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England's green and pleasant land

and close to its heart, Orbiston Parva.

For centuries, a quiet backwater,

today Orbiston Parva

moves proudly along the broad highway
of human progress.

But man doesn't live by bread alone.

For his material needs,
an infinite variety.

For his spiritual needs,
a variety of the infinite.

...and I remember a young girl,

coming to the mercy seat
on a Saturday night,

ready to receive.

But when it comes to a christening
a wedding or a burial,

the majority would undoubtedly claim
to be Church of England.

It is a Sunday evening,

and the townsfolk are engaged
in their customary devotions.

Don't shoot me, I'm a friend!

I beg you! Don't!

All the fours, droopy drawers,

all in heaven, seventy-seven!

That's the lot.

Nobody ever kissed me
the way you do.

Nobody?

No, nobody.

Here among the mossy records
of mortality,

the name Despard is dominant,

as elsewhere in Orbiston Parva.

Not far from Trinity Church,
stands a modern factory,

the brainchild of the latest
of the Despard line.

Tranquilax
has brought comfort to millions,

wealth to Orbiston Parva,

and re-emphasised the influence
of the Despard family upon the town.

And since any appointment
to the living of Holy Trinity,

is vested in the family,

that influence may be said to extend

even into the life to come.

Personally,
I recommend this man, Smallwood.

I knew his father at Oxford.

He's just the right type of man
for this parish.

Is he married?

-No.
-Pity.

Sir Georges always said
a person should take a wife,

much healthier, safer too.

I don't know. Doesn't St. Paul say:

"It is good for a man
not to touch a woman?"

St. Paul was a very queer man.

Chastity's all very well,
but it can lead to difficulties.

Personally, I find it is a problem
that becomes much easier...

as one grows older.

Ah, Simpson.

Archdeacon,
I suppose I must put his name

up to the Parochial Church Council.

Does he have any money of his own?

-Oh, yes.
-Good.

A poor parson's such an embarrassment.
Does he drink?

The occasional glass of wine.

That'll be a welcome change
after the last one.

I can assure you, Lady Despard,

Beecham was a teetotaller
before he came to Orbiston Parva.

How is he doctrinally?

Middle-of-the-road,
not too high, not too low.

Good. Sir George had such a horror
of roman practices.

Come along, my little darlings, eat it up.

Perhaps, you'd care to discuss
this appointment with Sir Geoffrey first.

I'm afraid my son takes little interest
in the affairs of the town.

He does come down occasionally
to visit the factory,

otherwise, I hardly see him.

I must say both you and your late husband

have always been most generous
to the church.

I don't know what we should have done
without you.

Sir George always tried
to do what he could.

I feel I must do the same.

Happily, my dear Lady Despard,

none of our activities in this life
goes unrecorded.

Again? Oh, dear.

I sometimes wish the Boy Scout movement
had never been thought of.

"...and your nomination was
this morning approved by the Bishop."

"Unhappily, I cannot be present
at your institution and induction."

"I have been rather overdoing it lately,

and my dear friend Lord Buckley

has kindly invited me
to join his yacht at Monte Carlo

for a short cruise."

"But I will certainly visit you
soon after my return. Kind regards."

Well, I've just nice time
to catch my train.

Get that off to Mr. Smallwood today,
Miss Palmer.

Yes, Archdeacon. Have a good time.

It's rest I'm going for, Miss Palmer.
There's no "good time" about it.

All right, relax everybody.
Old gas-and-gaiters has gone.

Molly dear, be an angel and look up
Reverend John Smallwood's address.

In the register?

No, I wouldn't bother.
It'll be in the file over there.

Smallwood.

John Edward Smallwood.
Is that the one?

Yes, that'll be him. Let's have it.

Thank you, dear.

"Smallwood, Fairfield Prison,
near Grimsdyke, Dorset."

Taxi for the Reverend Smallwood
taking to the station.

Ok. You wait over there.

He's just gone on the cells, sir,

saying goodbye
to his flock of little black sheep.

I don't mind telling you, Wilson,

I shall be damned glad
to be rid of the fellow.

He's certainly got some queer ideas.

I mean, that sermon of his last Sunday:

"Judge not, lest ye be judged",
to a bunch of thieves.

Damned idiot!

Only yesterday he was trying to tell me
181 had repented, if you please.

He ought to be made a trusty.

One eight one! A trusty!

If he sprouted wings and halo,
I wouldn't trust him!

That's what I told him.
You know what he said?

"To be a trustworthy,
a man has to be trusted."

Would you believe it?
There's a bloody fine way to run a prison.

Didn't you say he'd look in
before he went?

-That's right, sir.
-Isn't that typical!

There he goes now.

It's more important to say goodbye
to a bunch of crooks than to me.

Half a mo, something funny here.

That's not him!

All right, open up.

Wait! Hold!

Hey! You!

Come on, let's have a look.

All right, 181. So the Chaplain was right.

You've had the call, haven't you?

-Taken halo with the suit.
-Yes, he's taken them all right.

Ordained and unfrocked
in a matter of minutes. Quite a record.

Well, 181,
you're going into retreat for a time.

Solitary confinement.

Now we'll say goodbye to Smallwood.
Come on.

-Which cell is it?
-Just here, sir.

All right, untie him.

Smallwood, it seems that one of your flock
was a wolf in your clothing.

I hope you don't mind. We've taken
the liberty of rounding him up,

and putting him back in the cage.

Oh, tough!
I don't know what he hit me with.

-The Chaplain's things, sir.
-Thank you.

Here you are, Smallwood.

Let's hope they don't have
the pants off you in Orbiston Parva.

-Excuse me. Can I get a bus here?
-You'll be lucky.

Well, do you think you could arrange--

Not me, mate. I got work to do.

Excuse me?

Can you tell me how far it is
to Holy Trinity Vicarage, please?

Well, Reverend,
I think I can tell you that.

-It's well over a mile from here.
-Is it?

Is there a bus service?

Man, you've just missed the bus.

Oh dear!
It looks like I'm going to have to walk.

Wait a minute, Reverend.

You're not going to walk all that way
carrying those heavy bags!

If you don't mind riding with the trash,
you're welcome to ride along with me.

That's very kind of you indeed.
Thank you very much.

You go round and hop in the other side.
I'll carry this one.

Right, I will.

-Open the door and I'll carry this in.
-All right, thank you.

-I tell you, it is.
-It can't be!

It is, I tell you. I saw his collar.

Here you are, Reverend.

Is there something else
I can do for you?

No thanks, lad, you've done your bit
and I'm very grateful.

Man, we all got to help one another.

Is that it?

Yes. What would you say
to a real good cup of tea?

Reverend, I've been here just long enough
never to say no to a cup of tea.

Let's find out where the kitchen is.

I must say, it's a rather peculiar way
for a new vicar to arrive.

Do you think we should ask him in
for a cup of tea or something?

I don't see why.
It's rather up to him, I think.

Come on, lad. Sit down.

This is a big day for me.
My first parish, you know.

-Thank you, Reverend.
-Here, you cut the bread.

I don't mind telling you I'm glad
to have someone to share it with.

Your family, Reverend,
are they in the church too?

No. My mum and dad
used to keep a little grocery shop,

but it barely kept them.

There was always more money on the slate
than there was in the till.

Bless them,
they could never refuse anybody.

That sounds just like my mum.

She had ten children,
six girls and four boys.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

I'm Matthew.

My mum,
she could never refuse anybody either.

-What about your dad?
-Oh, man, I don't know.

We all had different fathers.

But my mum used to say:
"You are all good Christian children,

you got the same father in heaven."

She was right enough there, Matthew.

Our mum used to say: "God is love."

And for the Lord's sake,
she just never stopped loving.

But she sent you to church regularly?

No, man, no.
She never sent us, she took us.

You know, Reverend,
back home, our church had a tin roof,

and when the rain came,

you couldn't hear nothing
of what the preacher was saying.

So then, we just had to sing hymns.

I tell you, if the Lord ever listened,
he must have put cotton wool in his ears

Yeah, man, hallelujah!

Hallelujah indeed, Matthew.

There was "Christian soldiers".

That was one we used to sing.

"All the saints", that was another.

And "Milk and Honey".

"Jerusalem the Golden"!

Jerusalem the Golden

You got it, man! And my favourite.

-You know what that was?
-What was it?

I'll play it for you.

Angels in the heights adore him

Ye behold him face to face

Saints triumphant bow before him

Gathere'd in from every race

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Praise with us the God of grace

You're right.
I mean we always go to church at Easter,

except when the weather is nice,

my hubby likes to take me out
on a day trip. Mind you,

we are Christians.
There's no doubt about that.

I do think the church
does try and do good, but I mean

you simply haven't the time, have you?
I'm sure you understand.

Sorry, I've left my washing-machine
switched on, so if you'll excuse me.

Thank you very much.

No doubt about it, Vicar.

The needs for Christianity
has never been greater than it is today.

But what you've got to show,

is it's no good hoping for credit
in the next world,

until they build up a balance in this.
Same as banking.

Actually, I think we're all
pretty religious round here,

and you simply can't let it interfere
with ordinary life, can you?

