“Certainly not.”
“You know some, I dare say, who would be glad to be rid of life such as it is, and such as they suppose it must continue?”
“I don’t.”
“I do.”
“I have already understood that everybody clung to life.”
“Most people do; everybody certainly does not: Job, for instance.”
“They say that is but a poem.”
“BUT a poem! EVEN a poem—a representation true not of this or that individual, but of the race! There ARE such persons as would gladly be rid of life, and in their condition all would feel the same. Somewhat similar is the state of those who profess unbelief in the existence of God: none of them expect, and few of them seem to wish to live for ever!—At least, so I am told.”
“That is no wonder,” said the draper; “—if they don’t believe in God, I mean.”
“Then there I have you! There you allow life to be not worth having, if on certain evil conditions.”