to conventional principles blindly, nor
to dissent from them mechanically; never to be contemptuous or
intolerant; to foresee contingencies and not to be deterred by them; to
be open to all impressions; to be tender to all sincere scruples; not
to be censorious or hasty; not to anticipate opposition; to be neither
timid nor rash; to seek peace; to be gentle rather than conscientious;
to be appreciative rather than critical--on these lines Hugh wished to
live; he desired no deference, no personal domination; but neither did
he wish to reject responsibility if he were consulted and trusted.
Above all things he hoped to resist the temptation of taking soundings,
of calculating his successes. Fame and renown allured him, none but he
could say how much; but he knew in his heart that he contemned their
specious claims, and he hoped that they would some day cease to trouble
him. He knew that much depended upon health and vigour; but on the
other hand he believed that the most transforming power in the world
was the desire to be different; why he could not stride into his
kingdom and realise his ideal all at once, he could not divine; but
meanwhile he would desire the best, and look forward in confidence and
hope.

XV

The Pilgrim's Progress--The Pilgrimage--Development--The Eternal Will

Hugh was seized, one bright February morning of clear sun and keen
winds, with a sudden weariness of his work. This rebellious impulse
did not often visit him, because he loved his work very greatly, and
there were no hours so happy as those which were so engaged. But
to-day he thought to himself suddenly that, lost thus in his delightful
labour, he was forgetting to live. How strange it was that the hours
one loved most were the hours of work that sped past unconsciously,
when one stood apart, absorbed in dreams, from the current of things.
It seemed to him that he was like the Lady of Shalott, so intent upon
her web and the weaving of it, that she thought of the moving forms
upon the road beyond the river merely as things that could be depicted
in her coloured threads. He took up the _Pilgrim's Progress_ and sate
a long while reading it, and smiling as he read; he wondered why so
many critics spoke so slightingly of the second part, which seemed to
him in some ways almost more beautiful than the first. There was not
perhaps quite the same imaginativeness or zest; but there was more
instinctive art, because the writer was re