And daily he saw more clearly that he had no answer to give. He was fifty years old when his despair reached its height. At the summit of his fame, a happy husband and father, author of many splendid poems full of the deepest knowledge of men and of the wisdom of life, Tolstoi realized the utter impossibility of going on living. Man cannot imagine life, without the desire for well-being. Man probes life only that he may improve it.
Philosophy gives no answer.
Such, too, is the real , inner, mental condition of many an one, both without and within the Theosophical Society. Others know and understand the problem well enough, but turn purposely away from it, favored by fortunate surroundings which permit them to pass their lives as it were in intoxication. Finally, there are the strong and consistent natures, who grasp the whole stupidity of the farce being played with them, therefore put an end to this silly farce at one stroke. My inner condition at that time, which brought me near to suicide, was such that everything I had hitherto done, everything I could still do, seemed to me foolish and bad. From this depth of despair he escaped at length.