Now he could remember the frenzied outward rushing of the vast masses of
people, away from themselves, without being driven mad by it. But it
seemed strange to him that they should rush like this in their vast
herds, outwards, outwards, always frenziedly outwards, like souls with
hydrophobia rushing away from the pool of water. He himself, when he was
caught up in the rush, felt tortured and maddened, it was an agony of
irritation to him till he could feel himself drifting back again like a
creature into the sea. The sea of his own inward soul, his own
unconscious faith, over which his will had no exercise. Why did the mass
of people not want this stillness and this peace with their own being?
Why did they want cinemas and excitements? Excitements are as nauseous
as sea-sickness. Why does the world want them?
It is their problem. They must go their way. But some men, some women
must stay by their own inmost being, in peace, and without envy. And
there in the stillness listen, listen, and try to know, and try to obey.
From the innermost, not from the outside. It is so lovely, the peace.
But poor dear Richard, he was only resting and basking in the old
sunshine just now, after his fray. The fight would come again, and only
in the fight would his soul burn its way once more to the knowledge, the
intense knowledge of his “dark god.” The other was so much sweeter and
easier, while it lasted.
At tea-time it began to rain again. Somers sat on the verandah looking
at the dark green sea, with its films of floating yellow light between
the ruffled waves. Far back, in the east, was a cloud that was a
rainbow. It was a piece of rainbow, but not sharp, in a band; it was a
tall fume far back among the clouds of the sea-wall.
“Who is there that you feel you are with, besides me--or who feel
themselves with you?” Harriet was asking. “No one,” he replied. And at
the same moment he looked up and saw the rainbow fume beyond the sea.
But it was on a dark background, like a coloured darkness. The rainbow
was always a symbol to him--a good symbol: of this peace. A pledge of
unbroken faith, between the universe and the innermost. And the very
moment he said “No one,” he saw the rainbow for an answer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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