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MEMOIRS

or

SIR THOMAS POWELL BUXTON,

BART.

LONDON :

SroniswoonE and SHAW,
New-street-Square.

#

MEMOIRS

SIR THOMAS FOWELL BTJXTON,

BARONET.

WITH

SELECTIONS FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE.

EDITED BY HIS SON,

CHARLES BUXTON, ESQ.

" The longer I live, the more I am certain that the great difference between
men, between the feeble and th powerful, the great and the insignificant, ii
energy, immcible determination -a purpose once fixed, and then death or
Tictory. That quality will do any thing that can be done In thii world; and
no talenti, no eircumitancef, no opportunities, will make a two-legged creature
a man without it" (Ertract qfa Letter from Sir T. Powell Burton.)

LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.

1848.

PREFACE.

A GENERAL and very reasonable objection is made
against memoirs written by near relatives, and yet
tin- danger to be apprehended from their partiality
is not perhaps quite so great as it might seem. At
any rate it is not wholly avoided by transferring the
ta-k to a stranger. It has been well observed, that
u biographers, translators, editors, all, in short, who
employ themselves in illustrating the lives or the
writings of others, are peculiarly exposed to the
disease of admiration."* Now a near relative may
be especially liable to this infirmity ; but then he
is especially on his guard against [it. He cannot
eulogise : he must state facts, and leave the reader
to draw conclusions for himself.

The task of compiling my father's memoirs was
placed in my hands by his executors, partly because
those whose literary abilities would have pointed them
out as fitted foi the task were not at leisure to under-
take it ; and partly because it involved the perusal of a
large mass of private papers, which could not well
have been submitted to the inspection of any one not a
member of his family. I could hardly refuse so in-
teresting, though responsible, a duty.

A considerable portion of this work relates to the

Essays, vol. ii. p. 146.

A 4

1 223106

Vlll PREFACE.

emancipation of the slaves in the West Indies ; and
I cannot help feeling some anxiety lest it may give
a false prominence to my father's exertions in the
accomplishment of that event, which was, in fact,
achieved by the strenuous efforts of many men,
working in very different spheres. It was not for me
to attempt to write the history of that extensive
movement. The object set before me was to show,
as plainly as possible, what sort of person my father
was, so that the reader should feel as if he had been
one of his most intimate friends. I was bound, there-
fore, to confine my narrative to his individual pro-
ceedings, excluding whatever did not bear, directly
or indirectly, on the elucidation of his character.
Hence it has resulted that very slight notice is taken
in these pages of the exertions of my father's coad-
jutors, in achieving the downfall of British slavery.

I cannot conclude without gratefully acknowledging
the valuable contributions I have received from se-
veral of my father's friends, the advice and assistance
given by others, and the documents and papers put
into my hands by those who were in intimate com-
munication with him, before I was of an age to share
in that privilege.

March, 1848.
23. St. James's Place, London.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

17861802.

Notices of the Buxton family. Mr. Buxton of Earl's Colne.
Birth of Thomas Fowell Buxton. Childhood. School days.

His mother's influence. Abraham Plaistow. Bellfield.
Earlham. Letters from Ear lham - - Pages 1 13

CHAPTER H.

18021807.

Education in Ireland. Donnybrook. Emmett's rebellion.
Dublin University. Correspondence. Engagement to Miss
II. Gurney. Historical Society. Escape from shipwreck.
Correspondence. Success at College. Invitation to represent
the University in Parliament. His marriage - - 14 29

CHAPTER HI.
18071812.

Enters Truman's Brewery. Occupations in London. Letter
from Mr. Twiss. Correspondence. Death of Edward Buxton.

Exertions in the Brewery - - 30 41

CHAPTER IV.
18121816.

First speech in public. The Rev. Josiah Pratt. Increasing
regard to religion. Dangerous illness. Its effect on his mind.

Settles at Hampstead. Disappointments and anxieties.
Reflections. Narrow escape. Letter to Mr. J. J. Gurney

4256

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER V.

1816, 1817.

Adventure with a mad dog Distress in Spitalfields. Mr.

Buxton's speech. Letters. Establishment of the Prison Dis-
cipline Society. Death of Charles Buxton. Journey on the
Continent. Letters. Incident at the Brewery. Book on
Prison Discipline - - Pages 57 75

CHAPTER VL

1818, 1819.

Election, 1818. Letter from Mr. J. J. Gurney. Thoughts on
entering Parliament. Debate on the Peterloo riot. Burdett.
Canning. Plunkett. Brougham. Wilberforce. Letter
to Mr. Charles Buxton of Bellfield. First speech, on Criminal
Law. Committees on Criminal Law and Prison Discipline.
Letters - - - - - 7692

CHAPTER VTI.
1820, 1821.

Election. Domestic afflictions. Letters. Cromer Hall.
Priscilla Gurney. Correspondence. Speech on Criminal
Law ...... 93116

CHAPTER VIII.
18211823.

Chosen by Mr. Wilberforce as his successor in the slavery cause.

Common confusion of " Slavery " with " Slave Trade."
Previous impressions on Mr. Buxton's mind. Priscilla Gurney's
dying words. He studies the subject. Long deliberations.
Fear of servile revolt. Undertakes to advocate the question.

Letters from Mr. Wilberforce. Reflections. Suttee.
The Quakers' petition. Letter to Earl Bathurst. First
debate on Slavery. Mr. Canning's amendments. Ame-
liorations in the slave's condition recommended to the colonists.

Letter to Sir James Mackintosh - - 117 136

CONTENTS. XI

CHAPTER IX.

18231826.

Excitement in the West Indies. The Negroes refuse to work.
Severe measures. Death of Smith, a Missionary. The abo-
litionists bitterly reproached. Mr. Button's plan. Interviews
with Canning. Popular clamours. The Government draws
back. Anxieties and doubts. Letter from Mr. J. J. Gurney.

The debate. The Government gives way. Mr. Buxton
attacks them. Encouragements from Mr. Wilberforce. Mr.
Brougham's speech on Smith's case. Its effect on the country.

Mr. Wilberforce retires. The small number of abolitionists
in Parliament. Dr. Lushington. Mr. Macaulay. Mr.
Buxton's policy. Free people of colour. Treatment of Mr.
Shrewsbury. Debate. Deliberations. The London petition.

Mr. D*-n man's motion. A year's pause Pages 137 160

CHAPTER X.

18221826.

Cromer Hall. Shooting. A courteous poacher. The sporting
professor. Mr. Buxton's delight in horses. His influence
over the young. Maxims. Letter to a nephew. His love
of a manly character. His gentleness. Shipwreck of a
collier. Perilous exploit. His religious influence. Kindness
to the poor. Letter on style. Correspondence. Martin's
Act Letters on bravery, and on candour. Letter to a
rlorgyman on his new house - 161 181

CHAPTER XI.

1826, 1827.

The Mauritius Slave Trade. Mr. Byam and General Hall.

Mr. Buxton studies and undertakes the question Touching

incident. Debate. Committee of inquiry. Stormy election
at Weymouth. Letters. Laborious investigations. Frightful
nt tack of illness. Unexpected recovery - - 182 194

Xll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XII.

1827, 1828.

Meditations. Mr. Simeon. Letter to Lord W. Bentinck.
Suttee abolished. Mr. Buxton settles at Northrepps. Debate
on Slavery. Mr. Buxton's reply. The free people of colour.
Interview with Mr. Huskisson. Thoughts on his illness

Pages ;i95 207

CHAPTER XHI.

1828, 1829.

The Hottentots. Dr. Philip. Van Riebech's regrets. Miseries
of the Hottentots. Dr. Philip's researches. Mr. Buxton's
motion. The Government acquiesces. Letter from Dr. Philip.
The Order in Council sent out. Letter to Mr. J. J. Gurney.
The Hottentots set free. Alarms die away. Happy results.
The Kat River settlement - 208219

CHAPTER XIV.

1829.

Catholic Emancipation. Reflections. The Mauritius Slave
Trade. Agreeable news. The Mauritius case revived.
Letter to Mr. Twiss. The Government admit the existence of
the Slave Trade at Mauritius. Its complete extinction.
Mr. George Stephen. Mr. Jeremie - 220 231

CHAPTER XV.

1829, 1830.

Letters. Mitigation of the penal code. Illness and death of his
second son - 232241

CHAPTER XVI.

1830.

The public begins to arouse itself with regard to Slavery.
Increasing popularity of the subject. Gradual change in the
views of the leaders. Mitigating measures despaired of.
Determination to put down Slavery thoroughly and at once.
Spirited meetings in London and Edinburgh. The Government
outstripped by the abolitionists. Mr. Buxton's appeal to the
electors. The cruelty of Slavery in its mildest form 242 253

CONTENTS. Xlll

CHAPTER XVIL
1831.

Religious meditations The Duke's declaration. Change of

ministry. The Whig Government does not take up the subject
of Slavery. Quakers' petition. Decrease of the slave popu-
lation. Debate. The Government still tries to lead the
colonists to adopt mitigating measures. Parliament dissolved.

Letter from Bellfield. Letter to a son at college. Party
at the Brewery. Anecdotes. Reflections on shooting.
Death of Mr. North Correspondence - Pages 254 277

CHAPTER XVIH.

1832.

