During these long years he had been living secluded, waging a perpetual war with himself. Entangled in the meshes of the subtile German infidelity, which was at variance with his earlier training, he found himself encompassed about by unbelief—unbelief in the orthodox theology of his youth, unbelief, also, in the philosophy of this metaphysical land. A man of vast learning, and a close student, he discovered his knowledge to be always conflicting; and thus the long debate within him was no nearer a termination than at the moment when the first doubt had asserted itself. Preyed upon by this harassing mental anxiety, and by encroaching poverty, he was seized by a nervous fever, which had gradually undermined his health, and almost disordered his mind. And now, this night, in a condition of exhaustion, weary of life and its ceaseless struggle—without friends, without money, without hope—his black despair, like the evil tempter, rose before him and suggested a thought from which he had at first drawn back appalled. But it was only for a moment. Why not put an end forever to all these troubles? Had he not worked for years, and had he ever done the world any good, or had the world ever done him any good? No! The world was retrograding daily. The selfishness of humanity, instead of lessening, was constantly growing worse. How had they repaid him for his long studies? He had shut himself up and labored over heavy questions in metaphysics—sifting, searching, reading, thinking—only for a few thankless ones, who had glanced at his works, smiled a faint smile of praise, and straightway left them and him to be lost again in obscurity! The future was dark, the present a labyrinth of care and suffering, from which there was but the one escape. Then why not accept it? So he had been arguing with himself all the evening, and, in his growing excitement, pacing the floor of his garret to and fro with a quick, nervous tread. But there had another cause risen in his mind which he, at first, would hardly acknowledge to himself. A faint, undefined shadow, as it were, of his early faith stirred within him, and before him the “oblivion” of death was peopled with a thousand appalling fancies, illumined by the red flame of an eternal torment. In vain he strove to dispel it by remembering the more rational doctrine of reason, that death is but a dreamless sleep, lasting forever.