The Old Church Clock

A BRIEF history of the following homely little tale may perhaps be not less interesting, and more edifying, than the tale itself. It was written originally for the pages of The Christian Magazine, (a cheap monthly publication, intended for circulation especially in the manufacturing districts,) which is under the management of a young clerical friend, who deserves the highest praise for the energy with which he commenced, and the zeal and judgment with which he has hitherto conducted it.

Like many more important events, the following story, which commenced almost in jest, has ended almost in earnest. It was not at first proposed that it should extend beyond three or four chapters; but having nearly by accident carried his hero (so to style him) into the North for a birth-place, a train of associations was awakened of which the author could not forego the record. Though by birth and descent a native of Lancashire, he had resided long enough in the region of the English Lakes to become enamoured with its wild and romantic scenes, and intimately acquainted with the manners and mode of thinking of its inhabitants; and, among other charms of that sequestered district, not the least grateful to his imagination was the character of Robert Walker, for so long a period incumbent of one of the most retired and romantic portions even of that primitive country. Nor was it merely as an exemplary parish priest, (and well does Robert Walker deserve the title of Priest of the Lakes, as that of Apostle of the North has been assigned to Bernard Gilpin,) that the character of this good man is to be regarded, but as one striking instance out of many (if the history of our Parish Priesthoodcould now be written) in which the true liturgical teaching of the Church was strictly maintained in the lower ranks of the ministry, when it had been either totally discontinued or had withered down into a mere lifeless form, in the higher. It cannot be denied that corruption began from above,—secular patronage and loose foreign notions and manners first influencing those in station and authority, and then naturally descending downwards into the ranks of the Church; thus gradually corrupting the whole mass to such an extent, that the chastisements which she has since received from the whips and scorns of dissent became as wholesome as it was deserved. Now, in the author’s mind, there was an apostolical succession of duty as well as office in Robert Walker, which convinced him,—and consoled him with the thought,—that there was nothing in the Church system itself which necessarily led to that deadness in herself and activity and success in those who dissented from her, which it was too often his lot to witness during the first days of his ministry. [vii] No doubt, hundreds of his brethren can look back, each to his Robert Walker in his own district, by whose light his path was cheered when all else seemed dark around him.

The history of Robert Walker, however, is calculated to teach a much more important lesson than this; although it be one which seems so obvious to reason, that it could hardly have been expected that any example should be required, even toenforce it. It appears quite evident, at the first glance, that as Faith can only be illustrated, proved, and confirmed by good works, so Doctrine can only be impressed, ingrafted, and made practical by discipline. It is true that it may be conveyed into the mind, and painted on the imagination, by distinct and impressive oral teaching alone; but it can only become useful and even intelligible to the great masses of men, by their being required to show, by some outward act of their own, that they understand its utility, and make a personal application of the truths which it conveys. When our Saviour Himself combined—never to be separated—outward acts and observances with inward graces in the two holy Sacraments of His religion, He taught us, at once by precept and example, that even the most solemn and mysterious doctrines of His Church can only be properly impressed on the heart and understanding by the observance of some corresponding and outward act, as at once a sign of obedience, and a channel of further grace. This is the system on which our Prayer Book is constructed. Are men to pray?—it tells them when and how. Are they to believe certain facts in their religion?—it impresses them on the heart and memory by periodical commemorations. Are they to believe certain doctrines?—it brings these prominently forth at fixed times and seasons. And so on. Doctrine and discipline, with the Church, go hand in hand, like faith and practice, the result of both. Now all this seems so reasonable, that it might hardly appear to require the test of experience to give it further sanction; yet to that test we may fairly appeal; and the author has, in his own mind, been constantly in the habit of doing so by the cheering history of Robert Walker. Let us first look at the opposite side of the picture, in the illustrious instance ofNewton, the pious, laborious, and eloquent minister of Olney. Here is a favourable specimen of the system of spreading the Gospel by instructing the mind, and sanctifying the feelings of the hearer, principally by oral teaching, without laying much stress upon the necessity for prescribed outward observances. Yet what is the result? No one can read Cowper’s beautiful letters with regard to that place and time, and not be painfully convinced of the evanescent nature of all impressions which are merely made by individual teaching on individual minds, without some external bond of union by which a religious society may be held together when the hand that first combined it has been withdrawn; and some supply of fuel to rouse and rekindle the slumbering embers, when the first light has been extinguished or removed.