Well, the church's all right for the rich,
isn't it?

They got something to be thankful for,
haven't they?

You don't have to go to church
to be a Christian, do you?

I mean, only squares go to church,
don't they?

So Orbiston Parva's taken
the wind out of you already, man.

Yes.

My name's Owen Thomas.

How do you do? My name's Smallwood.

That's how this place gets you, chaps.

You go flat like that tyre.

It doesn't seem to have flattened you,
does it?

Only because in there, I give them
plenty of the fiery furnace stuff.

That's the trouble with the C. of E.
You've put out the fires of hell.

Well, it makes it easier
to see the light above.

That's where you're wrong, man.
In a place like this,

it's only the fires of hell
that keep the churches warm.

I'd like to stay
and argue that point with you,

but I'd better be getting a move on
before the rain comes down.

Cheerio!

You wait, Smallwood!

I tell you, Orbiston Parva
is an absolute Sodom of a place!

I mean,
you can't help liking it, can you?

Get out of here!

I won't half tan your arse for this,
Willie Smith!

Garn! Belt up!

Nosy little bleeder!
Who is he then, Doris?

One of my brothers. Sex-mad, I reckon.

Good morning, Joyce.

Geoffrey, the eviction order
has just been served on.

Just look at the place.

They've turned it
into a damned garbage dump.

What about the Council's
planning committee, Fowler?

They're all fixed, Sir Geoffrey.
It'll go through all right.

Do you want our legal boys
to draw up the building contract?

If you wouldn't mind, Sir Geoffrey,

for the moment, I'd prefer to have
a gentleman's agreement.

Seeing I'm on the Council myself,
I think it would look better.

If that's how you want it.

In the meantime,
we'll go through the motions

of putting the job out to tender.

Thank you, Sir Geoffrey, very much.

My only worry was this eviction order.

These local boys can be a bit sticky
when it comes to splitting up families.

Nonsense. This building's going to put
a lot of money

into a lot of pockets around here.

Nobody's going to worry his head
about that scruffy Smith family.

-But you've no right to be here!
-Who says?

We got no rights now, is that it?
The poor man has no rights now!

Mr. Smith, of course you've got rights.

But the eviction order means

that you must be off this land
by next Monday.

Oh, does it!

Mum! She's down there again!

Shut up, will you!
Go on, Harry, why don't you do him?

-Did you get what I said, Mr. Smith?
-I get it all right.

What am I supposed to do with this lot?

The children will be moved to the homes,
run by the County Council,

and the grown-ups to accommodation
in Orbiston Parva.

Who's going to bloody pay?
That's what I want to know.

Your husband, of course!

-What with?
-My business is here.

You'll have to go out to work, Mr. Smith
Most people do, you know.

Go out to work?

Go out to work?

I can't afford to do that!

You can't afford to do anything else.

No wonder the country's
in the bloody state it is.

Tell him, Harry.
Just give an idea of the situation.

I get four pounds ten a week
National Assistance for me and the missus.

There's 17 bob for each of the kids.
That brings it up to ten pounds nine.

There's family allowances
which bring it up to 14 pounds.

On top of which, I get 18 bob a week
from my Army pension For my cough.

Ten bob a week prisoners' aid,
and 76 from the Legion.

-Then there's her three.
-There's my three.

My sister-in-law
and her three's dependent.

That brings it up to 90 pounds ten.

All right, Mr. Charlie Bloody Claw.

You tell me where I can pick up
that sort of money working.

With your head for the fiddle,
I'd try the City of London.

My head for the fiddle!

You're calling me a fiddler now,
are you?

You all heard that, didn't you?

I could have you for libel!

It's a diabolical liberty!

Get out of here!

Don't forget! You'll be out of here
by Monday, or you're all for it!

What does his devil-dodger want?

-Good afternoon. What's going on?
-What do you want?

I'm the new vicar.
I've come round to introduce myself.

You're from the Council too then?

Mum!

Will you shut up!

No, I've just come to Holy Trinity.
You're in my parish and--

What do you want then?

I just go round to say hello

and see if there's anything you wanted.

Oh, I see.

You come at the right time,
you have, Vicar.

Do you mind if I sit down?
I'm still a casualty, you see.

-I only get 18 bob a week from the Army.
-Not a very great deal, is it?

I'm not complaining.

Win, go and get the Vicar
a nice cup of tea.

Win, while you're making it,
pop baby for me, will you?

Sidney, go and get the Vicar
a chair to sit on.

Don't you worry about me. I'll sit here.

You take that fag out of your face.
That's all that is.

What exactly is the trouble?

Let me put it to you man to man, Vicar.

Is it right to split up a family?

No, it definitely is not right.

There's my sister-in-law
with her three, and there's 11 of mine.

That's a fair number.

You can't do nothing about that, can you?
I mean...

It's God's will, isn't it?

Right enough, yes.

But it does look like
you've been giving him quite a bit help.

Well, I have been trying to cut down
on me smoking.

You can't do everything at once, can you?

What is it they want to do with you all?

First, you see, they want to take the kids
and put them in a home.

Well, I can't have that.

I must say, they look bonny enough to me.

-And good as gold they are too.
-Mum!

-Mum!
-Yes, love, what it is?

Doris is down in the woods again
with a man!

Oh yes, love. Still down there is she?
Picking wild flowers?

Well, that's my eldest girl, Doris.

She loves nature, that girl does.

If she loves nature,
she's certainly on the right road.

Oh yes, she loves it all right.

All I'm asking, Vicar, is to stay as I am.

Independent.

I respect you for that, Mr...?

Smith. Harry Smith.

Harry, I don't know what I can do exactly,
but I'll certainly do what I can to help

It turned out nice for his first service.

Yes, lovely. Good morning, Mrs. Venner.

This is a pleasure.
We don't often see you here.

I simply had to come
and have a look at the new vicar.

I couldn't stand that last one.

All things wise and wonderful

The Lord God made them all

The rich man in his castle

The poor man at his gate

God made them high or lowly

And ordered their estate

All things bright and beautiful

All creatures great and small

All things wise and wonderful

The Lord God made...

Who's the man with her?

She says he's a cousin.

As this is my first sermon,

I think I ought to tell you
that I am not a good Christian.

But I want to be,
so I'm trying.

But it's not like joining
the Co-op, you know.

Your divvy depends
not on how much you spend.

It depends on how much you put in.

Jesus was quite clear about that.

If we want to join his club,

we've got to do as he told us
and live as he showed us.

You can't dodge that fact,
so there's no point in you trying.

This town

is full of people
who call themselves Christians.

But what I've seen of it,

I wouldn't mind taking a bet

there aren't enough real Christians
about to feed one decent lion!

Orbiston Parva's stopped
bothering about God,

or it's decided that He's stopped
bothering about Orbiston Parva.

"Broken off diplomatic relations",
you might say.

And the sad thing is...

people don't think that it matters.

I'll tell you what I'm going to do.

I'm going to try

to re-open negotiations
with the Kingdom of God.

I think it's outrageous that a new vicar

should start by insulting
his congregation.

I agree. The pulpit's no place
for remarks of that kind.

As members
of the Parochial Church Council,

it's our duty to make that clear to him.

I couldn't see the point.

If we weren't Christians,
we wouldn't have been in church.

Do stop fiddling with that stove,
M. Hughes!

I'm just trying
to make the place a little warmer.

You're wasting your time.
Do come and sit down.

It beats me why Lady Despard
chose such a fellow.

A strange choice.
He's rather a rough diamond, isn't he?

And those ghastly boots he wears!

I don't know. I once knew a chap
in the BBC who wore boots.

That doesn't surprise me
in the very least.

He'll be here shortly. We'd better decide
how we're going to handle him.

We simply must stop him
putting his foot in it.

I suggest the Major carries on
as Vicar's Warden.

-Of course.
-I'm quite prepared to.

What were you saying?

We were saying
you'll carry on as Vicar's Warden.

No! He wasn't a prison's warden,
he was Chaplain.

He doesn't hear.
He doesn't hear a damn word.

Good evening all!
Sorry if I put the wind up you.

What the devil happened?

I strayed from the path
and fell into a grave.

-Into a grave?
-The new one they've just du

Getting out was great practice
for Judgment Day.

Are you sure you're all right?

I'm fine, you carry on.
I'll just sit here and get dry.

We were just discussing Vicar's Warden,
Major Fowler has agreed to carry on.

That's very kind of the Major. Very kind.

I've been doing
a bit of thinking about that,

and I'd rather like to introduce
some new blood into that job.

New blood?

But recently,
the Major has practically run the parish.

The last Vicar had a certain weakness.

Had he? I've got quite a few myself.

-Whisky. He used to drink it like water.
-Poor fellow.

If he could have found
more of the Christian spirit about him,

he wouldn't have had to top up
with the other sort.

Have you somebody else in mind?

Yes, I have as a matter of fact.

And I've asked him along tonight
to meet you all.

Tonight?

Vicar, I shouldn't have been
in such a hurry.

But we are in a hurry.

This place is in a pretty rotten shape.

So you think that, do you, M. Smallwood?

