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While waiting for the announcement of his appointment to the
committee Prince Andrew looked up his former acquaintances, particularly
those he knew to be in power and whose aid he might need. In Petersburg
he now experienced the same feeling he had had on the eve of a
battle, when troubled by anxious curiosity and irresistibly attracted
to the ruling circles where the future, on which the fate of millions
depended, was being shaped. From the irritation of the older men,
the curiosity of the uninitiated. the reserve of the initiated,
the hurry and preoccupation of everyone, and the innumerable committees
and commissions of whose existence he learned every day, he felt
that now, in 1809, here in Petersburg a vast civil conflict was
in preparation, the commander in chief of which was a mysterious
person he did not know, but who was supposed to be a man of genius-
Speranski. And this movement of reconstruction of which Prince
Andrew had a vague idea, and Speranski its chief promoter, began
to interest him so keenly that the question of the army regulations
quickly receded to a secondary place in his consciousness.
Prince Andrew was most favorably placed to secure good reception
in the highest and most diverse Petersburg circles of the day.
The reforming party cordially welcomed and courted him, the first
place because he was reputed to be clever and very well read,
and secondly because by liberating his serfs he had obtained the
reputation of being a liberal. The party of the old and dissatisfied,
who censured the innovations, turned to him expecting his sympathy
in their disapproval of the reforms, simply because he was the
son of his father. The feminine society world welcomed him gladly,
because he was rich, distinguished, a good match, and almost a
newcomer, with a halo of romance on account of his supposed death
and the tragic loss of his wife. Besides this the general opinion
of all who had known him previously was that he had greatly improved
during these last five years, having softened and grown more manly,
lost his former affectation, pride, and contemptuous irony, and
acquired the serenity that comes with years. People talked about
him, were interested in him, and wanted to meet him.
The day after his interview with Count Arakcheev, Prince Andrew
spent the evening at Count Kochubey's. He told the count of his
interview with Sila Andreevich (Kochubey spoke of Arakcheev by
that nickname with the same vague irony Prince Andrew had noticed
in the Minister of War's anteroom).
"Mon cher, even in this case you can't do without Michael
Mikhaylovich Speranski. He manages everything. I'll speak to him.
He has promised to come this evening."
"What has Speranski to do with the army regulations?"
asked Prince Andrew.
Kochubey shook his head smilingly, as if surprised at Bolkonski's
simplicity.
"We were talking to him about you a few days ago,"
Kochubey continued, "and about your freed plowmen."
"Oh, is it you, Prince, who have freed your serfs?"
said an old man of Catherine's day, turning contemptuously toward
Bolkonski.
"It was a small estate that brought in no profit,"
replied Prince Andrew, trying to extenuate his action so as not
to irritate the old man uselessly.
"Afraid of being late..." said the old man, looking
at Kochubey.
"There's one thing I don't understand," he continued.
"Who will plow the land if they are set free? It is easy
to write laws, but difficult to rule.... Just the same as now-
I ask you, Count- who will be heads of the departments when everybody
has to pass examinations?"
"Those who pass the examinations, I suppose," replied
Kochubey, crossing his legs and glancing round.
"Well, I have Pryanichnikov serving under me, a splendid
man, a priceless man, but he's sixty. Is he to go up for examination?"
"Yes, that's a difficulty, as education is not at all
general, but..."
Count Kochubey did not finish. He rose, took Prince Andrew
by the arm, and went to meet a tall, bald, fair man of about forty
with a large open forehead and a long face of unusual and peculiar
whiteness, who was just entering. The newcomer wore a blue swallow-tail
coat with a cross suspended from his neck and a star on his left
breast. It was Speranski. Prince Andrew recognized him at once,
and felt a throb within him, as happens at critical moments of
life. Whether it was from respect, envy, or anticipation, he did
not know. Speranski's whole figure was of a peculiar type that
made him easily recognizable. In the society in which Prince Andrew
lived he had never seen anyone who together with awkward and clumsy
gestures possessed such calmness and self-assurance; he had never
seen so resolute yet gentle an expression as that in those half-closed,
rather humid eyes, or so firm a smile that expressed nothing;
nor had he heard such a refined, smooth, soft voice; above all
he had never seen such delicate whiteness of face or hands- hands
which were broad, but very plump, soft, and white. Such whiteness
and softness Prince Andrew had only seen on the faces of soldiers
who had been long in hospital. This was Speranski, Secretary of
State, reporter to the Emperor and his companion at Erfurt, where
he had more than once met and talked with Napoleon.
Speranski did not shift his eyes from one face to another
as people involuntarily do on entering a large company and was
in no hurry to speak. He spoke slowly, with assurance that he
would be listened to, and he looked only at the person with whom
he was conversing.
