War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [280]
“Si vous envisager la question sous ce point de vue,”†340 he began, articulating in French with obvious difficulty and speaking still more slowly than in Russian, but perfectly calmly. He said that honor, l’honneur, could not be supported by privileges detrimental to the course of government service, that honor, l’honneur, was either a negative notion of not committing reprehensible acts, or a well-known source of competition for gaining approval and the rewards expressive of it.
His arguments were concise, simple, and clear.
“An institution supportive of this honor, the source of competition, is an institution like the Légion d’honneur of the great emperor Napoleon, which is not detrimental, but contributes to the success of the service, and not the privilege of rank or position at court.”
“I don’t argue, but it is impossible to deny that court privileges achieve the same goal,” said Prince Andrei. “Every courtier considers it his duty to uphold his position with dignity.”
“But you did not want to take advantage of it, Prince,” said Speransky, showing by his smile that he wished to stop an argument awkward for his interlocutor by this compliment. “If you will do me the honor of joining me on Wednesday,” he added, “then, once I’ve talked with Magnitsky, I will inform you of something that may interest you, and, besides that, I will have the pleasure of a more detailed conversation with you.” He closed his eyes, bowed, and, à la française, without saying good-bye, trying not to be noticed, left the room.
VI
During the initial time of his stay in Petersburg, Prince Andrei felt that his whole way of thinking, developed in his solitary life, was completely overshadowed by the petty cares that consumed him in Petersburg.
On coming home in the evening, he would jot down in his notebook four or five necessary visits or rendez-vous at appointed hours. The mechanism of life, the ordering of the day so as to get everywhere on time, took the greater part of the very energy of life. He did not do anything, he did not even think about anything and had no time to think, but only talked, and talked successfully, about what he had had time to think over previously in the country.
He sometimes noticed with displeasure that he had happened to repeat the same thing on the same day in different companies. But he was so busy for whole days that he had no time to think about the fact that he was doing nothing.
As in his first meeting with him at Kochubey’s, Speransky also made a strong impression on Bolkonsky that Wednesday at home, where he received him alone and talked with him at length and trustfully.
Prince Andrei considered such a vast number of people as contemptible and insignificant beings, he wanted so much to find in someone else the living ideal of that perfection for which he strove, that he easily believed that in Speransky he had found that ideal of the fully reasonable and virtuous man. If Speransky had been from the same society as Prince Andrei, of the same upbringing and moral habits, Bolkonsky would soon have found his weak, human, unheroic sides, but as it was, this logical way of thinking, which was strange for him, inspired him with all the more respect because he did not quite understand him. Besides that, Speransky, either because he appreciated Prince Andrei’s ability, or because he found it necessary to acquire him for himself, flaunted his impartial, calm reason before Prince Andrei and flattered Prince Andrei with that subtle flattery, combined with self-assurance, which consists in silently acknowledging one’s interlocutor and oneself as the only people capable of understanding all the stupidity of all the rest, and the intelligence and profundity of one’s own thoughts.
In the course of their long conversation on Wednesday evening, Speransky said more than once: “Among us everything that lies outside the general level of inveterate habit is considered…” or, with a smile: “But we want the wolves well-fed