ON REACHING PETERSBURG, Pierre let no one know of his arrival, went out to see nobody, and spent whole days in reading Thomas à Kempis, a book which had been sent him, he did not know from whom. One thing, and one thing only, Pierre thoroughly understood in reading that book; he understood what he had hitherto known nothing of, all the bliss of believing in the possibility of attaining perfection, and in the possibility of brotherly and active love between men, revealed to him by Osip Alexyevitch. A week after his arrival, the young Polish count, Villarsky, whom Pierre knew very slightly in Petersburg society, came one evening into his room with the same official and ceremonious air with which Dolohov's second had called on him. Closing the door behind him, and assuring himself that there was nobody in the room but Pierre, he addressed him:
“I have come to you with a message and a suggestion, count,” he said to him, not sitting down. “A personage of very high standing in our brotherhood has been interceding for you to be admitted into our brotherhood before the usual term, and has asked me to be your sponsor. I regard it as a sacred duty to carry out that person's wishes. Do you wish under my sponsorship to enter the brotherhood of freemasons?”
Pierre was impressed by the cold and austere tone of this man, whom he had almost always seen before at balls wearing an agreeable smile, in the society of the most brilliant women.
“Yes, I do wish it,” said Pierre.
Villarsky bent his head.
“One more question, count,” he said, “to which I beg you, not as a future mason, but as an honest man (galant homme) to answer me in all sincerity: have you renounced your former convictions? do you believe in God?”
Pierre thought a moment.
“Yes … yes, I do believe in God,” he said.
“In that case…” Villarsky was beginning, but Pierre interrupted him.
“Yes, I believe in God,” he said once more.
“In that case, we can go,” said Villarsky. “My carriage is at your disposal.”
Throughout the drive Villarsky was silent. In answer to Pierre's inquiries, what he would have to do, and how he would have to answer, Villarsky simply said that brothers, more worthy than he, would prove him, and that Pierre need do nothing but tell the truth.
They drove in at the gates of a large house, where the lodge had its quarters, and, passing up a dark staircase, entered a small, lighted ante-room, where they took off their overcoats without the assistance of servants. From the ante-room they walked into another room. A man in strange attire appeared at the door. Villarsky, going in to meet him, said something to him in French in a low voice, and went up to a small cupboard, where Pierre noticed garments unlike any he had seen before. Taking a handkerchief from the cupboard, Villarsky put it over Pierre's eyes and tied it in a knot behind, catching his hair painfully in the knot. Then he drew him towards himself, kissed him, and taking him by the hand led him away somewhere. Pierre had been hurt by his hair being pulled in the knot: he puckered up his face from the pain, and smiled with vague shame. His huge figure with his arms hanging at his sides, and his face puckered up and smiling, moved after Villarsky with timid and uncertain steps.
After leading him for about ten steps, Villarsky stopped.
“Whatever happens to you,” said he, “you must endure all with good courage if you are firmly resolved to enter our brotherhood.” (Pierre answered affirmatively by an inclination of his head.) “When you hear a knock at the door, you may uncover your eyes,” added Villarsky; “I wish you good courage and success,” and, pressing Pierre's hand, Villarsky went away.
When he was left alone, Pierre still went on smiling in the same way. Twice he shrugged his shoulders and raised his hand to the handkerchief, as though he would have liked to take it off, but he let it drop again. The five minutes he had spent with his eyes bandaged seemed to him an hour. His arms felt numb, his legs tottered, he felt as though he were tired out. He was aware of the most complex and conflicting feelings. He was afraid of what would be done to him, and still more afraid of showing fear. He felt inquisitive to know what was coming, what would be revealed to him; but above everything, he felt joy that the moment had come when he would at last enter upon that path of regeneration and of an actively virtuous life, of which he had been dreaming ever since his meeting with Osip Alexyevitch.
