TO THE LIGHTHOUSElove which mathematicians bear their symbols, orpoets their phrases, was meant to be spread over theworld and become part of the human gain. So it wasindeed. The world by all means should have sharedit, could Mr. Bankes have said why that womanpleased him so; why the sight of her reading a fairytale to her boy had upon him precisely the sameeffect as the solution of a scientific problem, so thathe rested in contemplation of it, and felt, as he feltwhen he had proved something absolute about thedigestive system of plants, that barbarity wastamed, the reign of chaos subdued.

Such a rapture—for by what other name couldone call it?—made Lily Briscoe forget entirely whatshe had been about to say. It was nothing of im-portance; something about Mrs. Ramsay. It paledbeside this "rapture," this silent stare, for whichshe felt intense gratitude; for nothing so solacedher, eased her of the perplexity of life, and mirac-ulously raised its burdens, as this sublime power,this heavenly gift, and one would no more disturbit, while it lasted, than break up the shaft of sun-light, lying level across the floor.

That people should love like this, that Mr.Bankes should feel this for Mrs. Ramsay (sheglanced at him musing) was helpful, was exalting.She wiped one brush after another upon a piece of74
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