Pierre had been three months already choosing a career and had not yet made his choice. It was of this choice Prince Andrey spoke to him now. Pierre rubbed his forehead.

“But he must be a freemason,” he said, meaning the abbé he had seen that evening.

“That’s all nonsense,” Prince Andrey pulled him up again; “we’d better talk of serious things. Have you been to the Horse Guards?”

“No, I haven’t; but this is what struck me and I wanted to talk to you about it. This war now is against Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom, I could have understood it, I would have been the first to go into the army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in the world—that’s not right.”

Prince Andrey simply shrugged his shoulders at Pierre’s childish words. He looked as though one really could not answer such absurdities. But in reality it was hard to find any answer to this naïve question other than the answer Prince Andrey made. “If every one would only fight for his own convictions, there’d be no war,” he said.

“And a very good thing that would be too,” said Pierre.

Prince Andrey smiled ironically. “Very likely it would be a good thing, but it will never come to pass…”

“Well, what are you going to the war for?” asked Pierre.

“What for? I don’t know. Because I have to. Besides, I’m going…” he stopped. “I’m going because the life I lead here, this life is—not to my taste!”