ly and almost noiselessly flowed on the
broad, mighty river, carrying enormous weights upon its bosom. The river
was all covered with black vessels, the signal lights and the stars were
reflected in its water; the tiny ripples, murmuring softly, were
gently breaking against the shore at the very feet of Foma. Sadness was
breathed down from the sky, the feeling of loneliness oppressed Foma.

"Oh Lord Jesus Christ!" thought he, sadly gazing at the sky. "What a
failure I am. There is nothing in me. God has put nothing into me. Of
what use am I? Oh Lord Jesus!"

At the recollection of Christ Foma felt somewhat better--his loneliness
seemed alleviated, and heaving a deep sigh, he began to address God in
silence:

"Oh Lord Jesus Christ! Other people do not understand anything either,
but they think that all is known to them, and therefore it is easier for
them to live. While I--I have no justification. Here it is night, and I
am alone, I have no place to go, I am unable to say anything to anybody.
I love no one--only my godfather, and he is soulless. If Thou hadst but
punished him somehow! He thinks there is none cleverer and better on
earth than himself. While Thou sufferest it. And the same with me. If
some misfortune were but sent to me. If some illness were to overtake
me. But here I am as strong as iron. I am drinking, leading a gay life.
I live in filth, but the body does not even rust, and only my soul
aches. Oh Lord! To what purpose is such a life?"

Vague thoughts of protest flashed one after another through the mind
of the lonely, straying man, while the silence about him was growing
deeper, and night ever darker and darker. Not far from the shore lay a
boat at anchor; it rocked from side to side, and something was creaking
in it as though moaning.

"How am I to free myself from such a life as this?" reflected Foma,
staring at the boat. "And what occupation is destined to be mine?
Everybody is working."

And suddenly he was struck by a thought which appeared great to him:

"And hard work is cheaper than easy work! Some man will give himself up
entire to his work for a rouble, while another takes a thousand with one
finger."

He was pleasantly roused by this thought. It seemed to him that he
discovered another falsehood in the life of man, another fraud which
they conceal. He recalled one of his stokers, the old man Ilya, who,
for ten copecks, used to be on watch at the fireplace out of his turn,
working fo