I most certainly do, mate.

Though it doesn't matter what I think.
It's what He's thinking up there.

Hello Matthew! Come in!

Evening, Reverend.

Evening.

My, my... It's an awful night outside.

Let's get that wet coat off you.

I'm scared meeting all these high people

Don't be silly, they're all very nice.

Good God!

Ladies and gentlemen,
I'd like you to meet Matthew Robinson,

who has kindly agreed
to be my new Vicar's Warden.

Matthew, come and sit here
between Mrs. Smith-Gould and Major Fowle.

Beauty on one side, brains on the other.
I'm not going to say which is which.

Now then,
what's the first thing on the agenda?

-Hey, Smith!
-Ho!

You can't take all this junk
with you where you're going.

-Who says so?
-Be reasonable, man!

The accommodation we've found you,
they're respectable homes.

Listen mate.
You can stick your accommodation.

And climb up after it.

There's no need to be crude.

I'll tell you something else, mate.

We're going to a place
where your blooming council can't come

poking their bleeding noses in. Ah!

Go and stick a feather in your hat.

My God, that's a bit of luck.

I've sat up nights
trying to house that scum.

Don't be daft. It looks as though
they're clearing out of the town.

-Thank the Lord for that.
-That's true enough.

I suppose I'd better go
and spread the good news.

Don't worry, you did a good job, Clegg,

getting those people off that ground
without any trouble.

I know, you do your best for them
and they spit in your face.

I hope that's the last we've seen
of that bloody worthless bunch.

Anyway, they're somebody's else
who's worrying about them.

Hello?
Are you still there, Major Fowler?

Here!

...and lying there
on the deck of Lord Buckley's yacht,

with the sun pouring down
on my naked body,

I suddenly realised how much easier
it is for the rich

to lead that truly simple life
our Lord advocated.

A most interesting thought, Archdeacon.

Archdeacon. Excuse me, gentlemen.
The Bishop wants you at once.

Oh, excuse-me.

But he's committed no breach
of ecclesiastical or civil law.

Unless he does that, he can't be moved.

But surely something can be done,
my Lord Bishop.

It's like living next to a den of thieve.

I do sympathise,

but the vicarage belongs
to the vicar parson's freehold.

If these people are a nuisance,

that's something
for the civil authorities.

But this man he's chosen
as Vicar's Warden is virtually illiterate,

quite apart from other things.

Right, right.

But there again,
a vicar appoints his own warden, you know.

He's a dustman, my lord.

It's an unusual choice.

But I suppose he could say

there are certain precedents
for choosing the humble.

Come in.

The Archdeacon, my lord.

Ah, Aspinall.

We're having a little bother
over Orbiston Parva.

Your chaplain
was just telling me about it, my lord.

We'll have to do something.

Your prot�g� seems
to have got off on the wrong foot.

I really don't know what to make of it.

I've known John Smallwood
and his family for years.

It doesn't sound a bit like him.

Tell me.

Does Lady Despard know of this?

We haven't told her, not yet.

Good.

I don't want that dear Lady upset.

Well! Really! Geoffrey, listen to this.

"Dear Lady Despard."

"On the day I learnt the Smith family
was being put off your land

and being split up as a family,

I received your cheque
towards the organ fund."

"I happen to believe

that people are
a more important instrument of God's will,

and therefore
I cannot accept your gift at this time."

"Yours sincerely, John Smallwood."
What do you think of that?

Sounds a bit of a crank.

It's the first time I've heard
of a parson refusing money.

But Geoffrey, I'm not responsible
for these people!

Of course not!
The authorities are taking care of them.

And we're all paying for it,
our rates and taxes.

Then I do think
you ought to go and see the Vicar,

and explain our position.

Simply not possible, mother.

This time tomorrow
I'll be on my way to the Far East.

Shan't be back for two months.

I wish you'd take a little more interest
in the affairs of the town,

like your father used to.

Mother darling,
I'm going on this trip for Tranquilax.

Nowadays, Tranquilax is Orbiston Parva.

You forget him. Nobody takes parsons
seriously these days anyway.

Very well. I shall have to see him myself,
I suppose.

Watch it, Butch!

Is the Vicar here, child?

Is the Vicar here, child?

Hello?

Hello!

Yes? What do you want?

I wish to see Mr. Smallwood, please.

Yes, half a moment, I'll go and see.
Harry?

Harry!

We can't get no bleeding peace, can we?

What do you want?

Come on, answer the door!

-I saw him!
-What?

He's got a tail, like a great big snake.
It's black.

You don't have to tell them, don't you?

-Good morning.
-Could I possibly see the Vicar?

Well, no, he's not in now.

-When do you expect him?
-I don't know.

Ask the gentleman in, Harry! Ask him in!

Oh, let me!

Will you come in, sir, please?
He's only gone over to the church.

Thank you.

I'll send one of the kids round
to fetch him.

Take a seat, sir, will you please

Willie!

-Come her!
-What do you want?

Nip round the church.
Tell Reverend there's someone to see him

All right, mum.

-I say, Willie!
-Yes?

-Not if he's praying, mind.
-Who shall I say wants him?

The Archbishop of Canterbury!

Don't let me keep you from your work.

How do you know
it's the Archbishop of Canterbury?

By his long spats on his legs.
I've seen them on the telly.

-What's he doing here then?
-Perhaps he's coming to get us out.

No, he's up to the old C.O. dodge

nipping in sudden like to see
no one's having a quiet kip in the billet.

Lucky you said
he was over the church praying.

He's in there. In there!

All right, thanks.

By the way,
I hope you'll all be around tonight.

Matthew's coming to start
the Bible classes.

Oh yes, Vicar. Thank you.

Good morning.

Good morning.
He's not back yet, I'm afraid.

-Oh?
-They've sent for him. He won't be long.

-Who won't be long?
-The Vicar.

But I am the Vicar.

-No, I mean Smallwood.
-Yes, that's right. Smallwood.

What do you mean
"that's right, Smallwood"?

I mean, I am John Smallwood.

But you're nothing like John Smallwood.
I've known him for years.

I've known him all my life.

I thought you must be...

What in heaven's name's going on here?

The other Smallwood
should have had to live in.

Your appointment was a mistake.

I never thought of myself before
as a clerical error.

We'll find you another parish, of course

but somewhere more suited
to your particular gifts.

But I don't want another parish.

If I've come to Orbiston Parva,

it's because I was meant to come.
I'm not packing it in now.

I...

I didn't want to have to say this,

but the Bishop has already received
a number of complaints about you.

That doesn't worry me, Archdeacon.

It doesn't?

Remember what it says in the Bible:

"Woe unto you
when all men speak well of you."

There's a Lady Despard at the door.
All right to let her in?

Yes, of course, love. Show her in.

Smallwood, say nothing of this mix-up
about your being the wrong man.

But I think I'm the right man.

Ah, my dear Lady Despard.

Good morning, Archdeacon.
I didn't expect to find you here.

I thought you were still
in the South of France.

I returned last week.
Let's find you a chair.

Thank you. In the circumstances,
I think it's just as well you are here.

Oh?

The Vicar here returned my donation
to the organ fund.

A mistake, surely.
It must have been a mistake.

No, there's no mistake about it.

But surely you're aware of the Despards'
exceptional generosity to our church.

-If he isn't, he should be.
-Quite.

If it hadn't been for the Despards,

the church
would have fallen down years ago.

The repairs to the tower,

the damp-rot in the vestry.

Not to mention the dry rot in the pulpit

I still think what I did was right.

You still think that?

I do. I mean, to hear you talk,
Lady Despard,

you'd think the Father, the Son
and the Holy Ghost

was a firm of builders' merchants.

Mr. Smallwood!

Buildings aren't that important.
We're the ones that want saving.

It's people who come first with God,
even before churches.

Isn't that right, Archdeacon?

I thought you said
Mr. Smallwood was not married.

I assume that child belongs
to the family you've taken in.

That's right, yes.

Who are they?

The Smiths.
Your remember, I wrote to you about them.

You mean these people here
are that family?

-Yes.
-Have they been billeted on you?

No, but a great empty place like this,
an empty vicarage,

people looking for a roof
wouldn't make sense, really, would it?

But what about the authorities?

Goodness knows,
we pay enough rates and taxes.

It isn't the paying, you know.

It's the caring.
That's what counts with God.

I don't think there's any need
to keep bringing God into this.

It's difficult to keep him out,

especially when you're working for him,
like we are.

Yes, what is it, Willie?

Doris is doing you some chips
for your dinner, mister.

Well, that's fine.

Thank you, Willie.
Run along, Willie, there's a good lad.

Go on, off you go.

Sorry about that.

Well, I must say,
I should find all this most worrying.

Yes, well, I do worry.

Then you should have left it
to the Council to accommodate them.

I must agree.

It's not these people I'm worried about.
I'm worried about you.

-Me?
-Yes.

From the Christian point of view
you're in a bit of a fix, aren't you?

We've all got a few hurdles
to jump on the way to heaven,

but with the weight you're carrying,

I'm worried whether
you'll be there at the finish.

