grandeur which must of necessity be
absent if we persist in considering only the things that are known to
us; if we too readily incline to believe that these must greatly
transcend in importance the things that we know not yet.

2

It behoves every man to frame for himself his own general conception of
the world. On this conception reposes his whole human and moral
existence. But this general conception of the world, when closely
examined, is truly no more than a general conception of the unknown.
And we must be careful; we have not the right, when ideas so vast
confront us, ideas the results of which are so highly important, to
select the one which seems most magnificent to us, most beautiful, or
most attractive. The duty lies on us to choose the idea which seems
truest, or rather the only one which seems true; for I decline to
believe that we can sincerely hesitate between the truth that is only
apparent and the one that is real. The moment must always come when we
feel that one of these two is possessed of more truth than the other.
And to this truth we should cling: in our actions, our words, and our
thoughts; in our art, in our science, in the life of our feelings and
intellect. Its definition, perhaps, may elude us. It may possibly
bring not one grain of reassuring conviction. Nay, essentially,
perhaps, it may be but the merest impression, though profounder and
more sincere than any previous impression. These things do not matter.
It is not imperative that the truth we have chosen should be
unimpeachable or of absolute certainty. There is already great gain in
our having been brought to experience that the truths we had loved
before did not accord with reality or with faithful experience of life;
and we have every reason, therefore, to cherish our truth with
heartiest gratitude until its own turn shall come to experience the
fate it inflicted on its predecessor. The great mischief, the one
which destroys our moral existence and threatens the integrity of our
mind and our character, is not that we should deceive ourselves and
love an uncertain truth, but that we should remain constant to one in
which we no longer wholly believe.

3

If we sought nothing more than to invest our conception of the unknown
with the utmost possible grandeur and tragedy, magnificence and might,
there would be no need of such restrictions. From many points of view,
doubtless, the most beautiful, most touching, most rel