, and having passed my examination, I was
sent with letters dimissory to the Bishop of Salisbury (Denison), to
whom I was also sent, a year afterwards, for priest's orders. I was very
weak, and much exhausted with travelling, but still went on, though I
know not how.

The long-desired day at length arrived, and I was duly ordained; but
instead of being full of joy, I became much depressed in mind and body,
and could not rouse myself from dwelling upon the Bishop's address,
which was very solemn. He told us that we were going to take charge of
the souls of our parishioners, and that God would require them at our
hands; we must take heed how we tended the Lord's flock. Altogether, it
was more than I had calculated upon; and feeling very ill that
afternoon, I thought that I had undertaken a burden which would
certainly be my ruin. "What could I do with souls?" My idea of
ordination was to be a clergyman, read the prayers, preach sermons, and
do all I could to bring people to church; but how could I answer for
souls which had to live for ever? and what was I to do with them?

In the evening, I so far roused myself as to go amongst the other
candidates, to sound them, and ascertain what were their feelings with
regard to the Bishop's solemn address! They merely thought that it was
very beautiful, and that he was a holy man; and then some of them
proposed that we should all go in a riding party, to see Stonehenge, the
next day. It was especially thought that a drive on the Wiltshire plains
could do me a great deal of good, if I did not feel strong enough to
ride on horseback. I agreed to this, and went with them to see this
famous temple of Druidical worship; and after that set off for Plymouth,
on my way to the far west. But, alas! the charm of ordination had fled,
and I was more than half sorry that I had undertaken so much. It had
been done so precipitately too, for even now it was only ten days since
I had seen the physician.

After resting a day, I proceeded to Truro, and then took a post-chaise
and drove out to my first parish, called Perranzabuloe, which was
situated about eight miles from Truro, on the north coast of Cornwall. I
alighted at an old manor house, where I was to have apartments with a
farmer and his family. Being much fatigued, I soon retired to bed,
anything but happy, or pleased with the bleak and' rough-looking place
to which I had come.

I slept well, however, and the next morning felt considerabl