SHE was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment’s ornament. . . .
I saw her, upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin-liberty. . .
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of an angel-light.
WORDSWORTH.
“THE gloom, which had for some time been lowering darkly round our house,
now burst over our heads with the fury of a thunder-storm. You must
often have observed, sir, that as all the little ailments of a man’s
body, which singly are insignificant enough, gradually combine together,
and produce death; so the misfortunes of life, long kept at a distance,
seem at last to come upon an individual or a family with one united
assault, and press it with irresistible force to the very ground. So it
was with us. My father, habitually silent and reserved, began to talk
more, especially to strangers, and to show a greater liveliness of manner
than we had ever observed in him before. He spoke about the value of his
land, and the produce of his crops, in a way to make me think that I had
a very comfortable prospect of inheritance before me, and I considered
myself already as one of the established _statesmen_ of the valley.
Alas! how puzzling is poor human nature! At the very time when my father
seemed most to rejoice in his possessions, he had just come to the
conviction that he could no longer retain them. He had never really felt
their value till they were about to pass away from him and his race for
ever! His father had been a somewhat expensive man in his habits, and
had mortgaged his little estate to the father of Tom Hebblethwaite, in
the hope, as times were then very good, of quickly redeeming it. But
worse times soon succeeded; and my poor father and mother, with all their
care and industry, were not able even to pay the interest of the sum
borrowed, so that the debt gradually increased in amount, and the
unavoidable issue was clearly foreseen. This disheartening news my
father took a quiet opportunity of communicating to me, my poor mother
standing by, and the silent tears rolling down her cheeks—not for
herself, but for her children.
“‘My dear lad,’ said he, ‘you must _fend_ for yourself. I have engaged
that you shall become apprentice to an engraver in Manchester, who is a
distant relation of your mother’s, and, I am told, in a very thriving
condition. Your mother and I have given you learning, and we hope, good
principles; we had wished to have given you more, but GOD’s will be
done.’
“A change now came over the whole course of my thoughts. It was like
telling me that I was to pass my days in another world, so little notion
had I of anything that was going on beyond the boundaries of my native
mountains; and I speculated, and wondered, till my mind became confused
and perplexed, and I was unable to attend to even the commonest concerns
of life. I will hasten over this distressing period, for it is too
painful to dwell on, even at this distance of time. I believe that age
magnifies the anxieties that are far off, as much as it deadens the pain
of those that are near. The recollection to me now, is more grievous
than was the reality at the time. Robert Walker took leave of me with
much sound advice, but with a cheerfulness that removed much of my
horror—for that was what I felt—at leaving, probably for ever, my native
hills.
“‘My good lad,’ said he, ‘you are only about to do what thousands have
done before you—leave these barren mountains for a scene of usefulness to
which you are evidently called by your heavenly FATHER. Many of my flock
have gone before you in the same path, and most of them, I thank GOD,
have been highly successful in their labours. Some of the highest and
richest merchants in Manchester drew their first breath in these humble
valleys, and were taught at my village school. Having here been taught
the lessons of frugality, industry, and attention to religious duties,
they were thus trained for the after-toils of life, and have become an
honour to their country and their Church. But as for you, I would rather
see you good than rich. The one, with GOD’s grace, you can be; the other
may depend on a thousand accidents. I have prepared a little present for
you, which I trust you will always cherish as proof of my good will. The
Bible I know you have, and its fitting companion and interpreter, the
Prayer-book: here is ‘Nelson’s Companion to the Fasts and Festivals of
the Church of England,’ the best book, next to the Prayer-book, that the
uninspired mind of man ever compiled; full of learning, full of piety,
full of prayer. Know this book well, and you will be wiser than your
teachers; for to understand and retain in one’s mind the contents of one
such book as this, is better than to read whole libraries, and to have
but a dim and misty recollection of them all; and here is another good
book, which you will find a valuable companion to you in some of your
silent and solitary hours—‘The Whole Duty of Man.’ Blessed be the memory
of the pious lady who wrote it! And may the blessing of GOD rest for
ever on the family which sheltered the saintly HAMMOND in his
persecutions, and produced her who left to the world this invaluable
legacy! {89} In these books you have a religious library which will meet
all your spiritual wants. Pray for me, as I shall not cease to pray for
you—for _this_ is the way to remember friends that are far off; and now
go, and the LORD be with thee!’
“But I had another parting of a very different kind to encounter—with my
poor sister MARTHA. Since her separation from her lover, she had gone
about her daily avocations with her usual, and even more than her usual
cheerfulness and quiet alacrity. Indeed her eye sparkled with more
brilliance, and her spirits rose to a higher pitch of excitement than I
had ever before observed. She grew perceptibly thinner, but no alarm was
thereby occasioned, as her colour was even heightened in brightness, and
her mind seemed peaceful and happy. Yet I had watched her with more than
common anxiety, and felt much alarmed for her state, though I could
hardly assign the grounds of my fears. A few days before it was proposed
that I should take my departure, she called me into her room after the
rest of the family had retired to rest, and desired me to sit down by her
side, with a seriousness of manner which seemed to show that she had some
important communication to make.
“‘Brother,’ said she, ‘we part soon; it may be sooner than you expect.’
“‘How so?’ said I.
“‘You must listen to my tale. We have never talked about _him_ since we
parted at Mr. Walker’s. I have never repented what I did then.’
“‘Oh, how nobly you acted, dear sister,’ said I, ‘and how little you seem
to have felt the shock of such a parting. How I love you for your
determination! You have never seen him since?’
“‘I saw him last night!’
“‘Indeed?’
“‘Yes—last night. He stood by my bed-side, looking most pale and
ghastly; and reproached me with deserting him, and leaving him to his
fate. He said that I might have saved him by converting him from his
evil ways, but now on me must rest the consequences of his ruin, both in
body and soul.’
“‘It must surely have been a troubled dream!’
“‘No, brother, it was a sad reality. I appeared to myself as wide awake
as I am at this moment, and though my reason tells me that he _could_ not
be there, I saw him with as sober a mind, and an eye as steady as I see
you now!’
“‘And how do you explain this strange delusion?’
“‘Easily—I am DYING! Look at this hand,’ said she, holding up her taper
fingers before the candle. I could distinctly see the flame through the
transparent skin, and trace the blue fret-work of the veins, as though
they had been traced with a lead pencil on a sheet of white paper. I saw
that all was over!
“‘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?”