Chapter 15

           

           Thestores,theprisoners,andthemarshal’sbaggagetrainstoppedatthevillageofShámshevo.Themencrowdedtogetherroundthecampfires.Pierrewentuptothefire,atesomeroasthorseflesh,laydownwithhisbacktothefire,andimmediatelyfellasleep.HeagainsleptashehaddoneatMozháyskafterthebattleofBorodinó.

           Againrealeventsmingledwithdreamsandagainsomeone,heoranother,gaveexpressiontohisthoughts,andeventothesamethoughtsthathadbeenexpressedinhisdreamatMozháysk.

           “Lifeiseverything.LifeisGod.EverythingchangesandmovesandthatmovementisGod.Andwhilethereislifethereisjoyinconsciousnessofthedivine.TolovelifeistoloveGod.Harderandmoreblessedthanallelseistolovethislifeinone’ssufferings,ininnocentsufferings.”

           “Karatáev!”cametoPierre’smind.

           Andsuddenlyhesawvividlybeforehimalong-forgotten,kindlyoldmanwhohadgivenhimgeographylessonsinSwitzerland.“Waitabit,”saidtheoldman,andshowedPierreaglobe.Thisglobewasalive—avibratingballwithoutfixeddimensions.Itswholesurfaceconsistedofdropscloselypressedtogether,andallthesedropsmovedandchangedplaces,sometimesseveralofthemmergingintoone,sometimesonedividingintomany.Eachdroptriedtospreadoutandoccupyasmuchspaceaspossible,butothersstrivingtodothesamecompressedit,sometimesdestroyedit,andsometimesmergedwithit.

           “Thatislife,”saidtheoldteacher.

           “Howsimpleandclearitis,”thoughtPierre.

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