The Equinox (Volume I, Number I)

THE EQUINOX neither always the entire buildings themselves, nor the ground on which they stand, nor the substance of which they are built ; and to one who had not travelled in a train before, say a bushman who had never wandered far from his native kraal, wonder and astonishment would be his as he watched the extraordinary disorder of the fast-flying view. At first he might be excused if he actually doubted his senses, so sud- denly do the apparently moving buildings come, change and vanish—now a roof, some chimneys—then a gap—a tree—a spire—a glimpse down a long street—it is gone; now a high bank—a cutting—a tunnel and darkness; and then once again the light and the continual whirling past of countless houses. Yet the city clerk does not wonder; for he knows well enough—too well ever to notice it—that the houses he is speeding by are built of brick and mortar, constructed on geometric and architectural plans, connected by streets and roads, by gas and water pipes, and by drains; each a micro- cosm in itself, regulated, ruled and ordered by codes, customs and laws, an organised unit only wanting the breath of life for it to rise up complete, and like some colossal giant stride away from before our terror-stricken eyes. Similarly, the adept will see in these visions a great ordered kingdom, and behind all their apparent chaos rule and law; for he will understand that the sudden changing, the leaping from blue seas to silver temples, and the rushing past fiery pillars, people worshipping, red garments, hawks; and then square pillars, an eye, or a flock of eagles, is not due to dis- order in the realm of the vision, but to the want of paraphrase in the mind of the beholder when he, on his return, attempts to interpret what he has seen in rational symbols and words. 318