CHAPTER XXXV.

The Dismissal.

1860-61.

F this work at Hayle was not " a success," in every sense of the word, I do not yet know what success in parochial ministry is. If large congregations may be counted; many communicants taken into reckoning; with frequent services, and schools full of children-we certainly had these. But above all, we had a continual ingathering of souls, who will testify throughout eternity of the blessedness and reality of the work of God during the time I was there.

It so happened that as we approached the term of three years, of which I had been premonished when I first came, that my dear friend, Mr. Aitken, came to pay us a visit. He preached with more amazing power than ever. His appeals were altogether overwhelming, and I do not wonder that the people fell on their knees, as they did then and there, and cried aloud for mercy.

A newspaper reporter who came to hear this "great man" preach, was at first observed to be writing very diligently; then he paused, and his hand fell; then his pencil and book went from his grasp; presently he himself fell on

THE REPORTER'S REPORT.

311

his knees, and began to cry for mercy. We were curious afterwards to read his report.

In it the grateful man acknowledged his indebtedness, and the blessing he had received. As to the sermon, he likened it to one of the storms of the great Atlantic. He

said, "At such a time it is interesting to stand on the shore and watch the sea, and to note the power of wind and waves while the storm is raging. Even then it is sometimes terrific enough; but how much more so when the wind veers and the mighty waves come rolling in one after another, and breaking with tremendous force upon the rocks on which we stand! So it was with this preacher. All eyes were fixed on him when he gave out his text, and proceeded with his usual introduction. Now and then he alarmed and roused us with the power of his oratory; but when he turned to apply his subject to the consciences of the people, he became irresistible. Immediately, there was heard on all sides a cry for mercy. The stentorian voice of the preacher was audible above all others as he went on to apply the Word with unrelenting force, till very few hearts, however hard, remained unbroken."

This was a memorable day with us. Twice was the church filled and emptied; and again a third time, in the evening the people crowded in and filled the place. Far into the night we wrought amongst the anxious and broken-hearted, bidding them to look at the Crucified One and live.

Mr. Aitken was not a man who raked cinders over the fire, but rather raked them off, and that in true kindness and love; but with terrible and awful plainness he showed the danger of trifling with the Gospel, and presuming upon God's love and forbearance.

On Monday evening we invited the people to assemble in the large schoolroom, which was filled to excess. Here I thought that the schoolmaster's desk would have been

demolished under the tremendous energy and force, both mental and physical, of this preacher. At the first sign of a breakdown among the people, the great, tall man, in his long coat or cassock, came majestically striding out from behind the desk. That was enough. A hard rough-looking sailor, who was sitting by, with his eyes fixed on Mr. Aitken for a long time, fell on his knees and began to roar aloud for mercy, and very many others followed his example.

I asked this man afterwards what it was that had had such an effect upon him? "Oh," he replied, drawing his breath, as if he had scarcely yet recovered from the shock, "that big man was bad enough the other side of the desk, but when he came forth to the front, I didn't know what would happen to me. I was obliged to cry out for mercy; I couldn't help it.”

The "big man," like the "Stormy Petrel," was just in his element in such a scene. In the gladness and joy of his heart he rejoiced and shouted, "Glory-glory be to God !" in a way which no one else could imitate or follow.

In the midst of this scene of confusion (as it must have appeared to an outside observer, if such an one was there), sat a woman, looking on at the people praying and praising God, when all at once Mr. Aitken turned suddenly upon her and said, "And you, my sister!" Immediately she gave a scream, and was down on her knees in a moment, crying for mercy as loud as the loudest.

If Cornish people like a noise, they certainly had it that evening to their hearts' content. As I have said before, when there is a real power of the Spirit present, the outpouring of the heart with noisy demonstration is joyous to those who go with the stream, and are in sympathy with it; but if those present stop to doubt the propriety of such an outcry, and begin to rebuke those who make it, then I think the answer that the Lord gave the Pharisees would still be

applicable: "I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out" (Luke xix. 40).

It was a great triumph, and the rams' horns did more execution in these two days than the silver trumpets had done in as many years.

The next day, as soon as Mr. Aitken had gone, the rector came to see me. He appeared to be somewhat embarrassed at first, but after a little time said (looking on the ground), "You know I am no revivalist. I do not like all this uproar. I cannot have it." He then went on to say that he wished me to leave, for though he had given a guarantee that if I succeeded, he would build me a church and endow it, he could not do anything of the kind now, for he did not consider my work any success whateverquite the contrary. "These converted people (as you call them) are no churchmen!"

I replied, that I had taken his voice as from God in inviting me, and I supposed that I must take the same for my dismissal, if he really intended it; but I urged upon him to consider the matter well before he broke up the work which was going on there, for whatever he thought about it it was undoubtedly a work of God, though one certainly not very common in churches

Without saying another word he took up his hat and went away. His departure was so abrupt that I could not believe he intended me to receive this as six months' notice. Consequently, I went on with my work as usual, finding plenty to do, more especially after Mr. Aitken's energetic visit. There were many new converts to add to our classes; anxious ones to be guided and led to Christ; and brokenhearted and despairing ones to be comforted and built up. The work under such a preacher is by no means finished with his visit, however long or short it may be; but, on the contrary, it may rather be said to begin there.

After some months, the rector came again to remind me that he had given me notice more than five months before, and that he wished me to leave at the beginning of the year, as he had secured the services of a clergyman whose views were in accordance with his own. I was much grieved at this, and could only lay it before the Lord, and beg of Him to order all according to His will.

The following morning, without any seeking on my part, I received an invitation from Bath, asking me to come and take charge of the district of St. Paul's, in the parish of Holy Trinity. Thus was the door shut behind me, and another opened in front. This was so unmistakable, that I could not but be satisfied, and acquiesce in the manifest will of God; though, naturally, I felt great sorrow at having to leave the people and the work I loved so well. I said nothing about my dismissal, but went on with my various. engagements as usual, though I had only a little more than three weeks left me.

By some means it appeared in the newspapers, that I was appointed to a district in Bath, and another clergyman was named as my successor at St. John's, Hayle. This fell as a great blow upon my people, who were both grieved and angry; but I could not comfort them, any more than I could help myself.

The last Christmas-day came and went, a sad and sorrowful day it was; then the last day of the year, and the last night. We held our watch-night service as usual, thanking God for the mercies of the past, and entered upon the new year with thanksgiving and prayer.

Thus ended my work, and eventful sojourn at Hayle, a little more than three years after it began. A very sorrowful trial it was, and one of bitter disappointment; but the Lord's leading was clear, and I have since proved that it was all