Insurrection in Jamaica. Lords' committee. Letters to Lord
Suffield. Speech at public meeting. Position of parties.
State of the colonies. Policy of the Government. Debate,
May 24. Mr. Buxton insists on dividing the House, Form-
ation of the committee. Religious persecutions in Jamaica.
Result of the committee. Letters - 278 300

CHAPTER XIX.

1833.

Government undertakes the Slavery question. Lord Howick's
resignation. Anxieties. Question of compensation. Agi-
tation in the country. Delegates - - 301 318

CHAPTER XX.

1833.

Debate, May 14. Mr. Stanley's speech. Resolutions passed.
Blame attributed to Mr. Buxton. Letters. Bill brought in.

Debate on apprenticeship. On compensation. Progress
of the Bill through the House of Commons. Through the
House of Lords. Passed. Letters - 3 1 9 338

CHAPTER XXI.

IS 33, 1834.

Letters. Good accounts from the West Indies. Baron Roths-
child. Occupations of the Spring and Summer. Endeavours
for the benefit of the Negroes. Mr. Trew. The day of
freedom, August 1. 1834. Conduct of the Negroes. Letters

339358

XIV CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXII.

1834, 1835.

Inquiry into the treatment of Aboriginal tribes in British colonies.
Address to the King on the subject. Caffre war. Abo-
rigines' committee. Letters. Lord Glenelg's despatch.
Visit from a Caffre chief. Mr. Buxton turns to the subject of
the Slave Trade of foreign nations. An address to the King
agreed to - - Pages 359373

CHAPTER XXHJ.

1835, 1836.

Accounts from West Indies. Motion for committee of inquiry.
Correspondence. Writings, January, 1836. Committee on
apprenticeship, March, 1836. Letters. Letter from Mr.

Johnston. Irish church questions Speech on Irish Tithe

Bill, June, 1836 *' - 374393

CHAPTER XXIV.
1336.

Scotland. Capercailzie. Letters. Habits of life at North-
repps. Order. Love of poetry. His domestic character.
Letters - - 394414

CHAPTER XXV.

1837, 1838.

Aborigines' report Correspondence. Election. Defeat at

Weymouth. Letters. Efforts to shorten the apprenticeship
of the Negroes. Mr. Buxton's hesitation The apprentice-
ship abolished - - 415 428

CHAPTER XXVI.

1838.

New plan for the suppression of the Slave Trade. Laborious
investigations. Collection of evidence. Letter to Lord Mel-
bourne. Communications with the Government. Abstract
of his views. Horrors of the trade. Capabilities of Africa

429440

CONTENTS. XV

CHAPTER XXVTL

1838, 1839.

Communications with Government, and with private individuals.

African Civilization Society. Preparation of " the Slave
Trade, and its Remedy" for publication. Departure for Italy

Pages 441453

CHAPTER XXVIU.

1839, 184O.

Journey through France and Italy. Mont Cenis in a snow
storm. Rome. Italian field sports. Boar hunting.
Shooting on the Numician Lake. Adventure with robbers.

The Jesuits. St. Peter's and the Vatican. Prisons and
hospitals of Rome - - - L.{ - ' "' 454^-482

CHAPTER XXIX.

1840.

Prisons at Civita Vecchia. Italian banditti. Gasparoni.
Illness. Naples. Pompeii. Prospect of a war between
Naples and England. Excitement at Naples. Mr. Buxton
returns to England - 483 513

CHAPTER XXX.

JUNE, 1840, TO APRIL, 1841.

Great public meeting in Exeter Hall. Prince Albert in the chair.

Mr. Buxton created a Baronet. Preparations for the Niger
Expedition, Agricultural Association. Ventilation of the
ships. Sir Fowell Buxton's health begins to fail. " The
friend of Africa." Public meetings. Letter to the Rev. J. W.
Cunningham. Day of Prayer for the Expedition. Prince
Albert's visit to the vessels. The Expedition sails. Letter
to Captain Trotter - 514 528

CHAPTER XXXI.

1841.

Correspondence. Journey to Scotland. Deer- stalking. Return
home. The Niger Expedition, its successes and reverses.

Good news from the Expedition. Account of its progress.

XVI CONTENTS.

Scenery of the Niger Treaty concluded with Obi. His

intelligence and courage. The Attah of Eggarah. Sickness
appears on board. The Model Farm. The Soudan and Wil-

berforce sent down the river. The news reaches England

Distress of Sir Fowell Buxton. The Albert proceeds up the
river. Dense Population. Agricultural produce in the
markets. Some slaves liberated. The Nufis. Increased
sickness on board the Albert. It returns to the sea. Perilous
descent of the river. Mortality on board. Death of Captain
Bird Allen. Opinions of the Commissioners as to the Expe-
dition - - Pages 529551

CHAPTER XXXn.

1843, 1844.

Declining health. Efforts and views regarding Africa. The
Model Farm broken up. Letter from the Bishop of Calcutta.
Country pursuits. Planting. > Characteristic anecdotes

552570

CHAPTER XXXHI.

1843, 1844, 1845.

Continued and increasing illness. Correspondence. Religious

feelings His last illness, and death. Testimonials to his

memory. Observations on his character, by the Rev. J. W.
Cunningham - '-* - 571 598

APPENDIX TO CHAP. XVH. - - - 599603

LIFE

OP

SIR THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON,

BART.

CHAPTER I.

17861802.

NOTICES OF THE BUXTON FAMILY. MR. BUXTON OF EARL'S COLNE.

IHUII1 >| THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. CHILDHOOD. SCHOOL

DATS HIS MOTHER'S INFLUENCE. ABRAHAM PLAISTOW.

BELLFIELD. K AIM. 1 1AM. LETTERS FROM EARLHAM.

THE family from which Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton
was descended, resided, about the middle of the 16th
century, at Sudbury in Suffolk, and subsequently at
Coggeshall in Essex. At the latter place, William
Buxton, his lineal ancestor, died in 1624. Thomas,
the son of William Buxton, claimed and received
from the Heralds' College, in 1634, the arms borne
by the family of the same name, settled before 1478
at Tybenham in Norfolk, and now represented by Sir
Robert Buxton, Bart.

Isaac Buxton, a merchant, and the fifth in direct de-
scent from William, married Sarah Fowell, an heiress ;
connected with the family of the Fowells, of Fowels-
coinbe in Devonshire.* From her was derived the name

* See Burke's Extinct Baronetage.
B

2 BIKTH OF THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. CHAP. I.

of Fowell, first borne by her eldest son, who married
Anna, daughter of Osgood Hanbury, Esquire, of
Holfield Grange in Essex. The first Thomas Fowell
Buxton lived at Earl's Colne in the same county, but
was residing at Castle Hedingham when his eldest
son, Thomas Fowell, the subject of this memoir, was
born, on the first of April, 1786.

Mr. Buxton was a man of a gentle and kindly
disposition, devoted to field sports, and highly popular
in his neighbourhood, where he exercised hospitality
on a liberal scale. Having been appointed High
Sheriff of the county, he availed himself of the au-
thority of his office to relieve the miseries of the
prisoners under his superintendence, visiting them
sedulously, notwithstanding the prevalence of the
jail fever. He died at Earl's Colne in 1792, leaving
his widow with three sons and two daughters.*

The eldest boy, Thomas Fowell, was at this time
six years old. He was a vigorous child, and early
showed a bold and determined character. As an
instance of this it may be mentioned, that when
quite a child, while walking with his uncle, Mr. Han-
bury, he was desired to give a message to a pig-
driver who had passed along the road. He set off
in pursuit ; and although one of his shoes was soon
lost in the mud, he pushed on through lonely and

* Anna, afterwards married to William Forster, Esq., of Bradpole
in Dorsetshire.

Thomas Fowell.

Charles, married Martha, daughter of Edmund Henning, Esq., and
died in 1817.

Sarah Maria, died in 1839.

Edward North, died in 1811.

17861802. HIS CHILDHOOD. 6

intricate lanes, tracking the driver by the footmarks
of his pigs, for nearly three miles, into the town of
Coggeshall ; nor did he stop until he had overtaken
the man, and delivered his message.

One who knew the boy well in his early days said
of him, " He never was a child ; he was a man when
in petticoats." At the age of only four years and a
half, he was sent to a school at Kingston, where he
suffered severely from ill-treatment ; and his health
giving way (chiefly from the want of sufficient food)
he was removed, shortly after his father's death, to the
school of Dr. Charles Burney, at Greenwich, where
his brothers afterwards joined him. Here he had
none of the hardships to endure, to which he had
been subjected at Kingston, and he found in Dr.
liurney a kind and judicious master. Upon one
occasion, he was accused by an usher of talking
during school time, and desired to learn the collect,
epistle, and gospel, as a punishment. When Dr.
Journey entered the school, young Buxton appealed
to him, stoutly denying the charge. The usher as
strongly asserted it ; but Dr. Burney stopped him,
saying, " I never found the boy tell a lie, and will
not disbelieve him now."