What exactly do you mean,
"the weight" I'm carrying?

I was thinking of that bit
about the rich and the eye of the needle.

Come, come, Smallwood!

Nowadays, that passage is given
a very different interpretation.

Yes, I daresay.

Are you really telling me
that because I'm rich, I might--

Go to hell!

I'm not starting that Bible classes,
not at my age.

I don't know what my brother Fred
ever saw in you, you're so dim.

And he's so bright, I suppose.

That's why he got put inside
for two years.

Why don't you shut your fly-trap
and listen to me for five minutes!

We're living here for nix, aren't we?

So what?

He lets us do as we like, doesn't he?

-Well?
-Right.

If this nit wants Bible classes,
he's going to have Bible classes.

Why don't we all join
the Salvation Army and have done with it.

-Can I go and feed the donkey?
-Yes! You go and feed the donkey.

Don't you see
we got to keep this geezer sweet?

Suppose he changes his mind
and chucks us all out.

He can still do that.

And lose 15 new customers?
Not on your nelly.

Not as long as he thinks
he's getting us ready to be saved.

Don't get me wrong.
I've nothing against money, Lady Despard.

You can do a power of good with it.
Except of course, to yourself.

The church has to live
with the world as it is.

We have to compromise.

If you want my candid opinion,
I would have thought

that was the one thing,
you and I must not do.

I think I've heard quite enough
of your candid opinions for one morning.

Perhaps you'll show me to my car,
Archdeacon.

You'll be hearing from me, Smallwood.
I promise you.

-Good morning, Mr. Smallwood.
-God bless you.

God bless you, Archdeacon.

Do you like donkeys, mister?

I try to, love.

God knows I try to.

I can only say he's not quite the man
I thought he was.

Exactly. Most disturbing.

Don't worry, dear lady.
I'm sure we shall find a way.

I hope so. I really do hope so.

Right, Davis.

Still off her oats,
she hasn't touched a thing.

Here. Give us it here.

I'm not standing for this much longer.

Just look at that again!

Lovely! I like your cooking,
Bessie, even if she don't.

She's not only off her grub,
she's off her high horse and all.

Ever since I come here, it's been:

"Why haven't you done this?
Why haven't you done that?"

Now, suddenly, this last week,
not a grip out of her.

I tell you,
I can't make out what's got into her.

Mr. Franklyn has arrived, milady.

The Farm manager is here, milady.

Yes... Oh yes, yes.

Simpson, tell me.

Do you ever worry
about what'll happen to you

when your time here is over?

Not really, milady.

I've save a bit,
and with the pension you promised me,

and a few shares in Tranquilax,
Sir Georges left me,

I should be all right.

No, Simpson.
I mean when life itself is over.

Oh, that, milady!

I haven't given much thought to that,
I'm afraid.

All I hope is that up there,

I shall still be serving you, milady.

And Sir George, of course.

A very nice thought.

But I don't think
that is quite what is meant

by having treasure in heaven.

-What are you, Phyllis?
-Virgo, I am.

Virgo, here we are.

"Today someone
will put a suggestion to you."

Guess what?

"Do not take it too seriously
or you will land up in trouble."

Not me. I never let them.

I've found out what's biting her.

The old cow's worrying about
getting ready for the next world.

Give me her brass
and you can have the next world.

I'd have some fun in this.
Italy, Cairo, Hollywood, the lot.

You wouldn't be a Virgo for long
in their hot places.

If you ask me, people that start worrying
about the next world,

make themselves a bloody nuisance
in this one.

All these years, I've never known
what happens to the farm produce.

I mean,
where does everything go?

Well, the young bullocks,
some go to Godminster,

the others go to market here.
Same with the pigs.

The eggs go off to the packing-station,

and the milk is sent up to London
every day.

-It's a matter of routine.
-I see.

Well now, Mr. Franklyn,
I've decided to make some changes.

I can let you have
500 dozen eggs a week to give away.

Give away?
Head Office would never touch the idea.

I've never heard such nonsense.

Every time I pass this shop,
you're advertising free gifts.

But that's not the same thing.
That's incentive marketing.

What you're suggesting is unfair trading.
We couldn't do that.

But you couldn't do that!
I mean, where's the profit?

There must be a profit somewhere
for someone.

I don't want to make a profit.

But are you against giving it away?

Look, lady. Do me a favour.

You'll be asking next
why I'm not a vegetarian.

Charlie!
That lady's kidneys round the back!

I'm only asking you
to give away my produce.

I'm running a butcher's shop,
not a church jumble sale!

Here you are, lady. Four and ninety, love!

Don't you see, lady, we can't afford it.
We got to live.

If you want to do good,
you go and see a parson.

-Yes, lady?
-Half pound of scrag-end.

Half of scrag-end.

Mandarin seems a little off colour
this morning, Simpson.

Did you remember to switch on
his electronic blanket last night?

Oh, yes, milady.

Come on, my little darling.
What's the matter?

Come along and eat it up.

Come on!

No?

Very well. We'll put it over here,
shall we?

Perhaps you'll fancy it later on. No?

The Reverend Smallwood, milady.

-How do you do, Lady Despard?
-I'm so glad you've come, Vicar.

-It's most kind of you.
-I'm glad to.

-Do sit down.
-All right.

-And please, help yourself.
-Oh, thanks.

-Are you going to have something?
-No, thank you.

Vicar, what you said to me the other day,

I've been thinking about it a great deal.

I'm very much troubled in my mind
about it.

I realize now that I'm far
from being the sort of person I should be.

If you realize that, Lady Despard,
you're certainly on the right road.

But it isn't easy. It really isn't easy.

I know that. It never has been.

Since I last saw you,
I have been making efforts to try

to help the people here
in a very practical way.

Good for you.

But it's quite impossible
Nobody will help me.

You'd really think, Vicar,
there was some sort of conspiracy

to prevent one doing good.

The trouble is
the devil's always waiting around

ready to take a swipe at us.

Not terribly straight, Harold.

Straight enough.

By the way, have you spoken to Head Office
about the Tranquilax building?

Yes, I've written to them about that.

The bank's agreed to let you have
the 25 000 to get started,

Oh, fine!

Of course
until you've signed the contract,

you'll have to let us have
the deeds of your house

and a personal guarantee for the loan.
How's that?

That's fine, old boy.

With Tranquilax and the Despards
behind me, I'm safe enough.

I should say so!

When you think about it,
it's like the loaves and fishes, isn't it?

Without any miracle being necessary,
of course.

Do you really think we can?

Lady Despard, you can do anything
if you really believe.

Very tasty, those.

Of course, it's going to take
quite a few weeks to get going.

And mind you,
it'll cost an awful lot of money

keeping the farm going
and setting up an organization.

You do realize it, don't you?

You do realize that?

Yes, of course. Don't worry about that.

I have other resources
I can easily call upon.

Did you really enjoy those?

Yes. I thought they were very appetizing.

Very nice, indeed.

Alec, give me the middle price
of Tranquilax Ordinary.

Well, what do you know?

What does she know, that's the point.

-Yes?
-Seventeen and nine, sir.

Very little dealing.

What is the size
of Lady Despard's holding in Tranquilax?

She owns nearly half the shares.

-What's the game?
-I don't know.

I've just been reading their last report.
The company seems to be flourishing.

Maybe something's gone wrong,
and young Despard's tipped mummy off.

To sell on the open market
and tip everybody else off? No.

Whatever it was,
what got the Despards where they are,

it certainly wasn't motherly love.

"The church hall will be open as a centre

for a scheme to distribute goods free."

"The purpose is Christian unity

and the rediscovery
of the Christian joy of giving."

Well, that's enough, man.

-What's all this, then?
-Not today.

The church is delivering now, see?
I don't want to give it a try.

Oh, no! I can't order any meat
for the week-end. Thank you very much.

They're giving it away free
at the church now.

After all, we are C. of E.
and we ought to support them.

Now, if you don't mind,
I've left my washing-machine switched on.

You'll have to cancel the order,
I'm afraid. We're using the church now.

Did you see that greedy cow back there?

-Thank you.
-Thank you very much.

-Who's next?
-I am.

How many in your family?

-Fourteen.
-Fourteen!

Right.

My hubby says tomatoes you serves me up
yesterday, was too squashy.

We can't have him dissatisfied, can we?

What about some beetroot?

Oh, no! He can't stick them.

-One packet of lux.
-And half a pound of tea. The best.

Only have a quarter, dear.

-Just a minute, Mrs. Baddock.
-What do you want, Mrs. Clapp?

If you don't mind,
I think you've made a bit of a mistake.

-I don't know what you're talking about.
-I think you do, dear.

What you've got wrapped up there,
is my best-end of meat.

There you are, mate. All legs and breast,
just waiting to be stuffed.

Who's the next early worm to get the bird?

There you are, lady. Next, please.

One tin of pineapple titbits.

One packet of Krunchies.

One packet of Krunchies.

And a tin of carnation.

There you are.
Everything's here you wanted.

Right.

That's your lot, everybody. No more today.

What about the birds?

Sorry, governor.
They're for special needy cases.

Get them out the side door quick.

