For a
while Mr. Pontifex, senior, was really pleased, and told his son he
would present him with the works of any standard writer whom he
might select. The young man chose the works of Bacon, and Bacon
accordingly made his appearance in ten nicely bound volumes. A
little inspection, however, showed that the copy was a second-hand
one.
Now that he had taken his degree, the next thing to look forward
to was ordination- about which Theobald had thought little hitherto
beyond acquiescing in it as something that would come as a matter of
course some day. Now, however, it had actually come and was
asserting itself as a thing which should be only a few months off, and
this rather frightened him, inasmuch as there would be no way out of
it when he was once in it. He did not like the near view of ordination
as well as the distant one, and even made some feeble efforts to
escape, as may be perceived by the following correspondence which
his son Ernest found among his father's papers written on gilt-edged
paper, in faded ink, and tied neatly round with a piece of tape, but
without any note or comment. I have altered nothing. The letters are
as follows:
"MY DEAR FATHER,- I do not like opening up a question which has been
considered settled, but as the time approaches I begin to be very
doubtful how far I am fitted to be a clergyman.
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