The worst of it is that the spirit is
already so oppressed that it dares not breathe freely or believe
in its own happiness. But I dared, and had a sensation as if I had
escaped from a stifling cellar.
Perhaps this is only a momentary relief, for I understand well that
Neo-Vitalism does not form an epoch in science; maybe to-morrow I
shall go back to prison,--I do not know. In the meantime the breath
of air did me good. I said to myself over and over again: "If it be
possible that by way of scepticism one can arrive at the undoubted
certainty of another world, mocking at mechanical explanation, being
absolutely beyond all physico-chemical elucidation, then everything
is possible,--every creed, every dogma, every mysticism! It is
permissible then to think that, as there is infinite Space, there is
also infinite Reason, infinite Good, enfolding the whole universe
as in a vast cloak, under which we may find rest and shelter and
protection. And if so, all is well! I shall know at least why I live
and why I suffer. What an immense relief!"
I repeat once more that I am not obliged to be timid and wary in my
deductions, and, as I said before, no one is so near mysticism as the
sceptic. I realized it once more in myself when I began spreading my
wings, like the bird which has been caged and delights in its new
freedom.
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