He had left home only to escape the intricate tangle of life'sdemands that enmeshed him, and which in his present condition he wasunable to unravel. He had gone to Joseph Alexeevich's house, on theplea of sorting the deceased's books and papers, only in search ofrest from life's turmoil, for in his mind the memory of JosephAlexeevich was connected with a world of eternal, solemn, and calmthoughts, quite contrary to the restless confusion into which hefelt himself being drawn. He sought a quiet refuge, and in JosephAlexeevich's study he really found it. When he sat with his elbowson the dusty writing table in the deathlike stillness of the study,calm and significant memories of the last few days rose one afteranother in his imagination, particularly of the battle of Borodino andof that vague sense of his own insignificance and insincerity comparedwith the truth, simplicity, and strength of the class of men hementally classed as they. When Gerasim roused him from his reverie theidea occurred to him of taking part in the popular defense of Moscowwhich he knew was projected. And with that object he had asked Gerasimto get him a peasant's coat and a pistol, confiding to him hisintentions of remaining in Joseph Alexeevich's house and keeping hisname secret. Then during the first day spent in inaction andsolitude (he tried several times to fix his attention on the Masonicmanuscripts, but was unable to do so) the idea that had previouslyoccurred to him of the cabalistic significance of his name inconnection with Bonaparte's more than once vaguely presented itself.But the idea that he, L'russe Besuhof, was destined to set a limitto the power of the Beast was as yet only one of the fancies thatoften passed through his mind and left no trace behind.

　　When, having bought the coat merely with the object of taking partamong the people in the defense of Moscow, Pierre had met theRostovs and Natasha had said to him: "Are you remaining inMoscow?... How splendid!" the thought flashed into his mind that itreally would be a good thing, even if Moscow were taken, for him toremain there and do what he was predestined to do.

　　Next day, with the sole idea of not sparing himself and notlagging in any way behind them, Pierre went to the Three Hills gate.But when he returned to the house convinced that Moscow would not bedefended, he suddenly felt that what before had seemed to him merely apossibility had now become absolutely necessary and inevitable. Hemust remain in Moscow, concealing his name, and must meet Napoleon andkill him, and either perish or put an end to the misery of all Europe-which it seemed to him was solely due to Napoleon.

　　Pierre knew all the details of the attempt on Bonaparte's life in1809 by a German student in Vienna, and knew that the student had beenshot. And the risk to which he would expose his life by carrying outhis design excited him still more.

　　Two equally strong feelings drew Pierre irresistibly to thispurpose. The first was a feeling of the necessity of sacrifice andsuffering in view of the common calamity, the same feeling that hadcaused him to go to Mozhaysk on the twenty-fifth and to make his wayto the very thick of the battle and had now caused him to run awayfrom his home and, in place of the luxury and comfort to which hewas accustomed, to sleep on a hard sofa without undressing and eat thesame food as Gerasim. The other was that vague and quite Russianfeeling of contempt for everything conventional, artificial, andhuman- for everything the majority of men regard as the greatestgood in the world. Pierre had first experienced this strange andfascinating feeling at the Sloboda Palace, when he had suddenly feltthat wealth, power, and life- all that men so painstakingly acquireand guard- if it has any worth has so only by reason the joy withwhich it can all be renounced.