Well, I think that's the lot.

Go on!

We don't want you
to go short of anything, you know.

I nearly forgot. I need some sauce.

Sauce? That's the one bleeding thing
you don't need, mate.

I don't know nothing
about your belly of pork.

Look at this then! There!
That's your belly!

God bless you, Vicar.

Thank you very much, love. Very nice.

-Morning, Vicar.
-Morning.

-Excuse me, Vicar.
-Yes?

I wonder if I could ask you
one or two questions?

Er... Well,
I'm just on my way to the church.

Well, it won't take a moment.

Do you really feel, that in these days
of the Welfare State,

there's a need for this sort of charity?

I do, definitely, yes.

But surely there are no really desperately
poor people in the country any more.

I don't think that's necessarily true,

but in any case,
I'm just as worried about the rich.

About the rich?
That's quite a new idea, isn't it?

It's a very old one.
You haven't been reading your Bible.

Of course, this is only start.

I expect to see a lot more giving
and far less getting around this place.

At the moment it does seem to be rather
the other way round, doesn't it?

I daresay that's right,
but the example's there. It'll catch on.

After all, Christianity is example.

It's give, give, give,
from the widow's mite to life itself.

What immediate effects, if any,
do you expect from all this?

Well, you've only got to look around you...

Goodwill always breeds goodwill.

What have you got wrapped up
in that bit of paper?

You take your hands off my basket!

I'm not leaving
without my bit of best end!

I'll soon see what you got here!

I knew it!

Just what one would expect
from a chapel person like you!

Ladies, please!

You, mind your own business.
You don't even belong here!

Keep your black face out of it!

"I put a transatlantic call through
to Sir Geoffrey this morning."

"But he wants you to put up this statement
to all the news agencies immediately."

Quote.

"Rumours in the press now spread relating
to financial stability of Tranquilax LTD

are quite without foundation."

"The Board of Directors have the opinion

that the fall in the value of its shares

is due to the operations
of the speculators on the Stock Exchange."

End quote.

-How's that, Joyce?
-Magnificent.

Good. What about a spot at seven tonight?

You're not the one
that is coming back with the full load.

I'm flogging a day cargo.

It's all this "Good Neighbour" lark.
They're all cancelling their orders.

A few more weeks like this,
and we'll be bloody ruined!

Finally, Mr. President,

Rotarian Sawbridge writes from hospital
to say that he is sitting up

and taking notice
and would welcome visitors.

So if any of you boys,
can spare half an hour or so,

pop along and see Arthur.
I know he'll appreciate it.

Incidentally, for those who didn't know,

Arthur's had almost
the whole of his stomach removed.

Thank you, Cyril. Now, gentlemen,

I'd like to call upon
our distinguished guest to--

Mr. President, if I might interrupt you.

In view of this subject
of our guest's lecture,

perhaps the Archdeacon would explain,
from the Christian point of view,

the goings-on down
at the church hall lately.

Hear!

Admittedly, I'm looking at it
from the retail business point of view,

but this "Good Neighbour" business
is beginning to cause very real hardship.

-Hear.
-It's an absolute disgrace, Mr. President.

A cheap, diabolical advertising stunt

to entice members of other churches
by offering free gifts.

Hear!

I tell you it has to be nipped in a bud
before we're in it up to our necks,

otherwise every sinner in the place
will be expecting a reward

instead of the damnation
he so richly deserves!

From the Church's point of view,
this is lunacy.

-Hear!
-I repeat it, absolute lunacy!

What I need, is an expert opinion,
of this man's mental state.

In confidence, of course.

The Archdeacon tells me
that you're the man to give it.

Certainly.

Would you wait here?
We'll have you up when the Bishop's free.

Punch or The Church Times?

Not much in it, is there?

-Here you are, dear.
-Thanks, Elsie.

Could I see Archdeacon Aspinall, please?

Have you an appointment?

I have, but it's for tomorrow.

But I had to be in Godminster today,

so I just popped in
on the chance of seeing him now.

-What name, please?
-Smallwood.

Oh yes, I know.

I suppose you've no idea
what he wants to see me about?

No, I'm afraid.

Perhaps it's about the living
at Orbiston Parva.

Somebody else got it by mistake, you know.

-Oh dear!
-It's really dreadful.

Please take a seat outside,

I'll let you know
when the Archdeacon is free.

Thank you.

I was gasping for this!

As I explained to the Bishop,

his conduct certainly reveals
some disquieting symptoms,

an almost childlike simple-mindedness,
for example,

coupled with a most unhealthy
exhibitionism.

The sad thing is, of course,
that this sort of mind

is so susceptible
to be example set nowadays

by certain deans and canons.

He's waiting downstairs, my lord.

The Church has always had its quota
of psychologically abnormal.

Of course, in the past,
your chaps have made them saints.

How do you do?

Good afternoon.

Naturally, I don't want there
to be any mistake. We can't afford that.

You needn't worry about that, Bishop.
Now, where can I see the poor chap?

The Middle English library
is not in use, my lord.

Very well, fellows.
Perhaps you'll show the Professor the way.

Yes, my lord?

Please show Mr. Smallwood
to the Middle English library.

Would you come this way, please?

Thank you.

Sit down, Mr. Smallwood.

There. Make yourself comfortable.

My name is Rockerby.

Your Bishop has asked me
to have a few words with you.

The Bishop?
I didn't realise he knew about my case.

Of course, he does. Naturally he does.

Well, that's splendid.
Then I suppose he'll put everything right.

Yes, the Bishop will put everything right.

Let me see.
You are the Vicar of Orbiston Parva?

No, but I should be.

You should be?
But you don't think you are?

Unfortunately, I know that I'm not.

Most interesting.

What would you say if I were to tell you
everyone thinks that you are, in fact,

the Vicar of Orbiston Parva?

You mean, they think I ought to be?

Well, as to that,
they may or they may not.

What's so infuriating, is that I would be
if it wasn't for that other fellow.

What other fellow?

This other Smallwood.

Ah!

So there's another Smallwood?

Well, of course.

I see, I see.

Now we're getting somewhere.

Tell me about this other Smallwood.

I've never actually seen him.

But he's there, all right.

All the time?

Of course. He's been there quite a while.

What are your feelings
about this other Smallwood?

I don't mind admitting at times,
they're pretty unchristian.

Really?

I'm ashamed to admit this really,

but sometimes,
I feel positively violent towards him.

Have you ever thought
of undergoing treatment, Mr. Smallwood?

Treatment?

Whatever for?

To get rid of this other Smallwood
forever.

You'd like
that to happen to you?

Of course I would.

But you said
the Bishop would put that right.

Yes, of course.

The Bishop will put that right.

I don't see how my undergoing treatment.

Now, if you'll be kind enough
to wait here,

I'll go and have a word
in the episcopal ear.

Let me out!

It's a classic case, I'm afraid.
Schizophrenia.

Fantasy and reality all mixed up.

Hallucinations and paranoia.

Poor chap. Is he...

Would you say he might be violent?

Let me put it this way.

His frustrations
are so dangerously repressed

that he's like a time-bomb.
He might go off at any moment.

Bless my soul.

My advice is to persuade him
to have a treatment as soon as possible.

Let me know where you send him,
and I'll have a word with them.

-Where is he now?
-He's still in the library.

I took the precaution
of locking the door.

Now I really must
get back to town.

We're most grateful to you.

Not at all. Interesting case.
The fellow actually sees

a complete projection of himself

right down to his clerical vest.
Most interesting.

Goodbye, Bishop. Goodbye.

-It's even worse than I feared, my lord.
-Yes, indeed.

Particularly for you, Aspinall,
knowing the family so well.

I'm most grateful to you.

This, of course, means a vacancy
at Orbiston Parva again.

Quite.

The man I thought
you might care to consider,

is the young curate
in charge of Framley Park.

I've had my eye on him for quite a while.

-The right type, and well-balanced.
-Good. I must see him sometime.

Excuse me.
Do you know if the Bishop's free now?

Yes, he's free now, as any of us.

-Is it all right to go up there?
-Why not?

-I should if I were you.
-Alright.

But what first gave you the idea
that the man was perhaps a trifle touched?

Something about him that the mentally
afflicted always seem to enjoy, my lord.

His air of quite unjustifiable happiness.

Am I intruding?

I thought perhaps
you might like to see me now.

Who are you?

Smallwood, my lord.

The Almighty preserve us!

-What do you want here?
-You sent for me, my lord.

-Please, don't come any nearer.
-Try and make for the door.

Is this some sort of a joke?

Yes, that's right, Smallwood.
We're just playing a little joke on you.

I wish you'd let me in on it.

Smallwood, how did you get out?

-Out of where?
-The library. You were locked in.

Let me out!

I demand to see the Bishop!

But I keep telling you, Bishop,

I've been waiting down the hall
all the time, waiting to see you.

-This is a trick, my lord.
-But your name's Smallwood, isn't it?

Excuse me, my lord,
there's been a terrible mistake.

-Stand back!
-No, my lord!

Rockerby saw the wrong man.

He what?

Our friend here.

-Who are you?
-This is absurd, my lord.

