corporated in a plant and then in living flesh and then becomes a cell in the brain of a Newton, dies with him and again disintegrates, it still does not give up its power. But if you compel it . . . by force . . . to split up and liberate its strength, then it explodes in a thousandth of a second, then at last it exercises the force which it contains. And perhaps it was not even asleep; it was only bound, suffocated, struggling in the darkness and waiting for its moment to come. To release everything! That is its right. I, I must release everything. Have I not only to expose myself to corrosion and wait . . . ferment in an unclean way . . . disintegrate and then . . . all at once . . . release the whole man? Best of all . . . best of all in one supreme moment . . . and through everything. . . . For I believe that it is good to release everything. Whether it’s good or bad. Everything in me is interfused; good and bad and the highest. That is the redemption of man. It doesn’t lie in anything which I have done, it’s become a part of me . . . like a stone in a building. And I must fly to pieces . . . by force . . . like an explosive charge. And I won’t ask what it is that I may be bursting. There’s a need in me . . . to liberate the highest.”
He struggled with words, endeavouring to express the inexpressible, lost it with every word, furrowed his brow and examined the faces of his listeners to see if anyone had any idea of what he was trying and failing, to express. He found a glowing sympathy in the clear eyes of the consumptive, and concentrated effort in the entranced blue ones of the shaggy giant at the back. The shrivelled little man
