 and for ever,
or perchance some base alliance of the flesh, which would involve his later days
in sordid misery.
    In moods of discouragement he thought with envy of his old self, his life in
London lodgings, his freedom in obscurity. It belongs to the pathos of human
nature that only in looking back can one appreciate the true value of those long
tracts of monotonous ease which, when we are living through them, seem of no
account save in relation to past or future; only at a distance do we perceive
that the exemption from painful shock was in itself a happiness, to be rated
highly in comparison with most of those disturbances known as moments of joy. A
wise man would have entertained no wish but that he might grow old in that same
succession of days and weeks and years. Without anxiety concerning his material
needs (certainly the most substantial of earthly blessings), his leisure not
inadequate to the gratification of a moderate studiousness, with friends who
offered him an ever-ready welcome, - was it not much? If he were condemned to
bachelorhood, his philosophy was surely capable of teaching him that the sorrows
and anxieties he thus escaped made more than an offset against the satisfactions
he must forego. Reason had no part in the fantastic change to which his life had
submitted, nor was he ever supported by a hope which would bear his cooler
investigation.
    And yet hope had her periods of control, for there are times when the mind
wearies of rationality, and, as it were in self-defence, in obedience to the
instinct of progressive life, craves a specious comfort. It seemed undeniable
that Mr. Warricombe regarded him with growth of interest, invited his
conversation more unreservedly. He began to understand Martin's position with
regard to religion and science, and thus could utter himself more securely. At
length he ventured to discourse with some amplitude on his own convictions - the
views, that is to say, which he thought fit to adopt in his character of a
liberal Christian. It was on an afternoon of early August that this opportunity
presented itself. They sat together in the study, and Martin was in a graver
mood than usual, not much disposed to talk, but a willing listener. There had
been mention of a sermon at the Cathedral, in which the preacher declared his
faith that the maturity of science would dispel all antagonisms between it and
revelation.
    »The difficulties of the unbeliever,« said Peak, endeavouring to avoid a
sermonising formality, though with indifferent success, »are, of course, of two
kinds; there's the theory
