with a clean white cloth, and after the morning service some five or six partook of the Holy Supper, which was administered, the communicants meekly kneeling on the ground. A plain drinking glass was all the church could then afford, although many ounces of gold have since been dug from below the very spot where the altar stood.
The old store—the church, as it was often called—began to fall into decay. It was repaired once and considerable addition made to it. The Bishop of Melbourne paid his first visit to his Castlemaine flock and preached and blessed the people in this edifice. One day a gentleman in judicial robes was seen entering that humble building who, according to a godly custom at home, went to offer holy worship to Him who is the judge of all. But, by some means, this practice was not continued. In 1856 another great personage—the late Sir Charles Hotham, the Governor—accompanied by his lady and suite, attended church, and joined at the celebration of the Holy Eucharist, showing by their presence a sense of Christian duty, and by their deportment a spirit of humility in the presence and worship of Him who is the Governor of all. But the wind and the rain exercised their dominion, and the building fell fast into decay. The congregation, after a repetition of Sunday shower baths, resolved on getting a better, more substantial, and commodious place of worship. However, by this time an occasional hassock appeared, and a small harmonium was a great addition to the choir, and a great step in advance of the time when the minister and myself (who could only start two tunes between us) contrived to lead the service of praise, and for a little variety took the lead alternately. The font was a simple affair; a tea cup from the parsonage was taken to the creek, filled, and brought by a parishioner. As yet there was no regular afternoon service, and the minister would walk off to some creek side, soon collecting a congregation.
The worthy bishop went to Forest Creek and mounted the best pulpit of wood he could get—an old tree-stump—and preached to the people the glad tidings of salvation. Mr. Cheyne was removed to another sphere of labour, and the Rev. J. Barlow supplied his place. Prior to Mr. Cheyne’s removal he had the pleasure of seeing, as well as the honour of admitting into the bosom of the church, a native man named “Wedgemain” by his tribe, and “John” in the ordinance of holy baptism. I stood sponsor. After this he was married in the church the same day to a half-caste of another tribe. I gave the bride away, and the bridesmaids and witnesses were the few blackfellows and their lubras. Some had courage to approach the altar rails, but a few others of the blanket-wearing tribe stood by the door. J. W. signed his name in the records of the church, but poor Mary had to make her mark.
