misconducted then, involved so much crowding and distress that I
recollect very little but clinging to Clarence's arm under a strong
sense of my infirmities,--the painful attempt at kneeling, and the
big outstretched lawn sleeves while the blessing was pronounced over
six heads at once, and then the struggle back to the pew, while the
silver-pokered apparitor looked grim at us, as though the maimed and
halt had no business to get into the way. Yet this was a great
advance upon former Confirmations, and the Bishop met my father
afterwards, and inquired most kindly after his lame son.

We were disappointed, and felt that we could not attain to the
feelings in the Confirmation poem in the Christian Year--Mr.
Castleford's gift to me. Still, I believe that, though encumbered
with such a drag as myself, Clarence, more than I did,


'Felt Him how strong, our hearts how frail,
And longed to own Him to the death.'


But the evangelical belief that dejection ought to be followed by a
full sense of pardon and assurance of salvation somewhat perplexed
and dimmed our Easter Communion. For one short moment, as Clarence
turned to help my father lift me up from the altar-rail, I saw his
face and eyes radiant with a wonderful rapt look; but it passed only
too fast, and the more than ordinary glimpse his spiritual nature
had had made him all the more sad afterwards, when he said, 'I would
give everything to know that there was any steadfastness in my
purpose to lead a new life.'