By the commencement of my letter, you will perceive that I have been wandering as well as yourself; and, considering the difference of our locomotive powers, I am almost disposed to regard my own movements as the most astonishing. Madeley I have entirely given up, and left in the hands of my dear friend Cooper, than whom, I know not any one more suited to the place. He is, I find, very acceptable. I can say but little at present of myself: for my first object in settling here was the health of myself and family, which has already, I am thankful to say, been considerably improved. And now I am waiting for the first eligible employment which shall present itself in Bristol, that my renewed health and strength may be devoted to the glory of Him who has mercifully restored them, and to the benefit, I trust, of those around me. But though I have not as yet any settled employment, I am almost constantly engaged twice on the Sabbath, and, were I not resolutely to refuse, I should frequently be requested to take a third service.
TO THE SAME.
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.