There came loud knocks at the door. Pierre took off the bandage and looked about him. It was black darkness in the room; only in one spot there was a little lamp burning before something white. Pierre went nearer and saw that the little lamp stood on a black table, on which there lay an open book. The book was the gospel: the white thing in which the lamp was burning was a human skull with its eyeholes and teeth. After reading the first words of the gospel, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God,” Pierre went round the table and caught sight of a large open box filled with something. It was a coffin full of bones. He was not in the least surprised by what he saw. Hoping to enter upon a completely new life, utterly unlike the old life, he was ready for anything extraordinary, more extraordinary indeed than what he was seeing. The skull, the coffin, the gospel—it seemed to him that he had been expecting all that; had been expecting more, indeed. He tried to stir up a devotional feeling in himself; he looked about him. “God, death, love, the brotherhood of man,” he kept saying to himself, associating with those words vague but joyful conceptions of some sort. The door opened and some one came in. In the faint light, in which Pierre could, however, see a little by this time, a short man approached. Apparently dazed by coming out of the light into the darkness, the man stopped, then with cautious steps moved again towards the table, and laid on it both his small hands covered with leather gloves.
This short man was wearing a white leather apron, that covered his chest and part of his legs; upon his neck could be seen something like a necklace, and a high white ruffle stood up from under the necklace, framing his long face, on which the light fell from below.
“For what are you come hither?” asked the newcomer, turning towards Pierre at a faint rustle made by the latter. “For what are you, an unbeliever in the truth of the light, who have not seen the light, for what are you come here? What do you seek from us? Wisdom, virtue, enlightenment?”
At the moment when the door opened and the unknown person came in, Pierre had a sensation of awe and reverence, such as he had felt in childhood at confession; he felt himself alone with a man who was in the circumstances of life a complete stranger, and yet through the brotherhood of men so near. With a beating heart that made him gasp for breath, Pierre turned to the rhetor, as in the phraseology of freemasonry the man is called who prepares the seeker for entering the brotherhood. Going closer, Pierre recognised in the rhetor a man he knew, Smolyaninov, but it was mortifying to him to think that the newcomer was a familiar figure; he was to him only a brother and a guide in the path of virtue. For a long while Pierre could not utter a word, so that the rhetor was obliged to repeat his question.
“Yes; I…I… wish to begin anew,” Pierre articulated with difficulty.
“Very good,” said Smolyaninov, and went on at once.
“Have you any idea of the means by which our holy order will assist you in attaining your aim?…” said the rhetor calmly and rapidly.
“I…hope for…guidance…for help…in renewing…” said Pierre, with a tremble in his voice and a difficulty in utterance due both to emotion and to being unaccustomed to speak of abstract subjects in Russian.
“What idea have you of freemasonry?”
“I assume that freemasonry is the fraternité and equality of men with virtuous aims,” said Pierre, feeling ashamed as he spoke of the incongruity of his words with the solemnity of the moment. “I assume …”
“Very good,” said the rhetor hastily, apparently quite satisfied with the reply. “Have you sought the means of attaining your aim in religion?”
“No; I regarded it as untrue and have not followed it,” said Pierre, so softly that the rhetor did not catch it, and asked him what he was saying. “I was an atheist,” answered Pierre.
“You seek the truth in order to follow its laws in life; consequently, you seek wisdom and virtue, do you not?” said the rhetor, after a moment's pause.
“Yes, yes,” assented Pierre.
The rhetor cleared his throat, folded his gloved hands across his chest, and began speaking.
“Now I must reveal to you the chief aim of our order,” he said, “and if that aim coincides with yours, you may with profit enter our brotherhood. The first and greatest aim and united basis of our order, on which it is established and which no human force can destroy, is the preservation and handing down to posterity of a certain important mystery … that has come down to us from the most ancient times, even from the first man—a mystery upon which, perhaps, the fate of the human race depends. But since this mystery is of such a kind that no one can know it and profit by it if he has not been prepared by a prolonged and diligent self-purification, not every one can hope to attain it quickly. Hence we have a second aim, which consists in preparing our members, as far as possible reforming their hearts, purifying and enlightening their intelligence by those means which have been revealed to us by tradition from men who have striven to attain this mystery, and thereby to render them fit for the reception of it. Purifying and regenerating our members, we endeavor, thirdly, to improve the whole human race, offering it in our members an example of piety and virtue, and thereby we strive with all our strength to combat the evil that is paramount in the world. Ponder on these things, and I will come again to you,” he said, and went out of the room.
