Horfield, near Bristol, May 23, 1827.
My much-endeared Friend,
FOR with these appellations I must address you, though the long intervals
which I suffer to transpire between my addresses may perhaps induce the
suspicion that they are not the legitimate expressions of the heart. But
as this is the general, not to say the universal, character of my
correspondence, and as you must, by this time, have had sufficient
opportunities of discovering my weak points, I will comfort myself with
the hope, that though you find me tardy, yet that you will not regard me
as insincere.
Your letter of the 18th of August last was conveyed, I presume, through
some private hand, and did not reach me till some months after its date.
It contained, as you will perhaps recollect, the painful accounts of the
bereavements which you have lately been called to endure, in the loss of
your two most beloved daughters; and to one of your disposition and
habits—one so affectionate, and domestic, and in every sense paternal—the
dispensation must have been one of no ordinary suffering; and yet so
sweetly do the feelings of the true Christian combine with those of the
sorrowing parent, that I almost envy you the power which you so blessedly
possess; an attainment to which I look up, when I consider it in
reference to yourself, with admiring gratitude; but which, when I advert
to, in contrast to my own imperfect and limited experience, humbles me in
the dust. Hitherto, indeed, I have had but little affliction in my
family; yet that little has not been borne with that meek and patient
submission—with that deadness to the world and that detachment from the
creature—which ought to characterize the child of God. But if I so
readily faint in the day of comparatively minor sorrows, how can I be
expected to stand in the day of increased and lengthened suffering—the
_evil_ day, asked for by Satanic malignity, and rendered but too
necessary in order to bring before me the latent evils of my own
unsanctified heart? Still, however, the divine panoply has been
mercifully provided; and what should hinder me from becoming strong in
the Lord and in the power of his might? I will therefore hope in his
mercy. I will expect, that should sufferings await me, such as those
with which my endeared friend has been visited, I may still be enabled to
glorify my God in the day of my visitations; and then all will be well.
For sanctified sorrow not only loses all its pungent and corrosive, and
deadly qualities, and thus leaves our neutralized minds in the possession
of calm and settled peace; but it has reference also to that happy and
eternal state above, where all our light and momentary afflictions shall
be succeeded by that inconceivable weight of glory which shall suffer
neither diminution nor end.
* * * * *
Mr. Mortimer’s next engagement in the duties of his sacred office, was at
St. Mary le Port, Bristol, first undertaken temporarily during the
serious illness of the regular minister, the Rev. Thomas Grinfield, which
lasted for some months, and afterwards sharing the services with him for
a year, before his going to the curacy of Hutton. He entered upon this
duty for the first time, on Sunday, December 10, 1826, and continued in
the discharge of it until the end of September, 1828. In this sphere he
seems to have laboured with peculiar pleasure, acceptance, and
usefulness; his talents as a preacher appear to have been better
appreciated, and his services more valued, than in any other situation
that he filled either before or afterwards; and, speaking after human
judgment, I cannot help regretting that ever he felt it to be his duty to
leave a field of so much promise, and one which he was so well calculated
to improve and cultivate; and, if I do not greatly mistake, his own mind
was not entirely free from feelings of regret on this subject. Of his
adaptation to the place and of the benefits resulting from his ministry
there, he was not himself insensible. He thus writes to his sister, Mrs.
Holland, August 5, 1828:—
“In my ministerial duties it has pleased the Lord to give me a degree
of acceptance among my present charge which I was never favoured with
before. At Madeley, indeed, the attendance was good, and as much of
interest was kept up and spiritual benefit conveyed, as kept my
naturally anxious and misgiving mind from quite sinking; but in
Bristol it has been far otherwise. The attendance at church has
greatly increased; the affection of the people seems to be given me
in an unusual degree; and I do hope the blessing of the Lord keeps
bringing home the word with power to their hearts.”
He makes reference also to his labours at St. Mary le Port, in a letter
to the Rev. John Cooper, in terms which sufficiently indicate his own
feelings and sentiments, and which are plainly expressive of his own
judgment upon a comparative view of his services at Bristol with those
performed elsewhere.
Hutton, near Cross, Somersetshire, Feb. 4, 1829.
