WHILE HALF of Russia was conquered, and the inhabitants of Moscow were fleeing to remote provinces, and one levy of militia after another was being raised for the defence of the country, we, not living at the time, cannot help imagining that all the people in Russia, great and small alike, were engaged in doing nothing else but making sacrifices, saving their country, or weeping over its downfall. The tales and descriptions of that period without exception tell us of nothing but the self-sacrifice, the patriotism, the despair, the grief, and the heroism of the Russians. In reality, it was not at all like that. It seems so to us, because we see out of the past only the general historical interest of that period, and we do not see all the personal human interests of the men of that time. And yet in reality these personal interests of the immediate present are of so much greater importance than public interests, that they prevent the public interest from ever being felt—from being noticed at all, indeed. The majority of the people of that period took no heed of the general progress of public affairs, and were only influenced by their immediate personal interests. And those very people played the most useful part in the work of the time.

Those who were striving to grasp the general course of events, and trying by self-sacrifice and heroism to take a hand in it, were the most useless members of society; they saw everything upside down, and all that they did with the best intentions turned out to be useless folly, like Pierre's regiment, and Mamonov's, that spent their time pillaging the Russian villages, like the lint scraped by the ladies, that never reached the wounded, and so on. Even those who, being fond of talking on intellectual subjects and expressing their feelings, discussed the position of Russia, unconsciously imported into their talk a shade of hypocrisy or falsity or else of useless fault-finding and bitterness against persons, whom they blamed for what could be nobody's fault.

In historical events we see more plainly than ever the law that forbids us to taste of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. It is only unselfconscious activity that bears fruit, and the man who plays a part in an historical drama never understands its significance. If he strives to comprehend it, he is stricken with barrenness

The significance of the drama taking place in Russia at that time was the less easy to grasp, the closer the share a man was taking in it. In Petersburg, and in the provinces remote from Moscow, ladies and gentlemen in volunteer uniforms bewailed the fate of Russia and the ancient capital, and talked of self-sacrifice, and so on. But in the army, which had retreated behind Moscow, men scarcely talked or thought at all about Moscow, and, gazing at the burning city, no one swore to be avenged on the French, but every one was thinking of the next quarter's pay due to him, of the next halting-place, of Matryoshka the canteen-woman, and so on.

Nikolay Rostov, without any idea of self-sacrifice, simply because the war had happened to break out before he left the service, took an immediate and continuous part in the defence of his country, and consequently he looked upon what was happening in Russia without despair or gloomy prognostications. If he had been asked what he thought of the present position of Russia, he would have said that it was not his business to think about it, that that was what Kutuzov and the rest of them were for, but that he had heard that the regiments were being filled up to their full complements, and that they must therefore be going to fight for a good time longer, and that under the present circumstances he might pretty easily obtain the command of a regiment within a couple of years.

Since this was his point of view, it was with no regret at taking no part in the approaching battle, but with the greatest satisfaction—which he did not conceal, and his comrades fully understood—that he received the news of his appointment to go to Voronezh to purchase remounts for his division.

A few days before the battle of Borodino, Nikolay received the sums of money and official warrants required, and, sending some hussars on before him, he drove with posting-horses to Voronezh.

Only one who has had the same experience—that is, has spent several months continuously in the atmosphere of an army in the field—can imagine the delight Nikolay felt when he got out of the region overspread by the troops with their foraging parties, trains of provisions, and hospitals; when he saw no more soldiers, army waggons, and filthy traces of the camp, but villages of peasants and peasant women, gentlemen's country houses, fields with grazing oxen, and station-houses and sleepy overseers, he rejoiced as though he were seeing it all for the first time. What in particular remained for a long while a wonder and a joy to him was the sight of women, young and healthy, without dozens of officers hanging about every one of them; and women, too, who were pleased and flattered at an officer's cracking jokes with them.

