The rector smiled. "Pardon me, my love, this consideration never hinders me from leaving many things to your discretion."
"Well, Henry, you never heard me fussing about perspective, whatever else I may have done."
"Certainly not, my love; a desire for perspective presupposes a sense of proportion."
"Never mind him, Miss Carnaby," said his wife; "you and I will go to the Academy together, and leave him at home to study perspective from the rectory windows."
The rector turned to Edgar. "I think that the idea of duty to one's own conscience is growing to abnormal proportions, and is in great danger of degenerating into a morbid and unhealthy egotism. As far as my experience goes, if a man fulfils his duty towards God and his duty towards his neighbour, he will not have much time left for works of supererogation."
"But are not one's duty towards God and one's duty towards one's own conscience synonymous?" asked Edgar.
Mr. Stoneley thought for a moment. "Not necessarily, I should say. One's duty towards God is clearly defined in our good old Church catechism; but one's duty towards one's own conscience is an elastic term, which may include anything from religious persecution to anti-vaccination."
Mr. Ford chuckled approvingly. "Quite true!"
"As a distinguished politician once said: 'Politics is the science of the second best,'" remarked Paul, "therefore we must recognize the truth that in political strife we can only approximately approach an ideal."
"Precisely," agreed his host, "everything in this world is a matter of compromise."