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Rh Till I came to Cambridge I had made no acquaintance with the Early English, or 1st pointed, style, as of it we have scarcely an example in Devon.

Every Sunday I attended at S. Edward's Church. It was boxed up with deal pews to the very altar-rails. On Communion Sundays—once a month—the altar was enveloped in a huge white linen table-cloth reaching to the ground in front and at the ends; and a black bottle stood in the middle with a white napkin cast over it.

The celebrant occupied the north end, exposing his profile to the congregation. Goodwin possessed a trick of repeatedly lifting and turning his head out of his cravat, in an odd bird-like manner, and this was specially noticeable when he stood sideways at the altar.

I suppose that the habit of being "always round the corner, sir!" has very nearly gone out everywhere. Few can conceive of the comical aspect presented when two parsons, or two bishops, occupied the two ends of the Holy table. My grandmother possessed a seal, representing a pair of doves drinking out of a patera, and when I saw these comical creatures thus planted at the table, bobbing to one another, I was invariably reminded of the cameo in my grandmother's seal, save that the doves were replaced by magpies.

I entertained a great regard for Goodwin. He was a most worthy man, but hardly qualified to be a bishop, as he lacked parochial experience except as vicar of S. Edward's, a very small parish, and his work in it was almost wholly confined to Sunday duty in the church. I was confirmed from his house by the Bishop of Ely; he gave me no religious preparatory instruction whatever, and although I went from him directly into College life, not one word did he speak to me in advice against the temptations that might assail me. This was just the type of man sought out to occupy episcopal thrones, worthy men in their way, sometimes intellectual, but not always so, and totally inexperienced in dealing with souls.

As a bishop, I have no doubt that he wore his gaiters and apron becomingly, but Carlisle was a diocese that wanted at its head something more than a mathematician in gaiters and apron.