at its flood height--Confirmation was becoming a more prominent
subject with religious people than it had probably ever been in our
Church, and it was recognised that some preparation was desirable
beyond the power of repeating the Church Catechism. This was all
that had been required of my father at Harrow. My mother's
godfather, a dignified clergyman, had simply said, 'I suppose, my
dear, you know all about it;' and as for the Admiral, he remarked,
'Confirmed! I never was confirmed anything but a post-captain!'

Our incumbent was more attentive to his duties, or rather recognised
more duties, than his predecessor. He preached on the subject, and
formed classes, sixteen being then the limit of age,--since the idea
of the vow, having become far more prominent than that of the
blessing, it was held that full development of the will and
understanding was needful.

I was of the requisite age, and my father spoke to the clergyman,
who called, and, as I could not attend the classes, gave me books to
read and questions to answer. 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-