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LIFE AND LETTERS.

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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.

The Life and Letters of the Rev. George Mortimer, M.A

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