“To combat the evil that is paramount in the world …” Pierre repeated, and a mental image of his future activity in that direction rose before him. He seemed to see men such as he had been himself a fortnight ago, and he was mentally addressing an edifying exhortation to them. He pictured to himself persons vicious and unhappy, whom he would help in word and in deed; he pictured oppressors whose victims he would rescue. Of the three aims enumerated by the rhetor the last— the reformation of the human race—appealed particularly to Pierre. The great mystery of which the rhetor had made mention, though it excited his curiosity, did not strike his imagination as a reality; while the second aim, the purification and regeneration of himself, had little interest for him, because at that moment he was full of a blissful sense of being completely cured of all his former vices, and being ready for nothing but goodness.
Half an hour later the rhetor returned to enumerate to the seeker the seven virtues corresponding to the seven steps of the temple of Solomon, in which every freemason must train himself. Those virtues were: (1) discretion, the keeping of the secrets of the order; (2) obedience to the higher authorities of the order; (3) morality; (4) love for mankind; (5) courage; (6) liberality; and (7) love of death.
“Seventhly, strive,” said the rhetor, “by frequent meditation upon death to bring yourself to feel it not an enemy to be dreaded, but a friend … which delivers the soul grown weary in the labours of virtue from this distressful life and leads it to its place of recompense and peace.”
“Yes, that's as it should be,” thought Pierre, when the rhetor after these words left him again to solitary reflection; “that's as it ought to be, but I'm still so weak as to love this life, the meaning of which is only now by degrees being revealed to me.” But the other five virtues which Pierre recalled, reckoning them on his fingers, he felt already in his soul; courage and liberality, morality and love for mankind, and above all obedience, which seemed to him not to be a virtue, indeed, but a happiness. (It was such a joy to him now to be escaping from the guidance of his own caprice, and to be submitting his will to those who knew the absolute truth.) The seventh virtue Pierre had forgotten, and he could not recall it.
The third time the rhetor came back sooner, and asked Pierre whether he were still resolute in his intention, and whether he were prepared to submit to everything that would be demanded of him.
“I am ready for anything,” said Pierre.
“I must inform you further,” said the rhetor, “that our order promulgates its doctrine not by word only, but by certain means which have perhaps on the true seeker after wisdom and virtue a more potent effect than merely verbal explanations. This temple, with what you see therein, should shed more light on your heart, if it is sincere, than any words can do. You will see, maybe, a like method of enlightenment in the further rites of your admittance. Our order follows the usage of ancient societies which revealed their doctrine in hieroglyphs. A hieroglyph,” said the rhetor, “is the name given to a symbol of some object, imperceptible to the senses and possessing qualities similar to those of the symbol.”
Pierre knew very well what a hieroglyph was, but he did not venture to say so. He listened to the rhetor in silence, feeling from everything he said that his ordeal was soon to begin.
“If you are resolved, I must proceed to your initiation,” said the rhetor, coming closer to Pierre. “In token of liberality I beg you to give me everything precious you have.”
“But I have nothing with me,” said Pierre, supposing he was being asked to give up all his possessions.
“What you have with you: watch, money, rings…”
Pierre made haste to get out his purse and his watch, and was a long time trying to get his betrothal ring off his fat finger. When this had been done, the freemason said:
“In token of obedience I beg you to undress.” Pierre took off his coat and waistcoat and left boot at the rhetor's instructions. The mason opened his shirt over the left side of his chest and pulled up his breeches on the left leg above the knee. Pierre would hurriedly have taken off the right boot and tucked up the trouser-leg, to save this stranger the trouble of doing so, but the mason told him this was not necessary and gave him a slipper to put on his left foot. With a childish smile of embarrassment, of doubt, and of self-mockery, which would come into his face in spite of himself, Pierre stood with his legs wide apart and his hands hanging at his sides, facing the rhetor and awaiting his next commands.
