Art, religion, and life, all in a grand mix-chaotic tangle. Lawrence was talking for the joy of his thought to the woman who he knew would enjoy it.
"You see, Claire," he said after a long discussion, "in the religious instinct we find very little besides a fear of the unknown. What else there is in it is the more valuable part, and it is this lesser section that we can develop and use to advantage."
"What is this lesser section?" she asked.
"The vital desire to create for our God's sake. If we could build that into its real place, stimulated as it is by the overwhelming appreciation of beauty in nature, we could establish something far more worth while than a mere deceiving of men about their own kind, their faults, and their relations."
"You aren't quite fair, Lawrence," she protested. "In so far as the church makes for a stronger socialization, it is a good."
"But does it always promote that very effectively? Most of the socialization could be better carried on where really educated people were educators. The few of them there are in our schools now are hampered as much as they are helped by the church."
"I don't agree," she said. "The church does hamper education in higher branches, undoubtedly, but in the kindergartens and grades it is a good."
"I don't know," he responded; "I never saw it."
"Well," she cried suddenly, and laughed, "whatever we think of the church, I agree that religion isn't always there, and when it is, barring a few liberal exceptions, it is generally misdirected."
"And here you and I sit in the Andes Mountains talking when we might be making love," he laughed.