The Earl of Falmouth, who laid the stone, contributed a thousand pounds towards the edifice; his mother gave three hundred pounds for a peal of bells; and others of the gentry who were present contributed; so that upwards of eighteen hundred pounds was promised that day.  Just twelve months after, July 20, 1848, the same company, with many others, and the Bishop of Exeter (Phillpotts) came to consecrate the “beautiful church.”

In the meantime, between the stone-laying and the consecration, the Parsonage house had been built, and, more than that, it was even papered, furnished, and inhabited!  Besides all this, there was a garden made, and a doorway, after an ecclesiastical mode, leading into the churchyard, with this inscription over it:—­

“Be true to Church,
Be kind to poor,
O minister, for evermore.”

In this church there were super-altars, candles, triptych, and also a painted window; organ, choir, and six bells; so that for those days it was considered a very complete thing.  “The priest of Baldhu,” with his cassock and square cap, was quite a character in his small way.  He preached in a surplice, of course, and propounded Church tactics, firmly contending for the Church teaching.  The Wesleyans and others had their distinctive tenets, the Church must have hers:  they had their members enrolled, the Church must have hers; therefore he would have a “guild,” with the view of keeping his people together.  Outwardly there was an esprit de corps, and the parishioners came to church, and took an interest in the proceedings; but it was easy to see that their hearts were elsewhere.  Still I went on, hoping against hope, “building from the top” without any foundation, teaching people to live before they were born!

CHAPTER 6

The Awakening, 1848-51.

He more earnestly I wrought among the people, and the better I knew them, the more I saw that the mere attachment to the Church, and punctual attendance at the services or frequency of Communion, was not sufficient.  I wanted something deeper.  I wanted to reach their hearts in order to do them good.

Whether this desire sprang up in the ordinary progress by which God was imperceptibly leading me, or from a story I heard at a clerical meeting, I know not—­perhaps from both.  My mind was evidently as ground prepared to receive the warning.  The story was about a dream a clergyman had.  He thought the Judgment day was come, and that there was, as it were, a great visitation—­greater than the Bishop’s.  The clergy were mustering, and appeared in their gowns, but instead of being alone, they had part of their congregations with them.  Some had a few followers, others had more, and some a great many; and ail these received a gracious smile from the Judge when their names were called.  The clergyman who dreamed was waiting, as he supposed, with a large number of people at his back When his turn came he went forward; but, as he approached, he saw that the Judge’s countenance was sad and dark.  In a sudden impulse of suspicion he looked back; and lo! there was no one behind him.  He stopped, not daring to go any further, and turning to look at the Judge, saw that His countenance was full of wrath.  This dream had such an effect upon him that he began to attend to his parish and care for the souls of his people.