My much-endeared Friend,
I AM quite ready to acknowledge my faults; and lest, through
forgetfulness, I should in a similar manner offend in this instance also,
I am determined to despatch my communication at once. You kindly allude
to gratification received from this source in time past. Such hints
coming even from an indifferent quarter, always frighten me; they make me
fancy that something will of course be expected for the future; and
knowing so fully the mere business-like strain in which I am generally
accustomed to write, and my want of spirituality when I touch upon
serious subjects, I have such a shrinking, not to say horror and dread of
letters of mere friendship, that while intending to pay my just and
lawful debts in this department, I keep insensibly postponing their
discharge, till I fancy my answers would be out of date, and would fain
sit down with a quiet and contented mind. Creditors, however, are those
merciless kind of beings that it is no easy matter to escape out of their
hands, and ever and anon some upbraiding or threatening communication
appears in due form before me. Not, however, that I could be so wanting
in urbane feelings, as to speak in such terms of Madeley despatches; they
are, of course, the merest and most gentle of all mementos—all lapses of
time are so graciously overlooked, and the most unblushing halts on the
part of the most notorious offender are rather implied than expressed.
You will therefore be kindly pleased to accept my most humble and
grateful acknowledgments for such unmerited mercy; and hoping for ever to
profit by such benignity, I now beg leave to conclude my lengthened
exordium.
As you appear to have seen my good friend Y—, you have no doubt heard
from him most of the particulars connected with my recent change. I do,
indeed, most fully believe, that I am in the spot to which I have been
most evidently directed of the Lord; and in respect to outward comfort
and suitableness of employment, I suppose I should hardly find another
situation equally eligible; _but_, _after all_, _I cannot help regretting
the termination of my Mary le Port engagements_. Much kindness have I
received in various forms from my Madeley people—much also, and most
strongly expressed, from my temporary charge at Yardley; _but I never
seemed to live so fully in the hearts of any of my people as those_,
_from whom unavoidable circumstances have so recently separated me_. I
am persuaded, however, that all is right both for me and for them; and if
developing circumstances should not reveal this to the eye of sense, yet
that faith which brings its luminous atmosphere around the results of
cautious procedure and humble dependence will cheer the mind with its
present assurance, till it shall conduct us to that world where, without
the least shadow of a misgiving, we shall acknowledge that our guiding
and gracious Saviour “hath done all things well.” My outward path has
indeed, for some time past, been in many respects somewhat mysterious and
painfully perplexing; but such are frequently the movements even of those
who not only have the cloudy pillar to guide them, but who also are
careful to follow its guidance. And, even allowing that ourselves have
not thus followed with this undeviating step, still we have the privilege
of penitent return; and, from whatever point we may retrace our wandering
step, we see the same heavenly guidance before us, waiting to conduct us
onward in the unerring way.
I feel much obliged for your interesting allusion to Madeley procedures;
your dispensary, infant-school, and clerical meeting, have all of them,
not only the approval of my judgment, but of my heart. . . . And
therefore I do, in all respects, most sincerely rejoice that the kind and
gratifying permission of which you speak was ever given to me. My fear,
however, is, lest you should be doing too much, encouraged by that
_half_-untrue and sadly delusive maxim, “Better to wear away than to rust
away.” I would rather have you patronise that far more prudential
substitute suggested by the biographer of Leigh Richmond, “I labour less
that I may labour longer.”
I do indeed most sincerely rejoice with you in the blessed testimony
afforded to you by your endeared and dying sister, to the faithfulness of
our gracious and Omnipotent Redeemer. How few are the families where the
leavening influence of true religion has been more extensively or more
blessedly experienced!
We had not heard of the arrival of our Ceylon friends till your last
reached us. Most truly rejoiced shall we be to be permitted to meet
them; but the notorious offender has some draw-back to his anticipated
pleasure—a four or five years’ _halt_ keeps haunting his perturbed mind.
Nor let your gifted men of punctuality smile, as they read these
compunctious movements—these reiterated confessions,—lest our insulted
spirits spring from beneath the ignominious tread, and, elate with all
the consciousness of our newly acquired powers, hold ourselves in
readiness to repel the charge and to retaliate the affront.
You have heard, I suppose, of my having taken three pupils to instruct
with my own children; my time, as you can readily imagine, is far from
sluggishly employed; my health, however, is, and has been for some time
past, through God’s blessing, unusually good. Within the last three
weeks, I have been a little threatened with a return of Madeley feelings,
but this has been through attempting too much.
Our united and very kindest love attends Mrs. C. yourself, and family,
and