“Why, sir,” said the sexton, “the church have been crammed full this half-hour.  It’s no use ringing the bell, sure, for we ain’t got no room for no more people.”

“Now, that is remarkable,” said the vicar.  “I do think, after all, the Lord would have us go on.  What do you think?” he said, turning to me.

I replied, “Without doubt I think so.  I cannot suppose that the Lord would send such men, in such a tone, to stop His work.”

“Well, then,” said the vicar, “we will go on till the end of the week.”

But this could not be; for in the morning, as soon as he had decided to stop the services, I sat down and wrote to a cousin of mine, in the neighbourhood (and the letter had gone), to get me the parish church for the next evening, and said, “I would come to her on a visit for a few days, as my preaching in this place was brought to an end.”

I spoke that evening, and announced that I would do so again on Thursday.  On the following day I went on this promised visit to another part of the county, and was not long in the company of my cousin, before I found out that she had been brought up in Evangelical doctrines, and hated Puseyism; but that she had never been converted.  In the evening, we went to the Minster Church, the use of which she had obtained for me.  There, I preached from the words, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” (I did not know then, as I old now, that this is a text for believers.) Accommodating it for my purpose, I made out that many people assented to evangelical doctrines, without yielding to them:  that is, they heard the knocking, but did not open the door and receive the Saviour; therefore, they remained unsaved; and if they died like that, would be lost for ever!

When I first ascended the pulpit, which stood outside of a high chancel screen, I looked towards the nave, and saw it filled with high pews, which, as I thought, were for the most part empty; whereas, I could see that the choir and chancel, which was brightly lighted, was full of choir-men and boys, besides many people; so instead of turning my back upon the many in the lighted chancel, and addressing myself to the unseen few in the large dark nave, I turned round in the pulpit, and, looking through the screen, I preached to those I could see.  The people in the nave, however, were most attentive to hear; and after the sermon came up and asked me why I had turned my back on them, for they could not hear all I said.  Evidently they had heard something which had interested them.  Seeing so many were anxious, we invited those who wished for further help, or instruction, to come home with us.  Many did so, and we held a kind of after-meeting, in which my cousin and several others found peace.