He does not appear to have made much pro-
gress in his studies, and his holidays spent at Earl's
Colne, where his mother continued to reside, left a
deeper trace in his after life, than the time spent at
school. Mrs. Buxton's character has been thus briefly
described by her son : " My mother," he says, " was a
woman of a very vigorous mind, and possessing many
of the generous virtues in a very high demvc. She

ii -

4 HIS MOTHEK'S INFLUENCE. CHAP. I.

was large-minded about every thing; disinterested
almost to an excess; careless of difficulty, labour,
danger, or expense, in the prosecution of any great
object. With these nobler qualities were united some
of the imperfections, which belong to that species of
ardent and resolute character." She belonged to the
Society of Friends. Her husband being a member of
the Church of England, their sons were baptized in
infancy ; nor did she ever exert her influence to bring
them over to her own persuasion. She was more
anxious to give them a deep regard for the Holy
Scriptures, and a lofty moral standard, than to quicken
their zeal about the distinctive differences of religious
opinion. Her system of education had in it some
striking features. There was little indulgence, but
much liberty. The boys were free to go where they
would, and do what they pleased, and her eldest son
especially was allowed to assume almost the position
of master in the house. But, on the other hand, her
authority, when exercised, was paramount over him,
as over his brothers and sisters. On being asked
by the mother of a large and ill-managed family,
whether the revolutionary principles of the day were
not making way among her boys, her reply was, " I
know nothing about revolutionary principles : my rule
is that imposed on the people of Boston, ' implicit
obedience, unconditional submission.' ' Yet the cha-
racter of her son Fowell was not without some strong
touches of wilfulness. He has described himself, in
more than one of his papers, as having been in his
boyhood " of a daring, violent, domineering temper."
When this was remarked to his mother, " Never

17861802. SCHOOL DAYS. 5

mind," she would say ; " he is self-willed now
you will see it turn out well in the end."

During one Christmas vacation, on her return
home from a brief absence, she was told that " Master
Fowell had behaved very ill, and struck his sister's
governess." She therefore determined to punish
him, by leaving him at school during the ensuing
Easter holidays. Meanwhile, however, some dis-
orderly conduct took place in the school, and two
boys, who had behaved worst in the affair, were like-
to remain there during the vacation. Mrs.
Buxton felt the dilemma in which she was placed,
and on the first day of the holidays she went to
Greenwich and fairly told Fowell her difficulty ; end-
ing by saying that, rather than subject him to the
risk of being left alone with these boys, she was
prepared to forfeit her word and allow him to come
home with her other sons. His answer was, " Mother,
never fear that I shall disgrace you or myself; my
brothers are ready, and so is my dinner!" After
such a reply the resolution of a less determined
parent must have given way; but she undauntedly
left him to his punishment.

Her aim appears to have been, to give her boys a
manly and robust character; and, both by precept
and example, she strove to render them self-denying,
and, at the same time, thoughtful for others.

Long afterwards, when actively occupied in Lon-
don, her son wrote to her: "I constantly feel,
especially in action and exertion for others, the effects
of principles early planted by you in my mind." He
particularly alluded to the abhorrence of slavery

B 3

6 ABRAHAM PLAISTOW. CHAP. I.

and the slave trade, with which she had imbued
him.

His size and strength well fitted him for country
amusements; and he early acquired a strong taste
for hunting, shooting, and fishing, under the auspices
of the gamekeeper, Abraham Plaistow. This game-
keeper was one of those characters occasionally to be
met with in the country, uniting straightforward
honest simplicity with great shrewdness and humour.
He was well-fitted to train his three young masters
in those habits of fearlessness and hardihood, which
their mother wished them to possess. His influence
over them is thus described by Mr. Buxton, in a
letter dated

" Cromer Hall, August 23. 1825.

" My father died when I was very young, and I became
at ten years old almost as much the master of the family as
I am of this family at the present moment. My mother, a
woman of great talents and great energy, perpetually incul-
cated on my brothers and sisters that they were to obey
me, and I was rather encouraged to play the little tyrant.
She treated me as an equal, conversed with me, and led me
to form and express my opinions without reserve. This
system had obvious and great disadvantages, but it was
followed by some few incidental benefits.

" Throughout life I have acted and thought for myself;
and to this kind of habitual decision I am indebted for all
the success I have met with. My * guide, philosopher, and
friend,' was Abraham Plaistow, the gamekeeper ; a man for
whom I have ever felt, and still feel, very great affection.
He was a singular character : in the first place, this tutor of
mine could neither read nor write, but his memory was
stored with various rustic knowledge. He had more of natu-
ral good sense and what is called mother- wit, than almost
any person I have met with since : a knack which he had of

17861802. BELLFIELD. 7

putting every thing into new and singular lights made him,
and still makes him, a most entertaining, and even intellectual
companion. He was the most undaunted of men : I remember
my youthful admiration of his exploits on horseback. For
:i time he hunted my uncle's hounds, and his fearlessness was
proverbial. But what made him particularly valuable were
his principles of integrity and honour. He never said or
did a thing in the absence of my mother of which she would
have disapproved. He always held up the highest standard
of integrity, and filled our youthful minds with sentiments
as pure and as generous as could be found in the writings
of Seneca or Cicero. Such was my first instructor, and, I
must add, my best ; for I think I have profited more by the
recollection of his remarks and admonition, than by the more
k'urned and elaborate discourses of all my other tutors. He
was our playfellow and tutor ; he rode with us, fished with us,
shot with us upon all occasions."*

Occasionally the holidays were passed by the
children with their grandmother, either in London
or at Bellfield, her country-house, near Weymouth.f

* This faithful servant died in 1836. " The tears," said Mr.
Hanbury, who visited him on his death-bed, " trickled down his
goodly countenance while speaking of his rides long ago with his young
master."

The following inscription on a mural tablet, in Earl's Colne church-
yard, erected by the contributions of his neighbours, speaks their sense
of his worth :

" To the memory of Abraham Flaistow, who lived for more than
half a century servant and gamekeeper, in the families of Thomas
Fowell Buxton, and Osgood Gee, E&qs.

" or humble station, yet of sterling worth;
Awaiting Hearen, but yet content on earth ;
(Jn. lint, honest, simple-hearted, kind, sincere :
Such was the man, to all our village dear !
tie liv'd in peace, in hope resign'd his breath.
Go learn a Icuon from bli life and death."

f Soon after her marriage with Mr. Buxton, they had visited this
estate together, and she incidentally remarked to him, what a beautiful
spot it would be for a country-seat. The next year, when she accom-
panied him thither again, she found, to her astonishment, instead of
mere fields and hedges, an elegant country-house, surrounded by lawns
and gardens.

B 4

8 BELLFIELD. CHAP. I.

The formality of her life in town was rather un-
palatable to them : even the exceptions to her rules
were methodically arranged; her Sunday discipline,
for example, was very strict, but on one (and only one)
Sunday in the year, she gave the children the treat
of a drive in the park ! A visit to Bellfield was more
attractive, and there young Buxton spent many of
the happiest hours of his boyhood. The house, which,
at the death of his grandmother, became his own,
is beautifully situated, commanding fine views of
Weymouth Bay and the Island of Portland. To
this spot he ever continued much attached, and his
letters from thence always mention his great enjoy-
ment of its beauties. Weymouth was at this period
the favourite resort of George III., and the King and
royal family frequently visited Mrs. Buxton. Her
grandchildren always retained a vivid impression of
the cordial kindness of their royal guests.

At the age of fifteen, after spending eight years at
Dr. Burney's, without making any great advances in
learning, he persuaded his mother to allow him to
reside at home; and there he remained for many
months, devoting the chief part of his time to sporting,
and the remainder to desultory reading. When no
active amusement presented itself, he would some-
times spend whole days in riding about the lanes, on
his old pony, with an amusing book in his hand,
while graver studies were entirely laid aside. At
the same time his friends attempted to correct
the boyish roughness of his manners by a system
of ridicule and reproof, which greatly discouraged
and annoyed him. It was indeed a critical time

1786180-2. IIAULHAM. 9

for his character; but the germ of nobler qualities
lay below ; a genial influence was alone wanting
to develop it; and, through the kindness of Provi-
dence (as he used emphatically to acknowledge),
tluit influence was at hand. Before this period he
had become acquainted with John, the eldest son of
Mr. Gurney, of Earlham Hall, near Norwich, with
whose family his own was distantly connected, and,
in the autumn of 1801, he paid his friend a visit at
his father's house.

Mr. Gurney had for several years been a widower.
His family consisted of eleven children; three elder
daughters (on the eldest of whom the charge of the
rest chiefly devolved), the son whom we have men-
tioned, a group of four girls nearer Fowell Buxton's
age, and three younger boys. He was then in his
sixteenth year, and was charmed by the lively and
kindly spirit which pervaded the whole party, while
he was surprised at finding them all, even the
younger portion of the family, zealously occupied in
self-education, and full of energy in every pursuit,
whether of amusement or of knowledge. They
received him as one of themselves, early appreciating
his masterly, though still uncultivated mind ; while
on his side, their cordial and encouraging welcome
:ied to draw out all his latent powers. He at
once joined with them in reading and study, and
from this visit may be dated a remarkable change in
the whole tone of his character : he received a
stimulus, not merely in the acquisition of knowledge,
but in the formation of studious habits and in-
(a>ts; nor could the same influence fail

10 EARLHAM. CHAP. I.

of extending to the refinement of his disposition and
manners.

Earlham itself possessed singular charms for their
young and lively party. They are described at the
time of his visit as spending the fine autumn after-
noons in sketching and reading under the old trees
in the park, or in taking excursions, some on foot,
some on horseback, into the country round ; wan-
dering homeward towards evening, with their draw-
ings and the wild flowers they had found. The
roomy old hall, also, was well fitted for the cheerful,
though simple hospitalities, which Mr. Gurney de-
lighted to exercise, especially towards the literary
society, for which Norwich was at that time dis-
tinguished.

