The church became so full that the people could hardly find room. It is related that even the clerk's desk was invaded, and that when Mr. Atkinson returned after a holiday the clerk met him with the following strange welcome:—
"Oh, sir, I am so glad you are come: Now we shall have some room!"
On the very first Sunday he took duty he showed the metal of which he was made; for, in going home after service, he heard voices high in dispute in one of the houses he passed. Straightway he went in, reproved the couple who were at strife, and knelt down to pray. Peace was restored, and Simeon's character for earnestness was confirmed.
Now came an eventful period in this good man's life. The minister of Trinity Church, Cambridge, having died, Simeon was appointed by the bishop.
The parishioners, however, desired to have as minister the curate; and, as it was impossible to gratify their wish, they made matters as unpleasant as possible for Simeon.
The pew doors were nearly all kept locked, so that the space left for the congregation was much reduced.
On the first Sunday there was practically no congregation; but later on people could not resist his influence, and the church began to fill. To provide places for those who came, Simeon had seats placed in various parts of the building. The churchwardens, however, threw them out into the church-yard!
It was an uncomfortable beginning; but Simeon persevered. He began a course of Sunday evening lectures, to which the people flocked in crowds; but the churchwardens locked the church doors and carried off the keys.
Besides beings rude and unmannerly, that was distinctly illegal; but
Simeon put up with the affront for the sake of peace.
When necessary he could be firm. The young men threw stones at the church windows and broke them. On one occasion Simeon discovered the offender, and obliged him to read a public confession of his fault.