All that spring he was not himself, and went through fearful
moments of horror.
"Without knowing what I am and why I am here, life's impossible;
and that I can't know, and so I can't live," Levin said to
himself.
"In infinite time, in infinite matter, in infinite space, is
formed a bubble-organism, and that bubble lasts a while and
bursts, and that bubble is Me."
It was an agonizing error, but it was the sole logical result of
ages of human thought in that direction.
This was the ultimate belief on which all the systems elaborated
by human thought in almost all their ramifications rested. It
was the prevalent conviction, and of all other explanations Levin
had unconsciously, not knowing when or how, chosen it, as anyway
the clearest, and made it his own.
But it was not merely a falsehood, it was the cruel jeer of some
wicked power, some evil, hateful power, to whom one could not
submit.
He must escape from this power. And the means of escape every
man had in his own hands. He had but to cut short this
dependence on evil. And there was one means--death.
And Levin, a happy father and husband, in perfect health, was
several times so near suicide that he hid the cord that he might
not be tempted to hang himself, and was afraid to go out with his
gun for fear of shooting himself.
But Levin did not shoot himself, and did not hang himself; he
went on living.