A characteristic anecdote of Mr. Gurney has been
recorded. He was a strict preserver of his game, and
accordingly had an intense repugnance to every thing
bordering on poaching. Upon one occasion, when
walking in his park, he heard a shot fired in a neigh-
bouring wood he hurried to the spot, and his natu-
rally placid temper was considerably ruffled on seeing a
young officer with a pheasant at his feet, deliberately
reloading his gun. As the young man, however, replied
to his rather warm expressions by a polite apology,
Mr. Gurney's wrath was somewhat allayed ; but he
could not refrain from asking the intruder what he
would do, if he caught a man trespassing on his
premises. " I would ask him in to luncheon," was
the reply. The serenity of this impudence was not
to be resisted. Mr. Gurney not only invited him to
luncheon, but supplied him with dogs and a game-

17861802. LETTERS FROM EAULUAM. 11

keeper, and secured him excellent sport for the re-
mainder of the day.*

Mr. Gurney belonged to the Society of Friends;
but his family was not brought up with any strict
regard to its peculiarities. He put little restraint on
their domestic amusements ; and music and dancing
were among their favourite recreations. The third
daughter, afterwards the well-known Mrs. Fry, had
indeed united herself more closely to the Society
of Friends f ; but her example in this respect had
not as yet been followed by any of her brothers or
sisters.

Such was the family of which Fowell Buxton might
be said to have become a member, at this turning
point of his life. The following letters were written
to his mother during his visit to Earlham.

-

" My dear Mother, " Earlham, Oct. 1801.

" I was very much pleased with all your last, excepting
that jiart in which you mention the (to me at least) hateful
subject of St. Andrew's.^

" It gives me pain to write, because it will you to read,
that my aversion is, ever was, and ever will be invincible;
nevertheless, if you command, I will obey. You will ex-
claim, * How ungrateful, after all the pleasure he has had.'
I'K'u.-Hire, great pleasure, I certainly have had, but not
sufficient to counterbalance the unhappiness the pursuance of
your plan would occasion me; but, as I said before, I will
obey.

1 This anecdote, which is still fresh in the memory of several of
Mr. (Junu-y's children, was borrowed by Hook, in his tale of Gilbert
(iurney.

f See Memoirs of the Life of Elizabeth Fry. Charles Gilpin, 1 847.

| His mother had proposed to send him to the College at St.
Andrew's.

12 LETTERS FROM EARLHAM. CHAP. I.

" If 'you think fit, I shall return to Cromer on Wednesday.
Northrepps is perfectly delightful. I have dined many
times with Mr. Pym: a letter he has received from his
brother in Ireland says, ' Nothing but speculation, pecu-
lation, and paper exist in this unhappy country.' I am
going to Lord Wodehouse's this morning, and to a ball at
Mr. Kett's at night."

" My dear Mother, "Earlham, Nov. 24. 1801.

" Your letter was brought while I was deliberating whether
to stay here, or meet you in London. The contents afforded
me real joy. Before, I almost feared you would think me
encroaching ; yet Mr. Gurney is so good-tempered, his
daughters are so agreeable, and John so thoroughly de-
lightful, and his conversation so instructive, which is no
small matter with you I know, that you must not be
surprised at my accepting your offer of a few days' longer
stay in this country. Whilst I was at Northrepps, I did
little else but read books of entertainment (except now and
then a few hours Latin and Greek), ride, and play at chess.
But since I have been at Earlham, I have been very
industrious. The Prince * paid us a visit this morning, and
dines here on Thursday.

" Your affectionate son,

T. F. BUXTON."

" My visit here has completely answered," he says,
with boyish, enthusiasm, in his last letter from
Mr. Gurney's house. " I have spent two months as
happily as possible ; I have learned as much (though
in a different manner) as I should at Colne, and have
got thoroughly acquainted with the most agreeable
family in the world."

In December 1801 he returned to Earl's Colne ; but

* Prince William of Gloucester.

17661802. LETTERS FROM EARLHAM. 13

his mind never lost the impulse which it had received
during his stay at Earlham. Many years afterwards
he thus refers to this early friendship, which he places
first in an enumeration of the blessings of his life.

" I know no blessing of a temporal nature (and it
is not only temporal) for which I ought to render so
many thanks as my connexion with the Earlham
family. It has given a colour to my life. Its influence
was most positive and pregnant with good, at that
critical period between school and manhood. They
were eager for improvement I caught the infection.
I was resolved to please them, and in the College of
Dublin, at a distance from all my friends, and all con-
trol, their influence, and the desire to please them,
kept me hard at my books, and sweetened the toil
they gave. The distinctions I gained at College (little
valuable as distinctions, but valuable, because habits
of industry, perseverance, and reflection, were neces-
sary to obtain them), these boyish distinctions were
exclusively the result of the animating passion in my
mind, to carry back to them the prizes which they
prompted and enabled me to win."

14 CHAP. II.

CHAPTER II.

18021807.

EDUCATION IN IRELAND. DONNYBROOK. EMMETT's REBELLION.

DUBLIN UNIVERSITY. CORRESPONDENCE. ENGAGEMENT TO

MISS H. GURNET. HISTORICAL SOCIETY. ESCAPE FROM SHIP-
WRECK. CORRESPONDENCE. SUCCESS AT COLLEGE INVI-
TATION TO REPRESENT THE UNIVERSITY IN PARLIAMENT. HIS
MARRIAGE.

As there were reasons for expecting that her son
would inherit considerable property in Ireland,
Mrs. Buxton deemed it advisable that he should com-
plete his education at Dublin ; and, accordingly, in
the winter of 1802 he was placed in the family of
Mr. Moore of Donnybrook, who prepared pupils for
the University. It was shortly before the Christmas
holidays that he took up his abode at Donnybrook,
and he then found himself inferior to every one of his
companions in classical acquirements ; but he spent
the vacation in such close study, that on the return of
the other pupils, he stood as the first among them.

Late in life he thus recalls this period in a letter to
one of his sons, then under the roof of a private
tutor :

" You are now at that period of life, in which you must
make a turn to the right or to the left. You must now
give proofs of principle, determination, and strength of mind,
or you must sink into idleness, and acquire the habits and

18021807. DONNYBROOK. 15

character of a desultory, ineffective young man ; and if once
you fall to that point, you will find it no easy matter to rise
again.

" I am very sure that a young man may be very much
what he pleases. In my own case it was so. I left school,
where I had learnt little or nothing, at about the age of
fourteen. I spent the next year at home, learning to hunt
and shoot Then it was, that the prospect of going to
College opened upon me, and such thoughts as I have
expressed in this letter occurred to my mind. I made my
resolutions, and I acted up to them: I gave up all desultory
reading I never looked into a novel or a newspaper I
rave up shooting. During the five years I was in Ireland,
I had the liberty of going when I pleased to a capital
shooting place. I never went but twice. In short, I
considered every hour as precious, and I made every thing
bend to my determination not to be behind any of my
companions, and thus I speedily passed from one species of
character to another. I had been a boy fond of pleasure and
idleness, reading only books of unprofitable entertainment
I became speedily a youth of steady habits of application,
and irresistible resolution. I soon gained the ground I had
lost, and I found those things which were difficult and
almost impossible to my idleness, easy enough to my industry ;
and much of my happiness and all my prosperity in life have
iv.-ulted from the change I made at your age. It all rests
with yourself. If you seriously resolve to be energetic and
industrious, depend upon it you will for your whole life
have reason to rejoice that you were wise enough to form
and to act upon that determination."

From Donnybrook he writes to his mother,

" Tell my Uncle Hanbury that no two clerks in his
Brewhouse are together so industrious as I am, for I read
morning, noon, and night."

During his stay at this place, the country was
disturbed by the breaking out of the " Kihvardcn

16 EMMETT'S REBELLION. CHAP. n.

rebellion," instigated by the unfortunate Robert
Emmett. To meet the danger, volunteer corps were
hastily organised, one of which Mr. Buxton joined
as a lieutenant. The current reports of the day are
thus sketched by him in his letters to his mother :

" Every body abuses the Lord Lieutenant. He received
information from all parts of the kingdom that the rising
was to take place on Saturday night, and all the preparation
he made was to send 2500 men to take care of his house
and family at the Park. The soldiers in Dublin had no
ammunition. Colonel Littlehales, Mr. Marsden, and every
officer of the Castle, were away from their posts ; and for
two hours after the rising began, and while the rebels were
murdering Lord Kilwarden, Colonel Brown, and all the
soldiers they could catch, nothing was done by government.

" After the first alarm, however, had subsided, the soldiers
collected in small parties, and the rebels were soon put to
the rout ; before morning, 10,000 pikes were taken, all the
prisons in Dublin were filled with rebels, and from 200 to
300 are supposed to have been killed. Isaac and I watched
last night at Donnybrook, with our pistols loaded, for it was
expected that they would attack the outskirts. However,
they did not come. A great many Lucan people were
found dead in Dublin. Every noted rebel was seen going to
Dublin on Saturday evening. The gardener and workmen
say there were 500 rebels at Mr. North's gate that night.
Only two mails came into Dublin on Sunday one was
stopped at Lucan and another at Maynooth."

" Dublin, August ?. 1803.