Prince Andrew followed Speranski's every word and movement
with particular attention. As happens to some people, especially
to men who judge those near to them severely, he always on meeting
anyone new- especially anyone whom, like Speranski, he knew by
reputation- expected to discover in him the perfection of human
qualities.
Speranski told Kochubey he was sorry he had been unable to
come sooner as he had been detained at the palace. He did not
say that the Emperor had kept him, and Prince Andrew noticed this
affectation of modesty. When Kochubey introduced Prince Andrew,
Speranski slowly turned his eyes to Bolkonski with his customary
smile and looked at him in silence.
"I am very glad to make your acquaintance. I had heard
of you, as everyone has," he said after a pause.
Kochubey said a few words about the reception Arakcheev had
given Bolkonski. Speranski smiled more markedly.
"The chairman of the Committee on Army Regulations is
my good friend Monsieur Magnitski," he said, fully articulating
every word and syllable, "and if you like I can put you in
touch with him." He paused at the full stop. "I hope
you will find him sympathetic and ready to co-operate in promoting
all that is reasonable."
A circle soon formed round Speranski, and the old man who
had talked about his subordinate Pryanichnikov addressed a question
to him.
Prince Andrew without joining in the conversation watched
every movement of Speranski's: this man, not long since an insignificant
divinity student, who now, Bolkonski thought, held in his hands-
those plump white hands- the fate of Russia. Prince Andrew was
struck by the extraordinarily disdainful composure with which
Speranski answered the old man. He appeared to address condescending
words to him from an immeasurable height. When the old man began
to speak too loud, Speranski smiled and said he could not judge
of the advantage or disadvantage of what pleased the sovereign.
Having talked for a little while in the general circle, Speranski
rose and coming up to Prince Andrew took him along to the other
end of the room. It was clear that he thought it necessary to
interest himself in Bolkonski.
"I had no chance to talk with you, Prince, during the
animated conversation in which that venerable gentleman involved
me," he said with a mildly contemptuous smile, as if intimating
by that smile that he and Prince Andrew understood the insignificance
of the people with whom he had just been talking. This flattered
Prince Andrew. "I have known of you for a long time: first
from your action with regard to your serfs, a first example, of
which it is very desirable that there should be more imitators;
and secondly because you are one of those gentlemen of the chamber
who have not considered themselves offended by the new decree
concerning the ranks allotted to courtiers, which is causing so
much gossip and tittle-tattle."
"No," said Prince Andrew, "my father did not
wish me to take advantage of the privilege. I began the service
from the lower grade."
"Your father, a man of the last century, evidently stands
above our contemporaries who so condemn this measure which merely
reestablishes natural justice."
"I think, however, that these condemnations have some
ground," returned Prince Andrew, trying to resist Speranski's
influence, of which he began to be conscious. He did not like
to agree with him in everything and felt a wish to contradict.
Though he usually spoke easily and well, he felt a difficulty
in expressing himself now while talking with Speranski. He was
too much absorbed in observing the famous man's personality.
"Grounds of personal ambition maybe," Speranski
put in quietly.
"And of state interest to some extent," said Prince
Andrew.
"What do you mean?" asked Speranski quietly, lowering
his eyes.
"I am an admirer of Montesquieu," replied Prince
Andrew, "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 principle of monarchies is honor seems to me incontestable.
Certain rights and privileges for the aristocracy appear to me
a means of maintaining that sentiment."
The smile vanished from Speranski's white face, which was
much improved by the change. Probably Prince Andrew's thought
interested him.
"Si vous envisagez la question sous ce point de vue,"*
he began, pronouncing French with evident difficulty, and speaking
even slower than in Russian but quite calmly.
*"If you regard the question from that point of view."
Speranski went on to say that honor, l'honeur, cannot be upheld
by privileges harmful to the service; that honor, l'honneur, is
either a negative concept of not doing what is blameworthy or
it is a source of emulation in pursuit of commendation and rewards,
which recognize it. His arguments were concise, simple, and clear.
"An institution upholding honor, the source of emulation,
is one similar to the Legion d'honneur of the great Emperor Napoleon,
not harmful but helpful to the success of the service, but not
a class or court privilege."
"I do not dispute that, but it cannot be denied that
court privileges have attained the same end," returned Prince
Andrew. "Every courtier considers himself bound to maintain
his position worthily."
"Yet you do not care to avail yourself of the privilege,
Prince," said Speranski, indicating by a smile that he wished
to finish amiably an argument which was embarrassing for his companion.
"If you will do me the honor of calling on me on Wednesday,"
he added, "I will, after talking with Magnitski, let you
know what may interest you, and shall also have the pleasure of
a more detailed chat with you."
Closing his eyes, he bowed a la francaise, without taking
leave, and trying to attract as little attention as possible,
he left the room.
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