"It has no meaning," cried Ivanoff irritably.
"No, that is impossible," replied Yourii, "everything is too wisely and
carefully arranged, and--"
"In my opinion," said Sanine, "there's nothing good anywhere."
"How can you say that? What about Nature?"
"Nature! Ha, ha!" Sanine laughed feebly, and waved his hand in
derision. "It is customary, I know, to say that Nature is perfect. The
truth is, that Nature is just as defective as mankind. Without any
great effort of imagination any of us could present a world a hundred
times better than this one. Why should we not have perpetual warmth and
light, and a garden ever verdant and ever gay? As to the meaning of
life, of course it has a meaning of some sort, because the aim implies
the march of things; without an aim all would be chaos, But this aim
lies outside the pale of our existence, in the very basis of the
universe. That is certain. We cannot be the origin nor the end of the
universe. Our role is a passive, and auxiliary one. By the mere fact of
living we fulfil our mission. Our life is necessary; thus our death is
necessary also."
"For what?"
"How should I know?" replied Sanine, "and, besides, what do I care? My
life means my sensations, pleasant or unpleasant; what is outside those
limits; well, to the deuce with it all! Whatever hypothesis we may like
to invent, it will always remain an hypothesis upon which it would be
folly to construct life. Let him who likes worry about it; as for me, I
mean to live!"
"Let us all have a drink on the strength of it!" suggested Ivanoff.
"But you believe in God, don't you?" said Ilitsch, looking at Sanine
with bleared eyes. "Nowadays nobody believes in anything--not even in
that which is easy of belief."
Sanine laughed. "Yes, I believe in God. As a child I did that, and
there's no need to dispute or to affirm any reasons for doing so. It's
the most profitable thing, really, for if there is a God, I offer Him
sincere faith, and, if there isn't, well, all the better for me."
"But on belief or on unbelief all life is based?" said Yourii.
Sanine shook his head, and smiled complacently.
"No, my life is not based on such things," he said.
"On what, then?" asked Yourii, languidly. "A--a--a! I mustn't drink any
more," he thought to himself, as he drew his hand across his cold,
moist brow. If Sanine made any reply he did not hear it. His head was
in a whirl, and for a moment he felt quite overcome.