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ed in the nick of time。” “ ‘Everything comes in time for him who knows how to wait；’ ” he said； quoting the French proverb。 “And there were as many counsellors there as here； …” he went on； returning to the superfluity of advisers； a subject which evidently occupied his mind。 “Ugh； counsellors and counsellors！” he said。 “If we had listened to all of them； we should be in Turkey now。 We should not have made peace； and the war would never have been over。 Always in haste； and more haste； worse speed。 Kamensky would have come to grief there； if he hadn’t died。 He went storming fortresses with thirty thousand men。 It’s easy enough to take fortresses； but it’s hard to finish off a campaign successfully。 Storms and attacks are not what’s wanted； but time and patience。 Kamensky sent his soldiers to attack Rustchuk； but I trusted to them alone—time and patience—and I took more fortresses than Kamensky； and made the Turks eat horseflesh！” He shook his head。 “And the French shall； too。 Take my word for it；” cried Kutuzov； growing warmer and slapping himself on the chest； “I’ll make them eat horseflesh！” And again his eye was dim with tears。
“We shall have to give battle； though； shan’t we？” said Prince Andrey。
“We must； if every one wants to； there is no help for it。… But； mark my words； my dear boy！ The strongest of all warriors are these two—time and patience。 They do it all； and our wise counsellors n’entendent pas de cette oreille； voilà le mal。 Some say ay； and some say no。 What’s one to do？” he asked； evidently expecting a reply。 “Come； what would you have me do？” he repeated； and his eyes twinkled with a profound； shrewd expression。 “I’ll tell you what to do；” he said； since Prince Andrey still did not answer。 “I’ll tell you what to do； and what I do。 Dans le doute； mon cher”—he paused—“abstiens…toi。” He articulated deliberately the French saying。
“Well； good…bye； my dear。 Remember； with all my heart； I feel for your sorrow； and that for you I’m not his highness； nor prince； nor commander…in…chief； but simply a father to you。 If you want anything； come straight to me。 Good…bye； my dear boy！” Again he embraced and kissed him。
And before Prince Andrey had closed the door； Kutuzov settled himself comfortably with a sigh； and renewed the unfinished novel of Madame Genlis； Les Chevaliers du Cygne。
How； and why it was； Prince Andrey could not explain； but after this interview with Kutuzov； he went back to his regiment feeling reassured as to the future course of the war； and as to the man to whom its guidance was intrusted。 The more clearly he perceived the absence of everything personal in the old leader； who seemed to have nothing left of his own but habits of passions； and instead of an intellect grasping events and making plans； had only the capacity for the calm contemplation of the course of events； the more confident he felt that all would be as it should be。 “He will put in nothing of himself。 He will contrive nothing； will undertake nothing；” thought Prince Andrey； “but he will hear everything； will think of everything； will put everything in its place； will not hinder anything that could be of use； and will not allow anything that could do harm。 He knows that there is something stronger and more important than his will—that is the inevitable march of events； and he can see them； can grasp their significance； and； seeing their significance； can abstain from meddling； from following his own will； and aiming at something else。 And the chief reason；” thought Prince Andrey； “why one believes in him is that he’s Russian； in spite of Madame Genlis’s novel and the French proverbs； that his voice shook when he said； ‘What we have been brought to！’ and that he choked when he said ‘he would make them eat horseflesh！’ ”
It was this feeling； more or less consciously shared by all； that determined the unanimous approval given to the appointment of Kutuzov to the chief command； in accordance with national sentiment； and in opposition to the intrigues at court。
Chapter 17
AFTER THE TSAR had left Moscow； the life of that city flowed on in its old accustomed channel； and the current of that life ran so much as usual that it was difficult to remember the days of patriotic fervour and enthusiasm； and hard to believe that Russia actually was in danger； and that the members of the English club were also her devoted sons； ready to make any sacrifice for her sake。 The one thing that recalled the general patriotic fervour of the days of the Tsar’s presence in Moscow was the call for contributions of men and money； and these demands were presented at once in a legal； official form； so that they seemed inevitable。 As the enemy drew nearer to Moscow the attitude taken by its inhabitants in regard to their position did not become more serious； but； on the contrary； more frivolous； as is always the case with people who see a great danger approaching。 At the approach of danger there are always two voices that speak with equal force in the heart of man： one very reasonably tells the man to consider the nature of the danger and the means of avoiding it； the other even more reasonably says that it is too painful and harassing to think of the danger； since it is not in a man’s power to provide for everything and escape from the general march of events； and that it is therefore better to turn aside from the painful subject till it has come； and to think of what is pleasant。 In solitude a man generally yields to the first voice； in society to the second。 So it was now with the inhabitants of Moscow。 It was long since there had been so much gaiety in Moscow as that year。
Rastoptchin’s posters； with a print at the top of a gin…shop； a potman； and the Moscow artisan； Karpushka Tchigirin； “who； having gone into the militia； heard that Bonaparte meant to come to Moscow； was mightily wroth thereat； used very bad language about all the French； came out of the gin…shop and began to address the people assembled under the eagles；” were as much read and discussed as the last bouts rimés of Vassily Lvovitch Pushkin。
In the corner room of the club the members gathered together to read these posters； and some liked the way Karpushka was made to jeer at the French； saying that “they would be blown out with Russian cabbage； that Russian porridge would rip their guts open； and cabbage soup would finish them off； that they were all dwarfs； and a village lass could toss three of them on her pitchfork single…handed！”
Some people did not approve of this tone； and said it was vulgar and stupid。 People said that Rastoptchin had sent all Frenchmen； and even foreigners； out of Moscow； and that there had been spies and agents of Napoleon among them。 But they talked of this principally in order to repeat the witticisms uttered by Rastoptchin on the occasion。 The foreigners had been put on a barque sailing to Nizhny； and Rastoptchin had said to them： “Keep yourselves to yourselves； get into the barque； and take care it does not become the barque of Charon to you。” People talked too of all the government offices having been removed from Moscow； and added Shinshin’s joke； that for that alone Moscow ought to be