He said, “I cannot conscientiously allow it.  It is against the Canons.”

“Which Canon is it against?” I asked.

He took down a book and showed it me, but casting my eyes on the one before, and another which followed, I found that we neither of us observed the one or the other.  Why, then, be so zealous about this?  “Besides,” I said, “you are not responsible; you have not asked me, nor have I asked your consent.  Your conscience need not be troubled about the matter.”

“But,” he said, impatiently, “I am determined that you shall not preach in this parish.  I will inform the Bishop.”

I replied, that “the Bishop had not any jurisdiction in this case; there is no law on the subject.  The Conventicle Act only refers to worship, not to service or preaching.”

He said, that he “could see no difference whatever between worship and service.”

“But,” I said, “I am sure the Bishop knows, and will acknowledge, the great difference between these two.”

Then, changing his tone, he said, “Now, come, there’s a good fellow, don’t preach at the Town Hall.”

“My dear man,” I answered, “I am not a ‘good fellow’ at all I cannot give it up.”

“Then,” he said, “at least please to defer your address for a week, till we can get the Bishop’s decision.”

He asked so kindly and earnestly, and made such a point of it, that I consented to wait for the Bishop’s answer, and defer the preaching for a week.  He was very pleased, and said that I was indeed a ‘good fellow’, but the praise I got from him barely satisfied my conscience, and I was ashamed to meet my friends.  I had not gone far before my courage failed; so, going back, I said that “I must withdraw my consent to defer the meeting.  I will take the consequences and responsibilities, and go on.”

“No, no.” cried the vicar, “I will arrange for the Postponement of your meeting.  Look here, I have written out a notice for the crier; he shall go round the town at once, and tell the people that the meeting is unavoidably deferred for a week.”

I was very reluctantly persuaded to yield, and then went to my friend and told him what I had done.  He was very much vexed with me, and said, “Then we must go at once and tell the mayor before he hears the crier.”  We did so, and found that this personage was disappointed too, and advised me to go away out of sight of the people.  Accordingly, my friend and I went to a house which commanded a good view of the town and principal streets, from whence we could see the people assembling and dispersing.  A large gang of them stood opposite my friend’s house, and asked if I would not preach to them in the open air; and when they ascertained that the vicar had hindered the preaching, they were much exasperated.

In the evening I went back to my own parish, and had the usual service, which I found very refreshing after so much bickering about technicalities.