ct happiness of men on the earth (if it ever
comes) will not be a flat and solid thing, like the satisfaction of
animals. It will be an exact and perilous balance; like that of a
desperate romance. Man must have just enough faith in himself to have
adventures, and just enough doubt of himself to enjoy them.

This, then, is our second requirement for the ideal of progress. First,
it must be fixed; second, it must be composite. It must not (if it is to
satisfy our souls) be the mere victory of some one thing swallowing up
everything else, love or pride or peace or adventure; it must be a
definite picture composed of these elements in their best proportion and
relation. I am not concerned at this moment to deny that some such good
culmination may be, by the constitution of things, reserved for the
human race. I only point out that if this composite happiness is fixed
for us it must be fixed by some mind; for only a mind can place the
exact proportions of a composite happiness. If the beatification of the
world is a mere work of nature, then it must be as simple as the
freezing of the world, or the burning up of the world. But if the
beatification of the world is not a work of nature but a work of art,
then it involves an artist. And here again my contemplation was cloven
by the ancient voice which said, "I could have told you all this a long
time ago. If there is any certain progress it can only be my kind of
progress, the progress towards a complete city of virtues and
dominations where righteousness and peace contrive to kiss each other.
An impersonal force might be leading you to a wilderness of perfect
flatness or a peak of perfect height. But only a personal God can
possibly be leading you (if, indeed, you are being led) to a city with
just streets and architectural proportions, a city in which each of you
can contribute exactly the right amount of your own colour to the
many-coloured coat of Joseph."

Twice again, therefore, Christianity had come in with the exact answer
that I required. I had said, "The ideal must be fixed," and the Church
had answered, "Mine is literally fixed, for it existed before anything
else." I said secondly, "It must be artistically combined, like a
picture"; and the Church answered, "Mine is quite literally a picture,
for I know who painted it." Then I went on to the third thing, which, as
it seemed to me, was needed for an Utopia or goal of progress. And of
all the three it is infinitely