At a big dinner party at Government House, Bombay, I remember hearing a number of people discussing Lord William, his career, racing successes, deeds of daring, etc., when someone asked the rather unexpected question, “What is his religion?” The then Commander-in-Chief replied, “I don’t believe he’s got one.” This was surprising coming from a man who was both officially and socially in almost daily association with him, proving what I have so often thought that the faces of those around us, even those of our nearest and dearest, may be photographed on our brains, while yet we know little of their minds and hearts; they are sealed books to us. Lord William’s religious feeling was profound, though his views were not altogether orthodox, but there are some dogmatic doubts while leading us away from the altar bring us nearer to the Throne. Aristippus tells us “Good cheer is no hindrance to a good life.” His lordship agreed with this founder of Hedonistic philosophy, but I doubt if he had been asked to put down in black and white what his religious convictions were, whether he could have clearly defined them, any more than a great number of people could. It would be good for us all if we had to put our faiths and beliefs into writing, but what confused and contradictory statements they would make, and how annoyed we should be if anybody dared to say so to us. Faith and reason unfortunately will not walk kindly hand in hand, and Lord William felt that amid the latter-day clash of theories, new fields of thought were being opened to us, thoroughly recognising how some of the old moth-eaten shibboleths, we have so often repeated, have prevented us forming unbiased judgments. He maintained that ancient religions had no creeds but were fed and brought up, so to speak, on institutions and facts. Faith is not peculiar to Christianity, it is the ordinary characteristic of the highly developed religions. Lord Bill always said he felt it was possible to be a good Christian without being a theologian. I think “good Christian” exactly describes Lord Bill, yet how hard it is to define a good Christian when ideals among Christians differ so greatly in different countries and ages. St. Ethelreda was canonised for never washing; this was not Lord Bill’s Christianity, though I have known some people who certainly qualified, but as far as I know, have as yet, had no justice displayed towards them. Then again St. Onofries was called a saint because he disappeared into the desert seeing nobody and doing nothing (so he said), but this saint does not matter at the present moment; what does matter is the extreme difficulty we all find in locating the middle distance between two points, when the points do not stand still.