In the happiest frame of mind, Nikolay reached the hotel at Voronezh at night, ordered everything of which he had so long been deprived in the army, and next day, after shaving with special care and putting on the full-dress uniform he had not worn for so long past, he drove off to present himself to the authorities.

The commander of the militia of the district was a civilian general, an old gentleman, who evidently found amusement in his military duties and rank. He gave Nikolay a brusque reception (supposing that this was the military manner), and cross-examining him with an important air, as though he had a right to do so, he expressed his approval and disapproval, as though called upon to give his verdict on the management of the war. Nikolay was in such high spirits that this only amused him.

From the commander of militia, he went to the governor's. The governor was a brisk little man, very affable and unpretentious. He mentioned to Nikolay the stud-farms, where he might obtain horses, recommended him to a horse-dealer in the town, and a gentleman living twenty versts from the town, who had the best horses, and promised him every assistance.

“You are Count Ilya Andreitch's son? My wife was a great friend of your mamma's. We receive on Thursdays: to-day is Thursday, pray come in, quite without ceremony,” said the governor, as he took leave of him.

Nikolay took a posting carriage, and making his quartermaster get in beside him, galloped straight off from the governor's to the gentleman with the stud of fine horses twenty versts away.

During the early days of his stay in Voronezh, everything seemed easy and pleasant to Nikolay, and, as is always the case, when a man is himself in a happy frame of mind, everything went well and prospered with him.

The country gentleman turned out to be an old cavalry officer, a bachelor, a great horse-fancier, a sportsman, and the owner of a smoking-room, of hundred-year-old herb-brandy, of some old Hungarian wine, and of superb horses.

In a couple of words, Nikolay had bought for six thousand roubles seventeen stallions, all perfect examples of their several breeds (as he said), as show specimens of his remounts. After dining and drinking a glass or so too much of the Hungarian wine, Rostov, exchanging kisses with the country gentleman, with whom he was already on the friendliest terms, galloped back over the most atrociously bad road in the happiest frame of mind, continually urging the driver on, so that he might be in time for the soirée at the governor's.

After dressing, scenting himself, and douching his head with cold water, Nikolay made his appearance at the governor's, a little late, but with the phrase, “Better late than never,” ready on the tip of his tongue.

It was not a ball, and nothing had been said about dancing; but every one knew that Katerina Petrovna would play waltzes and écossaises on the clavichord, and that there would be dancing, and every one reckoning on it, had come dressed for a ball.

Provincial life in the year 1812 went on exactly the same as always, the only difference being that the provincial towns were livelier owing to the presence of many wealthy families from Moscow, that, as in everything going on at that time in Russia, there was perceptible in the gaiety a certain devil-may-care, desperate recklessness, and also that the small talk indispensable between people was now not about the weather and common acquaintances, but about Moscow and the army and Napoleon.

The gathering at the governor's consisted of the best society in Voronezh.

There were a great many ladies, among them several Moscow acquaintances of Nikolay's; but among the men there was no one who could be compared with the cavalier of St. George, the gallant hussar, the good-natured, well-bred Count Rostov. Among the men there was an Italian prisoner—an officer of the French army; and Nikolay felt that the presence of this prisoner gave an added lustre to him—the Russian hero. He was, as it were, a trophy of victory. Nikolay felt this, and it seemed to him as though every one looked at the Italian in the same light, and he treated the foreign officer with gracious dignity and reserve.

As soon as Nikolay came in in his full-dress uniform of an officer of hussars, diffusing a fragrance of scent and wine about him, and said himself and heard several times said to him, the words, “Better late than never,” people clustered round him. All eyes were turned on him, and he felt at once that he had stepped into a position that just suited him in a provincial town—a position always agreeable, but now after his long privation of such gratifications, intoxicatingly delightful—that of a universal favourite. Not only at the posting-stations, at the taverns, and in the smoking-room of the horse-breeding gentleman, had he found servant-girls flattered by his attention, but here, at the governor's assembly, there were (so it seemed to Nikolay) an inexhaustible multitude of young married ladies and pretty girls, who were only waiting with impatience for him to notice them. The ladies and the young girls flirted with him, and the old people began even from this first evening bestirring themselves to try and get this gallant young rake of an hussar married and settled down. Among the latter was the governor's wife herself, who received Rostov as though he were a near kinsman, and called him “Nikolay.”