“And finally, in token of candour, I beg you to disclose to me your chief temptation,” he said.
“My temptation! I had so many,” said Pierre.
“The temptation which does more than all the rest to make you stumble on the path of virtue,” said the freemason.
Pierre paused, seeking a reply.
“Wine? gluttony? frivolity? laziness? hasty temper? anger? women?” he went through his vices, mentally balancing them, and not knowing to which to give the pre-eminence.
“Women,” said Pierre in a low, hardly audible voice. The freemason did not speak nor stir for a long while after that reply. At last he moved up to Pierre, took the handkerchief that lay on the table, and again tied it over his eyes.
“For the last time I say to you: turn all your attention upon yourself, put a bridle on your feelings, and seek blessedness not in your passions, but in your own heart. The secret of blessing is not without but within us.…”
Pierre had for a long while been conscious of this refreshing fount of blessing within him that now flooded his heart with joy and emotion.
皮埃尔抵达彼得堡以后，不把他到达这件事告知任何人，足不出户，整天价阅读一部不知道是何人送到他手上来的托马斯·肯庇斯的书。皮埃尔阅读这部书时，他再三地领悟到的只有这么一点，领会到他尚未体验到的乐趣：深信人们有可能臻达尽善尽美的境地，人们有可能实现坚贞不移的博爱，这是奥西普·阿列克谢耶维奇向他揭示的道理。在他抵达后过了一个礼拜，有一天晚上，年轻的波兰伯爵维拉尔斯基走进他房里来，皮埃尔在彼得堡社交界和他曾有一面之交，这个人装出一本正经的庄重的模样，有如多洛霍夫的决斗见证人走进房里来和他见面似的，他随手关上房门，心里摸清了屋子里除开皮埃尔而外没有其他人时，才向他转过脸来开口说话。
“伯爵，我承接委托和建议前来求见于您，”他不就坐，对他说道。“我们共济会有个地位很高的要人出面申请，旨在提前接纳您入会，并且建议我担任您的保证人。我把履行这位要员的意志看作是一项神圣的天职。您是否愿意在我保证下加入共济会？”
皮埃尔几乎经常在舞会上，即是在那些容貌出众的妇女们中间看见他脸上流露着善意的微笑，但是此刻他那冷淡而严峻的腔调，却使皮埃尔感到惊讶。
“是啊，我希望。”皮埃尔说道。
维拉尔斯基低下头来。
