But this philosophy, though seductive, is of no wholesome nor useful character; it is the philosophy of feelings, not principles--of the heart, not head.

So with Godolphin: he was too refined in his moralising to cling to what was moral.

The simply good and the simply bad he left for us plain folks to discover.

He was unattracted by the doctrines of right and wrong which serve for all men; but he had some obscure and shadowy standard in his own mind by which he compared the actions of others.
He had imagination, genius, even heart; was brilliant always, sometimes profound; graceful in society, yet seldom social: a lonely man, yet a man of the world; generous to individuals, selfish to the mass.

How many fine qualities worse than thrown away! Who will not allow that he has met many such men ?--and who will not follow this man to his end?
One day (it was the last of Godolphin's protracted visit) as the sun was waning to its close, and the time was unusually soft and tranquil, Constance and Godolphin were returning slowly home from their customary ride.