Katerina Petrovna did in fact proceed to play waltzes and écossaises, and dancing began, in which Nikolay fascinated the company more than ever by his elegance. He surprised every one indeed by his peculiarly free and easy style in dancing. Nikolay was a little surprised himself at his own style of dancing at that soirée. He had never danced in that manner at Moscow, and would indeed have regarded such an extremely free and easy manner of dancing as not correct, as bad style; but here he felt it incumbent on him to astonish them all by something extraordinary, something that they would be sure to take for the usual thing in the capital, though new to them in the provinces.

All the evening Nikolay paid the most marked attention to a blue-eyed, plump, and pleasing little blonde, the wife of one of the provincial officials. With the na?ve conviction of young men who are enjoying themselves, that other men's wives are created for their special benefit, Rostov never left this lady's side, and treated her husband in a friendly way, almost as though there were a private understanding between them, as though they knew without speaking of it how capitally they, that is, how Nikolay and the wife, would get on. The husband did not, however, appear to share this conviction, and tried to take a gloomy tone with Rostov. But Nikolay's good-humoured na?veté was so limitless that at times the husband could not help being drawn into his gay humour. Towards the end of the evening, however, as the wife's face grew more flushed and animated, the husband's grew steadily more melancholy and stolid, as though they had a given allowance of liveliness between them, and as the wife's increased, the husband's dwindled.

在俄国一半国土被占领，莫斯科居民逃往边远省份，各地民团相继起来保卫祖国的时候，我们这些并非生长于那一时代的人们，会自然而然地设想，全体俄国民众，从大人到小孩，都一心想牺牲自己、拯救祖国、或痛哭祖国的沦陷。关于那一时代的故事和记载莫能例外地只讲讲牺牲精神，爱国热情，失望，痛苦，和英勇行为。但实际上并非如此。事情照我们看来之所以是那个样子，仅由于我们从已发生的事情当中，看到的只是对那一时代总的历史兴趣，而未看到所有人们具有的个人的兴趣。然而实际上呢，那些属于个人眼前的兴趣大大超过共同的兴趣，以至有时感觉不到（甚至毫不察觉）共同的兴趣。那时的大多数民众，丝毫不注意历史的总的进程，只以每个人眼前的个人兴趣为准则。而这些民众正是那一时代最有用的活动家们。

那些试图理解天下大事所趋，并想以自我牺牲和英勇作战行为去参与天下大事的人们，是社会中最无用的成员；他们看到的一切是颠倒的，他们为公益所做的一切到头来都是无益的胡闹，就像皮埃尔兵团和马莫诺夫兵团①抢劫俄国的农村，后方太太小姐撕布抽纱卷成的棉线团永远到不了伤员那里等等。甚至爱卖弄聪明、表露感情的人，一议论俄国局势时，也会不自觉地在言谈中带有虚伪和撒谎的痕迹，或者无益于事地指责和痛恨某些不能任其咎的人们。在历史事件中，最明显不过的是禁止偷尝智慧之果。只有无心插柳，方能带来一片绿荫，而在历史事件中扮演主角的人，永远不能明了个中的涵义。如果他试图去理解，他会遭到劳而无功的失败。

①指由这两人捐助而成立的两个兵团。

与这时在俄国发生的事件愈是密切有关的人，便愈难察觉其意义。在彼得堡和远离莫斯科的一些省份，妇女和穿义勇军制服的男人为俄国及其古都而哭泣，声称不惜牺牲等等；但在放弃了莫斯科的军队里面，则几乎没有人谈论，也没有人思念莫斯科，而在望着它那一片大火时，谁也不起誓向法国人复仇，却想着下一旬的军饷，下一个宿誓地，随军女商贩玛特廖什卡诸如此类的事情……

