a meaning; but my joy did not last long,—the mind continued its work.
“The concept of God is not God,” I said to myself. “A concept is what takes place within me; the concept of God is what I can evoke or can not evoke in myself. It is not that which I am searching after. I am trying to find that without which life could not be.” And again everything began to die around me and within me, and I wanted again to kill myself.
Then I looked at myself, at what was going on within me, and I recalled those deaths and revivals which had taken place within me hundreds of times. I remembered that I lived only when I believed in God. As it had been before, so it was even now: I needed only to know about God, and I lived; I needed to forget and not believe in him, and I died.
What, then, are these revivals and deaths? Certainly I do not live when I lose my faith in the existence of God; I should have killed myself long ago, if I had not had the dim hope of finding him. “So what else am I looking for?” a voice called out within me. “Here he is. He is that without which one cannot live. To know God and live is one and the same thing. God is life.”
“Live searching after God, and then there will be no life without God.” And stronger than ever all was lighted up within me and about me, and that light no longer abandoned me.
Thus I was saved from suicide. When and how this transformation took place in me I could not say. Just as imperceptibly and by degrees as my force of life had waned, and I had arrived at the impossibility of living, at the arrest of life, at the necessity of suicide, just so by degrees and imperceptibly did that force of life return to me. Strange to say, the force of life which returned to me was not a new, but the same old force which had drawn me on in the first period of my life.
