so."

Pierre had none of the practical persistence that would have enabled him
to attend to the business himself and so he disliked it and only tried
to pretend to the steward that he was attending to it. The steward
for his part tried to pretend to the count that he considered these
consultations very valuable for the proprietor and troublesome to
himself.

In Kiev Pierre found some people he knew, and strangers hastened to make
his acquaintance and joyfully welcomed the rich newcomer, the
largest landowner of the province. Temptations to Pierre's greatest
weakness--the one to which he had confessed when admitted to the
Lodge--were so strong that he could not resist them. Again whole days,
weeks, and months of his life passed in as great a rush and were as much
occupied with evening parties, dinners, lunches, and balls, giving him
no time for reflection, as in Petersburg. Instead of the new life he had
hoped to lead he still lived the old life, only in new surroundings.

Of the three precepts of Freemasonry Pierre realized that he did not
fulfill the one which enjoined every Mason to set an example of moral
life, and that of the seven virtues he lacked two--morality and the love
of death. He consoled himself with the thought that he fulfilled
another of the precepts--that of reforming the human race--and had other
virtues--love of his neighbor, and especially generosity.

In the spring of 1807 he decided to return to Petersburg. On the way he
intended to visit all his estates and see for himself how far his orders
had been carried out and in what state were the serfs whom God had
entrusted to his care and whom he intended to benefit.

The chief steward, who considered the young count's attempts almost
insane--unprofitable to himself, to the count, and to the serfs--made
some concessions. Continuing to represent the liberation of the serfs as
impracticable, he arranged for the erection of large buildings--schools,
hospitals, and asylums--on all the estates before the master arrived.
Everywhere preparations were made not for ceremonious welcomes (which
he knew Pierre would not like), but for just such gratefully religious
ones, with offerings of icons and the bread and salt of hospitality,
as, according to his understanding of his master, would touch and delude
him.

The southern spring, the comfortable rapid traveling in a Vienna
carriage, and the solitude of the road, all had a gladdening effect on
Pierre. The e