Chapter I: DO indeed feel myself much obliged to you for kindly breaking through

the impediments which my lengthened silence put in the way of our renewed intercourse. I often reproached myself for not writing; and yet there seemed such an awkwardness in recommencing, that I fear I should never have had courage to combat with it. But your truly welcome letter has opened my way, and I most gladly avail myself of the unexpected facility. But before I proceed to other matters, I ought to assure you that yours is not any personal or any peculiar or isolated case. All my friends, and even relatives, are successively neglected; and if it were not that so many of them are touched with a similar feeling of kindness with yourself, and ever and anon renew the needful impulse, I should soon be forsaken by them all, and find myself, what I so richly deserve, “a desolate old man.”

All your topics of communication cheer me. I truly rejoice with you in the erection of the church. It was a noble emprise, characteristic of my endeared friend, and peculiarly owned and blessed of his God; of its extent of good, eternity will alone unfold. Your account also of your dear children was read by me with much interest, and with real gratitude. How faithful is God. In the spirit of the Levite you have thrown up your inheritance among your brethren. And some of us, not sufficiently aware of the nature or extent of your faith, and but little called to tread in similar paths, were inwardly dreading some disastrous shock. But the whirlwind, the earthquake, and the fire, were only the creatures of our own imagination; while all that is real is “the still small voice” of our God, proclaiming, as is usual with him, to those who can trust him, his goodness, and his love. May the same goodness attend all the other branches of your dear family. And may you and your beloved wife be long spared to them, to the church, and the world.

I know your friendly feeling would prompt you to enquire respecting our several movements. But where shall I begin? All is and all has been well with us; and yet much has been transpiring which we little anticipated. The calls of our family have induced struggling and self-denial. My curate could not be retained. The tutor for my children, when he left for college, has not been replaced. First, his duties devolved on me; then the extra care of three pupils. Removing, too, has been attended with loss. And various other matters have all been tending toward the same point. But still I would reiterate the declaration—all is and has been well with us. To some spirits, struggling and difficulty is absolutely necessary. Like stagnant waters, they must be shaken, or they will acquire the evils consequent on inactivity.

I have for some years past been endeavouring to feel my way as to a settlement in one of our colonies; having little expectation of being able to settle my children at all advantageously in England. All I wished for was something in the shape of ministerial duty, without much regard to the emolument, but as a kind of satisfaction that I was not going out of the way of usefulness. But my inquiries were fruitless. Indeed my friends were not over anxious about my success. They mostly inclined to my remaining in England; and therefore did not, I believe, at all exert themselves. Now I begin to fancy that I am getting too old for such an experiment. Though possibly should anything desirable present itself, I should not wonder at my old feelings reviving. But I should not now be tempted, I think, with anything short of a chaplaincy; and these are so far from being come-at-able, that I consider my emigrating schemes as at an end. My views, however, with regard to my own country are still the same. I was never a national croaker; and have, I think, always been disposed to look at the bright side. Still I can anticipate nothing but rapidly increasing distress, and not very far distant ruin. And this has almost invariably been the case with great commercial nations. The influx of extraneous wealth, producing such increase of population, and such extent of luxury, and when these arrive at a certain point, other countries, other markets, successfully compete, and eventually surpass. At one of these points we are already arrived, and the retrograde impulse is beginning to be most painfully felt. All classes, indeed, are much suffering at present; and had it not pleased God to have given us a popular king and a most plenteous harvest, it is most generally believed that a revolution would ere this have taken place. Many, I know, are still dreading it. A letter which I received but a few days since from a General, a father of one of my pupils, is strongly expressive of the feelings which still prevail in the metropolis. To add to other causes of apprehension, we have just received the account of the resignation of the Wellington ministry. All is indeed perplexity. But still the Lord Omnipotent reigneth; all is in his hands. And possibly what we are dreading is only the small cloud of needless apprehension, which will either soon blow over, or only discharge itself in unexpected and undeserved mercies. But why should I allude to public events; for, with letters from your friends, you receive, no doubt, a budget of the public papers, which bring all these matters before you in all their diversified aspects and bearings.

As to my ministerial employments, I feel on the whole comfortably engaged. My sphere is but small; and my success not very apparent; and yet circumstances seem to require my continuance; nor does any moving of the cloud point out any other place. I therefore go labouring on; and should it please God to fix me eventually in some other situation, I shall find all the benefit from my past exertion; for I make a point of preparing one new sermon every week.

Mrs. G. M. unites with me in very kindest remembrance to yourself and dear Mrs. A.

And I remain, my much endeared Friend,

Yours, ever sincerely,
G. M.

TO THE REV. JOHN COOPER.

Hutton, January, 1831.

My dear Friend,