Madeley, Oct. 4, 1819.
My last informed you of the seeming health of our dear little Basil: on Monday last, we availed ourselves of a favourable opportunity of having him christened, and we all thought that, though a little fallen away, he was looking very well. On Wednesday, however, he was attacked with infantine cholera morbus, and on the morning of yesterday his happy spirit burst its way to God. To us, indeed, the scene was very affecting; it was the first inroad death had been permitted to make among us, and his entrance spread a degree of awe upon our minds such as we had not known before. The strong feelings of affection likewise, and numerous endearing recollections, kept making us weep till, like David and his men, we seemed to have no more power to weep, and even all the grateful expressions which kept bursting from our thankful hearts, could only be uttered amidst our quickly flowing tears. These stronger feelings, however, have now somewhat subsided, and a holy calm of gratitude has regained its seats within our breasts: our dear little one has, indeed, fled from among us, but he has fled to a far happier place—fled to the arms and bosom of his ever-to-be-adored Redeemer; and oh! how quick, as well as blessed, the transition!
“We scarce can say he’s gone,
Before his happy spirit takes
Its station near the throne.”
To-morrow, we think of committing his dear remains to the silent tomb. I have been selecting and marking out a suitable spot to be employed, should we continue here, for the successive members of our family, as they may be called from among us, and my prayer has been ascending to my blessed Redeemer that we may every one of us leave as firm a persuasion behind us of the safety of our eternal state, as our dear little Basil has. And, indeed, his removal has given me an increased confidence that this will be the case; for our united prayers for our dear children have ever been, that they might either live a holy life, or die an early death. My dear wife, though weak, is very mercifully supported in the season of our trial; she feels, and that at times very sensibly, but peaceful gratitude is still her constant companion: I say gratitude; for it is not mere submission, it is the peaceful grateful adoration of that gracious God who is too wise to err, too good to be unkind; and I am very thankful for all the support and consolation which our kind Saviour so mercifully affords her. I think of having a small head stone for my little boy, mentioning his name, the day of his death and his age, and, underneath, the following lines which I put down in my pocket book when you and I were at Enfield, little, indeed, imagining at the time that I should ever have a dear child of my own over whose grave they would be inscribed:—
“On Life’s wide Ocean sorrowful and pained,
How many Voyagers their course perform;
This little bark a kinder fate obtained,
It reached the Haven ere it met the storm.”
Mr. Mortimer very kindly received the writer’s son William (now a clergyman, and British chaplain at Valparaiso, in South America) into his family, to be educated with his own children, and it is to this child that allusion is made in the following letter addressed to him.
Madeley, February 28, 1820.
My dear Armstrong,
I have entered into these details, conceiving that no communication can be more interesting to a father than those which concern an endeared child; and happy shall I be if all my future communications be equally pleasing. Of this, however, I have but little expectations. Many and very painful fluctuations have I witnessed in my own children, and have heard of the children of others, and therefore my dear friend must not be surprised if my little charge should at times disappoint our expectations or our wishes. Oh what lovely, what heavenly blossoms have I sometimes delightfully discovered in my eldest little boy! He has seemed even ripening for glory, and that also so rapidly, that we have almost imagined that his stay would not be long among us. Tears of gratitude have stood in our eyes while we have seen the gracious evidences, or while we have been relating them to each other. In a few weeks, however, the blossoms and the fruit have almost totally disappeared, and have left us to sorrow in temporary disappointment, or to find comfort only in the cheering exhilaration of hope. Then, again, the winter has passed, and lovely spring has once more appeared. But it is all well; the harvest of none of our labours is to be expected here; it is in that blessed world above that we shall reap, provided that we faint not; and what greater stimulus can we need to keep urging us forward even in the midst of every species of discouragement?
William told me a few evenings ago that Mrs. Armstrong had received a letter from you, which kept her in doubt as to whether you would join her, or she you. I know so little of what would be for the best, that I would not attempt to influence you in one way or other. The greatest benefit which I can confer on my endeared friend is, to bring him and his concerns to One who loves him infinitely more than I can do, and whose infallible direction is promised in his holy word to the inquiring soul. It was the prayer of my kind friends, I am persuaded, which kept me in England when I had felt it my duty to take even most decided measures for leaving it. When they objected to my step, I almost invariably requested them to pray for providential hindrances, if my intentions were not in the divine order; and I told them, if I knew anything of myself, I should not attempt either to break through the hedge, or to overleap the wall. The kind Saviour heard their prayer, and I have never been so fully persuaded of anything as of this, that my being detained in England was completely of the Lord. Should my dear Armstrong be projecting that which is not in the will and order of his God, may the same merciful Saviour hedge up his way, and plant the piercing thorn at every step, to render his progress painful, and eventually to deter him! But should his removal be from God, then may all difficulties and impediments vanish completely from before him!