the stupidity of everybody concerned. Stolypin, stuttering,broke into the conversation and began excitedly talking of theabuses that existed under the former order of things- threatening togive a serious turn to the conversation. Magnitski starting quizzingStolypin about his vehemence. Gervais intervened with a joke, andthe talk reverted to its former lively tone.

　　Evidently Speranski liked to rest after his labors and findamusement in a circle of friends, and his guests, understanding hiswish, tried to enliven him and amuse themselves. But their gaietyseemed to Prince Andrew mirthless and tiresome. Speranski'shigh-pitched voice struck him unpleasantly, and the incessant laughtergrated on him like a false note. Prince Andrew did not laugh andfeared that he would be a damper on the spirits of the company, but noone took any notice of his being out of harmony with the general mood.They all seemed very gay.

　　He tried several times to join in the conversation, but hisremarks were tossed aside each time like a cork thrown out of thewater, and he could not jest with them.

　　There was nothing wrong or unseemly in what they said, it waswitty and might have been funny, but it lacked just that somethingwhich is the salt of mirth, and they were not even aware that such athing existed.

　　After dinner Speranski's daughter and her governess rose. Hepatted the little girl with his white hand and kissed her. And thatgesture, too, seemed unnatural to Prince Andrew.

　　The men remained at table over their port- English fashion. In themidst of a conversation that was started about Napoleon's Spanishaffairs, which they all agreed in approving, Prince Andrew began toexpress a contrary opinion. Speranski smiled and, with an evident wishto prevent the conversation from taking an unpleasant course, told astory that had no connection with the previous conversation. For a fewmoments all were silent.

　　Having sat some time at table, Speranski corked a bottle of wineand, remarking, "Nowadays good wine rides in a carriage and pair,"passed it to the servant and got up. All rose and continuing to talkloudly went into the drawing room. Two letters brought by a courierwere handed to Speranski and he took them to his study. As soon ashe had left the room the general merriment stopped and the guestsbegan to converse sensibly and quietly with one another.

　　"Now for the recitation!" said Speranski on returning from hisstudy. "A wonderful talent!" he said to Prince Andrew, and Magnitskiimmediately assumed a pose and began reciting some humorous versesin French which he had composed about various well-known Petersburgpeople. He was interrupted several times by applause. When theverses were finished Prince Andrew went up to Speranski and took hisleave.

　　"Where are you off to so early?" asked Speranski.

　　"I promised to go to a reception."

　　They said no more. Prince Andrew looked closely into thosemirrorlike, impenetrable eyes, and felt that it had been ridiculous ofhim to have expected anything from Speranski and from any of his ownactivities connected with him, or ever to have attributed importanceto what Speranski was doing. That precise, mirthless laughter rangin Prince Andrew's ears long after he had left the house.

　　When he reached home Prince Andrew began thinking of his life inPetersburg during those last four months as if it were somethingnew. He recalled his exertions and solicitations, and the history ofhis project of army reform, which had been accepted forconsideration and which they were trying to pass over in silencesimply because another, a very poor one, had already been prepared andsubmitted to the Emperor. He thought of the meetings of a committee ofwhich Berg was a member. He remembered how carefully and at whatlength everything relating to form and procedure was discussed atthose meetings, and how sedulously and promptly all that related tothe gist of the business was evaded. He recalled his labors on theLegal Code, and how painstakingly he had translated the articles ofthe Roman and French codes into Russian, and he felt ashamed ofhimself. Then he vividly pictured to himself Bogucharovo, hisoccupations in the country, his journey to Ryazan; he remembered thepeasants and Dron the village elder, and mentally applying to them thePersonal Rights he had divided into paragraphs, he felt astonishedthat he could have spent so much time on such useless work.