" Dublin is in appearance perfectly quiet again, but the
minds of the people are in rebellion. Pym, who goes by the
name of Lord Sage, says this is by far a more dangerous
rebellion than the last, as it is more concealed. The plan
was for three bodies of 6000 men each to enter Dublin; one
party to take the Castle, another the barracks, the other to
spread about the city and murder every Protestant. Luckily

18021807. DUBLIN UNIVERSITY. 17

the hearts of all but about 6000 failed. The attack was to
have commenced at two in the morning, but whiskey, which
was given to keep up their spirits, made them begin their
outrage the evening before at nine. They were opposed
by seventeen yeomen, and these brave rebels, who were
ivaily to sacrifice their lives for their liberty, after four rounds
of firing, all ran away from this small body !*

" The Lord-Lieutenant is abused by every loyal person.
lYople who slept in the Castle on the night of the rising, say
it must have been lost if the rebels had come."

After remaining a year at Donnybrook, he paid
another visit to Earlham. " We are most completely
happy here," he writes to his mother ; " everything
goes on well, and you need not fear that I am losing
my time, for being with the Gurneys makes me ten
times more industrious than any thing else would."

In October, 1803, he returned to Dublin, and entered
Trinity College as a fellow commoner. At that time
there were four examinations annually in the Dublin
University making in all fourteen during the college
course of the fellow commoners. At each of these a
" Premium " was given to the successful candidate in
every division or class, if he had not already received
one in the same year, in which case a certificate, which
was equal to it in honour, was given instead.

At the end of the college course a gold medal was
also presented to those who, at each examination, had
distinguished themselves in every subject (one failure
being allowed).

Mr. Buxton at once commenced his studies with great

See Annual Register, 1803 ; and Maxwell's '' History of the Irish
Rebellion," which gives an interesting account of Emmett's conspiracy,
p. 410.

C

18 CORRESPONDENCE. CHAP. II.

vigour, and in his first examination obtained the se-
cond place. This success appears to have surpassed
his expectations, and he thus writes to his sister :
Feb. 24. 1804. " I suppose you know how the exami-
nations have ended very much indeed to my satis-
faction, and I am now reading away for the next. My
mother is in ecstasies about my being so near getting
the premium." And in a letter to his mother he tells
her, he is resolutely bent on getting it next time. He
succeeded, and this being his first triumph, he was no
little elated; and he mentions as "an exceeding addi-
tion to the pleasure " that he was the first Englishman,
as far as he could ascertain, who had gained a premium
at the Dublin University.

Before the autumnal examination, he writes to
Mr. J. J. Gurney, who was then reading with a pri-
vate tutor at Oxford :

"College, Dublin, Sept. p. 1804.

" Your suppositions about my getting a certificate are, I
am afraid, very unlikely to be realised. My antagonists are
very tremendous. In the first place, there are North and
Montgomery. I hardly know which of them I ought to
dread the most ; they are both excellent scholars, and men of
the most unwearied application : next Wybrants and Arthur,
both of whom I have had the pleasure of beating already.
So far for college business; I only wish you were here to
beat every body."

In a postscript to this very letter he mentions with
boyish glee his having gained the certificate in ques-
tion. A close friendship soon afterwards sprang up
between Mr. Buxton and Mr. John Henry North, one
of the " tremendous antagonists " to whom he refers ;
and who afterwards distinguished himself both at the
Irish Bar, and in the House of Commons.

18021807. ENGAGEMENT TO MISS GURNET. 19

Their course at college was nearly parallel, and as
they did not on this or any succeeding occasion
happen to be placed in the same division, they were
never brought into competition. This friendship,
maintained during Mr. North's life, was one of the
circumstances to which, in recollections of his college
days, Mr. Buxton always recurred with the most
lively pleasure. His mention of his friend at this
early age is interesting :

" His temper is cheerful, his taste remarkably elegant, and
adapted to receive pleasure from the beauties of nature. His
manners so captivating that you must be pleased by them ;
and his heart so good that you must love him."

Whenever Mr. Buxton could escape from Dublin,
he visited Earlham, and an attachment, which he
dated from the first day they met, gradually ripened,
between him and Hannah, fifth daughter of Mr.
Gurncy ; till in March, 1805, they were engaged to
be married.

But while in this direction a bright prospect opened
before him, in another, the clouds appeared to be
ra t hering about his path. Other claimants * had come
forward to contest his right to the Irish property;
his mother had undertaken an expensive law-suit
regarding it, and her hopes of success were already
growing dim. At the same time the family property
had bci-n materially diminished, by some unsuccessful
speculations in which she had engaged.

Her son's letters, however, (addressed for the most
part to Earlham,) bear little trace of anxiety :

Of the Yorke family.
c 2

20 COLLEGE COMPANIONS. CHAP. II

"April, 1805.

" The examinations are over, but, alas, I cannot describe
the disasters that have befallen me. Think how disagreeable
a circumstance it must be to me to have all my hopes disap-
pointed, to lose the certificate, to have my gold medal stopped,
and what is worse, to know that my Earlham visit, as it was
the cause of my idleness, was the cause of my disgrace. Think
of all this, and fetch a very, very deep sigh, and look very
grave, and then think how happy I must be to have to tell
YOU, that my utmost examinationary hopes are realised,
that I have the certificate and * Valde in Omnibus,' and, what
is better, that I can ascribe my success to nothing but my Earl-
ham visit ! I am sure that, if I had not thought that I

was partly working for you, I never should have been able to
read so much during this month. The Examiner told five of
my opponents that he was sorry he had not a Premium for
each of them. I was not * cut up ' (as the College phrase
is) during the whole Examination, and if I have been the
trumpeter of my own praise a little too much, you must re-
member that one slight word of approbation from Earlham
would be more grateful to me, than the loudest applause of
the whole world besides." He mentions in a letter dated
May 15. 1805, that he had been spending the preceding fort-
night " chiefly in reading English Poetry ; " and he adds, " I
went yesterday for the first time, to a schoolmaster who gives
lectures on reading. I have long felt my deficiency in that
most useful qualification, especially when I was last at Earl-
ham, and I then made a firm resolution to conquer it. How-
ever, it was with difficulty I could keep my determination,
for my companions have entertained themselves very much
at the idea of my going to school to learn to read. But I
expect to gain two very material advantages by this plan ; the
first is, that perhaps it may afford you pleasure, and secondly,
that, as I go immediately after dinner, it will furnish an op-
portunity for avoiding, without openly quarrelling with/ a
party of collegians, into whose society I have lately got, and
whose habits of drinking make me determine to retreat from
them."

18021807. HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 21

" College, Dublin, Sept. 2p. 1805.

" My mind has lately been very much occupied with the
consideration of the lawfulness of taking oaths, because my
College pursuits would lose a great deal of their stimulus if
I thought I should not go to the Bar, for the information
which I may acquire here would be comparatively of little use
to any one but a lawyer. To remove or strengthen my
doubts, I have been reading Paley's Philosophy, and, indeed,
lit- lias almost convinced me that taking oaths is not the
kind of swearing that is prohibited. I have endeavoured to
my mind from prejudice on one side, and interest on the
other: and I think that if I felt a bias at all, it was against
s\v taring, which arose from the fear of being actuated by my
wishes, rather than by reason."

In October, 1805, he and his friend North took
thi'ir scuts together in the " Historical Society." *
In one of his letters he speaks of the dread with
which he looked forward to " such a tremendous
thing " as addressing so large an audience. His first
speech, however, met with unexpected success. One
of his fellow collegians still remembers " its pro-
ducing quite a sensation among the under-graduates,"
and lie himself thus writes to Earlham:

* This was an association established by the students of the
University, with a view of promoting the practice of elocution and
the study of history, and was art object of great interest among them.
IV lutes were held every week during the last term of the year. After
(aril debate, every member present named the one who in his opinion
had spoken most effectively, and at the end of the year the under-
graduate who had gained the largest number of suffrages, received a
silver medal. Another medal was the prize at the annual examination
in history. No one was admitted into the society until the end of
his second year of residence at the University; and, consequently, two
medals for eloquence, and two for history, were the largest number that
any one cuuld obtain.

c 3

22 HISTORICAL SOCIETY. CHAP. II.

"November, 1805.

" I did not answer your letter before, because I wished to
state the result of my speech, which is beyond my utmost
expectations. Five persons spoke besides myself: ninety-two
members gave Returns, of which eighty-five were for me.
A law exists in the Society, that if any one should get eighty
Returns for a speech, he is to receive the " remarkable
thanks" There has never been an opportunity of putting
this law in force till now."

"Wednesday, Dec. 25. 1805.

" I made a speech last night in the Historical Society, and
contrary to my former determination, I intend to speak once
more. I am induced to do this by getting a great many
more Returns than I had any reason to expect.

" I have, I fear, very little chance of getting the premium ;
however, if I do not, I am perfectly satisfied with the result
of my studies this term. I have taken very little sleep,
amusement, or exercise lately, the consequence of which is
that I have been very unwell."

His hopes were more than realised ; not only did
he again carry off the premium, but the silver medal
of the Historical Society was awarded him, and
ultimately, he gained all the other three. At College,
indeed, nothing but good fortune attended him. His
exertions were uniformly crowned with success ; his
mind found scope for its unceasing activity ; his circle
of friends was choice, yet large ; and a zest was added
to all enjoyments, by the bright prospect afforded him
at Earlham. The gradual overcasting of his hopes
of wealth but little affected his spirits. He says in a
letter to a friend :

" I am very sorry to hear of your unhappinesses ; I wish
I could do anything to alleviate them. I think I might very
well spare happiness enough for a moderate person, and still
have enough left for myself."

