In his perplexity the curate went to see the Bishop (Lonsdale) of Lichfield.  When his lordship had ascertained the cause of the trouble, he took up a pamphlet which was lying on the table, and said, “If you cannot get Mr. Aitken back, send for this gentleman, and pay his expenses.”  “This gentleman,” meant the author of the pamphlet, which his lordship held in his hand, namely, myself; “his name and address are here.” said the Bishop; “take the book and read it carefully; he seems to have both knowledge and experience in such matters.”

I was written to forthwith, and the letter urged me to “come at once.”  In compliance, I started off that night, and reaching the place on Saturday afternoon, opened a mission the same evening without further notice.  On Sunday I preached three times, and went to the school-room for the after-meeting.  There we had a scene which, for noise and confusion was quite Cornish.  Men and women cried aloud for mercy, while some believers who were there shouted for joy.  The curate in charge was completely bewildered, but felt he could do nothing; and seeing, as he remarked, that I appeared to understand it and know what I was about, he thought he had better remain still, till the noisy meeting was over.  That same night, before he retired, he gave his heart to God.

The work went on in this place with the force as of an explosion; just as if hungry desires had been pent up a long time, and now they had vent and opportunity to be satisfied.  The church was crowded:  every day, even in the week; and we were kept in the schoolroom night after night till twelve and one o’clock.

The town was a dark, smoky, sulphury place, and the air filled with exhalations and iron filings from the various works.  It was a dreadful atmosphere, and everything was black and dirty; the red fires from the furnaces around glared all night long and presented an awful appearance.  To come from the pure air and beautiful scenery of Cornwall into such a place as this, was most trying and uncomfortable; but the reward was great.  The work was deeply interesting, and scores of men and women of all classes, besides five clergymen, professed to be converted that week.

The devil did not leave us alone; he was very angry, and raised up a great opposition.  The rector of the old church, who used to be most benevolent and smiling, suddenly changed, and made it his business to call on the curate in charge of the church, to tell him that he was quite sure that his friend the vicar (who was away at the time in ill health) would never have sanctioned this excitement.  The curate said that the Bishop had bid him invite Mr. Haslam, and that he had done so, not knowing anything further about me or my work.  The rector went off to write to the Bishop forthwith, and in the meantime ordered bills to be posted all over the town, warning people against “the Cornish fanaticism at St. James’s,” which, of course, had the effect of drawing out a greater concourse of people.