It is enough sometimes when one sensible， firm word is utteredto this crowd—the crowd calms down and imminent deathis thus averted. Let， then， a hundred calm， rational voices beraised to mankind， showing them where to escape and wherethe danger lies—and heaven will be established on earth， if notimmediately， then at least within a very brief time.
Max began to utter his word of wisdom. How he uttered ityou will learn later. The name of Max was mentioned in thenewspapers， shouted in the market places， blessed and cursed；whole books were written on what Max N+1 had done， whathe was doing， and what he intended to do. He appeared hereand there and everywhere. He was seen standing at the headof the crowd， commanding it； he was seen in chains and underthe knife of the guillotine. In this respect Max did not have anyspecial peculiarities， either. A preacher of humility and peace，a stern bearer of fire and sword， he was the same Max—Maxthe believer. But while he was doing all this， time kept passingon. His nerves were shattered； his wavy locks became thin andhis head began to look like that of Elijah the Prophet； here andthere he felt a piercing pain....
The earth continued to turn light-mindedly around thesun， now coming nearer to it， now retreating coquettishly，and giving the impression that it fixed all its attention uponits household friend， the moon； the days were replaced byother days， and the dark nights by other dark nights， withsuch pedantic German punctuality and correctness that all theartistic natures were compelled to move over to the far northby degrees， where the devil himself would break his headendeavouring to distinguish between day and night—whensuddenly something happened to Max.
Somehow it happened that Max became misunderstood.
He had calmed the crowd by his words of wisdom many atime before and had saved them from mutual destruction butnow he was not understood. They thought that it was he whohad shouted “Fire！” With all the eloquence of which he wascapable he assured them that he was exerting all his efforts fortheir sake alone； that he himself needed absolutely nothing，for he was alone， childless； that he was ready to forget thesad misunderstanding and serve them again with faith andtruth—but all in vain. They would not trust him. And in thisrespect Max did not have any special peculiarities， either. Thesad incident ended for Max in a new intermission.
Max was alive， as was positively established by medicalexperts， who had made a series of simple tests. Thus， whenthey pricked a needle into his foot， he shook his foot and triedto remove the needle. When they put food before him， he ateit， but he did not walk and did not ask for any loans， whichclearly testified to the complete decline of his energy. His soulwas dead—as much as the soul can be dead while the body isalive. To Max all that he had loved and believed in was dead.
Impenetrable gloom wrapped his soul. There were neitherfeelings in it， nor desires， nor thoughts. And there was not amore unhappy man in the world than Max， if he was a man atall.
But he was a man.
According to the calendar， it was Friday or Saturday， whenMax awakened as from a prolonged sleep. With the pleasantsensation of an owner to whom his property has been restoredwhich had wrongly been taken from him， Max realised that hewas once more in possession of all his five senses.
His sight reported to him that he was all alone， in a placewhich might in justice be called either a room or a chimney.
Each wall of the room was about a metre and a half wide andabout ten metres high. The walls were straight， white， smooth，with no openings， except one through which food was broughtto Max. An electric lamp was burning brightly on the ceiling.
It was burning all the time， so that Max did not know nowwhat darkness was. There was no furniture in the room， andMax had to lie on the stone floor. He lay curled together， as thenarrowness of the room did not permit him to stretch himself.
His sense of hearing reported to him that until the day of hisdeath he would not leave this room.... Having reported this， hishearing sank into inactivity， for not the slightest sound camefrom without， except the sounds which Max himself produced，tossing about， or shouting until he was hoarse， until he lost hisvoice.
Max looked into himself. In contrast to the outward lightwhich never went out he saw within himself impenetrable，heavy， and motionless darkness. In that darkness his love andfaith were buried.
Max did not know whether time was moving or whether itstood motionless. The same even， white light poured down onhim—the same silence and quiet. Only by the beating of hisheart Max could judge that Chronos had not left his chariot.
His body was aching ever more from the unnatural position inwhich it lay， and the constant light and silence were growingever more tormenting. How happy are they for whom nightexists， near whom people are shouting， making noise， beatingdrums； who may sit on a chair， with their feet hanging down，or lie with their feet outstretched， placing the head in a cornerand covering it with the hands in order to create the illusion ofdarkness.
Max made an effort to recall and to picture to himself whatthere is in life； human faces， voices， the stars.... He knew thathis eyes would never in life see that again. He knew it， andyet he lived. He could have destroyed himself， for there isno position in which a man can not do that， but instead Maxworried about his health， trying to eat， although he had noappetite， solving mathematical problems to occupy his mindso as not to lose his reason. He struggled against death as ifit were not his deliverer， but his enemy； and as if life were tohim not the worst of infernal tortures—but love， faith， andhappiness. Gloom in the Past， the grave in the Future， andinfernal tortures in the Present—and yet he lived. Tell me，John N.， where did he get the strength for that？
He hoped.