J 802 1807. FOND OF FIELD SPORTS. 23

From the dissipation then too prevalent in the
University, he was happily preserved, partly by his
close and incessant occupation, partly by his Earlham
connection, and partly by his early education ; for
although his letters up to this period contain no direct
mention of religion, yet the Christian principles
which his mother had instilled into his mind retained
their influence over him ; while his natural firmness of
character enabled him to disregard the taunts to which
hi- ronduct exposed him. He found more difficulty
in sacrificing to his academical pursuits, the strong
inclination for field sports, which had been cherished
at Marl's Colne, and which accompanied him through
life-. In a letter to Earlham, dated May, 1806, he
says,

" One of the various advantages I have derived from
our connection, is the check it has been to my sporting incli-
nations. I am thoroughly convinced that, had my mind
received another bent, had my pursuits been directed towards
sporting, its charms would have been irresistible. A life
dedicated to amusement must be most unsatisfactory.
*********! think you need be under no

apprehension in regard to having too much influence over

me : as to my being member for \Veymouth, it is a totally
chimerical idea, for were I ever so willing, it is quite im-
practicable, so you may lay aside all fears of my becoming
a ifrcat ;WM."

His letters to his mother at this period are chiefly
confined to matters of business; one trait in them
is, however, too characteristic to be passed over
without notice. Nearly all of them conclude with
inquiries and directions about his horses, in which
lie always took so lively an interest, that it almost

c 4

24 ESCAPES FROM SHIPWRECK. CHAP. II.

might be called personal friendship. " I mean," he
tells his mother, " to visit Weymouth before returning
to Ireland, to see how my horses and my relations
do." He was, however, obliged to hasten his return
to Dublin, and on his way thither he had a remarkable
escape, the particulars of which he thus describes :

" In the year 1806, I was travelling with the Earlham
party in Scotland. I left them to return to the College of
Dublin. In consequence of some conversation about the
Parkgate vessels, with my present wife, then Hannah Gurney,
she extracted from me a promise that I would never go by
Parkgate. I was exceedingly impatient to be at Dublin, in
order to prepare for my examination : when I reached
Chester, the Captain of the Parkgate packet came to me, and
invited me to go with him. The wind was fair ; the vessel
was to sail in a few hours ; he was sure I should be in Dublin
early the next morning, whereas a place in the Holyhead
mail was doubtful, and at best I must lose the next day by
travelling through Wales. My promise was a bitter morti-
fication to me, but I could not dispense with it. I drank
tea, and played at cards with a very large party. About
eight or nine o'clock they all went away, on board the vessel,
and of the 119 persons who embarked as passengers, 118
were drowned before midnight."*

The account in the newspapers of the loss of the
Parkgate packet, was seen by his late travelling com-
panions, on their way into Norfolk ; and it was not
till after a day of anxious suspense that they heard
of his safe arrival in Ireland. At Lynn they re-
ceived the following letter from him :

" Have you heard of the dreadful accident which happened
to the Parkgate packet ? You will see by the newspaper the

* See Gentleman's Magazine, September, 1806.

18021807. HIS STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 25

particulars. I have been talking to-day with the only
passenger who was saved; he says that there were 119 in the
vessel, and mentioned many most melancholy circumstances.
Had I gone by Parkgate, which I probably might have done,
as we were detained some time at Chester, and expected to
be detained longer, I should have been in the vessel, but I
declared positively that I would not go. Can you guess my
reason for being so obstinate ?"

o

It was during this tour in Scotland that his at-
tention appears to have been drawn, with increased
earnestness, to the subject of religion. When at
IVrtli, he purchased a large Bible, with the resolution,
which he steadfastly kept, of perusing a portion of
it every day ; and he mentions in a letter, dated
September 10. 1806, that quite a change had been
worked in his mind with respect to reading the Holy
Scriptures. " Formerly," he says, " I read generally
rather as a duty than as a pleasure, but now I read
them with great interest, and, I may say, happiness."

" I am sure," he writes again, " that some of the
happiest hours that I spend here are while I am
reading our Bible, which is as great a favourite as
a book can be. I never before felt so assured that
the only means of being happy, is from seeking the
assistance of a superior Being, or so inclined to endea-
vour to submit myself to the direction of principle."

The college examination was now again approach-
ing, and he was not so well prepared as usual, having
given, as he feared, too much time to Optics, of which
science he speaks as " the most delightful and capti-
vating of studies." He writes to the party at Earl-
ham,

26 CORRESPONDENCE. CHAP. II.

" I do not, however, feel discouraged, but in a most happy-
quiet mind ; more determined to work, than anxious about
the result ; desirous of success, for your sakes, and able to
bear defeat, alleviated by your sympathy; but, if reading
can avail, I will be prepared."

After the examination was over, he says,

" I never had such a contest. The Examiner could not
decide in the Hall, so we were obliged to have two hours
more this morning; however, I can congratulate you once
more. * * * * I venerate Optics for what they have

done for me in this examination."

******

" I was strongly pressed to play at billiards yesterday,
which of course I refused f, and was successful enough to
persuade the person to employ his evening in another way.
He is a strong instance of their injurious effects. He told
me that when he was in town, he went regularly three times
a day to the billiard table, and that playing at 4d. a game,
on an average, cost him 10s. a day. It is the most alluring
and therefore the most destructive game that ever was
invented. I have heard it remarked, and have indeed
remarked it myself, that if any Collegian commences billiard
playing, he ceases to do any thing else. I have

been employed all this morning in reading history. I find
that this study is useful, not only in itself, but also in giving
a habit of reading everything with accuracy.
Every day brings us new accounts of disturbances in the
remote parts of the country, I am almost inclined to fear
there will be a rebellion. I have been thinking a great deal
lately of w T hat I should do in case the corps were again
established in College. There is to me no question so
dubious or perplexing, as whether resistance against danger
from an enemy is allowable : however, if I can trust my own
determination, I shall not be at all swayed by the example of

t He had given a promise at Earlham not to play at billiards while
at college.

18021807. SUCCESS AT COLLEGE. 27

others, or by the disgrace which would attend a refusal to
enlist."

A day or two later, he continues :

" I was extremely tired at the Historical Society, on
Wednesday night. I was made President, and you cannot
imagine the labour of keeping a hundred unruly and violent
men orderly and obedient. The all-engrossing subject here
at present, is the prospect of a rebellion, if I may say the
prospect when I think there is the reality. Every day we
hear of fresh murders ; and the Bishop of Elphin, who is of
the Law family, declared openly in the Castle-yard, that in
the five and twenty years he had resided here, the people in
his diocese were never in so desperate a state of rebellion.

On his return to England for a short holiday, he
says,

" London, Jan. 23. 1807.

" It is a very great pleasure to me that I can tell you
some news, which I think will delight you. In the first
place, I have arrived here, safe and sound. In the second, I
have for the twelfth time secured the Premium, and Valde
in Omnibus."

On the 1 4th of April in the same year he received
his thirteenth premium, and also the highest honour
of the University, the Gold Medal. With these
distinctions, and the four silver medals from the
Historical Society, he prepared to return to England.
At this juncture a circumstance occurred which
might have turned the whole current of his life. A
proposal was made to him by the electors to come
lor ward as candidate for the representation of the
University, and good grounds were given him to
expect a triumphant return. No higher token of
in than this oxild have been offered to one

28 HIS MAERIAGE. CHAP. II.

without wealth or Irish connection, and without the
smallest claim upon the consideration of the Univer-
sity, except what his personal and academical cha-
racter afforded. Such an offer it was not easy to
reject, and he was, as he says at the time, " extremely
agitated and pleased by it." He weighed the pleasure,
the distinction, the influence, promised by the poli-
tical career, thus unexpectedly opened before him;
and he set against these considerations, the duties
which his approaching marriage would bring upon
him. Prudence prevailed, and he declined the pro-
posal. His friend Mr. North writes to him :

" I think all hearts would have been in your favour, if
you had made your appearance and still they cannot
convince themselves that you intend to go boldly through
with your resolution * Come then, my guide, my genius,
come along ! ' You were mistaken in thinking Fortune (in
one sense) a necessary qualification for a college member;
there is an honourable exception for the Universities."

Mr. Buxton, however, had come to a deliberate
decision, and it was not to be shaken. He reached
England at. the end of April, and in the following
month his marriage took place.

In one of his papers he thus alludes to the closing
circumstances of his academical career :

" On May 13. 1807, I obtained the object of my long
attachment having refused, in consequence of the prospect
of this marriage, a most honourable token of the esteem of
the University of Dublin. The prospect was indeed flattering
to youthful ambition, to become a member of Parliament,
and my constituents men of thought and education, and
honour and principle, my companions, my competitors,
those who had known me, and observed me for years.

18021807. HIS MARRIAGE. 29

" I feel now a pride to recollect that it was from these
men I received this mark of approbation, from men, with
whom I had no family alliance, not even the natural con-
nection of compatriotism, and without high birth or splendid
fortune or numerous connections to recommend me. I
suspended my determination for one day, beset by my friends,
who were astonished at the appearance of a doubt, and
having closely considered all points, I determined to decline
tin intended honour, and from that day to this, thanks to
God, I have never lamented the determination."

30 CHAP. HI.

CHAPTER III.

18071812.

