the
artistic responsiveness of his temperament or not, he firmly and, I
am told, with great feeling uttered some words which were in flat
contradiction with many of his former convictions.

"My immortality is necessary if only because God will not be guilty
of injustice and extinguish altogether the flame of love for Him once
kindled in my heart. And what is more precious than love? Love is higher
than existence, love is the crown of existence; and how is it possible
that existence should not be under its dominance? If I have once loved
Him and rejoiced in my love, is it possible that He should extinguish me
and my joy and bring me to nothingness again? If there is a God, then I
am immortal. _Voila ma profession de foi._"

"There is a God, Stepan Trofimovitch, I assure you there is," Varvara
Petrovna implored him. "Give it up, drop all your foolishness for once
in your life!" (I think she had not quite understood his _profession de
foi_.)

"My friend," he said, growing more and more animated, though his voice
broke frequently, "as soon as I understood... that turning of the cheek,
I... understood something else as well. _J'ai menti toute ma vie,_ all my
life, all! I should like... but that will do to-morrow.... To-morrow we
will all set out."

Varvara Petrovna burst into tears. He was looking about for some one.

"Here she is, she is here!" She seized Sofya Matveyevna by the hand and
led her to him. He smiled tenderly.

"Oh, I should dearly like to live again!" he exclaimed with an
extraordinary rush of energy. "Every minute, every instant of life ought
to be a blessing to man... they ought to be, they certainly ought to be!
It's the duty of man to make it so; that's the law of his nature, which
always exists even if hidden.... Oh, I wish I could see Petrusha... and
all of them... Shatov..."

I may remark that as yet no one had heard of Shatov's fate--not Varvara
Petrovna nor Darya Pavlovna, nor even Salzfish, who was the last to come
from the town.

Stepan Trofimovitch became more and more excited, feverishly so, beyond
his strength.

"The mere fact of the ever present idea that there exists something
infinitely more just and more happy than I am fills me through and
through with tender ecstasy--and glorifies me--oh, whoever I may be,
whatever I have done! What is far more essential for man than personal
happiness is to know and to believe at every instant that there is
somewhere a perfect and serene happi