Clarence read and discussed the
questions with me, showing so much more insight into them, and
fuller knowledge of Scripture than I possessed, that I exclaimed,
'Why should you not go up for Confirmation too?'
'No,' he answered mournfully. 'I must take no more vows if I can't
keep them. It would just be profane.'
I had no more to say; indeed, my parents held the same view. It was
good Mr. Castleford who saw things differently. He was a
clergyman's son, and had been bred up in the old orthodoxy, which
was just beginning to put forth fresh shoots, and, as a quasi-
godfather, he held himself bound to take an interest in our
religious life, while the sponsors, whose names stood in the family
Bible, and whose spoons reposed in the plate-chest, never troubled
themselves on the matter. I remember Clarence leaning over me and
saying, 'Mr. Castleford thinks I might be confirmed. He says it is
not so much the promise we make as of coming to Almighty God for
strength to keep what we are bound by already! He is going to speak
to papa.'
Perhaps no one except Mr. Castleford could have prevailed over the
fear of profanation in the mind of my father, who was, in his old-
fashioned way, one of the most reverent of men, and could not bear
to think of holy things being approached by one under a stigma, nor
of exposing his son to add to his guilt by taking and breaking
further pledges.
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