TO THE REV. JOHN COOPER.
Hutton, Aug. 9, 1831.
My dear Friend,
I did, indeed, intimate to Miss P. my intention to write to you at an early opportunity, and I am quite ashamed and sorry that I should have delayed doing this so long. Your very kind and most interesting letter, received a few days since, has not only opened my eyes, but warmed my heart; and, even were I disposed any longer to postpone, I should find it somewhat difficult to do it.
I do, indeed, most sincerely rejoice with you in all the goodness and mercy which have attended you during your residence in Madeley.
You kindly and delicately suppose that the incipient attentions showed you, on your first going there, were in some measure from their kindly feelings towards myself. Possibly, the glowing descriptions of a friend might have prepared the minds of many for expectation, and have procured for you the more than ordinary courtesies of introduction. But such expectations would have terminated in all the vexation of contrast, had there not been that suitableness in my dear friend which I had supposed, and which the parishioners were in no way backward to discover. It is with much gratitude to our God and Saviour that I look back on the whole of the past transaction: the circumstances which seemed indispensably to require my own separation from the dear people of Madeley; their hopelessness respecting a suitable successor; your willingness to accept the charge; the kind vicar’s willing consent; and the long interval of reciprocal endearment which has since been experienced—one so cordial, and so thorough * * * and, surely, that most munificent and touching act of their kindly feeling and high respect which they showed you on your departure, is no small proof of the accuracy of my supposition.
“Hitherto hath the Lord helped me,” may be the encouraging motto of my friend. And greatly will it rejoice me to hear that in his new, and yet more extensive sphere of labour, the same distinguishing mercy from on high attends him: you go accompanied with many prayers, and encouraged with many a cheering recollection of the past; and, what is more comforting, I will freely acknowledge, to my own mind, you go onward with a humble sense of your own nothingness; surprised at the results of mercy which you see; pausing, not in self-congratulation, but in lowly gratitude, to survey and express them.
* * * * * * * *
The account which you give of the new vicar is very encouraging, and answers, in all respects, to the other testimonies which have reached me.
The times seem peculiarly perilous, both politically and ecclesiastically; though I was never given to “croak,” yet I cannot but feel that we are on the eve of danger. God only can avert it, and in Him is my hope; but out of Him everything seems gloomy and foreboding. Could my dear wife see and feel with myself, I think it probable, that I should make some effort to escape from all this stormy wind and tempest, to some one or other of our colonial shores, and there endeavour to establish my family under more auspicious promises than those afforded by our native land: for the mercantile day of England has long been declining, and with our increasing population no very cheering prospects can be cherished. [171] My way, however, is not yet clear; and till my path is opened, I feel no desire to proceed. With your own large family, thoughts of the future will no doubt, at times, be attempting anxiously to intrude. But I know full well the accustomed sobriety of your mind, and can easily imagine how quietly and peacefully you leave these bewildering anticipations with Him who has encouraged us to cast all our care upon Himself. In this, as in other respects, may I ever be endeavouring to follow you.