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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
99
June
14.
The
Restlessness
of
the
Sea
The
restlessness
of
the
sea
acts
as
a
soporific
on
jangled
nerves.
You
gaze
at
its
incessant
activities,
unwillingly
at
first
because
they
distract
your
attention
from
your
own
cherished
worries
and
griefs,--but
later
you
watch
with
complete
self-abandon--it
wrenches
you
out
of
yourself--and
eventually
with
a
kind
of
stupid
hypnotic
stare.
Dr.
Spurgeon
The
day
has
been
overcast,
but
to-night
a
soft
breeze
sprang
up
and
swept
the
sky
clear
as
softly
as
a
mop.
The
sun
coming
out
shone
upon
a
white
sail
far
out
in
the
channel,
scarcely
another
vessel
hove
in
sight.
The
white
sail
glittered
like
a
piece
of
silver
paper
whenever
the
mainsail
swung
round
as
the
vessel
tacked.
Its
solitariness
and
whiteness
in
a
desert
of
marine
blue
attracted
the
attention
and
held
it
till
at
last
I
could
look
at
nothing
else.
The
sight
of
it--so
clean
and
white
and
fair--set
me
yearning
for
all
the
rarest
and
most
exquisite
things
my
imagination
could
conjure
up--a
beautiful
girl,
with
fair
and
sunburnt
skin,
brown
eyes,
dark
eyebrows,
and
small
pretty
feet;
a
dewdrop
in
a
violet's
face;
an
orange-tip
butterfly
swinging
on
an
umbel
of
a
flower.
The
sail
went
on
twinkling
and
began
to
exert
an
almost
moral
influence
over
me.
It
drew
out
all
the
good
in
me.
I
longed
to
follow
it
on
white
wings--an
angel
I
suppose--to
quit
this
husk
of
a
body
"as
raiment
put
away,"
and
pursue
Truth
and
Beauty
across
the
sea
to
the
horizon,
and
beyond
the
horizon
up
the
sky
itself
to
its
last
tenuous
confines,
no
doubt
with
a
still
small
voice
summoning
me
and
the
rest
of
the
elect
to
an
Agapemone,
with
Dr.
Spurgeon
at
the
door
distributing
tracts.
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