“Then, taking me by the hand, he said, ‘And so, my poor lad, you feared to come into this church because you thought it was the church only of the rich man! Come along with me, and I will soon provide you with a sitting.’
“He dragged me with a rapid step through the church-door, and up the middle aisle, till he came to a place which he doubtless knew to be at that time unoccupied; and setting me down with great force in one corner of a bench, he said, ‘There! sit there! That is your seat as long as you occupy it punctually. If any one shall disturb you, say that old Rivers, the Reverend Joseph Rivers, placed you there; and I should like to see the man that dares disturb you after that!’ and he flourished his cane with an emphasis which seemed to show that the consequences of so rash an act would indeed be serious!
“Such, sir, was my introduction to the Parish Church, and such is the favour—the inestimable blessing—which I owe to the Old Church Clock! How often have I wished that the same blessing could be extended to the multitudes of young men that pour annually from the country into this great metropolis of manufactures and commerce, even if it were accompanied with the sharp discipline of old Mr. Rivers’ cane, which I experienced! Sir, thousands are lost—lost for ever—from the want which I felt, and from which the Old Clock delivered me—want of church-room! It gives them first the plea to spend the Sunday in idleness; and a Sunday so spent is but a preface to one of vice and dissipation. Would that there were a dozen Old Churches in this vast hive of human beings! Well, sir, that seat I have occupied from that day to the present hour—full five-and-forty years! They have been years of trial, and sometimes of trouble to me; but I have always found my best consolation there. During my days of toil and labour I was never absent from the Sunday services; and now that a moderate competency and the advance of years give me grounds for retirement from busy life, the daily services find me a constant and delighted attendant. I find the daily temple worship the best possible preparation for that service which I trust may soon be my occupation in a higher sphere; the best soother of the passions; the surest relief in sorrow. Within those walls I have escaped all those anxieties which spring from religious doubts and differences, and have said the same prayers, and listened to the same doctrines during the lapse of half a century. The daily service flows on, in my ears, like my native Duddon—always the same, yet ever fresh and new. I have seen sects rise and fall, and various forms of dissent flourish and decay; but they have no more moved my mind than the fleeting lights and shadows, sunbeams and storms, which pass successively over that venerable fabric, can disturb its foundations, or even shake one pinnacle from its towers. In those free sittings, so well thronged by pious worshippers, what changes have I lived to behold! I have seen the grey head of many a faithful soldier of Christ laid low, while its place in the ranks has instantly been filled up by one as zealous and almost as grey as that which has been removed. Nay, the shepherds of the flock have been smitten as well as the sheep. I followed to the grave my old friend Mr. Joseph Rivers, to whose blunt kindness, and friendship for my master Robert Walker, I was so deeply indebted; and much was I gratified to see the flood of tears that was shed by the poor over the old man’s grave! It was a proof to me that men know how to value honesty and integrity, even though it be clouded, as it sometimes is, by a hasty manner and a rough outside. And I have followed to the grave one to whom I looked up with a feeling of deeper reverence and gratitude—the pious Christian—the courteous gentleman—the late venerable Head of our Church in this place. He was to me not only a teacher, but, I may almost venture to say, a companion and friend. How often have I hoped and prayed that he might be permitted to out-strip me in length of days as far as he did in his Christian walk! But it was not so ordained! Truly may I say of him, in the words of Scripture, ‘That other disciple did out-run Peter,—and I came first to the sepulchre!’”
The silent tears rolled down the old man’s cheek as he paused for a moment to meditate on the tomb of his pastor.
“My tale,” he soon added, “is now at an end. It is probably, as I said, but of little interest to any one but myself, and you who have so kindly listened to it. Yet I shall not have told it to you in vain, if it lead you to recollect that the poorest man you meet has his little history, could he be induced to tell it; and his deep interest in the Church, could he be led to think so. At all events,” he concluded, with a smile, “you will not, I am sure, now blame me much, should you meet the Old Man once more on the Victoria-bridge, on a Saturday night, and find him setting his watch by—(even should it be a few minutes too slow)—the Old Church Clock.”
The End.
PRINTED BY CHARLES SIMMS AND CO., MANCHESTER.
FOOTNOTES.
[vii] It would be very interesting to trace the precise period when the late culpable neglect of Church discipline (more especially in observing the duty of daily prayer in churches) began to be generally prevalent. It would seem to be soon after, and not before, the year 1720. The author has now lying before him a daily journal kept by a collateral ancestor, who was curate of Garstang Church-Town, an agricultural district of this county, in the years 1723–4–5, from which it appears that, even in that retired district, prayers were then said in the church on all Wednesdays and Fridays, and all Saints’ days and Holydays throughout the year. The labour of a curate then, (for the vicar was non-resident,) was such as is seldom surpassed even by the often almost intolerable toils of the present day. The following is a specimen of the journal referred to:—
“April, 1723.
“12. Good Friday. Read prayers, Mr. Hayward [the vicar] preached, and we administered the sacrament to 236 communicants. After dinner I went into Claughton [two miles off] to visit the sick.
“13. Mr. Hayward read prayers; I went into the parish, and administered the sacrament at three private houses to sick and aged people.
“14. Easter Day. I read prayers. Mr. Hayward preached; and we administered the sacrament to 285 communicants. Afternoon: Mr. Hayward read prayers, and I preached; and then went to visit a sick child.”