ossibility that identity and personal
consciousness were absolutely extinguished by death; for there was no
sort of evidence to the contrary; and if this was the case, what
remained of all human belief, philosophies, and creeds? They might
simply be beautiful dreams, adorable mistakes, exquisite fallacies: but
they could supply no inspiration for life, unless there was an element
of absolute certainty about them, which was just the element that they
lacked; and, in any case, the sad fact that such certainties as men
professed differed from and even contradicted each other, introduced a
new bewilderment upon the scene. A Romanist maintained the absolute
divinity of the Church; a Protestant maintained the absolute
reliability of the Bible; both of these could not be true, because in
many points they contravened each other; the authority of the Church
contradicted the authority of the Bible, while neither was perfectly
consistent even with itself. They could not both be true, and Hugh was
forced to believe that the point in which they were both in error, was
in their claim to any absolute certainty at all. The conclusion seemed
to be that one must take refuge in a perfect sincerity, not formulate
one's hopes as beliefs, but wait for light, and keep the eyes of the
mind open to all indications of any kind--that one must, in the words
of the old wise proverb, be ready to begin one's life afresh many
times, in the light of any new knowledge, any hint of truth. And thus
one kind of happiness became impossible for Hugh, the happiness that
comes of absolute certainty, when one may take a thing for granted, and
not argue any more about it; that was the sort of happiness which many
of his friends seemed to him to attain; and if life did indeed end with
death, it was probably the best practical system to adopt; but Hugh
could not adopt it; and therefore the only happiness he could expect
was a candid and patient waiting upon truth, a welcoming of any new
experience with a balanced and eager mind. To some a human love, a
human passion, seemed the one satisfying thing, but this was denied to
Hugh; and the only thing in his life which was of the nature of a
passion was the sight of the beautiful world about him, which appealed
to him day by day with a hundred delicate surprises, unnumbered
novelties of rapture. He realised that the one thing that he dreaded
was a cold tranquillity, uncheered by hope, unresponsive to beauty.

He