This is the young curate
from Framley Park I was telling about.

What's he doing here?

I don't know.
I called in to see the Archdeacon

and found myself being interviewed
by somebody called Rockerby,

who claims to be seeing me on your behalf

and then locked me in the library.
He's clearly demented, my lord.

But Professor Rockerby said that you--

Obviously a misunderstanding.
I have every confidence in this young man.

But you said you had every confidence
in Rockerby.

I don't know what's come over you,
Aspinall.

I would suggest you took a holiday,

but not for the fact
that you've just come back from one.

Fellows, take this young man away.

My lord, I have already suffered
from one mistake.

Now, I find I'm the victim of another.

Yes, yes, indeed.

It really is most upsetting.

Most.

If you like, I'll go too, my lord.

Perhaps you would prefer
to see me on another day.

Yes. Very thoughtful of you, Smallwood.

Well, I understand how it is.

If you'll just give us a ring
or drop us a line or something.

Yes, by all means.

Well then, good day, my lord.

Goodbye, Archdeacon.

Next time, perhaps you'd like
to explain that joke to me.

I'm afraid I didn't get it.

Don't go, Aspinall.

In this situation,
I think we should pray together.

Very well, my lord.

...the encircling gloom

Lead thou me on

The night is dark

And I am far from home

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven.
Eleven quid, not bad.

All right, son. You can keep that.

We're working up
a nice little connection over in Dursley.

Took more than two hours on the bus again.

All right. You've had
your inconvenience money.

Now nip in there quick
before Smallwood gets back.

Go on, they've been shouting for you!

Oh, what for?

What for?

Do you reckon
to be christened dead ignorant?

It's your Bible class night. Hop it!

And Moses said:

"I only got to leave you people
for a moment

while I do important business
with the Lord."

"And what happens?"

"I come back off that mountain
and what do I find?"

"You've all gone mad or something,
jiving around and gambling."

"And painting yourselves up

like you've never been taught
nothing before."

"I'm just about disgusted with you!"

"You aren't fit for no promise land,
that's for sure and certain."

Matthew, you're making them
into good Christians, are you?

I don't know, Reverend.

-Am I?
-Yes!

Good. Well, we'll see then.

What is the outward and visible sign
of baptism?

-Water!
-Well done.

Very good.

Now, the Three-in-One in whose name?

You're late, Jack.

I had to do something for my dad.

I see.

Well, we're just having a few questions.

Can you tell me what we mean
by the Three-in-One?

Tranquilax, mister.

Jack, that is not the answer.

Sit down, boy. Does anybody else know?

-Yes, Percy?
-Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

Good. Now, we're getting somewhere.

Simpson, I'm just off to bed now.

-See they're properly fed, won't you?
-Yes, milady.

When they've eaten, make quite sure
they're bedded down comfortably.

Very good, milady.

Will you be taking the soup, sir?

Yeah.

Welcome to Holy Trinity Church.

Good morning to you.

Good morning.

-Welcome to Holy Trinity.
-Good morning.

Righto, lads!
All temptations on the table.

You know what will happen to you
if you go on reading that stuff, Sidney?

No, mister.

Your voice will break, you won't be able
to go on the choir outing.

Vicar, you should just see it in there!

They're packed tight together
like seeds in a melon.

Matthew, let's hope they're here
for the right reasons.

Harry,
living in a respectable place like this,

with a real vicar, chance of a lifetime.

We aren't doing too bad.

When I got your letter,
I couldn't believe my eyes,

nor could the chief crew.

"One eight one", he says.
"Who is writing to you from a vicarage?"

-What a bastard he was that feller.
-I bet.

Of course, with an address like this,
you could work anything.

Begging letters, for instance.
You know the sort of thing.

Distressed clergyman, Rev. Harry Smith.
You want to wake up, boy.

But we haven't all got the literary gift
like you've got.

And I told you
I'm not some jailbird neither.

I haven't had a nosh-up like this
for two years.

-What's this geezer's name?
-Smallwood.

Smallwood? What's he look like?

He's all right.
Nothing struck-up about him.

Except his hair.

He's a proper case, he is.
He loves everybody.

I'll have to nip over the church
and have a butcher's at this geezer.

What for?

I've got an idea I might know him.

If I do, I haven't been here this morning.

Got it?

I'll have to play my cards a bit crafty.

...and don't let's kid
ourselves.

We won't find a substitute for God.

Quite a few people think they have,
but they haven't.

Nothing else works,
because nothing else lasts.

Of course, if it kicks you after,
they're ten a penny.

Your daft youngster in a leather jacket
doing his ton on the by-pass.

He gets his kick,

but he'll probably end up in hospital.

A bottle of whisky will give you a kick
like a mule,

if you don't mind a hangover
in the morning.

Your fornicator,
he gets his moments of pleasure,

but, by golly,
he has his hours of remorse.

No!

There are no substitutes.
No matter what they say,

what you hear, or what you read.

"Life not worth living"?

You've all seen the posters
on the hoardings.

"Then try Tranquilax,
the three-in-one restorative."

Can you believe it?

Two pennorth of the peace
that passeth all understanding

in tablet form
at two-and-a-tanner a bottle!

Worthless!
Absolutely worthless!

Of course life's worth living!
But with God!

And only with God!

There are no substitutes
for the three-in-one.

I mean the real Three-in-One.

The father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

Number one eight one,

"We know thee who thou art."

-Come again ladies.
-He gave a charming sermon.

Good afternoon, Kevin.

I admire him. He really speaks his mind.
He doesn't care who he offends.

As I was saying, I really dig him.
I can understand what he's talking about.

He's with it. Come on.

It's not just words with him.
Look what he's done.

I think he's a wonderful man.

I was saying to my hubby last night,
when I could get a word in edgeways.

Wonderful sermon. Quite wonderful.

-Morning, Vicar.
-Morning.

Vicar!

Padre?

Remember me?

Of course. You're 182, aren't you?

You got it.

Well.

Leslie, take these down
to the vicarage for me.

-I shan't be a moment.
-Yes, Vicar.

It's been on my conscience
what I've done to you.

You certainly made me look a bit silly.

I kept saying to myself:
"As soon as I get out of this place,

I'm going to find that padre,

and ask his forgiveness
so I can start off with a clean sheet."

That doesn't matter.
I don't bear you any grudge.

It was a real temptation
to get out of that place.

Get back to wife and kids,
but I was wrong.

I can see that now.

So those little talks we had,
weren't altogether a waste.

Oh, no.

I'll always remember
the things you used to preach at me.

Anyhow, that's all.

My consciousness is clear now.

I say!

Do you need any help?

You just have helped me, thanks.

Now, I can start looking
for the wife and kids with a light heart.

Where are they?

The funny thing was,
they were living round here,

roughing it in a field
down the Tranquilax factory.

But they've been moved.

By the factory?

What's your name?

Smith. Fred Smith.

You must be Winnie's husband!

That's right! But how did you know?

Well, I'm glad.

Fred, you'd better come along with me.

I've got a nice little surprise for you.

Well, well.

Twist... Twist again...

Bust!

Ah, Sir Geoffrey,
thank goodness you're back.

Who the hell are those people, Simpson?

-They're your mother's guests.
-Guests?

-Where is she? In the drawing room?
-She's gone to church, Sir Geoffrey.

-What? On a Monday?
-Baptism.

But good God,
she's already been baptised once

by the Bishop of Fulham
in the Chapel at Wellington Barracks!

She's not a candidate herself, sir.

But the Vicar wanted her there.
And whatever he wants, he gets.

Dost thou renounce the devil
and all his works,

the vain pomp and glory of the world,

with all the covetous desires of the same

and the sinful desires of the flesh,

so that thou wilt not follow
nor be led by them?

I renounce them all.

I renounce them all.

I renounce them all.

I renounce them all.

I renounce them too.

All?

All.

I renounce them all.

Mind your head,
or you'll get baptised all over again.

Stop scoffing tarts like that, you two.
You'll be as sick as dogs.

Go on, you two.
Eat your bread and butter for a change.

Can we have some more jam on it?

Yes, you can today, Percy.

Wipe her face for her, Harry!

I should slip this under baby,
if I was you, milady.

That one's always been
a terrible wetter.

Be a good chap.
See who it is at the door, would you?

Certainly, Vicar.

-Belt up!
-What's the matter with you?

She says she's crying
because she don't feel no different.

After all that baptising,
she reckons she ought to.

I'm told my mother is here. Lady Despard.

-Oh, yes.
-I want to see her right away.

You'd better come in and join us.
We're having a bit of a celebration.

Yes, I daresay you've got something
to celebrate. I haven't.

I want to speak to her now. Alone.

Oh, yes.

You'd better come in here then.

"The home."

Geoffrey, what a wonderful surprise!

But why are you here?
Is there something wrong?

I'll say there's something wrong!

-What is it? One of your dogs?
-No, mother, not one of the dogs.

It's this lunatic in a dog's collar,
Smallwood.

Do you realise
what's he doing to everybody?

-Have a piece of cake, Vicar.
-No, ta. We're doing very nicely.

Here, you finish that.