ENTERS TRUMAN'S BREWERY. OCCUPATIONS IN LONDON LETTER

FROM MR. TW1SS. CORRESPONDENCE. DEATH OF EDWARD

BDXTON. EXERTIONS IN THE BREWERY.

THE first few months of Mr. Buxton's married life
were passed at a small cottage close to his grand-
mother's seat at Bellfield, and in the neighbourhood
of his mother, who had contracted a second marriage
with Mr. Edmund Henning, and had left Essex to
reside at Wey mouth.

His expectations of wealth had been disappointed,
and he found that his fortunes must depend upon
his own exertions. After deliberate consideration,
he relinquished the idea of following the profession
of the law, and entered into negotiations in different
quarters, with a view to establishing himself in
business. For a while these were unsuccessful, and
during this time he suffered severely from the pain
of present inaction, and the obscurity that rested on
the future.

In after life, when referring to this period, he said,
" I longed for any employment that would produce
me a hundred a year, if I had to work twelve hours
a day for it." Nearly a year passed away before his
anxieties were brought to a conclusion. The winter
was spent at Earlham, where his first child was born.

18071812. ENTERS TRUMAN'S BREWERY. 31

Soon afterwards, in a letter, writing to his wife from
London, he says, " I slept at Brick Lane ; my uncles
Sampson and Osgood Hanbury were there, and re-
vived my old feelings of good nephewship, they treated
me so kindly. This morning I met Mr. Randall and
your father. I think that I shall become a Blackwell
Hall factor."

This intention was prevented by an unexpected
turn in his fortunes, resulting from his friendly
interview with his uncles. Within a few days Mr.
Sampson Hanbury of Truman's Brewery offered him
a situation in that establishment, with a prospect of
becoming a partner after three years' probation. He
joyfully acceded to the proposal, and entered with
LTcat ardour upon his new sphere of action. He
writes (July, 1808,) to his mother, " I was up this
morning at four, and do not expect to finish my
clay's work before twelve to-night my excuse for
silence. I have not neglected your business." At
tin- close of the year he succeeded Mr. Hanbury in
the occupation of a house connected with the brewery,
in which he continued to reside for several years.

During these years Mr. Buxton's correspondence
was not extensive. Among the few letters which
have been preserved is the following, addressed to his
wife, who had accompanied one of her brothers to
the Isle of Wight. Mr. Buxton had arranged to
join them there; but on arriving at Southampton, he
l'"iind that all communication with the island was
5 n tin lirted, on account of the secret expedition to
WalrhtTen, then about to sail from Cowes.

32 OCCUPATIONS IN LONDON. CHAP. in.

" Southampton, June 15. 1809.

" Now that I have finished my coffee, I think I cannot
employ my time more profitably or more pleasantly than in
sending a few lines to you. I am afraid the embargo has
been a great trouble to you. It was so to me when I first
arrived, as the idea of spending some time with your party
was particularly pleasant; however, either by the aid of
' divine philosophy,' or from finding that the misfortune was
irremediable, in a short time 1 was reconciled to my fate,
and began to consider how best to enjoy what was within my
reach. As I could not have the living companions that I
most wished for, I went to a bookseller's shop to endeavour
to find some agreeable dead ones, and having made choice of
' Tristram Shandy' and a * Patriot King,' I proceeded in
their honourable company to the water side, took a boat, and
went off to Netley Abbey. I thoroughly enjoyed this ex-
cursion. First I went all over the interior, and then walked
leisurely round it at some distance, stopping and reading at
every scene that I particularly liked. Then I went up into
the wood, to a spot which seems to have been formed for a
dining-room. While the boatman was at dinner, I went
over into the next field to a higher ground. I hope this did
not escape you. The four ivy-covered broken towers just
below, a party dining on the grass plat, the intermediate
distance of trees, and the sea behind, made it, I think, the
finest view I ever saw. I only hope you have sketched it ;
and, next to it, I should wish for a drawing of the nearest
window from the inside I mean the one that is tolerably
perfect, with a great deal of ivy over the middle pillar. I
had a pleasant row home, and have since been thinking about
your party with the greatest pleasure, and, amongst other
thoughts connected with you, it has forcibly struck me how
beneficial it is sometimes to be amongst strangers, it gives
such a taste and a relish for the society of those one loves."

Although, during his term of probation at the
brewery, he was closely occupied in making himself
master of his new vocation, he yet found time for

18071812. LETTER FROM MR. TWISS. 33

the study of English literature, and especially of
political economy. He admitted, in after-life, that
even at this early period he had indulged a distant
idrii of entering Parliament ; and, in consequence of
this, he continued to practise the art of public
speaking in a debating club of which he was a
member.

" I must tell you," he writes to Mr. North, De-
<! iiber, 1810, "of a signal reformation which has
taken place. I have become again a hard reader,
and of sterling books. In spite of your marriage
cause, I hold myself your equal in Blackstone and
in Montesquieu, and your superior in Bacon, parts
<>t' whom I have read with Mallettian avidity. I have
not been much at ' The Academics,' but it goes on
famously ; your memory is held in the highest esti-
mation even our oracle Twiss speaks well of you.
(.Irant and Bowdler are, I fear, gone from us."

His former schoolfellow, Mr. Horace Twiss, thus
ibes meeting him at this time :

" We had been at school together at the celebrated Dr.
Barney's, of Greenwich, and were very intimate.

" Buxton was then, as in after-life, extraordinarily tall,
ami was called by his playfellows * Elephant Buxton.' He
was at that time, as afterwards, like the animal he was called
from, of a kind and gentle nature; but he did not then
exhibit any symptoms of the elephantine talent he afterwards
evinced.

" I myself very often did his Latin lessons for him ; and, as
he was somewhat older and much bigger than I was, I found
him in many iv-pects a valuable ally. When I was about
twenty, I became a member of ' The Academics,' a society in
London (like the ' Historical' in Dublin, and the ' Specula-
tor' in Edinburgh), \\herc the topics of the day were de-

D

34 WILLIAM ALLEN. CHAP. III.

bated. There I heard, on my first or second evening of
attendance, a speech of great ability, from a man of great
stature ; and I should have been assured it was my old
schoolfellow I saw before me, but that I could not suppose it
possible so dull a boy could have become so clever a man.
He it was, however, and I renewed my friendly intercourse
with him, botli at the society and in private.

" Our chums were poor North, afterwards distinguished in
Parliament and at the Irish Bar, who died at between forty
and fifty ; and Henry, the younger son of the great Grattan.
We afterwards sat altogether in the House of Commons,
with some others of our fellow-academics, the two Grants
and Spring Rice. Horner had been an academic, but he
was before our time. Of late years, Buxton was chiefly
resident in Norfolk, but our mutual goodwill continued to
the last."

From childhood the duty of active benevolence had
been impressed on him by his mother, who used to
set before him the idea of taking up some great cause
by which he might promote the happiness of man.
Upon settling in London he at once sought opportu-
nities of usefulness, and in this pursuit he received
great assistance from an acquaintance which ripened
into friendship, with the Quaker philosopher and phi-
lanthropist, William Allen. This good man had long
been engaged upon objects of enlightened benevolence,
and by him Mr. Buxton was from time to time initiated
into some of those questions, to which his after-life
was devoted.

One of the most important of these had already
dawned upon him. He writes to Mrs. Buxton, Dec.
1808.

" I have one reason for wishing to remain in town, which
is, that I am going to become a member of a small society,

18071812. CORRESPONDENCE. 35

now instituting, for the purpose of calling the public inind to
the bad effects and inefficiency of capital punishments."
And at a subsequent period, he says
" From the time of my connection with the Brewery in
1808 1816, I took a part in all the charitable objects of
that distressed district, more especially those connected with
education, the Bible Society, and the deep sufferings of the
weavers."

All these labours he shared with his brother-in-law,
Mr. Samuel Hoare, of Harapstead, between whom and
himself there existed then and through life, a friend-
sin j> and close fellowship, far beyond what usually re-
sults from such a connection. With them was also
linked his own brother Charles, who was settled in
London, and was the favourite companion of both.

Although Mr. Buxton was a member of the Esta-
blished Church, circumstances had cherished in him a
strong attachment to the Society of Friends, and to
tlu -ir silent mode of worship. He frequently spent
the Sunday under the roof of Mr. and Mrs. Fry, at
I'lashet in Essex; and even when at home, from the
time of his marriage up to the year 1811, he generally
attended a Friends' Meeting. In a letter written
on Sunday Oct. 22d, 1809, he mentions that he had
been reading the fifth chapter of St. Matthew, " as a
subject for reflection at Meeting," and adds,

" I think I almost always have a good meeting when I
read before it, without any intermediate occupation of mind.
It was a irivat pleasure to me to be able to engage myself so
thoroughly when there, as I had begun to think that I was
rather going back in that respect. The verse that principally
led me on to a train of thought was that * Except your
righteousness exceed the righteousness of the scribes and
ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of
v 2

36 CORRESPONDENCE. CHAP. III.

heaven.' This text is always very striking to me. It is so
serious a thing to be only on a par with the generality of
those you see around you. This evening I have been thinking
what I can do for the poor this winter. I feel that I have as
yet done far short of what I ought and what I wish to do."

"Sept. 23. 1810.

