ADDRESS OF THE MINISTER OF MADELEY TO THE INHABITANTS OF MADELEY WOOD AND ITS VICINITY.
Vicarage, March 23, 1822.
My endeared Parishioners,
The very kind reception given to the Address which I circulated among the inhabitants of Coalbrookdale and its vicinity, and the feelings of mutual love and affection it has been the means of eliciting, encourage me to hope that a similar appeal to yourselves will be attended with equally beneficial results.
The principal reason of my now addressing you, is, that I have very painfully witnessed, within the short space of two or three weeks, a great increase of party spirit arising from the measures recently adopted towards forming and carrying on a Sunday school separate and distinct from that which has so long been established among us. The natural consequences of such procedures, I am willing to hope, you did not sufficiently estimate, or I can hardly imagine you would so hastily, and at such a time, have adopted them. You are sensible, I think, that my wish is for peace; that my great desire is, that love may not only prevail, but abound more and more; and that I am striving to pursue that line of conduct, which, as a consistent minister of the Established Church, devolves upon me, so as not to give the least unnecessary offence to others. Permit me, then, to ask, whether these recent measures are at all likely to produce such pacific results? Do they not rather tend to range more decidedly than ever under distinct and separate parties, not only the superintendents and teachers, but likewise the parents of the children themselves? Do they not in some measure force persons to declare themselves on one side or other, and that not merely in opinion, but likewise in decisive action? And are not the individuals, thus compelled to declare themselves, regarded with suspicion by those who move in contrary directions? I would inquire, then, is all this calculated to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace? And are those individuals our best friends who are most earnest in this work of alienation? I mean no personal allusions, I assure you, to any individual among you: I hope I very sincerely love you all; and I wish that bonds of union may be multiplied, which may bring us closer and closer together, instead of these cords of separation which, drawing in other directions, will every day remove us to a greater and yet greater distance.
Permit me also to ask whether this is the time for such exertions? If indeed your minister were sleeping at his post; if he were lying down, and loving to slumber; if the schools happened to be on the decline in respect of numbers, or in regard to the insufficiency of superintendents or teachers; if scarcely anything were going forward adequate to the necessities of the parish; then, indeed, such exertions might be called for. But how contrary is all this to the real state of the case! It is at a time when the schools are so crowded as to render it impossible to instruct them in the usual place: it is at a time when, to afford greater facilities of instruction, the larger schools are being divided into twenty or thirty minor schools, and these so situated as to be almost at the door of every child in the parish, and so arranged as to admit of every one being taught who is capable of instruction. You will readily perceive, then, that the stir which is making at present, is by no means called for in the existing necessities of the case. To what, then, must it be attributed? It is commonly reported that it arises from a fear entertained by some, lest my present plans and procedures should attach too many children to the Established Church, and thus eventually make them Churchmen instead of Methodists. This reason, however, I feel I ought by no means to admit; for, whatever may be said of others, the Methodists of the parish of Madeley have long made it their boast that they were firm in their attachment to our venerable Church: and so strong has been their attachment, that the majority of them would never listen to any proposals of having their services so conducted as at all to interfere with the services of the church, and would never permit the sacrament to be administered in their chapels; and there are many who feel a secret satisfaction in being able to state, that they have never yet partaken of the sacred ordinance, excepting from a clergyman; and they are still determined that no one shall ever make this their consistent glorying to be in vain. [146] It is with peculiar satisfaction, that I consider my relation to such individuals; and I assure you, I rejoice over you as my parishioners; I point you out as an example to others; and I hope we shall never see the time when the parishioners, and more especially the spiritual sons and daughters of the venerable and apostolic Mr. Fletcher, shall cease to be identified with that Church of which he was so bright an ornament, as well as minister. I feel, therefore, that it would be the height of injustice to suppose, that the mass of such of my people as are termed Methodists have any fear of their children becoming members of the Established Church; nay, they would rather rejoice in it;—they rejoice in it even now;—and some of them go so far as even to recommend it. They tell their children, in the fulness of their Catholic spirit, that their own attachment to the people with whom they are joined, never arose from dissatisfaction to the Church, but from a natural love to the private means which their own people at that time so exclusively possessed. But they add, that as these same private means are now offered to them in connexion with the Established Church, they would advise them to join themselves with its respected members; and hence it is, that not a few among our classes are the sons and daughters of such honoured individuals. I say honoured, for who can withhold from such the proper meed of approbation; for such heal the breaches of our Zion, they build up its waste places; they repair the desolations of many generations.