I say, Vicar,
I reckon it's been a lovely afternoon.

All that standing about
and then the water put over us.

That's the only beginning, don't forget.

I've been thinking the next job you ought
to do is get me and Harry married.

You mean you're not married?

No.

What... Not at all?

No, well... Somehow, we never had the time.

But you don't understand, Geoffrey!

I understand all right.
You've nearly ruined me, your own son!

You're ruining yourself,
and in no time at all

you'll have nothing left
to give this damn parson.

It's got to stop, mother,
before it's too late!

Do you think Sir Geoffrey
could do with some refreshment?

Definitely, Vicar.

I'd better take him something.

Get out of it.

-Harry, we've got to make plans, quick.
-Why? What's up?

I wonder if it was too good
to last a night.

All right, mother.
You buy your seat in heaven if you want.

But you must not expect me
and everybody else to pay for it.

That's very cruel of you.
I don't know what your father would think.

Father!

Look!

He didn't give to everybody!

He took from everybody and they loved it!

He knew his place in this town
and he kept everybody else in theirs.

What he did not do, was to go around
sucking up to the Almighty.

Sorry to put in.
I thought you'd like a cup of tea.

-You're Smallwood, I suppose.
-That's right. How are you?

-Could we have met before?
-Yes, it is.

Do you realise what you're doing
in this place?

-I realise what I'm trying to do.
-I don't think you do.

At the rate you're going,
my mother will soon be a pauper.

I'd say your mother is richer now
than she's ever been.

Richer? While she's been fleeced
by no good scoundrel in the district,

including this worthless
that might be brought in here.

No human being is worthless, Geoffrey.
You should know that.

That dirty, idle, thieving bunch!

What do you suppose
they're thinking of all this?

They're laughing at you! Both of you!

Making rude signs behind your backs.

-I know that.
-You know it?

I know that. They're not saints.
I don't expect them to be.

They've had it pretty rough
all their lives.

They won't suddenly sprout wings
overnight. It's simply a matter of faith

-Faith?
-Yes, faith in people.

I can't make up my mind
whether you're a rogue or just a fool!

Geoffrey, you really have no right
to talk in this way.

Look, all we're trying to do,
your mother and me,

is to teach by example.

Rubbish! The first thing to teach them,

is to render unto Caesar
that which is Caesar's.

And unto God, what?
The Smith family? Perhaps.

With a bit of luck,
we might even manage that!

If you do, you'll be in trouble
on Judgment Day.

We're all going to have
a lot of answers for on that day.

All right.

Carry on kidding yourself. It's the Chur
that makes things tick around here.

I know different. It's my factory.
That's everybody's "Good Neighbour".

If you destroy that,
and you've damn nearly done so,

they'll need all the faith they've got,

because there'll be very little hope
and even less charity!

We're not trying to destroy things.

We're trying to build
something that lasts.

That's quite right, Geoffrey.

You must come to church
and feel the new spirit in the place.

All right, I can see I'm wasting my time.
But remember what I told you.

When things start to get tough,

just wait and see
how long this new spirit lasts!

...therefore, brothers,
I put the motion for strike action

in support of those made redundant
by the management of Tranquilax.

Those in favour?

All right, gentlemen.
The resolution is passed unanimous.

We, shopkeepers, have all lost
a hell of a lot of customers

over Smallwood's "Good Neighbour" stunt.

Now, we'll see how long it lasts
when he's got the lot.

So you've been snatched too, Mrs. Gunter?
What do you think of it?

Rotten lot of devils

after all the money they took off us, too!

-Give it back!
-Get out of it!

You get your hands off my boy!

We've been standing
in the queue for over three hours.

I want to help you, lady,

but can you see how crowded the hall is?
Just wait a minute.

-I haven't got a bit to eat in the house.
-That's all right, sweetheart.

The Lord will provide.

There seems to be quite a number of people
who have no right to be here at all.

You're right, lady.
Half of them aren't C. of E.

-Hey, you! The Church of England?
-What's that to do with it?

Everything.
You and your old man have your chapel.

-What about it?
-Let them look after you.

If anybody thinks he can come in,
there won't be enough to go round!

Damn cheek! Next thing we'll have
the blasted Jews queuing up here.

Yeah. Hey, you! Aren't you Baptist?

Cyril, if you foreclose, I'm ruined.

Sorry about that,
but business is business.

-Look, man.
-If you took the risk.

But Despard and I
had a gentleman's agreement.

Harold, in business
there are no gentleman, sorry.

I don't mind cooking
for ladies and gentlemen,

but not for this scum! I've had enough!

The old goat's right round
the bloody bend!

She's had her chips
as far as I'm concerned!

What are we going to do now without staff?

Personally, milady,
I'm going to watch and pray.

Watch the silver
and pray these guests of yours

push off as soon as possible.

So you agree with Sir Geoffrey?
I'm being a foolish old woman?

I'm in no position to judge you, milady.

But it can't be wrong, Simpson.

It's all there in the Bible,
chapter and verse.

Mr. Smallwood's
shown me that.

I remember Sir George used to say:

"Whenever you hear the Bible quoted,
look out,

because it's most likely
the devil itself."

So you think Sir George is against me too?

I'm sure he is, milady.

And he hasn't altered a great deal.

I'd say he's moving heaven and earth
right now

to send you a sign.

Excuse me now, milady,
I've got to go and do the dining-room.

Did I hear you call, milady?

I knew it.

I knew it!

Harry, we've got a gold mine here
This lot's worth a few nicker!

What happens if it pisses
with rain before we get it away?

Their boards is a sound as a bell
they won't leak for weeks!

Anyhow, you can get Smallwood
to pray for fine weather.

There will be
no free distribution today.

Will you please disperse immediately?

There will be no free distribution today.

Get out of it, you black bastard!

Reverend!

We got to get out of this town!
Something's gone awful somewhere!

-We're in real trouble!
-What's the matter, Matthew?

There's about the whole town
waiting outside that hall,

and we've got nothing to give them!
Nothing has arrived!

-Nothing's arrived?
-Not a thing!

And they just went screaming mad at me!
I'm telling you I'm scared!

Now calm down, Matthew.
There's nothing to be scared of.

Everybody knows I'm the Vicar's Warden,
don't they?

I didn't ask to be. You made me!

You're right, Matthew. I did it, didn't I?

I know what you're trying to do is right.

But this isn't the place for it.
I'm getting out.

And if you've got any sense, Reverend,
you'll get out too.

No, Matthew. I can't.

I'm sorry, Reverend.

Shut up, will you!

Good morning, Mr. Simpson.
Is Lady Despard in?

Yes.

Could I see her? It's rather urgent.

No, I'm afraid you can't.

-Why? Is she unwell?
-She was.

Will you shut up!

She's over it now, though.
But she's still in quarantine,

and we don't want to risk her
getting infected again.

Well, I'm blowed.

I only saw her a couple of days ago.
I had no idea.

-She's all right now, is she?
-Yes, she's quite her old self again.

-I'm relieved to hear that.
-Not more than we are.

Perhaps you could tell me what's happened
to the supplies for the church hall.

We haven't received them yet.

And you won't be receiving them either.

She's finished with that caper,
and she's finished with you as well.

A bit late in the day, perhaps,

but she's seen the light at last,
thank God.

What did you want to come here for,
upsetting people?

Wearing the cloth,
you ought to be ashamed of yourself,

pretty nearly ruining the old lady
and everybody else.

Take me, for example.
I left a few shares in Tranquilax,

for my old age.
Worthless now, they are, thanks to you.

That's a fine reward
after 40 years of service.

I'm in service too, you know Simpson.

A fine pretty service
you've done to the people.

-Simpson!
-It's him, milady!

I can't see him.
I can't possibly see him.

Now, I'm going to give you
two bits of the Bible.

Matthew 27-5:
"And he went out and banned himself."

Luke 10-27:

"Go and thou likewise."

Last supper's being served.
Take your seat, for the last supper.

The situation, Prime Minister,
is increasingly grave.

Of course,
the press are in full cry after us.

The danger here, Prime Minister,

is that Orbiston Parva
is part of a marginal constituency.

The place is virtually shut down.

Unemployment 60 %. That can only mean
one thing, Prime Minister.

Those damned idiots will be voting Liber
at the next election.

I know. We're in quite a spot.

But the Church is in this.
It makes it difficult.

God knows,
we must keep religion out of politics.

Obviously, we have to do something,

but its' absolutely vital
that we appear to do nothing.

The first thing is for Sir Geoffrey
to get his factory running again.

But how? My business is crippled.
The name Tranquilax stinks.

My dear chap, what's in a name, change it.

We've been doing that for years
when necessary.

Tories, Unionists, Nationals,
Conservatives,

same products, same customers.

Where will I get the money?

The City's lost confidence.

The City's always losing confidence.

-I thought the Treasury might--
-No, we couldn't do that.

I've had a word with Canterbury
about this.

By the way, Godminster,
why isn't His Grace with us today?

If you remember, Prime Minister,
he's visiting the Pope.

No again, surely.

I do know His Grace feels the Church
has a responsibility in this situation,

and at his suggestion I've brought along

our two friends here.

