Book Nine: 1812 - Chapter XVII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Natasha was calmer but no happier. She not merely avoided allexternal forms of pleasure- balls, promenades, concerts, and theaters-but she never laughed without a sound of tears in her laughter. Shecould not sing. As soon as she began to laugh, or tried to sing byherself, tears choked her: tears of remorse, tears at the recollectionof those pure times which could never return, tears of vexation thatshe should so uselessly have ruined her young life which might havebeen so happy. Laughter and singing in particular seemed to her like ablasphemy, in face of her sorrow. Without any need ofself-restraint, no wish to coquet ever entered her head. She saidand felt at that time that no man was more to her than NastasyaIvanovna, the buffoon. Something stood sentinel within her and forbadeher every joy. Besides, she had lost all the old interests of hercarefree girlish life that had been so full of hope. The previousautumn, the hunting, "Uncle," and the Christmas holidays spent withNicholas at Otradnoe were what she recalled oftenest and mostpainfully. What would she not have given to bring back even a singleday of that time! But it was gone forever. Her presentiment at thetime had not deceived her- that that state of freedom and readinessfor any enjoyment would not return again. Yet it was necessary to liveon.

　　It comforted her to reflect that she was not better as she hadformerly imagined, but worse, much worse, than anybody else in theworld. But this was not enough. She knew that, and asked herself,"What next?" But there was nothing to come. There was no joy inlife, yet life was passing. Natasha apparently tried not to be aburden or a hindrance to anyone, but wanted nothing for herself. Shekept away from everyone in the house and felt at ease only with herbrother Petya. She liked to be with him better than with the others,and when alone with him she sometimes laughed. She hardly ever leftthe house and of those who came to see them was glad to see only oneperson, Pierre. It would have been impossible to treat her with moredelicacy, greater care, and at the same time more seriously than didCount Bezukhov. Natasha unconsciously felt this delicacy and sofound great pleasure in his society. But she was not even gratefulto him for it; nothing good on Pierre's part seemed to her to be aneffort, it seemed so natural for him to be kind to everyone that therewas no merit in his kindness. Sometimes Natasha noticedembarrassment and awkwardness on his part in her presence,especially when he wanted to do something to please her, or fearedthat something they spoke of would awaken memories distressing to her.She noticed this and attributed it to his general kindness andshyness, which she imagined must be the same toward everyone as it wasto her. After those involuntary words- that if he were free he wouldhave asked on his knees for her hand and her love- uttered at a momentwhen she was so strongly agitated, Pierre never spoke to Natasha ofhis feelings; and it seemed plain to her that those words, which hadthen so comforted her, were spoken as all sorts of meaningless wordsare spoken to comfort a crying child. It was not because Pierre wasa married man, but because Natasha felt very strongly with him thatmoral barrier the absence of which she had experienced with Kuraginthat it never entered her head that the relations between him andherself could lead to love on her part, still less on his, or evento the kind of tender, self-conscious, romantic friendship between aman and a woman of which she had known several instances.

　　Before the end of the fast of St. Peter, Agrafena Ivanovna Belova, acountry neighbor of the Rostovs, came to Moscow to pay her devotionsat the shrines of the Moscow saints. She suggested that Natasha shouldfast and prepare for Holy Communion, and Natasha gladly welcomed theidea. Despite the doctor's orders that she should not go out earlyin the morning, Natasha insisted on fasting and preparing for thesacrament, not as they generally prepared for it in the Rostovfamily by attending three services in their own house, but as AgrafenaIvanovna did, by going to church every day for a week and not oncemissing Vespers, Matins, or Mass.

　　The countess was pleased with Natasha's zeal; after the poor resultsof the medical treatment, in the depths of her heart she hoped thatprayer might help her daughter more than medicines and, though notwithout fear and concealing it from the doctor, she agreed toNatasha's wish and entrusted her to Belova. Agrafena Ivanovna usedto come to wake Natasha at three in the morning, but generally foundher already awake. She was afraid of being late for Matins. Hastilywashing, and meekly putting on her shabbiest dress and an oldmantilla, Natasha, shivering in the fresh air, went out into thedeserted streets lit by the clear light of dawn. By AgrafenaIvanovna's advice Natasha prepared herself not in their own parish,but at a church where, according to the devout Agrafena Ivanovna,the priest was a man of very severe and lofty life. There were nevermany people in the church; Natasha always stood beside Belova in thecustomary place before an icon of the Blessed Virgin, let into thescreen before the choir on the left side, and a feeling, new to her,of humility before something great and incomprehensible, seized herwhen at that unusual morning hour, gazing at the dark face of theVirgin illuminated by the candles burning before it and by the morninglight falling from the window, she listened to the words of theservice which she tried to follow with understanding. When sheunderstood them her personal feeling became interwoven in theprayers with shades of its own. When she did not understand, it wassweeter still to think that the wish to understand everything ispride, that it is impossible to understand all, that it is onlynecessary to believe and to commit oneself to God, whom she feltguiding her soul at those moments. She crossed herself, bowed low, andwhen she did not understand, in horror at her own vileness, simplyasked God to forgive her everything, everything, to have mercy uponher. The prayers to which she surrendered herself most of all werethose of repentance. On her way home at an early hour when she metno one but bricklayers going to work or men sweeping the street, andeverybody within the houses was still asleep, Natasha experienced afeeling new to her, a sense of the possibility of correcting herfaults, the possibility of a new, clean life, and of happiness.

　　During the whole week she spent in this way, that feeling grew everyday. And the happiness of taking communion, or "communing" as AgrafenaIvanovna, joyously playing with the word, called it, seemed to Natashaso great that she felt she should never live till that blessed Sunday.

　　But the happy day came, and on that memorable Sunday, when,dressed in white muslin, she returned home after communion, for thefirst time for many months she felt calm and not oppressed by thethought of the life that lay before her.

　　The doctor who came to see her that day ordered her to continuethe powders he had prescribed a fortnight previously.

　　"She must certainly go on taking them morning and evening," said he,evidently sincerely satisfied with his success. "Only, please beparticular about it.

　　"Be quite easy," he continued playfully, as he adroitly took thegold coin in his palm. "She will soon be singing and frolicking about.The last medicine has done her a very great deal of good. She hasfreshened up very much."

　　The countess, with a cheerful expression on her face, looked down ather nails and spat a little for luck as she returned to the drawingroom.