“伯爵，还有个问题，”他说，“我请求您并非作为未来的共济会员，而是作为一个老实人（galanth omme），诚心诚意地回答我，您是否抛弃您从前的信念，您是否信仰上帝？”
皮埃尔沉吟起来。
“是……是啊，我信仰上帝。”他说。
“在这种情况下……”维拉尔斯基开腔了，皮埃尔打断他的话。
“是啊，我信仰上帝。”他再次地说。
“在这种情况下，我们可以上路了，”维拉尔斯基说，“我的四轮轻便马车由您享用好了。”
维拉尔斯基一路上沉默不言，他对皮埃尔所提出的问题：他应该怎么办，应该怎么回答。维拉尔斯基只是这么说：比他更受人尊敬的师兄师弟要考验他，皮埃尔只有说老实话，别无他途。
他们驶入共济会分会大厦的大门，沿着昏暗的楼梯穿过去，走进有照明设备的小前厅，在没有女仆的帮助下二人脱下皮袄。他们从前厅走进另一个房间。不知是个什么人穿着奇特的衣裳在门旁出现。维拉尔斯基向他迎面走去，用法语轻声地对他说了什么话，就走到衣柜前面，皮埃尔发现衣柜里摆着一些他从未见过的服装。维拉尔斯基从衣柜中拿出一条手绢，捂住皮埃尔的眼睛，从脑后打了一个结，抓住他的头发塞进结子里，头发被夹得很疼。然后他叫皮埃尔靠近他身边稍微弯下身子，吻了吻他，抓住他的手，把他领到什么地方去。皮埃尔觉得头发给结子扯得很疼，疼得他蹙起额角，因为他有点羞愧而面露微笑。他的身材高大，垂着一双手，满布皱纹的脸上微露笑意，他跟随维拉尔斯基迈着不稳的畏葸的脚步向前走去。
维拉尔斯基领他走了十步左右，便停住了。
“您无论发生什么事，”他说，“如果您毅然加入我们共济会，您就应当勇敢地经得住一切考验。（皮埃尔低下头，作了肯定的回答）当您听见叩门声，您就给自己解开蒙住眼睛的手绢，”维拉尔斯基补充地说：“我祝您敢作敢为，马到成功。”
于是维拉尔斯基握握皮埃尔的手，走出去了。
皮埃尔一个人留下，他仍然面带微笑。他莫约两次耸耸肩膀，把手伸去摸手绢，仿佛要把它解开，然后又放下手来。他蒙上眼睛待了五分钟，他似乎觉得过了一小时，他两手浮肿，两腿发软，好像疲倦了。他体验到各种各样的、至为复杂的感觉。他很害怕他会发生什么事，更害怕他会流露出恐惧。他好奇地想知道，他会发生什么事，有什么奥秘在他面前将被揭示出来；但是，使他至为得意的是，他终于走上革新的、热衷于道德修养的生活道路，这个时刻来临了，这是他从遇见奥西普·阿列克谢耶维奇以来日夜思慕的事情。就在此时，可以听见几阵强烈的叩门声。皮埃尔解开了绑住眼睛的手绢，环顾了四周。房间里一片漆黑：只有一处闪现出一件白色的东西，里面点燃着一盏长明灯摆在一张黑色的桌子上，一本翻开来的书放在它上头。这本书是福音书；盛着长明灯的白色的东西是带有窟窿和牙齿的颅骨。皮埃尔念完《福音书》上的头几句话以后，便从桌子旁边绕过去，看见一个装满东西的打开的大箱子。这就是装着骨头的寿坊。他所看见的东西丝毫没有使他感到惊奇。他希望进入崭新的生活领域，和过去迥然不同的生活领域，他期待着不平凡的事物，比他所看见的更不平凡的事物。颅骨、寿坊、福音书——他觉得这一切都是他所预料到的东西，他还期待着更多的东西。他环顾四周，极力地想引起他自己的怜悯心。“上帝、死亡、爱情、人们的兄弟情谊。”他对自己说，并且把这几个词和对某种事物的模糊不清的、但却令人悦意的观念联系起来。门打开了，不知是什么人走进门来。
但在皮埃尔看得习以为常的微弱的灯光下，有一个身材不高的人走进来了。显然这个人从光亮的地方走进房间后，便停步了，然后他迈开步子，小心翼翼地走到桌前，把那双戴着皮手套的小手放在桌子上。
这个身材不高的人穿着一条围住胸前和一部分下肢的白皮围裙，颈上戴着一串类似项链的东西，项链旁边露出白色的高硬领子，衬托着他那从下面被照亮的长方脸。
“您为什么走到这里来？”走进来的人听见皮埃尔的沙沙脚步声，便向他转过脸去，问道，“您这个不相信神光的真理、看不见神光的人为什么走到这里来，您向我们要什么？卓越的智慧、高尚品德、教育吗？”
