“‘Brother,’ said she, ‘I do not regret my past conduct in this matter; on the contrary, I rejoice in it as the only proof of fidelity that I have been permitted to give to the law of my divine Master. Could I believe that I might have saved him—but no, I will not think it possible! I was not to do evil that good might come. My Bible, Robert Walker, and my own heart approve of what I have done; and if I die for it, it may be that I shall live for it (through my Saviour’s Blood) hereafter. Brother, pray for me! I dread the coming night; but I trust to the Lord’s power to drive away from my pillow evil thoughts, and evil spirits. My mind begins to wander—I must to prayer. Come to me early to-morrow morning. Good night, and God bless you!’
“I went early according to her request, anxious to hear her report of the past night, and sincerely praying that it might have been more peaceful than my own. I stood by her bed-side, and called her name: all was still. I opened her window-curtain (bed-curtain there was none) and gazed on her face. She was dead! Her hands were folded peacefully on her breast, showing that she had passed away in prayer, and there was a faint—a very faint—smile still lingering on her lips, as though at the very moment when she closed her eyes on earth she had just caught a glimpse of heaven.—Poor Martha!” [91]
After a pause, the old man proceeded—“I will say no more of my final parting, because I would avoid my mother’s name. Behold me then in Salford! Hard at work from morning till night, breathing the dense and foggy air of Hanging-ditch, instead of the pure and invigorating breezes of Tilberthwaite and Yewdale. Much have I learnt, from sad experience, during my long life, of the condition of the labouring classes in this busy hive of men, and much could I tell you of cruelty on the part of masters, and of ingratitude and improvidence on the part of men. But I will keep these matters for another occasion. Suffice it to say, that I believe a manufacturing state may and will become (though it may be neither in my time nor yours) quite as happy and as healthy a one as that of the best-regulated agricultural district. But, sir, the reformation must begin at the other end—it must be from the top first, and then to the bottom! I will tell you a little secret—the men, as a body, are quite as well educated for their station in life, as the masters, as a body, are for theirs. The next generation may see masters who have been brought up to the trade of masters, and not merely men who have become masters by good fortune; and then may we hope for a thorough reform in the whole system of conduct of masters and men towards each other; of which, till then, I almost despair. Meantime, if the Church had fair play, she would throw her healing branch into the bitter waters which surround us, and teach mutual love and forbearance to ‘all sorts and conditions of men.’”
“I fully agree with you,” said I; “we have heard much of late of the want of education among the poor; I hope we shall hear, soon, of the necessity of a better system of education among the rich. But, my good old friend, you are quite forgetting that your tale is about anything else than that with which it professed to begin, ‘The Old Church Clock.’”
“Right! my dear sir; like many other old men I have allowed my tongue to out-run my tale. Well, sir, Sunday came—a day of joy to me, both as a rest from unusual labour, and as an opportunity of pouring out my soul in prayer in the manner that I used to do in my native mountains; so that I looked to be reminded of my temporal and eternal home, by joining once more in the same form of worship with my absent parents, and my good old pastor, Robert Walker. Little do they know of the beauty of a prescribed form of prayer who have never offered it up in a distant land! Alas! how were my hopes and expectations disappointed! I naturally entered the first place of worship within my reach, expecting it to be, like Seathwaite chapel, free and open to all comers. But I was woefully mistaken! A well-cloaked and liveried beadle soon informed me that there was no room for strangers, and that the aisle was the only place for me. It was true that I had this advantage over the sleepers in the well-cushioned pews around me, that I could kneel in prayer to God, whilst the rest were compelled to sit in His presence while they asked Him to forgive them their sins! Still it was most painful to me to worship in communion with those to whom my joining with them in prayer was an unwelcome act; and I now felt myself really a solitary amidst crowds, when, not even in the presence of our common Father, had they any sympathy with their homeless brother! Well, sir, time passed on; and among my smaller grievances was the occasionally receiving, and indeed deserving a reprimand from my over-looker, for having been behind my time in a morning, at the early hour at which the work of our establishment commenced. Six was the precise hour; and even a minute behind that time subjected the truant to a serious fine. I well remember, one cold wintry morning, looking anxiously for the first sight of the Old Church Clock, as I crossed the Salford bridge into Manchester, and saw, to my horror, that it pointed to exactly five minutes past that hour. There seemed to my imagination an expression of strong displeasure in the hard outlines of that old clock’s face, which administered a far stronger rebuke to me than the violent and unfeeling language which was addressed to me by the over-looker; and I resolved, if it were possible, not to fall into the same disgrace again. The next morning I was, by the same clock, ten minutes before my time. The old clock seemed to smile at my punctuality, as I do now at the recollection. How apt is the youthful mind to put a portion of its own overflowing life even into inanimate things! And what dead thing is so like a living one as a clock?”
CHAPTER XV.
We talked with open heart, and tongue
Affectionate and true,
A pair of friends, though I was young,
And Matthew seventy-two.* * * * *
And, ere we came to Leonard’s rock,
He sang those witty rhymes
About the crazy Old Church Clock,
And the bewildered chimes.Wordsworth.
“I gradually established an acquaintance with this old Clock. It had already proved itself a faithful friend—indeed the only one that I had yet found in Manchester; for my mother’s distant relation was too much involved in the all-absorbing pursuit of making money, to have any room in his thoughts for the wishes and feelings of a poor country cousin like myself. The Clock, however, had grown to be so intimate an acquaintance, that I one day took advantage of a leisure hour to pay it a nearer visit; and was very attentively looking up into its face from the foot of the tower, in the space between it and the houses—which space was then exceedingly narrow, (the houses are now happily taken down,) when my shoulders were suddenly assailed by a very smart blow with a stick, from some person from behind! I turned sharply round, as might be expected, and saw a little active old man, dressed in a suit of rusty black, with a hat somewhat of a clerical shape, and a pair of sharp grey eyes twinkling under very long and very shaggy eye-brows, in the very act of raising his cane for the purpose of repeating the salute. I immediately twisted the offensive weapon out of his grasp, and seeing the reverend character of the assailant, exclaimed, ‘Nemo me impune’—flourishing, at the same time, the cane over his head, as if about to return the blow. Nothing daunted with my threat, the little man stood his ground bravely; and said, with a look of mingled fun and fury, ‘Who beat that bit of Latin into your foolish head?’
“‘One,’ said I, ‘whose hand was quite as heavy as yours, though he did not lay on half so hard as you do!’
“‘All the worse—all the worse. Had he struck harder then, you would have needed it less now! But why do you stop up the way to church, and stand gazing up to that tower, as if you were planning to rob the belfry?’