The Life and Letters of the Rev. George Mortimer, M.A. / Rector of Thornhill, in the Diocese of Toronto, Canada West

by John Armstrong

Transcribed from the 1847 Aylott and Jones edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org

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THE
LIFE AND LETTERS
OF THE
REV. GEORGE MORTIMER, M.A.
RECTOR OF THORNHILL,
IN THE DIOCESE OF TORONTO, CANADA WEST.

COMPILED AND PREPARED

BY THE REV. JOHN ARMSTRONG, B.A.,

BRITISH CHAPLAIN OF MONTE VIDEO,
SOUTH AMERICA.

“I bear the greatest veneration for the memory of that man (Archbishop Leighton) that I do for any man; and reckon my early knowledge of him, and my long and intimate conversation with him, among the greatest blessings of my life; and for which I know I must give an account to God, at the great day, in a most particular manner.” Bishop Burnet.

LONDON:
AYLOTT AND JONES, PATERNOSTER ROW

MDCCCXLVII.

LONDON:
J. UNWIN, BUCKLERSBURY.

PREFACE.

Though I feel it to be really a privilege to be the instrument of introducing to the public the life and correspondence of the most intimate friend, especially of my early life, that I have ever possessed, and of one of the truly excellent in the earth; yet, from an unfeigned consciousness of my incompetency for the task, I would most willingly have left it to other hands, and to other hands I offered it, and urged upon them my earnest desire that they would undertake it; but from all I received excuses as to themselves, and pressing invitations to myself to engage in the work. They conceived that I might possess more materials for the purpose than any other person; but they knew not the slenderness of my capacity to prepare the memoir of one whose general character, talents and excellences, merit a much abler pen than mine, to set them forth with perspicuity and advantage.

His old friend and associate at Wellington, the Rev. John King, now Incumbent of Christ Church, Hull, to whom I wrote on the subject, thus addressed me:—“But independently of all considerations of this kind, I believe you would be much better qualified than myself, or than any other person I know, to do justice to the excellent yet peculiar character of the departed. Let me beseech you, therefore, to arrange your correspondence and materials with a view to publication.”

His excellent and much-loved sister, Mrs. Holland, wrote to me as follows:—“The early, close, continued, and personal acquaintance you had with my dear brother, constitute you, in my opinion, his most suitable biographer.”

And his brother, the Rev. Thomas Mortimer, wrote to me in a similar strain:—“On the very day that I received your letter, I was fully intending to write to you, entreating you not to abandon your design of writing a memoir of your dear departed friend, my beloved brother George. You, above all persons I know, are the man to undertake that work of love with any prospect of a successful issue. Your own correspondence with him, through such a long series of years, would alone furnish rich matter, I doubt not, for a biographer.”

Thus urged and encouraged, I was unwilling not to do my best: and if I have proved myself but an unfit steed to draw such a chariot, the friends, at least, of my dear departed friend must not forget that it was they who put me into it; and this same consideration also will, I hope, lead others to view the faults and imperfections of the work with indulgence. Happily for me, the work is one rather of selection and compilation than of original composition, and the life of my friend will suffer less from the hand that draws it up, by reason of his speaking chiefly for himself; his correspondence is, perhaps, his best memoir, and this is the kind of life that it falls to my lot to prepare of him.

The attentive perusal of his letters for publication has most vividly brought to my mind and remembrance the man whom, I can truly say, I loved almost as my own soul; very delightful was our intercourse with one another when associated together, very close was our intimacy, and warm and stedfast our friendship: and the great point of union between us, the connecting link in the chain of our connexion, was our common, and, I trust, unfeigned faith in Christ crucified for the salvation of mankind. We were neither of us originally destined for the service of the sanctuary; but it pleased God, early in life, to call us to the knowledge of himself, and to inspire us with an ardent desire to preach that gospel to others, who had ourselves been made personally sensible of the deliverance brought to the soul by it. Through God’s good providence also it was that we were both led to the same retired and secluded village of Chobham, in Surrey, where, under the instruction of the Rev. Charles Jerram, then curate of the parish, but since successively vicar of it, and Rector of Witney, Oxon, we received the finishing part of our education preparatory to our college course; and up to the time of our leaving the university, we were personally, as well as cordially, united, in no ordinary bonds of friendship, few days passing without our meeting together. From that time our personal intercourse may almost be said to have ceased; he spent a week with me in my first curacy in Bedfordshire, and I spent a week with him in Canada about two years before his death. In the intervening long period, we did not meet, I think, more than once; and that after promising one another a yearly exchange of visits, so little dependence can be placed upon the events of time. The time is coming, however, I trust, when our union will be again renewed, and become as personal and as cordial as before, but infinitely more pure and spiritual, and therefore more perfect and satisfactory—subject to no painful fluctuation or interruptions, and coeval with eternity.

Monte Video, January, 1847.

LIFE AND LETTERS.

George Mortimer, the interesting subject of the present Memoir, was the third son of Harvey Walklate Mortimer, the well known gun-maker in Fleet-street, London. He was born May 20th, 1784; and it pleased God to deprive him of his excellent mother the latter end of the following year. Thus bereaved of watchful maternal care, he was placed with a relative at Birmingham, who loved him tenderly. His health was delicate, and the deformity which ever after made “his bodily presence weak,” was caused by suffering him to sit and lie in one posture during a long illness, in which his restoration seemed impossible; God, however, was graciously pleased to spare him for future usefulness.

