“And not the struggle of the classes?” asked Rameyev. “Yes,” said Trirodov, “there is also the struggle of the classes, to whatever degree two inimical factors enter into the struggle--social justice and the real relation of forces--a common morality, which is always static, and a common dynamism. The Christian element is in morality, the Buddhistic in dynamism. Indeed, the weakness of Europe consists in that its life has already for a long time nourished itself on a substance Buddhistic in origin.” Piotr said confidently, in the voice of a young prophet: “In this duel Christianity will triumph--not the historic Christianity, of course, and not the present, but the Christianity of St. John and the Apocalypse. And it will triumph only then when everything will appear lost, and the world will be in the power of the yellow Antichrist.” “I don’t think that will happen,” said Trirodov quietly. “I suppose you think Buddha will triumph,” said Piotr in vexation. “No,” replied Trirodov calmly. “The devil, perhaps!” exclaimed Piotr. “Petya!” exclaimed Rameyev reproachfully. Trirodov lowered his head slightly, as if he were confused, and said tranquilly: “We see two currents, equally powerful. It would be strange that either one of them should conquer. That is impossible. It is impossible to destroy half of the whole historical energy.” “However,” said Piotr, “if neither Christ nor Buddha conquers, what awaits us? Or is that fool Guyau right when he speaks of the irreligiousness of future generations?”[35] “There will be a synthesis,” replied Trirodov. “You will accept it for the devil.” “This contradictory mixture is worse than forty devils!” exclaimed Piotr. The visitors soon left. Kirsha came without being called--confused and agitated by an indefinable something. He was silent, and his dark eyes flamed with sadness and fear. He walked up to the window, looked out in an attitude of expectancy. He seemed to see something in the distance. There was a look of apprehension in his dark, wide-open eyes, as if they were fixed on a strange distant vision. Thus people look during a hallucination. Kirsha turned to his father and, growing pale, said quietly: “Father, a visitor has come to you from quite afar. How strange that he has come in a simple carriage and in ordinary clothes! I wonder why he has come?” They could hear the crunching sound of the sand under the iron hoops of the wheels of the calash which had just entered the gates. Kirsha’s face wore a gloomy expression. It was difficult to comprehend what was in his soul--was it a reproach?--astonishment?--fear?