当门已敞开，一个不相识的人走进来的时候，皮埃尔体验到一种恐惧和敬慕的心情，就像他在儿童时代忏悔时所体验到的心情一样：他觉得他自己和一个人单独打交道，就生活环境而论，他是陌生的，而就人的兄弟情谊而论，他是亲近的。皮埃尔的心脏跳动得几乎要屏住呼吸，他移动脚步，向修辞班教师（共济会中为求道者办理入会手续的师兄称为教师）跟前走去。皮埃尔走得更近时，认出修辞班教师就是他的熟人斯莫利亚尼诺夫，但是他想到那个走进来的人竟是熟人，心里就觉得受了侮辱，这个走进来的人只是一个师兄和有德行的教师而已。皮埃尔久久地说不出话，修辞班教师不得不重复地提出问题。
“是啊，我……我……想洗身革面，弃旧图新。”皮埃尔很费劲地说出这句话。
“很好，”斯莫利亚尼诺夫说，他立刻继续说下去，“您对我们神圣的共济会赖以帮助您达到您的目的的手段，有没有概念？……”修辞班教师心平气和地、迅速地说。
“我……希望……指导……帮助……革新，”皮埃尔说，由于心情激动，不习惯用俄国话来谈论抽象的事物，他的嗓音颤栗着，说话时觉得吃力。
“您对共济会有什么概念？”
“我的意思是说，‘共济'是有美德的人们的bratez nité①和平等，”皮埃尔说，在他说话的时候，由于他的话和庄严的时刻不相宜而感到害羞，“我的意思是……”
①法语：友爱。
“很好，”修辞班教师连忙说，看来他很满意这种回答，“您是否曾在宗教上寻找达到您的目的底方法？”
“没有，我当时认为宗教是非正义的，所以没有信奉宗教。”皮埃尔说话的声音很低，以致修辞班教师听不清楚，于是问他说什么，“我曾是一个无神论者。”皮埃尔回答。
“您寻求真理是为了在生活中遵循真理的规律，因此，您就得寻求智慧和高尚品德，是这样吗？”修辞班教师沉默半晌之后说。
“是啊，是啊。”皮埃尔承认他的话没有错。
修辞班教师咳嗽了几声，清清嗓子，把两只戴着手套的手交叉在胸前，开始说话。
“现在我应当向您坦白说出我们共济会的主旨，”他说，“如果这个宗旨符合您的目的，那末您加入我们共济会才对您有益。人类的任何力量都不能推翻我们共济会赖以建立的根基，我会的首要宗旨和根基乃在于保存并向后裔传授某种重要的玄理……从亘古，甚至从宇宙中的第一个人一直传给我们，人类的命运也许以这一玄理为转移。但因这一玄理具备有这样的特性，以致任何人都不能认识它，应用它，除非他长期地、勤奋地净化自己，努力修身养性，即使如此，亦非人人都能期待火速获致此一玄理。因此，我们具备有第二目的，此一目的乃在于，借助于那些费尽心力以探求这一玄理的社会人士所传授给我们的方法，尽可能地训练我们的会员，纠正他们的内心，净化和启迪他们的理智，从而导致他们具备领悟这一玄理的能力。第三，在净化和改造我们的会员时，我们还要千方百计地改造全人类，在我们的会员中给全人类树立虔诚和美德的典范，从而竭尽全力去反对那种把持世界的邪恶。您考虑考虑这一点，等一下我再来看您。”他说完这句话，便从房里走出去了。
“反对那种把持世界的邪恶……”皮埃尔重复地说，他脑海中想象到未来他在这个领域的活动。他也想象到那些像他自己两周以前那样的人们，他在内心中向他们道出了教训的话。他想象到那些他以言行给予帮助的有缺点的不幸的人们，他想象到那些压迫者，他从他们手上把受害者拯救出来。修辞班教师所列举的三大目的中，拯救全人类这个最终目的，皮埃尔觉得特别亲切。修辞班教师提到的一条重要玄理虽然引起他的好奇心，但是他不认为这是本质的东西，第二个目的：净化和改造自己，使他不太感兴趣，因为他在这时分高兴地感到自己完全纠正了从前的恶习，只要全心全意去行善就行。
隔了半小时，修辞班教师回来了，向求道者传达与所罗门神殿的阶梯总数相符的七条高尚品德。这七条高尚品德就是：（一）·谦·虚，保守共济会的机密；（二）·服·从本会的上级；（三）品行端正；（四）爱人类；（五）勇敢；（六）慷慨；