In the year 1787, his father again entered the married state, and George and his elder brothers were treated with the fondest attention. Little deserving of remark is known of the days of his childhood and youth; as he grew in years he attained to an average measure of bodily vigour, enjoyed a good share of health, and was generally beloved and esteemed. His first instruction was received under Doctor Hall, of East Acton; and he finished his scholastic pursuits with the Rev. Mr. Audinet, a French Protestant Clergyman, near the British Museum, who used to perform divine service in French, near the Seven Dials; here, in addition to other attainments, he acquired a knowledge of Latin and French. In November, 1798, he was bound apprentice to Mr. Otridge, a respectable bookseller in the Strand, with whom he continued for the usual period of seven years.

It is not exactly known at what period he became truly earnest and decided in the Christian life, though it appears to have been in the earlier years of his apprenticeship; and, as will hereafter be seen, he considered the late Joseph Butterworth, Esquire, for some time Member of Parliament for Dover, as his spiritual father. The first notice which we have of the state of his mind is found in a letter written to his elder sister, to whom he was fondly attached, dated August, 1801. Alluding to that happy period, he says:—

“When I first set out in the Christian race, I was mocked and laughed at, but this only drove me to my Saviour. I remember with what joy I could appeal to the Lord, and say, ‘Thou seest, O my God, what I endure for thy sake;’ and I assure you no moments were spent so pleasantly as those which I could get by myself in some retired place, to lift up my heart to God; sweet, indeed, were the comforts I thus enjoyed. I gave all into the hands of my Saviour, and everything I undertook prospered. When in want of anything, I prayed, and all my wants were supplied; indeed, I never remember anything being held from me, but, sooner or later, I saw it would have been hurtful. What encouragement to give all into his hands!”

Strand, 17th March, 1802.

It is with thankfulness to my kind and indulgent God that I can tell you my soul is in a prosperous state, and my desires after a higher degree of divine life greatly increased. The Lord is indeed blessing me; for though I still find wrong tempers unsubdued, these are my burden, and I cannot rest till I find daily pardon in the Redeemer of mankind.

Many extracts might be given from his letters written about this time to his sister, which indicate his uncommon devotedness to God, and his earnest desire for her advancement in the Christian life.

It has already been stated that he looked upon the late Mr. Jos. Butterworth as the instrument, in the Divine hand, which brought him into an acquaintance with his God and Saviour. Through the advice also of this same excellent man, it seems, he was led to turn his attention towards the service of the sanctuary; and, prior to his going up to the University, he went to the Rev. C. Jerram’s, to prepare himself for his collegiate course; and from that gentleman’s house the two following letters to his sister were written:—

Chobham House, 5th Nov. 1806.

Dear Mary,

That kind and gracious God who watches over his children for good has brought me safely to this place. The country, though at present deprived of many of its ornaments, has not lost its charms to me. I have now visited my accustomed haunts, and have experienced that pleasure in recalling past ideas, which is better conceived than expressed. On this spot I am reminded of a glorious view of the unchangeable love of God, and on that of his amazing condescension and my astonishing vileness; here I recollect the excellent Fenelon furnished me with pious considerations, and there the industrious and indefatigable bee stimulated my sloth; and the result of these recollections produced in my heart a glow of sincere affection to that God who had so variously visited me, and a determination to devote all my powers to the advancement of his glory.

Notwithstanding my haste to leave Islington, I found, on my arrival, I was the only one of Mr. Jerram’s pupils who had returned. At first I regretted not taking your advice, but the spiritual treat reserved for me soon made me change my mind. This treat was no less than the unexpected company of Mr. Venn, of Clapham. Mr. V. had come the day before to see Mr. Cecil, and spent that evening with Mr. Jerram. As it is natural when we taste fruit of a superior flavour to wish others to share our enjoyment, I could not help wishing my sister had been with me to partake of the pleasures I then received. I sat in all the luxury of silence, and listened to the gracious words which fell from his lips. Among the many things which warmed and charmed my heart, I think those made the greatest impression which related to his father. Oh, what a spiritual heavenly man! Mr. Jerram mentioned that he considered a few hours he was permitted to spend with him as the happiest and most profitable he ever experienced; “and so powerfully,” said he, “was his conversation impressed upon my mind, that it was uppermost in my thoughts for the succeeding half-year. It was such an epocha in my Christian life as I never enjoyed, either before or since.”

This day eight years I went to Mr. Otridge’s. What a variety of changes has taken place since that period! Of all I esteem that the most blessed which has brought me into my present circumstances. May God so bless me in this path that good may be imparted to my own soul, and glory ascribed to his name.

Chobham, 27th June, 1807.

Thank you for your kind, affectionate, and Christian remembrance on my birth-day; I had quite forgotten it; but this I remember, I was more than commonly blessed in prayer, and had peculiar delight in reading the Scriptures; indeed, I intended to note it down as a day of choicest blessings. May God favour me with many such days during the year on which I have entered! May many pentecostal seasons be given; may much humiliation and self-abasement before God be daily felt; may the foot of the cross be hourly visited, and may my views be incessantly directed to Him who lives in heaven to plead for me!

I received much good lately in reading Wilberforce on Christianity. I took it up as a book which I thought I ought to read, but did not expect that rich vein of excellence which I found in almost every part of the work; his Christianity is truly vital, and his diction admirable. I have also finished the life of Judge Hale, by Burnet, and am now reading Mr. Fletcher’s Letters. I scarcely ever read a few pages without profit; the wonderful spirit of this excellent man frequently brings tears from my eyes; I stop and reflect, and would give all the world, did I possess it, could I enjoy the same spirit. I am well persuaded that no blessings, excepting these, considered merely in themselves, are worth our pursuit. Greek, Latin, and Mathematics, are but a poor portion, if we have nothing more; it is my constant endeavour, therefore, that these things should sit lightly on my mind, that, while conscientiously improving every particle of my time, I may still reserve my heart for God.

The following extract is taken from the first letter of a correspondence with the writer’s endeared friend, which lasted almost without interruption during a period of twenty years, and, at distant intervals afterwards, until about two years before his death.