Wellington, Salop. May 1st, 1815.
My dear Friend,
YOUR last letter gave me an account of dear Mrs. A.’s indisposition. She
has been much on my mind of late. I feared lest her protracted illness
should be the forerunner of something worse; and my mind shrunk from the
idea of the painful circumstances in which yourself would be placed,
should her removal be the ultimate issue. But I have left the whole in
the hands of our wise and loving God, and I have no doubt but that all
will be well. To be a stranger in a strange land, oppressed with cares
and surrounded with more than ordinary difficulties, and at the same time
reft of his bosom friend, the sharer of his troubles, and the assuager of
his griefs; this is a trial from which the mind revolts. But still, “God
is faithful, who will not suffer us to be tempted above that we are
able.” He will proportion our supports to our trials, and with Christ’s
strengthening us we can not only do, but bear all things; and, therefore,
all that we have to do is to shut our eye, and to yield our hand, and to
suffer our kind Lord to lead us whithersoever he shall please. We have
nothing to do with anticipation respecting the future. Grace is indeed
promised to us, not however in advance—not as a stock which we may
possess beforehand, but as we need it. “As thy day, thy strength shall
be.” I have found this consideration a great source of comfort to my own
mind when I have been recoiling at the painful possibilities of the
morrow; for, though I could not bear this and the other trial to-day with
my present strength, yet to-morrow’s strength may and will be sufficient
for me, provided I do but look for it. Were a martyr’s trials in reserve
for me, a martyr’s grace would also be prepared for me.
With regard to myself all at present is peaceful in the extreme; my mind
calmly reposing on the God of all my mercies in tranquil dependence. My
wife, my children, my servants, my property, all so suitable, so
calculated to administer to my comfort, and to leave me no reasonable
earthly wish unfulfilled. All, my dear friend, is so well; all so
mercifully regulated, that I sometimes look around me with surprise, and
am almost led to suspect lest the treacherous calm should be merely the
forerunner of some tremendous storm. But the consideration does not
alarm me; for “God is love.”
From your truly affectionate
and ever sincere Friend,
GEORGE MORTIMER.
* * * * *
In the month of May, 1815, he was invited to Madeley by many of the
parishioners, a deputation from whom waited upon the rector, the Rev. H.
Burton, to request he might be appointed curate; and, accordingly, he
removed thither on the 8th of the ensuing month. The following letter
addressed to the editor refers to the event, and enters somewhat into the
particulars of it:—
Madeley, near Shiffnal, Salop.
June 15th, 1815.
My dear Friend,
FEW things were further from my thoughts, when I last wrote to you, than
that I should now be addressing a letter to you from the above-mentioned
place; but, “the Lord’s ways are not our ways, nor his thoughts our
thoughts;” we may contrive, but he controls. I had imagined that my lot
was, for some time to come, assigned to me among my dear people at
Wellington, and that in my late house of mercies, surrounded by the
family of my excellent vicar, and his valuable assistant, I should
continue to flourish and grow like a tree planted by rivers of waters.
But the Lord has seen fit to transplant me; of its being his work I feel
fully assured; and, therefore, I can now expect my comforts and blessings
in a different way and through other channels. Thus, goodness and mercy
have followed me all the days of my life, and will still follow me. I
do, indeed, quite wonder at the change; it seems more like a dream than
otherwise, that I should be fixed in this place and parish, of which I
had so often read, and which has always been associated in my mind with
that wonderful and astonishing man of God, the late venerable Mr. De la
Flèchere. But you will, perhaps, wish to know the steps which led me
hither. Mr. Walters, the late curate (or rather the present, for he does
not leave till next Tuesday) having heard of a situation which seemed, in
many respects, more congenial to his views than that of Madeley, gave
notice of its being his intention to leave, in the church on Sunday after
divine service. The people were much surprised at the communication; but
since the choice of their minister has usually been left to themselves,
they immediately began to look around them; and, having fixed upon me,
they begged of Mr. Eyton, that he would give me up, and of myself, that I
would undertake the cure of the place. Had I been disposed to consult
merely with flesh and blood, Madeley would have been the last place to
which I should have consented to have gone; but, as dear Mrs. Fletcher
and the people of all descriptions seemed desirous of my coming among
them, I thought it would be wrong to resist the order of God, and, as
such, professed a willingness to let them do anything with me which they
should please. A deputation was accordingly sent to Mr. Burton, the
vicar, who resides on another living a few miles off, requesting him to
appoint me. He received them, in the first instance, with a degree of
coolness which led them to conclude that there was but little hope. He
did not even tell them that he would consider the application, but put
them off with mentioning another person who, he thought, would suit him.
Under such circumstances, prayer seemed the only resort, and to the
prayers of the church I believe I have been given, and to these alone.
In about ten days after the first application, I heard through the medium
of a relation of his, that he had some intentions of appointing me, and
as such I waited upon him, and was received both by himself and his wife
with a degree of cordiality and attention which quite surprised me. We
soon came to terms, and I have since heard, from various sources, that he
is not only well disposed towards me, but quite congratulates himself
upon my having undertaken his cure. Such wonderful revolutions, both in
mind and in circumstances, is the Lord able to effect. All things being
thus far adjusted, I began to look out for a situation for myself, and
for a suitable tenant for the house I was about to leave, and in both
respects have I been led most remarkably to see the hand of God. The
house I now occupy has been desired by many, as it is the only one in the
place at all suitable for a person in my circumstances; but a
disagreement among the persons who had to let it, prevented everything
like an amicable prospect, and it has been strangely left in the midst of
all for me. How kind and how condescending is the care of God! How does
it reach even to the minutest particulars, and much more to the
commodiously and pleasantly assigning the bounds of our habitation. Our
removal also has been attended with blessings. Scarcely anything, in the
shape of injury, has hitherto been perceived, and what trivial matters
have been noticed have only tended to increase our gratitude, by shewing
us what might have been, had not God given his charge as connected with
them. You will smile, perhaps, at these kind of enumerations; but I feel
a pleasure in adverting to them myself, and, therefore, I must beg your
indulgence. “A special and minute providence is an object of my firm
belief, as well as a source of my calmest and most extensive joys. I
love to dwell on such a truth as this, ‘The very hairs of your head are
all numbered.’”
You have heard, perhaps, of the Honourable Mr. Ryder having been made
Dean of Wells, and of his most decided and open exhibition of piety in
his exalted situation. About a month ago he was made Bishop of
Gloucester, an event which has filled the hearts of the pious in our
Establishment with inexpressible gratitude. It may, indeed, be said by
us on such an occasion, “The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof
we are glad,” and to his name would we ascribe the praise. A lady of my
acquaintance happened, at the time when his appointment was known, to be
dining in a party at which Mr. Wilberforce was present, and she states,
that two or three times he could not help saying in the most animated
manner, “I am afraid, I am too glad at it, but it is such a great thing.”