Upon his return, Mr. Armstrong sank upon a seat with an air of
weariness.

"Come, Faith," he said, "and sit by me and hold my hand. I have been
thinking this evening of the insensibility of the world to their
condition. How few perceive the precipice on the edge of which they
stand!"

His daughter, who was accustomed to these sombre reflections, bent
over, and bringing his hand to her lips, kissed it without saying
anything, knowing that he would soon explain himself more perfectly.

"Which," continued Armstrong, "is wiser, the thoughtless frivolity of
Judge Bernard, or the sad watchfulness of Holden?"

"I am not competent to judge, dear father; but if they both act
according to their convictions of right, are they not doing their
duty?"

"You ask a difficult question. To be sure men must act according to
their ideas of right, but let them beware how they get them, and what
they are. Yet, can one choose his ideas? These things puzzle me?"

"What else can we do," inquired his daughter, "than live by the light
we have? Surely I cannot be responsible for my involuntary ignorance."

"How far we may be the cause of the ignorance we call involuntary,
it is impossible to determine. A wrong act, an improper thought,
belonging to years ago and even repented of since, may project