I am aware, however, that the same extent of feeling is not cherished by all. Some prefer their own communion, their own instructors, and classes. But I have heard such with the greatest candour acknowledge, that their predilection arose merely from the circumstance that they happened to receive their first religious good among them; and that notwithstanding this their preference, they very highly respect the Church, and that they wish its ministers abundant success in their very important work. And this I am persuaded is the feeling of ninety-nine out of a hundred of the Methodists who compose my parish. The welcome they invariably give me when I enter their houses or cottages; the smile of approbation which brightens on their countenance when we exchange salutations as we pass; and the liberality which they discover in all points of possible difference whenever they are accidentally touched upon: all these things convince me that they have no hostility either to the Church or to myself, and of course that they would not willingly enter upon any plan which might have the least semblance of opposition.
To what, then, some will still ask, must these procedures connected with the schools be attributed? I feel, I confess, somewhat at a loss to determine. I hope, however, that they have arisen merely from a well-meant, though certainly an ill-timed, zeal—a zeal, likewise, which has a direct tendency, though not previously estimated, to promote disunion among us, and a diminution of loving Christian feelings. But whatever may have been the cause of these procedures, I do hope, that the serious evils which are beginning as a consequence to break forth, will not only be checked, but entirely subside; and that all parties, superintendents, teachers, and parents, will each in their respective stations be ready to show that they are not among the last to bring about so desirable an issue.
And now, with very sincere affection, believe me, my much-endeared Parishioners,
Your faithful Friend and Minister,
George Mortimer.
The following simple narrative, related by his attached and faithful servant Fanny, also beautifully displays the very kind and earnest, though very decided, character of the excellent pastor of Madeley.
“Some of the beer shops at the Iron Bridge used to be kept open very late at night, and master was determined to put a stop to their being open later than ten o’clock. He used to go to them, and turn out all the men that were drinking in them after that time. This enraged some of these men so much, that they declared they would kill master; for they said, ‘they were determined that no parson should interfere with them.’ Some of master’s friends heard of this, and told him, and tried to persuade him not to go to the Iron Bridge the next night; and Mr. and Mrs. Thomas did not wish him to go; and we all begged him to stay at home that night; but he told us he was not at all afraid of the men, and when I said that they would be sure to do him some harm, he said, ‘Why, Fanny, they have no power over me to hurt me; the Almighty is above them.’ So master went to the public house, and saw the very men that had threatened to kill him, and he talked to them for a long time, and told them that they ought to have been at home with their families, and that he hoped he should never see them there again. He spoke so kindly, that they all listened to him, and never offered to hurt him; and when he had done talking to them, they told him, that they had fully determined to make an attack upon him that night, but that then they felt as if they had no power to hurt him. So master shook hands with them all, and then they all took off their hats and wished him ‘safe home,’ and ‘long life to him.’ And they were never there again after ten o’clock; and I think what master said to them then, did one or two of them so much good, that they afterwards became pious.”
Mr. Mortimer was equally desirous of putting a stop to the desecration of the Lord’s day by the bargemen on the River Severn, and, for this purpose, he tried every means to prevent the barges from sailing on the Sunday. In doing this, he experienced great opposition from some of the barge owners, who purposely, as it appeared, kept their vessels locked at Coalport at the latter end of the week, and released them on the Sunday. At length Mr. M. was compelled to take them before the magistrates, and have them fined, by which means he succeeded in entirely putting a stop to this desecration.
He exerted himself also to have the law enforced against keeping open the public houses and beer shops during the time of divine service.
He took pains to prevent the children from playing about the roads and fields on the Sunday, and to secure the orderly behaviour of the Sunday scholars in going to and returning from the Sunday schools. There were at one period six hundred children in the different schools in the parish of Madeley.
The class meetings consisted of six; one for women, conducted by Mrs. Mortimer, and the other five by Mr. M. Once a quarter, the six classes met at one place. Mr. Mortimer’s object in having these class meetings, though he evidently considered them as auxiliary to the public ordinances of religion, was to prevent the serious members of his congregation from joining the Methodists, which he had constantly found to be the case at Wellington.
The following token of affectionate esteem was, no doubt, very acceptable to the feelings of Mr. Mortimer, not so much from the worth of it, as from the motive which gave rise to it—a motive at once honourable to the hearts of the donors and to the character of the receiver. This token was a handsome octavo Bible, bound in morocco, inscribed on one side,
“To the Rev. George Mortimer, M.A.
A Token of Christian Regard
From the Male Class, meeting under his care at Lincoln-hill,
1817.”
And on the other side,
“With a sincere desire that the rich promises contained herein may be his consolation through life, and his support in death.”
The following anecdote may, perhaps, be more suitably introduced here than elsewhere, because, in all probability, it was during his residence at Madeley that the fact recorded took place, though it was not related to his daughter, who communicated it to me, before the winter of 1842–3, during a sleigh-drive with her father, while descending a hill, which was in a dangerous state, owing to its slipperiness and to there being no barrier on the one side which was the edge of a precipice.
