Soloveitchik wrung his hands.
"Oh! you cannot imagine how it distresses me to hear this!" he
exclaimed.
"Really, Soloveitchik, you're quite hysterical," said Sanine, in
surprise. "I have not told you anything extraordinary. Possibly the
subject is, to you, a painful one?"
"Oh! most painful. I am always thinking, thinking, till my head seems
as if it would burst. Was all that really an error, nothing more? I
grope about, as in a dark room, and there is no one to tell me what I
ought to do. Why do we live? Tell me that."
"Why? That nobody knows."
"And should we not live for the future, so that later on, at least,
mankind may have a golden age?"
"There will never be a golden age. If the world and mankind could
become better all in a moment, then, perhaps, a golden age would be
possible. But that cannot be. Progress towards improvement is slow, and
man can only see the step in front of him, and that immediately behind
him. You and I have not lived the life of a Roman slave, nor that of
some savage of the Stone Age, and therefore we cannot appreciate the
boon of our civilization. Thus, if there should ever be a golden age,
the men of that period will not perceive any difference between their
lives and those of their ancestors. Man moves along an endless road,
and to wish to level the road to happiness would be like adding new
units to a number that is infinite."
"Then you believe that it all means nothing--that all is of no avail?"
"Yes, that is what I think."
"But what about your friend Lande? You yourself were--"
"I loved Lande," said Sanine gravely, "not because he was a Christian,
but because he was sincere, and never swerved from his path, being
undaunted by obstacles either ridiculous or formidable. It was as a
personality that I prized Lande. When he died, his worth ceased to
exist."
"And don't you think that such men have an ennobling influence upon
life? Might not such men have followers or disciples?"
"Why should life be ennobled? Tell me that, first of all. And,
secondly, one doesn't want disciples. Men like Lande are born so.
Christ was splendid; Christians, however, are but a sorry crew. The
idea of his doctrine was a beautiful one, but they have made of it a
lifeless dogma."
Tired with talking, Sanine said no more. Soloveitchik remained silent
also. There was great stillness around them, while overhead the stars
seemed to maintain a conversation wordless and unending. Then
Soloveitchik suddenly whispered something that sounded so weird that
Sanine, shuddering, exclaimed: "What's that you said?"