stry,
which he wove with all his might, and the fineness of his life seems to
me to consist in this, that he made his own choices, found out the
channels in which his powers could best move, and let the stream gush
forth. He did not shelter himself fastidiously, or creep away out of the
glare and noise. He took up the staff and scrip of pilgrimage, and,
while he kept his eyes on the Celestial City, he enjoyed every inch of
the way, as well the assaults and shadows and the toils as the houses of
kindly entertainment, with all their curious contents, the talk of
fellow-pilgrims, the arbours of refreshment, until his feet touched the
brink of the river, and even there he went fearlessly forward.

XIX

RETROSPECT

Now that I have traced the progress of Hugh's outer life from step to
step, I will try to indicate what in the region of mind and soul his
progress was, and I would wish to do this with particular care, even it
the risk of repeating myself somewhat, because I believe that his nature
was one that changed in certain ways very much; it widened and deepened
greatly, and most of all in the seven last years of his life, when I
believe that he found himself in the best and truest sense.

As a boy, up to the age of eighteen or nineteen, it was, I believe, a
vivid and unreflective nature, much absorbed in the little pattern of
life as he saw it, neither expansive nor fed upon secret visions. It was
always a decided nature. He never, as a child, needed to be amused; he
never said, "What shall I do? Tell me what to do!" He liked constant
companionship, but he had always got little businesses of his own going
on; he joined in games, and joined keenly in them, but if a public game
was not to his taste, he made no secret that he was bored, and, if he
was released, he went off on his own errands. I do not remember that he
ever joined in a general game because of any sociable impulse merely,
but because it amused him; and if he separated himself and went off, he
had no resentment nor any pathetic feeling about being excluded.

When he went on to school he lived a sociable but isolated life. His
companions were companions rather than friends. He did not, I think,
ever form a romantic and adoring friendship, such as are common enough
with emotional boys. He did not give his heart away; he just took a
vivid and animated interest in the gossip, the interplay, the factions
and parties of his circle; but it was all rather