“K— and I (and perhaps a third person, but I am not sure about that) were travelling from Wellington to Madeley in a post chaise. When we were about to descend a precipitous hill, something seemed to say to me, ‘Pray, you are in danger.’ I resisted the impression, and said to myself, it is all nonsense; I will not give way to superstitious fears. Again the warning was impressed on my mind, and I then paused and lifted up my heart in prayer to God. I had no sooner done so, than I heard the postillion contending with his horses, which were plunging into the hedge on one side of the road; then they dashed to the other side, and it appeared as though we should have been precipitated over the side of the hill; but we reached the bottom in safety. I then said to K—, ‘I will tell you what has been passing in my mind,’ and related to him all the circumstances. K— then told me, that just at the same time, as he supposed from my description of the spot, the same thing was suggested to his mind, and that at first he repelled the suggestion, but afterwards yielded to it; but that he had not the honesty to confess the circumstance till I had done so. I know K— well, and feel perfectly assured that he would tell me nothing but the truth; and from the remarkable circumstance of the suggestion being made to the minds of both of us, I cannot, but believe it was an intimation from above of our danger and of the necessity of prayer. For, although his angels are always at hand to succour us in danger, yet God has been pleased to make prayer a necessary means for obtaining their aid. When I am in my grave, tell this for the benefit of others as an encouragement to prayer.”
My dear young friend and god-daughter adds, “I was very much impressed by the charge with which my dear father concluded, and, that I might be the better able to fulfil it, I wrote down the whole relation when I returned home, of which the above is a copy.”
I very gladly comply with a hope expressed by Mr. Mortimer’s eldest daughter that I will insert in the memoir of her dear father, a letter addressed to her by him when she was about ten years of age; and, as it was written during his residence at Madeley, I insert it here before we take leave of that place:—
“We returned to Madeley on the evening of last Thursday week; and I am thankful to state that we have all of us received considerable benefit from our journey. Your brothers and sisters seemed to enjoy themselves exceedingly. The latter part of the time we were joined by your uncle, who spent about eight days with us; and having hired a car for that time capable of holding eight or nine persons, we were enabled to see all that was worth seeing in the neighbourhood. We often wished that you and C— had been with us in our excursions; but more particularly while we were going over the castle of Aberconway, for it struck us as conveying one of the most perfect ideas of both the extent and uses of a castle of any we could recollect to have seen. The town also is surrounded by a strong and turretted wall, and gives a good notion of a walled city, such as we read of as connected with former times.
“We greatly prefer Glan y don to Barmouth. It is about six miles from Abergeley, in Denbighshire, North Wales. It is situated in a delightful recess termed Llandrillo Bay, and the scenery all around is picturesque in the extreme. Such a pleasing combination of the sublime and beautiful I have seldom seen. The sea-shore, however, after all, presented us with the chief attractions. I collected and fixed the names of many of our English shells, and that also in a state far more perfect than before. I began also a collection of marine plants. These I shall have pleasure in showing to you when you return home. You will be surprised, perhaps, when I tell you that they amount to upwards of sixty different sorts, and these are exceedingly few in comparison of those I should have met with had we been there a longer time, or had we waited for the equinoctial winds, which, perhaps you know, bring the greatest quantity of marine substances to the shore, tearing them from the rocks to which they adhere and grow.
“A— begins to learn the names of a few of the more common shells, and was much pleased with making an incipient collection. He has purchased some plain cards, and, after dividing them by pencil marks into regular departments, he pasted his specimens upon them; and I think you will say, they look tolerably well.
“Your aunt — stopped with us about a fortnight after you left us, and I accompanied her up to London. The only coach, which we could with any convenience go by, was principally occupied by nine convicts, who were being conveyed from Shrewsbury to London, previous to transportation; and, during the night, two of them were in the coach with your aunt and myself. These were two of the most noted pickpockets belonging to a Shrewsbury gang, and, as you will readily suppose, we were not at first much disposed to relish their company. But, as they were ironed and exceedingly well-behaved, we soon got reconciled to them, and were not a little interested in the observation of this novel description of character. It presented, however, a melancholy admixture of ingenuity and depravity.
“You will be sorry to hear that during our absence at the sea, poor Mr. P— died. He dropped down suddenly while standing in the rope-walk, and never spoke afterwards. He was advanced in years and his death was expected; but still, in such an uncertain world as this, who can be secure? May we all be fully prepared when our summons shall arrive.
“You inquire concerning H. He began his letters while we were at Glan y don; but I cannot say any great things as to his proficiency. Within these few days we have permitted him to dine at our table, and he has behaved so very well that we intend he should continue to do so for the future. L. and P., for nearly a month past, have been introduced to our morning family prayer, and I am happy to state that they conduct themselves with much propriety.”
After spending about eighteen months at Yardley, near Birmingham, exchanging duties with the vicar of that parish, Mr. Mortimer finally left Madeley and removed to Clifton, August 30, 1826; but the situation not being in accordance with his retired habits, he took a house at Horfield, whither he removed on the 10th of October of the same year. From this place was written the letter of which the following is an extract, bearing date, January 17, 1827.