 in favour of Velasquez, they sedulously followed suit without any
personal objection.
    If these two noticed Angel's growing social ineptness, he noticed their
growing mental limitations. Felix seemed to him all Church; Cuthbert all
College. His Diocesan Synod and Visitations were the mainsprings of the world to
the one; Cambridge to the other. Each brother candidly recognized that there
were a few unimportant scores of millions of outsiders in civilized society,
persons who were neither University men nor churchmen; but they were to be
tolerated rather than reckoned with and respected.
    They were both dutiful and attentive sons, and were regular in their visits
to their parents. Felix, though an offshoot from a far more recent point in the
devolution of theology than his father, was less self-sacrificing and
disinterested. More tolerant than his father of a contradictory opinion, in its
aspect as a danger to its holder, he was less ready than his father to pardon it
as a 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 saw or 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 ideals. Farming, of course, means roughing it
externally; but high thinking may go with plain living, nevertheless.«
    »Of course it may,« said Angel. »Was it not proved nineteen hundred years
ago - if I may trespass upon your domain a little? Why should you think, Felix,
that I am likely to drop my high thinking and my moral ideals?«
    »Well, I fancied, from the tone of your letters and our conversation - it
may
