During the first part of his stay in Petersburg, Prince Andrei felt the whole cast of thought he had formed in his solitary life completely overshadowed by the petty cares that engulfed him in Petersburg.

In the evening, on returning home, he would note down in his memorandum book four or five indispensable visits or rendez-vous at appointed hours. The mechanism of life, the arrangement of the day so as to be everywhere on time, took the greater part of his very vital energy. He did nothing, did not even think about anything and had no time to think, but only talked, and talked with success, of what he had had time to think over earlier in the country.

He sometimes noticed with displeasure that it happened to him, on one and the same day, in different companies, to repeat the same thing. But he was so busy all day long that he had no time to reflect that he was thinking of nothing.

Speransky — both at his first meeting with him at Kochubey's, and afterwards on the Wednesday at home, where Speransky, having received Bolkonsky tête-à-tête, talked with him long and confidentially — made a strong impression on Prince Andrei.

Prince Andrei considered such an enormous number of people to be contemptible and insignificant beings, and he so wished to find in another the living ideal of that perfection toward which he strove, that he readily believed that in Speransky he had found this ideal of a fully rational and virtuous man. Had Speransky been of the same society as Prince Andrei, of the same upbringing and moral habits, Bolkonsky would soon have found his weak, human, unheroic sides; but as it was, this logical cast of mind, strange to him, inspired the more respect because he did not fully understand it. Moreover, Speransky — whether because he appreciated Prince Andrei's abilities, or because he found it necessary to win him over — Speransky displayed before Prince Andrei his impartial, calm intellect and flattered Prince Andrei with that subtle flattery, combined with self-assurance, which consists in the tacit acknowledgment of one's companion, together with oneself, as the only man capable of understanding all the stupidity of everyone else, and the reasonableness and depth of one's own thoughts.

During their long conversation on Wednesday evening, Speransky said more than once: "With us they look on everything that rises above the common level of inveterate habit..." or, with a smile: "But we want the wolves to be fed and the sheep kept whole..." or: "They cannot understand this..." and all with an expression that said: "We — you and I — we understand what they are and who we are."

This first long conversation with Speransky only strengthened in Prince Andrei the feeling with which he had first beheld Speransky. He saw in him a rational, strictly thinking man of vast intellect, who had attained power by energy and persistence and was using it only for the good of Russia. In Prince Andrei's eyes Speransky was precisely that man, rationally explaining all the phenomena of life, recognizing as real only what was rational, and able to apply to everything the measure of rationality — which he himself so wished to be. Everything appeared so simple and clear in Speransky's exposition that Prince Andrei involuntarily agreed with him in everything. If he objected and argued, it was only because he deliberately wished to be independent and not submit entirely to Speransky's opinions. Everything was so, everything was well, but one thing disconcerted Prince Andrei: this was the cold, mirror-like gaze of Speransky, which let no one into his soul, and his white, delicate hand, at which Prince Andrei involuntarily looked, as one usually looks at the hands of people who hold power. The mirror-like gaze and that delicate hand for some reason irritated Prince Andrei. He was also unpleasantly struck by too great a contempt for people, which he noticed in Speransky, and by the diversity of methods in the proofs he adduced in support of his opinions. He employed every possible instrument of thought, excluding comparison, and passed too boldly, as it seemed to Prince Andrei, from one to another. Now he took the ground of a practical man of affairs and condemned dreamers, now that of a satirist and mocked his opponents ironically, now he became strictly logical, now suddenly rose into the realm of metaphysics. (This last instrument of proof he employed particularly often.) He would transfer the question to metaphysical heights, pass into definitions of space, time, and thought, and, bringing thence his refutations, descend again to the ground of the argument.

In general, the chief trait of Speransky's mind that struck Prince Andrei was his undoubted, unshakable faith in the power and legitimacy of reason. It was evident that Speransky could never be visited by the thought, ordinary to Prince Andrei, that one cannot after all express all that one thinks; and that he never felt the doubt: is not all that I think, and all that I believe, nonsense? And it was precisely this peculiar cast of Speransky's mind that most of all attracted Prince Andrei to him.

During the first period of his acquaintance with Speransky, Prince Andrei cherished for him a passionate feeling of admiration, similar to that which he had once felt for Bonaparte. The circumstance that Speransky was the son of a priest — whom foolish people, as indeed many did, might vulgarly despise as a cassock-brat and a parson's son — made Prince Andrei especially careful with his feeling for Speransky, and unconsciously to strengthen it within himself.

On that first evening which Bolkonsky spent at his house, having got to talking about the commission for drawing up the laws, Speransky told Prince Andrei ironically that the commission of laws had existed for fifty years, had cost millions, and had done nothing, that Rosenkampf had stuck little labels on all the articles of comparative legislation.

— And that is all the state has paid millions for! — he said. — We want to give the Senate a new judicial power, but we have no laws. That is why it is a sin for men like you, Prince, not to serve now.

Prince Andrei said that for that a juridical education was needed, which he did not possess.

— But no one possesses it, so what would you have? It is a circulus viciosus, out of which one must break by an effort.

Within a week Prince Andrei was a member of the commission for drawing up the military code and — what he had never expected — the head of a section of the commission for drawing up the laws. At Speransky's request he took the first part of the civil code being compiled and, with the help of the Code Napoléon and the Justiniani, worked on compiling the section: The Rights of Persons.