And Brother in the Lord,
GEORGE MORTIMER.
* * * * *
The following letter is a beautiful manifestation of the greatest
humility as to his own Christian experience; it was addressed to his
sister:—
Wellington, Nov. 17th, 1814.
My dear Mary,
I HAVE to thank my dear mother and yourself for the printed account, and
the accompanying letter relative to the Lord’s gracious dealings with our
dear departed brother: they have proved highly interesting, and, I trust,
truly profitable to us. May our ears ever be disposed to listen to, and
our hearts prepared to receive, instruction from all the gracious means
which a God of infinite love and mercy is ever taking with us, in order
to our good, and when it comes to our turn to drop the garments of
mortality may it be with us, as it was with dear James, to be clothed
with those of light. A tear may now and then involuntarily escape me
when I advert to the difference between his envied situation and my own.
He quite safe, I still surrounded with danger; still called to many a
conflict with the Christian’s threefold enemy; still smarting from the
wounds which my own unfaithfulness and presumption rendered expedient
that I should receive. But I comfort myself with the recollection that
the time will soon come when I hope to be crowned as victor, and that my
continuance here below is with the merciful intention of giving me
increased opportunity of getting some fresh jewels to my crown, and of
getting those brightened which are already there. May the great Captain
of my salvation so stand by me, that all these His gracious purposes may
be abundantly answered! I bless God, I do feel an increasing desire to
live to Him, and to the glory of his name; and there are times in which I
feel that I have an increased power to do so. When I compare the general
state of my religious experience with what it formerly was, I find that I
am enabled to exercise more uniformly submission to his divine will, and
to depend upon him more habitually for the supply of all my wants. I
feel in many respects more crucified to the world, and the world seems to
have become more so to me; so that I care but little about a variety of
things which were at one time accustomed to engross much of my time and
affections. In a word, I am led to conclude, that the life which I now
live in the flesh is somewhat more a life of faith in the Son of God, a
simple dependence and reliance upon Him, as my wisdom, righteousness,
strength, and happiness, as my all-sufficient Saviour. But while I feel
great cause for thankfulness in these respects, yet how far am I from so
walking as to please my God! I was thinking over the state of my mind
the other morning, and I felt deeply humbled before the Lord on account
of it. My religion strikes me as being more superficial and
circumstantial, than deep, inward, and spiritual. I possess a measure of
_union_ with God, but very little _communion_ with Him. I am engaged in
His works, and doing His will in the main, but I hold slight and
frequently interrupted converse with Him. But how can such a walk be
pleasing unto God? But, perhaps, you will not be able to enter into my
feelings—as connected with this my defect in religious experience—unless
I have recourse to some familiar illustration. An individual may be
walking by my side, towards the place which I would have him proceed to,
and in the way in which I would have him walk; but should he walk for
miles and hours together, in total silence, never, during these
intervals, drop a word expressive of his views and feelings, never
communicate to me the least thing which is passing in his mind; or should
he manifest a similar indifference concerning my communications to him,
should he never listen to my voice, or suffer himself to be so amused
with the surrounding prospect, or the incidents of the journey, as to
have no ear for me, what opinion should I form of such an individual?
Would he be walking so as to please me? The application is easy—we may
be walking in God’s commands towards the place he would have us direct
our face, and in those paths which he has been pleased to appoint; but if
we do not hold converse with him, if we are backward to tell him what is
passing in our minds, or if we have no ear to listen to his kind
communications, suffering ourselves to be previously engaged with the
things by which we are surrounded, how little can such a walk be
gratifying to the blessed God! Now, my dear Mary, here is my defect; I
do not cultivate, as I ought, that loving, gracious intercourse with my
loving Redeemer which it is my privilege to enjoy: not only many moments,
but, sometimes, even hours, pass without anything like direct communion
with him. Oh, when shall I be able to adopt the language—the beautiful
expressive language—of one of Mr. Wesley’s hymns—
“Far above all earthly things,
While yet my hands are here employed;
Sees my soul the King of kings,
And freely talks with God.”
Let us help one another, my dear sister, in this important matter by our
mutual and fervent prayers.
Good Archbishop Leighton, alluding to the effects of intercourse kept up
on the part of ministers with the blessed God, has happily expressed
himself:—“They that converse most with the King, and are inward with him,
know most of the affairs of state, and even the secrets of them, which
are hid from others. And, certainly, those of God’s messengers who are
oftenest with Himself, cannot but understand their business best, and
know most of His meaning, and the affairs of His kingdom.” What a
luminous proof did this most excellent man afford in his conduct of the
truth of his own assertion, and what need have we, who are the ministers
and stewards of the same mysteries, to follow him as he also followed
Christ!