Wellington, April 10th, 1812.
My very dear Friend,
I CANNOT describe the feeling of regret which the receipt of your last
letter occasioned, and I sit down, with depressed spirits, to dictate an
answer. There is something exceedingly gloomy in the recollection that
one of the dearest friends I have on earth, is about to depart to a place
where there is no human probability of our ever meeting; and that he
should depart also without my being permitted to look him in the face, to
clasp his hand, and to bid him a parting adieu. I feel truly grieved at
the circumstance, and the more so, as I had expected that you would have
been detained on shore longer than the time fixed on for your departure,
and consequently that you would have had some little spare time to pay us
a farewell visit.
* * * * * *
I feel comforted, however, with the hope of hearing from you
occasionally, and do give you my promise that I will endeavour to write
to you _every other month_, whether I hear from you or not; and my poor
scrawls shall be duly forwarded to your good brother, as you have
desired. I will inform you of our proceedings here as minutely as I can;
and will take care to touch upon such of a more public nature as I
conceive may possibly escape the attention of your other correspondents.
But while I am thus writing, I cannot conceal from my Armstrong what has
recently passed in my mind. I have long thought it to be a circumstance
highly disgraceful to our Church that so few individuals have appeared
who are willing to leave the comforts of life, and to endeavour to
forward, by their own exertions, the grand and momentous work which the
God of all grace is evidently carrying forward in all quarters of the
globe; and I now begin to feel a desire (should the providence of God be
pleased to open my path), to step forward in this great work. I have
opened the matter to my Mary, and she tells me that she is willing to
accompany me to any place where I should see it my duty to go. It has
pleased God to give us a competency as to this world’s goods, and should
any situation similar to the one you are going to, occur, we should
really feel no hesitation in accepting it. What our future path may be
is uncertain; but I should not wonder if my dear Armstrong hears of our
following in the steps which he has marked out for us. There seems much
to be done abroad, and few inclined to do it; should, therefore, God be
pleased to accept of my poor intentions to be engaged in forwarding it, I
shall rejoice in the circumstance, and gladly spend and be spent in so
glorious an employment. I have said to my Armstrong what has been
mentioned to no other individual whatever, my Mary excepted; I must
therefore request he will not make the slightest allusion to it for the
present.
I have taken the liberty to send you and Mrs. A. a small token of parting
love; may they prove the means of your frequently remembering the
unworthy donor, and whenever you think of him offer up a silent prayer
for his spiritual advancement. I have also to request that you will
accept of the enclosed notes; {30} they may, perhaps, prove serviceable
in procuring a few more additional comforts for your voyage and future
accommodations. May the God of love accompany you in your voyage, make
you abundantly useful in your passage, and still more so in your destined
situation. My prayers, my best wishes, do certainly attend you; and
though we may not meet on earth, yet I hope—I would I could say more, but
my treacherous heart will not permit me—but still I hope that you and I,
our partners, and the children whom God may graciously give us, may all
meet in that blissful state above. My Mary desires her kindest regards
to Mrs. A. and yourself.
Believe me,
Your ever affectionate Friend,
G. M.