cism did not arise from the fact that it was easier for him to live without a religion, but from the fact that gradually his religious behefs had been supplanted by the theories of modern science; and therefore he knew that his return to faith was not logical or normal, but was ephemeral and due simply to his unreasonable hope for recovery. He knew likewise that Kitty had strengthened this hope by her stories of extraordinary cures.
Levin knew all this and was tormented by these thoughts as he looked at his brother's beseeching, hopeful eyes, as he saw his difficulty in lifting his emaciated hand to touch his yellow forehead to make the sign of the cross, and saw his fleshless shoulders, and his hollow, rattling chest, unable longer to contain the life which he was begging to have restored. During the sacrament Levin did what he had done a thousand times, skeptic that he was:—
"Heal this man if Thou dost exist," he said, addressing God, "and Thou wilt save me also."
The invalid felt suddenly much better after the anointing with the holy oil; for more than an hour he did not cough once. He assured Kitty, as he kissed her hand with smiles and tears of thanksgiving, that he felt well, that he was not suffering, and that he felt a return of strength and appetite. When his broth was brought, he got up by himself and asked for a cutlet. Hopeless as his case was, impossible as his recovery was, as any one might see by a glance. Levin and Kitty spent this hour in a kind of timid joy.
"Is he not better?"
"Much better."
"It is astonishing."
"Why should it be astonishing?"
"He is certainly better," they whispered, smiling at each other.
The illusion did not last. The sick man went serenely to sleep, but after half an hour his cough wakened him and instantly those who were with him and the sick man himself lost all hope. The actuality of suffering unquestioned made them forget their late hopes. Nikolaï,
