IN his pastoral visits, Mr. Mortimer appears to have been remarkably
successful. He seems always to have paid attention to this very
important and often very useful part of the Christian pastor’s office,
but more especially during a few of the latter years of his life, making
his daily drives for the benefit of his health subservient to that
purpose. He made a point of visiting at first six, and afterwards ten
families during each week, by which arrangement he considered that he
could visit each family four times during the year, besides paying more
frequent visits in case of illness, or any particular affliction. He not
only visited the different members of his congregation and others
belonging to the church, but he went to every house in the immediate
neighbourhood, and, for several miles around, he knew the occupants of
almost every house. When he visited Roman Catholics, or Dissenters, he
never sought to enter into controversy with them; for he considered it,
in general, unprofitable, and seldom productive of the desired effect of
bringing them into the fold of the Church. He was far, however, from
shrinking from entering upon the subject, when it appeared desirable for
him to do so; and when the subject was brought forward in conversation,
he stated the grounds of his firm adhesion to his own communion, and
conscientiously, but with a mild and affectionate manner, warned them of
the sin of schism. On such occasions, _unity_ was generally the theme of
his discourse, and he would dwell much on its importance and obligations,
and urge upon them the consideration of that beautiful prayer, “That
they, Father, may be one, as we are.” He was never satisfied unless he
could give a decided religious turn to the conversations he had with his
people, but, even if he failed in doing this, he always contrived to
introduce some serious remark before he left their houses. A
Presbyterian, who was warmly attached to her own Church, when speaking of
Mr. Mortimer, said, “Ah, he was a real good man. I have often said, that
he and Mr. J. [the minister of her own communion] were the two best
ministers in Canada. I wouldna miss going to hear Mr. Mortimer preach in
the evening [she went to her own place of worship in the morning], but I
havena the heart to go now. I weel remember how he sat here, for near an
hour, talking to my husband the last time he was here. My husband served
at Waterloo, and they were talking about the battle, and such things; and
then he stopped all of a sudden, and smiled, and said, ‘but I didna come
here to talk about politics.’”
He was particularly desirous of impressing upon the minds of those whom
he visited the importance of individual and experimental religion, and
would constantly remind them that their great aim should be to prepare
for heaven.
He took also occasion to warn them of open sins which they were in the
habit of committing, such as drunkenness, or the neglect of public
worship. An old man, who frequently gave way to a habit of intoxication,
and, perhaps from this cause, has now become prematurely infirm and
almost childish, alluded to the last visit of his pastor in the following
manner:—“On the Thursday—the Thursday, you mind, before he died—old Mr.
Mortimer came to see me in his little carriage, and his man drove him:
and he gave me a caution. He said, ‘Mr. —, I saw you on Yonge-street a
short time since, and you were drunk;’ and on the next Saturday he was a
corpse, and I lost my brother:” and the old man turned aside to hide his
tears.
The husband, or rather the widower, of a Presbyterian, mentioned that his
wife had frequently remarked to him, that there could not be a better
minister by a sick bed than Mr. Mortimer: for that he never excited
persons, but that at the same time he did not delude them about their
eternal prospects, but spoke candidly to them, according to their
different states of mind. She said that there was no minister that she
should so much like to see, if she were ill, as Mr. Mortimer. Her wish,
however, was not gratified, for she survived him about half-a-year.
Another person, a member of a Presbyterian family in the neighbourhood,
after stating that Mr. Mortimer was very much missed, said, “And no one
misses him more than my mother; for he used to come and sit with her, and
talked so nicely to her, that it did her so much good—it did her good
till he came again. There will never be another minister like Mr.
Mortimer: if there were to come five thousand, there would not be another
like him.” {268a}
He took an interest in the concerns of those whom he visited, and,
following the example of St. Paul, strove to “please all men in all
things, not seeking his own profit, but the profit of many, that they
might be saved.” “He was not naturally fond of children, and I was much
struck, on that account, with the remark of a woman when talking about
the visits of my dear father; ‘Ah, miss, your father was mighty fond of
this little one, and he took so much notice of him the very last time he
was here!’ Another woman said, ‘Ah! he was a real gentleman, and he
would sit down with us, and talk so free and pleasant-like.’” {268b}