Perfect love foregoes."
Sir Richmond found his mind wandering far away from the immediate
question. "Perfect love," the phrase was his point of departure. Was
it true that he could not love passionately and completely? Was that
fundamentally what was the matter with him? Was that perhaps what was
the matter with the whole world of mankind? It had not yet come to
that power of loving which makes action full and simple and direct and
unhesitating. Man upon his planet has not grown up to love, is still an
eager, egotistical and fluctuating adolescent. He lacks the courage to
love and the wisdom to love. Love is here. But it comes and goes, it
is mixed with greeds and jealousies and cowardice and cowardly
reservations. One hears it only in snatches and single notes. It is like
something tuning up before the Music begins.... The metaphor altogether
ran away with Sir Richmond's half dreaming mind. Some day perhaps all
life would go to music.
Love was music and power. If he had loved enough he need never have
drifted away from his wife. Love would have created love, would have
tolerated and taught and inspired. Where there is perfect love there
is neither greed nor impatience. He would have done his work calmly.
He would have won his way with his Committee instead of fighting and
quarrelling with it perpetually.
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