（七）爱献身。
“·第·七·条，”修辞班教师说，“要时常想到献身，极力地设法使您自己觉得死亡不再是可怕的敌人，而是朋友……它能把您由于修行而遭受折磨的灵魂从灾难深重的生活中解脱出来，把它领进天主赏赐的安息的场所。”
“是的，一定是这样的，”皮埃尔想，修辞班教师说完这些话后就走开了，让他独自思考一番。“一定是这样的，但是我还太脆弱，我喜爱自己的生活，我只是现在才略微领悟到生活的意义。”皮埃尔扳着指头想起了其余五条高尚品德，他心里觉得：·勇·敢、·慷·慨、·品·行·端·正、·爱·人·类、特别是·服·从，他甚至以为，服从并不是高尚品德，而是幸福。（他感到非常高兴的是，他现在能够摆脱恣意妄为的缺点，并且使他自己的意志服从于洞悉无可怀疑的真理的人们。）皮埃尔忘记了第七条高尚品德，他怎么也想不起来。
修辞班教师第三次回来得更快，他问皮埃尔，他的志向是否仍旧不变，对他要求的一切，他是否坚决服从。
“我准备贡献一切。”皮埃尔说。
“我还应当告诉您，”修辞班教师说，“我们共济会不仅是凭藉言语，而且还凭藉别的方法来传授自己的教理，这些手段比口头讲解对于真诚地寻求智慧和美德的人也许能够发挥更大的作用。如果您的心是很诚挚的，那么您所看见的这座富丽堂皇的大房子里的陈设，就比语言更有力地能向您的心灵说明一切。在今后接受您入共济会的过程中，您也许会亲眼看到这类说明问题的方式。我们共济会模仿古代会社借助于象形符号揭示教理。”修辞班教师说，“象形符号是一种不受制于情感的事物名称，它本身包函类似象征的性能。”
皮埃尔十分清楚地知道，“象形符号”指的是什么，但是他不敢说话。他沉默地倾听修辞班教师讲解，他凭各种迹象预感到考验就要开始了。
“如果您坚定不移，那末我就要开始引导您了，”修辞班教师走到皮埃尔近旁时说道，“我请您向我交出全部贵重的物品以示慷慨。”
“可是我身边没有什么东西。”皮埃尔说，他以为要他交出他所拥有的一切。
“交出您随身带着的东西：怀表、金钱、戒指……”
皮埃尔连忙掏出钱包、怀表，好大一阵子都没法从那胖乎乎的指头上取下订婚戒指。当他做完这件事，共济会员说道：
“我请您脱下衣服以示服从，”皮埃尔遵从修辞班教师的指示脱下燕尾服、坎肩和左脚穿的皮靴。共济会员掀开他的左胸前的衬衣，弯下身子，把他的左裤腿卷到膝盖以上的部位。皮埃尔想连忙脱下右脚穿的皮靴，卷起裤腿，以免让陌生人苦费这份劲儿，但是共济会员对他说，这没有必要，他于是把左脚穿的便鞋递给他了。皮埃尔脸上情不自禁地流露出儿童似的害羞、疑惑和自嘲的微笑。皮埃尔垂下双手，叉开两腿，在修辞班教师这位师兄面前站着，听候他作出新的吩咐。
“最后，我请您向我坦白地说出您的主要嗜好，藉以表示心胸坦荡。”他说。
“我的嗜好呀！·从·前我的嗜好多极了。”皮埃尔说。
“您说出那种最能使您在通往美德的道路上摇摆不定的嗜好。”共济会员说。
皮埃尔沉默半晌，思索着要说什么话。
“酗酒？饮食无度？游手好闲？懒惰？急躁？愤恨？女人？”他一面列举他自己的缺点，一面在心里加以衡量，不知道哪一点是主要缺点。
“女人，”皮埃尔用低沉的、几乎听不见的嗓音说。共济会员听见这一声回答后，他一动不动，没有开口说什么。最后他移动脚步，走到皮埃尔面前，拿起摆在桌上的手绢，又把他的眼睛蒙起来。
“我最后一次把话对您说：要将全部注意力移向您自己身上，控制自己的感情，不是在情欲之中，而是在自己内心寻找无上幸福。无上幸福的源泉不在外方，而在我们的内心……”
皮埃尔已经感觉到这种无上幸福的清泉，而今他的心灵中充满着欣喜和柔情。
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