His
childhood had been rather ceremoniously religious, for his step-uncle,
the Lieutenant-General, was a great defender of Christianity as well
as of the British Empire. The Lieutenant-General had even written
a pamphlet against a ribald iconoclastic book published by the
Rationalist Press Association, in which pamphlet he had made a sorry
mess of Herbert Spencer. All the Lieutenant-General's relatives and
near admirers went to church, and they all went to precisely the same
kind of church, for no other kind would have served. Louis, however,
had really liked going to church. There had once even been a
mad suggestion that he should become a choir-boy, but the
Lieutenant-General had naturally decided that it was not meet for a
child of breeding to associate with plebeians in order to chant the
praises of the Almighty.
Louis at his worst had never quite ceased to attend church, though he
was under the impression that his religious views had broadened, if
not entirely changed. Beneath the sudden heavy menace of death he
discovered that his original views were, after all, the most authentic
and the strongest. And he had much longed for converse with a
clergyman, who would repeat to him the beautiful reassurances of his
infancy.
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