The work at Manchester seemed to be the first entrance on his long career of professional success. He was appointed, in March, 1823, architect for the erection of another church at Oldham, somewhat on the same scale and style as those already built. A commission was also given him to prepare drawings and plans for some alterations and enlargement of St. Martin’s, Outwich, which were afterwards carried out under his superintendence. In the midst of it there came an alarm which would have overwhelmed a nervous architect, though it failed to disturb his equanimity to any serious extent. Soon after the opening of his church at Prestwich there came an express from Manchester, stating that one of the galleries had shown signs of falling during service, that the congregation had rushed out in panic, and that many were seriously hurt. By the time the then tedious journey to Manchester was over, the report had grown into “Stand Church fallen, 300 killed and wounded.” It turned out that a small hair crack had appeared in the plaster in consequence of too rapid drying. A man under the gallery perceived it, and fancied that it widened rapidly, whereupon he shouted out, “The church is falling!” The consequence of this sapient proceeding was a sudden rush to the doors, at one of which the steps had not yet been fixed. Down went the temporary steps, and the congregation over them. Happily but few were hurt, and those not seriously; so the architect’s reputation escaped. Meanwhile he was constantly at work. In the year 1823 he entered into the competition for the new buildings at King’s College, Cambridge, his friend Mr. Wolfe being also a competitor. The building was to be either Grecian or Gothic. In spite of the _genius loci_, he proposed a Greek building, thinking that a classical style (for which the Fellows’ Building afforded a precedent) would be less likely to invite comparison with the overwhelming grandeur of the chapel. Besides, in Gothic he was still weak, and somewhat inclined, after the fashion of the day, to restrict its employment to ecclesiastical purposes. In this competition he experienced a failure, probably fortunate enough for his reputation; for he never looked back on his design with any satisfaction, and, in fact, his attachment to Greek was gradually giving way. He felt that, for modern purposes, the style was not sufficiently plastic. Except on a grand scale, and in a commanding position, with full command of polychromy and of sculpture, the Greek portico seemed to him to lose its original effect, and become flat and insipid.