They represent the Church Commissioners.

We're prepared to use our investment fun
to refinance Tranquilax,

provided that the name is changed.

Splendid. We're getting somewhere.

I'll have to be conditional, of course,
on Smallwood being removed.

Of course. That's up to you, Godminster.

And we don't want him spreading
his pie-in-the-sky ideas

somewhere else either.

That puts me in great difficulty,
Prime Minister.

We're all in a great difficulty.

None of us can move a finger
until the Church has found a solution.

You find him a nice quiet parish,
where he can do no harm.

But where are we going to send him?
And how do I persuade him to go?

My dear Lord Bishop, I should have thought
you were admirably placed

to get the best possible guidance.

-Good morning, my lord.
-Good morning, my lord.

Well, Aspinall?

Have you had any... fellows?

No, my lord.

And you, my lord?

What in Heaven's name,
is this toy doing here?

You have the free gift, my lord,
out of the cereals' packet.

What is this?

I think it is a model of a spaceship,
my lord.

I don't know what they'll think
I've mixed.

God moves in a mysterious way indeed.

I really must have reinforcements.

Every sect and faction in the town
is ready to tear at each other's throats.

All because of this ruddy parson.

Oh, belt up!

As you go!

This is heavy as lead!

You'd better get the tarpaulin
and cover it over quick!

Hurry up, you two. They're waiting.

Fifty-one, 52, 53, 54...

I've been around the front rooms.
There's nothing worth nicking.

-How about the church then?
-We had that blooming roof!

-Give us that here.
-Hurry up, then!

I want to get out of this place
before Smallwood gets back.

-Is that lead loaded?
-Yes, they're all waiting.

If you ask me,
we're getting out just at the right time.

Go away, yes! Give away, no!
Go away, yes!

Give away, no!

Inspector, I must go out and talk to--

Sorry, Mr. Smallwood, I can't allow it.

I haven't enough men here.

I've got to explain to them,
try to make them understand!

We want jobs, not "Good Neighbours"!

It's your bloody Protestants
who started all this!

You shut up, or we'll do you and the Pope!

I don't mind them going for me,
if it stops them going for each other.

You're wasting your time.

Am I?

What's he doing there?

Let's hear from you, Smallwood!

What have you got
to say for yourself now, Smallwood!

Tell us the old story then!

Get out of here, Smallwood!

I came down here,

to Orbiston Parva

because... I wanted to serve!

Well, it looks as though I've failed.

You've failed all right!

How do you dare to show your face here!

What you want

I can't give.

And what you need

you don't want!

We don't want you!

Well, I'm sorry.

So you damn well should be!

I bloody well think so!

Come on, let's get him!

Get him out!

Better carry him in.

Let's give you a hand.

I'm all right, thank you very much.

Shall I call a doctor for you?

No, thank you very much. I'm all right.

Sorry we had to throw you
in the rubbish, Mr. Smallwood.

It was the only chance
we had of getting you out alive!

Well, that dustcart came in handy
once before.

If you're sure you're all right,

we've got to get back
and disperse that crowd.

I'm fine, thank you very much.

Sorry you lads got knocked about.

Hello, Archdeacon.

Good afternoon, Smallwood.

I am sorry about this.

I'm afraid I'm a in a bit of a mess.

May I introduce Sir Clive Harvey-Jenkins.

One of the Prime Minister's advisers,
and my good friend,

Archdeacon Goodbody from Lambeth Palace.

How do you do?

We're almost anxious to talk with you,
Smallwood.

We bring you glad tidings.

...concluding his announcement
the Archbishop said:

"The Church's most earnest endeavour

must be to carry the word
to wherever there may be ears to hear it."

"No matter how remote they may be."

"We need", he added,
"for a diocese of this nature a man fit

able and willing to travel."

And now over our Scottish studio
for a filmed report.

The seat of the new diocese,
at any rate for the time being,

will embrace the three sub-Arctic islands
of the North Atlantic,

Cragga, Oyst, and Ultima Thule.

Formerly uninhabited, this latter island
has recently achieved fame

as the launching ground
for Britain's space probes and satellites.

Apart from a few sheep,

the new Bishop's flock
will comprise the scientists,

technicians and astronauts
of the Scientific Centre.

Project Parabola.

Zero minus one hour 15 minutes

Now.

Gentlemen, please!

The Director General's apologies,
but the Bishop will not be holding

a religious ceremony
at the launching pad after all.

Do you mean, no blessing?

No blessing.

But why? What did he say?

To use his own words, sir, he said:

"Tell the Director General
the idea's daft."

His job was to bless people,
not the heap of a machinery.

But that is his job.
What else is he here for?

Hardly any of us
are traditional believers?

Except one or two in the lower grades.

I agree, sir.
But I couldn't very well tell him that.

I do think he might bless
the old rocket occasionally.

I mean, the press chaps
like that sort of picture.

Project Parabola.
Zero minus one hour

ten minutes.

Now.

Tell me, Professor.

Is this rocket of yours really going
to get up off its arse this time?

My dear fellow,
everything's been checked and rechecked.

-Instruments, fuel, the astronaut himself.
-You'd better be right.

This little circus is costing
the British taxpayer three millions a day.

Don't you worry, my dear fellow.
Nothing can go wrong this time.

I thought I'd pop in to see
if there was anything I could do for you.

Thanks. But there isn't really, is there?

Well, I can pray for you, lad.
At least I can do that.

Excuse me saying so, sir,

but you don't seem a bit like a Bishop.

I don't feel like one, really.

For that matter,
I never particularly wanted to be one.

I'll tell you something, Bishop.

Right now, I don't particularly want
to be an astronaut.

The thought of a failure scares me stiff

Well, you see in my job,

I'd be more scared
of not having a chance to fail.

I suppose you'd might say
I've been a failure all my life,

but somehow, the Almighty
has always given me another chance.

In this job,
you don't get a second chance.

Now, the most critical moment
after take-off,

will be when the rocket reaches
its prescribed orbital height.

It is then that the astronaut,
for the first time,

will play a part in the proceedings,
by firing the device,

which separates the capsule
from the parent rocket,

and he will then go into orbit.

What will be done if something goes wrong
with the firing device up there?

Yes. There'll be some firing down here.

I suppose
I fell for the glamour of it all.

Doing something for England,
shaking hands with the Duke,

that sort of things. I was a fool!

Sorry, Bishop. I'm embarrassing you.

You're not, son. I was a prison chaplain.

Then you've been
in the condemned cell before.

-What did you tell them?
-The same as I've been telling you.

It doesn't help very much, Bishop.
That's the trouble with church people.

Their fingers point out
to the heavens above,

but they make sure they keep their feet
firmly on this earth.

They're in no hurry to go.

Project Parabola.

Zero minus 45 minutes.

Now.

Everything's OK, Cliff.
We'll be taking you across in ten minute

OK?

Fine.

Any moment, the astronaut
will be driven across to the rocket,

which is standing some two miles
from where I sit.

...unless there's some hitch,

the star player should be arriving
on the field at any moment.

We're all immensely excited here.

Yes! Here he comes!

Astronaut Clifford Street
riding out on his jeep,

an American Jeep I might add,

to start his momentous journey into space.

Project Parabola.
Zero minus 12 minutes. Now.

The tension here, the quiet,

can only be compared with the atmosphere
of a test match at Lord's,

with England facing odds
and batting on a sticky wicket.

The astronaut is now inside the chamber.
The rocket stands mute,

motionless, a vast metallic finger
pointing remorselessly

towards a new age.

It is a cold bleak
Sunday morning here,

and it is perhaps a comforting thought
that back in Britain,

there are millions of people
in churches and homes,

offering prayers for the safety
of the man inside the capsule.

Can't you stop that ironing?

I'm glad we got the telly back for this.

Incidentally,
the astronaut's last half-hour

was spent in private with the new Bishop
designated of outer space.

No doubt he received
his Lordship's blessing.

Forty-nine, 48, 47,

46, 45, 44,

43, 42, 41,

40, 39...

It'd better be right this time.

It will, my dear fellow. It will be.

...33, 32,

31, 30,

29, 28,

27, 26,

25, 24,

23, 22,

21, 20,

19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14,

13, 12,

11, ten,

nine, eight,

seven, six,

five, four,

three, two,

one, zero.

Holy smoke!

Ultima Control to capsule.
Please report your condition.

Ultima Control to capsule.
Can you hear me?

Can you hear me?

This is Ultima Control, Cliff.
Can you hear me?

Jesus lover of my soul

Let me to Thy bosom fly

Stop playing the fool, Cliff.
We want to know how you are!

"Heavens above". He's gone off his head?

Maybe.
That voice doesn't even sound like him!

Hide me
O my Saviour, hide

Till the storm...

Can you hear me?

Safe into the haven guide

Oh receive my soul at last

Other refuge have I none

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee

Leave, oh, leave me not alone

All things bright and beautiful

All creatures great and small

All things wise and wonderful

...in the heights adore him

Ye behold him face to face

Saints triumphant bow before him

Gathere'd in from every race

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

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