尼古拉·罗斯托夫并未抱定自我牺牲的宗旨，由于在服役期间碰上战争，便持续地自愿参加保卫祖国的战争，因此，他对俄国当时的情况不感到失望，没有忧郁的思想。如果有人问起他对俄国此时势的看法，他会说他没有什么可考虑的，考虑这些事的有库图佐夫和其他人，而他说，正在补足团的编制，看样子仗还要打很久，照目前的样子下去，再有一两年让他带上一个团是不足为怪的。

正因为他如此看问题，他在得知奉派去沃罗涅日为他的那一师补充军马时，他不但不为不能参加临近的战斗而感到难过，而且非常高兴，他对此并不掩饰，他的同事也充分了解他这种心情。

在波罗底诺战役前几天，尼古拉领到经费和文件，派出一个骠骑兵先行，嗣后他乘驿马到沃罗涅日去了。

一个人只有一连数月不断地处于军旅和战斗生活气氛中，方能体会到尼古拉此时所享受的那种欢乐：他从部队筹集粮秣，运送军粮和设置野战医院的那一地区脱身出来；他现在看见的不再是士兵、大车和污秽的军营，而是农夫农妇的乡村，乡绅的住宅，放牧畜群的田野，驿站和酣然入睡的驿站长，他就像第一次看到这一切情形那样高兴。特别使他长久地惊讶和愉快的是，他见到的女人们年轻而健康，她们之中没有一个不是被十来个军官追求的，她们都以这个过路军官与她们调笑而感到高兴和得宠。

心情极为愉快的尼古拉于晚间抵达沃罗涅日一家旅馆，要了一顿他在部队很久没有供应的东西，第二天脸刮得干干净净，穿上久未穿着的检阅服装，去见各首长。

民团长官是文职将军，一个老头子，显然很得意于自己的军阶和官职。他生气地（以为这是军人本色）接见了尼古拉，意味深长地盘问了尼古拉，好似他有权这样做又以为是在审议大局。尼古拉很高兴，只觉得这使他很开心

他从民团长官那里直接去见省长，省长是一位矮小而活跃的人，十分温良和纯朴。他告诉尼古拉一些可以搞到马匹的养马场，介绍他去找一位城里的马贩子和离城二十俄里的一位地主（他们都有良种马），并允诺尽力协助。

“您是伊利亚·安德烈耶维奇伯爵的公子？我妻子同您的妈妈很要好的呢。每逢星期四我家有聚会；今天就是星期四，请不拘礼节地前来赏光。”省长和他告辞时说。

一离开省长那里，尼古拉随即雇了一辆驿车，带上司务长乘车直奔二十俄里外的地主养马场。当这初来乍到沃罗涅日的这段时间，尼古拉是轻松愉快的，一个人心情好时，一切都称心如意。

尼古拉要去找的那位地主是一个老单身汉，当过骑兵，又是养马内行和猎手，他有一间吸烟室，窖藏百年果酒和匈牙利葡萄酒，拥有稀有品种的马匹。

尼古拉三言两语就以六千卢布买下十七匹精选（如他所说）的种马，作为补充马匹的样品。罗斯托夫吃过午饭、又稍微留了点匈牙利葡萄酒以后，同那个在已用“你”来称呼的地主亲吻告别。一路上怀着愉快的心情不停地催促车夫，急驰回城，以便赶赴省长家的晚会。

