[Footnote 5:  For Faith and Freedom, by Sir Walter Besant, chap. 1.]

Like many of his brethren, he had seen the Church of England displaced by the Presbyterians, and the Presbyterians by the Independents, and the restoration of the Church.  His father, who had been clerk before him, had seen the worship of the “old religion” in Queen Mary’s time, and all the time the village life had been going on, and the clerk’s work had continued; his office remained.  In village churches the duties of clerk and sexton are usually performed by the same person.  Not long ago a gentleman was visiting a village church, and was much struck by the remarks of an old man who seemed to know each stone and tomb and legend.  The stranger asking him what his occupation was, he replied: 

“I hardly know what I be.  First vicar he called me clerk; then another came, and he called me virgin; the last vicar said I were the Christian, and now I be clerk again.”

The “virgin” was naturally a slight confusion for verger, and the “christian” was a corrupt form of sacristan or sexton.  All the duties of these various callings were combined in the one individual.

That story reminds one of another concerning the diligent clerk of R——­, who, in addition to the ordinary duties of his office, kept the registers and acted as groom, gardener, and footman at the rectory.  A rather pompous rector’s wife used to like to refer at intervals during a dinner-party to “our coachman says,” “our gardener always does this,” “our footman is ...,” leaving the impression of a somewhat large establishment.  The dear old rector used to disturb the vision of a large retinue by saying, “They are all one—­old Corby, the clerk.”

One of the chief characteristics of old parish clerks, whether in ancient or modern times, is their faithfulness to their church and to their clergyman.  We notice this again and again in the biographies of many of these worthy men which it has been a privilege to study.  The motto of the city of Exeter, Semper fidelis, might with truth have been recorded as the legend of their class.  This fidelity must have been sorely tried in the sad days of the Commonwealth period, when the sufferings of the clergy began, and the poor clerk had to bid farewell to his beloved pastor and welcome and “sit under” some hard-visaged Presbyterian or Puritan preacher.

Isaac Walton tells the pathetic story of the faithful clerk of the parish of Borne, near Canterbury, where the “Judicious” Hooker was incumbent.  The vicar and clerk were on terms of great affection, and Hooker was of “so mild and humble a nature that his poor clerk and he did never talk but with both their hats on, or both off, at the same time.”