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 slight to his own teaching. Cuthbert was, upon the whole, the more liberal-minded, though, with greater subtlety, he had not so much heart.

As they walked along the hillside Angel’s former feeling revived in him—that whatever their advantages by comparison with himself, neither set forth life as it really was lived. Perhaps, as with many men, their opportunities of observation were not so good as their opportunities of expression. Neither had an adequate conception of the complicated forces at work outside the smooth and gentle current in which they and their associates floated. Neither saw the difference between local truth and universal truth; that what the inner world said in their clerical and academic hearing was quite a different thing from what the outer world was thinking.

‘I suppose it is farming or nothing for you now, my dear fellow,’ Felix was saying, among other things, to his youngest brother, as he looked through his spectacles at the distant fields with sad austerity. ‘And, therefore, we must make the best of it. But I do entreat you to endeavour to keep as much as possible in touch with moral