尼古拉换过衣服，洒山香水，用冷水淋洗过脑袋，他虽然迟到一点，但却想好了一句现成的托辞：vautmieuxtardquejamais（迟到比不到好），来到省长家。

这不是舞会，也没说过要跳舞；但大家都知道卡捷琳娜·彼得罗夫娜将在翼琴上演奏华尔兹和苏格兰舞曲，会有人跳舞，预料到这点，所以大家都照赴舞会的样子来了。

一八一二年，外省生活仍一如往常，区别仅在于，城里随着许多殷实富户从莫斯科到来就更为热闹；并且，在俄国当时所发生的一切事情么，可以察觉出某种不受拘束的特殊作风——什么都毫不在乎，一切都大而化之；再就是，人们之间不可避免的闲谈，先前是围绕天气和共同的熟人，现在则转向莫斯科、军队、和拿破仑。

聚会在省长家的人们，是沃罗涅日的精华社会。

那里有许多太太小姐，也有几个尼古拉的莫斯科的相识；但是，能同佩戴圣乔治勋章的骑士、骠骑兵、采购马匹的军官、性格好、教养也好的罗斯托夫伯爵相匹敌的男人，却一个也没有。在男人们中间，有一个被俘的意大利人，是法军的军官，尼古拉因而觉得，这位俘虏的在场更提高了他作为俄国英雄的地位。那个意大利人宛如一种战利品。尼古拉有此感觉，同时在他看来，人人也都是这样看待那个意大利人，所以，尼古拉以尊严和矜持的态度照顾着他。

身着骠骑兵制服，周身散发出香水和酒的气味的尼古拉，一走进来便说了一句，并且也听到别人对他说了几遍“vautmieusxtardquejamais”（迟到比不到好），之后便被包围起来；所有的目光都朝向他，使他立即感受到他已进入他在那一省的适当地位——那向来愉快的，如今又在经过长期困苦生活之后陶醉于满足之中的，众人宠爱的地位。不仅在驿站、旅馆和那地主的吸烟室里有贪图他垂照的女仆；而且在这里，在省长的晚会上，也有（尼古拉觉得是那样）数不清的年轻女士和姣好的姑娘急不可耐地等着尼古拉的青睐。女士和姑娘们同他调情，老年人从见到他的第一天起，便张罗着使这位骠骑兵青年浪子完婚和安家立业，使他变得稳重起来，这些人中，便有省长夫人本身，她把罗斯托夫当成自己的近亲，用“尼古拉”和“你”称呼他。（尼古拉用的是法语Nicolas）

卡捷琳娜·彼得罗夫娜果然弹起华尔兹和苏格兰舞曲，跳舞也就开始了，尼古拉在跳舞中的灵活，更使这个外省社会着迷。他那独特不拘的舞姿甚至使大家吃惊。尼古拉本人对自己这天晚上的舞风也有些惊讶。他在莫斯科从未这样跳过舞，他甚至认为这样过于随便的姿势是无礼的，是mauvaisgenre（坏样子）；但在这里，他感到必须用一种非同寻常的花样使本地人士吓一大跳，即是一种在新老首都被他们视为寻常的，而在他们外省还未见识过的东西。

整个晚上，尼古拉最为注意的是一位碧眼、身段丰满、俊俏的金发女人，一位省里官员的妻子。怀着无边欢乐的年轻人以为别人的太太都是为他们天造地设的这种天真的信念，罗斯托夫没有离开过那位夫人，并且友好地、有点默契地应酬她的丈夫，好像他们虽不言明，但心里知道，他们情投意合，是多么美妙的一对，他们即是尼古拉和这位丈夫的妻子。但是，丈夫似乎无此看法，而是忧郁地尽量应付罗斯托夫。但是尼古拉的善良和天真则无边无际，使得丈夫有时不知不觉地受到他愉快心情的感染。不过，在晚会临近结束时，随着妻子的脸色愈来愈红润，愈来愈兴奋，丈夫的脸孔却愈来愈阴沉，愈来愈严峻，仿佛两人共享一份欢乐，妻子身上增加一些，丈夫身上便减少下来。