" I have passed a very quiet and industrious week, up
early, breakfast at 8 o' clock, dinner near six, and the
evenings to myself, which have been well employed over my
favourite Blackstone. I read him till near ten last night,
and then Jeremy Taylor till past eleven, and could hardly
give him up, he was so very entertaining a companion.
******** -j^is morn i n g I went to Grace-
church Street meeting. I was rather late, which made me
feel hurried, and prevented my having sufficient time to my-
self before meeting ; however, I had made a little use of my
friend Jeremy at breakfast, and this and last night's read-
ings gave me occupation for my thoughts. I saw William
Allen, who wants me to call upon him to-morrow, as he says
he has found a place for the school as suitable as if we were
to build one. This, I know, will please you, but will alarm
you also, lest we should forget the girls.

" And now you will expect to hear something about my
return. I must tell you that you cannot be in a greater
hurry for me to come to Earlham than I am to get there ;
for I do not think I have lately enjoyed any thing so much
as the time I spent in that dear circle, and I hold it to be
quite a treasure and a blessing to have such brothers and
sisters ; I hope and believe, too, that it may be as useful as it
is agreeable. Still I do not feel altogether confident that the
stimulus which they have given me will be of any duration ;
for it is not inducements to do our duty that we want these
we have already in abundance. They are, indeed, so many
and so various, that, if we were only as prudent and as
rational with regard to our future state, as we are to our
present, none would utterly want religion, but those who
utterly wanted sense."

18071812. DEATH OF EDWARD BUXTON. 37

It has been mentioned that Mr. Buxton was the
rld'-st of three sons. Edward North, the third bro-
tluT, a wayward lad, had been sent to sea as a mid-
shipman in an East Indiaman, commanded by his re-
lative Captain Dumbleton ; but in his first voyage he
left his ship and entered the king's service. From
that time his family had received no tidings of him,
and by degrees they became impressed with the painful
conviction that he had died at sea. The suspense
of five years was at last brought to an end, by the
arrival of a letter to Mr. Buxton from one of his
brother's shipmates, announcing that he had arrived in
a dying state at Gosport, and was earnestly desirous
to see some of his relations. He had been attacked by
dysentery while on board ship at Bombay ; and, feel-
ing that his days were numbered, he became intensely
anxious to reach home once more. He hastened to
England in the first ship by which he could obtain a
passage ; and on his arrival at Gosport, was carried to
Haslar Hospital, whence he despatched a letter to his
mother. This letter was unfortunately delayed, in
consequence of its having been directed to the house
at Earl's Colne, which had been parted with some
\vars before, and the unhappy youth he was only
nineteen in the morbid state of his feelings, became
so strongly impressed by a sense of his neglect in
never having communicated with his friends, that he
felt persuaded they would now refuse to acknowledge
him. A second letter, in which he besought that some
one of the family would consent to visit him on his
drath-l.rd. reached Mr. Buxton, and in two hours he
and his brother Charles were on the road to Gosport,

38 DEATH OF EDWARD BUXTON. CHAP. III.

which they reached on the following morning. With
mingled emotions of hope and fear they set out for the
Hospital. Having been directed to a large ward full
of the sick and dying, they walked through the room
without being able to discover the object of their
search ; till at length, they were struck by the
earnestness with which an emaciated youth upon one
of the sick beds was gazing at them. On their ap-
proaching his bedside, although he could scarcely
articulate a word, his face was lit up with an expres-
sion of delight that sufficiently showed that he recog-
nised them : but it was not for some moments that
they could trace in his haggard features the lineaments
of their long-lost brother.

A few days afterwards Mr. Buxton writes

"Gosport, August 10. 1811.

" It is pleasant to be with Edward, he seems so happy in
the idea of having his friends about him. This morning I
thought him strong enough to hear part of a chapter in St.
Luke on prayer, and the 20th Psalm. Charles then went
away, and I mentioned to him how applicable some of the
passages were to his state ; he said, he felt them so, and that
he had been very unfortunate in having been on board ship
where religion is so neglected ; that he had procured a Bible,
and one of his friends had sometimes read to him, but not so
often as he wished. That he had hoped and prayed that he
might reach England, more that he might confess his sins to
me than for any other reason; that, supposing at length
that there was next to no chance of this, he had dictated a
letter to me upon the subject, which is now in his box.
When I told him, that as his illness had brought him into
such a frame of mind, it was impossible for me to regret it,
let the event be what it would, he said he considered it as a
mercy now, but that nobody could tell what his sufferings

18071812. DEATH OF EDWARD BUXTON. 39

h;ul been. I then entered into a kind of short history of what
I considered to be inculcated in the Testament * that Christ
came to call sinners to repentance.' He felt consolation
from this ; but again said, that he had been indeed a sinner.
I then told him that I hoped he did not ever omit to pray
tin- assistance, and I added that Charles and I had joined in
prayer for him last night. He seemed so much affected by
this, that I did not think it right to press the conversation
i art her. Does not all this furnish a striking proof how our
sorrows may be converted into joys ? I can look upon his
illness in no other light than as a most merciful dispensation.
It is most aflfectingly delightful to see his lowliness of mind,
ami his gratitude to all of us. I cannot help thinking that
his mind is more changed than his body."

The young midshipman survived about a fortnight
after his brothers reached him. He had the comfort,
so earnestly desired, of being nursed by his mother,
and of seeing once more his whole family. His sister
Sarah, in describing the solemn, and yet peaceful,
meeting round the death -bed of the returned wanderer,
thus mentions her eldest brother : " Fowell, the
head of our family, is a strong support ; and when
religious consolation was so much wanted, he seemed
most ready to afford it. The power of his influence
we deeply felt : it was by far the most striking feature
in the past remarkable month."

Kdward North Buxton died on the 26th of August,
1811, and was buried in the cemetery of Haslar
hospital.

In 1811, Mr. Buxton was admitted as a partner
in the Brewery ; and during the ensuing seven years,
he was almost exclusively devoted to his business.
Soon after his admission, his senior partners, struck
by his energy and force of mind, placed in his hunds

i. 4

40 EXERTIONS IN THE BREWERY. CHAP. III.

the difficult and responsible task of remodelling their
whole system of management. It would be super-
fluous to enter into the details of his proceedings,
though, perhaps, he never displayed greater vigour
and firmness than in carrying through this under-
taking. For two or three years he was occupied
from morning till night, in prosecuting, step by step,
his plans of reform : a single example may indicate
with what spirit he grappled with the difficulties
that beset him on all sides.

One of the principal clerks was an honest man,
and a valuable servant ; but he was wedded to the
old system, and viewed with great antipathy the
new partner's proposed innovations. At length, on
one occasion, he went so far as to thwart Mr. Buxton's
plans. The latter took no notice of this at the time,
except desiring him to attend in the counting-house
at 6 o' clock the next morning. Mr. Buxton met
him there at the appointed hour ; and, without any
expostulation, or a single angry word, desired him to
produce his books, as he meant for the future to
undertake the charge of them himself, in addition to
his other duties. Amazed at this unexpected de-
cision, the clerk yielded entirely ; he promised com-
plete submission for the future ; he made his wife
intercede for him ; and Mr. Buxton, who valued his
character and services, was at length induced to
restore him to his place. They afterwards became
very good friends, and the salutary effect of the
changes introduced by Mr. Buxton was at length
admitted by his leading opponent ; nor, except in one
instance, did he ever contend against them again.

18071812. EXERTIONS IN THE BREWERY. 41

On that occasion, Mr. Buxton merely sent him a mes-
sage " that he had better meet him in the counting-
house, at 6 o'clock the next morning." The book-
keeper's opposition was heard of no more.

The success which crowned Mr. Buxton's exertions
in business materially paved his way to public life.
He was gradually relieved from the necessity of at-
tending, in person, to the details of its management,
but continued to take a part in the general super-
intendence of the concern.

42 CHAP. IV.

CHAPTER IV.

18121816.

FIRST SPEECH IN PUBLIC. THE REV. JOSIAII PRATT.

INCREASING REGARD TO RELIGION. DANGEROUS ILLNESS.
ITS EFFECT ON HIS MIND. SETTLES AT HAMPSTEAD. DIS-
APPOINTMENTS AND ANXIETIES. REFLECTIONS. NARROW

ESCAPE. LETTER TO MR. J. J. GURNET.

MR.BUXTON was, of course, closely bound to his London
avocations ; but almost every Autumn he spent some
weeks at Earlham, enjoying the recreation of shooting,
in company with Mr. Samuel Hoare. It was during
one of these visits, that he first addressed a public
meeting. His brother-in-law, Mr. Joseph John
Gurney, in September, 1812, insisted that for once
he should leave his sport, and give his aid in the
second meeting of the Norwich Auxiliary Bible
Society, at which Mr. Coke and other county gentle-
men were present.

His speech on that occasion is thus alluded to by
Mr. J. J. Gurney. *

" There are many who can still remember the remarkable
effect produced, in one of the earliest public meetings of the
Norfolk and Norwich Auxiliary Bible Society, more than
thirty years ago, by one of his speeches, distinguished for
its acuteness and good sense, as well as for the Christian

* " Brief Memoir." Fletcher, 1845.

1812 181G. THE REV. JOSIAII PRATT. 43

temper in which it was delivered. His commanding person*,
hia benevolent and highly intellectual expression of counte-
nance, his full-toned voice, together with his manly yet
]>l:iyful eloquence, electrified the assembly, and many were
those on that day who rejoiced that so noble and just a cause
had obtained so strenuous and able an advocate."

Some indications have been already given of the
increasing power of religious principle in Mr. Buxton's
mind ; but he had not yet been fully brought under
its influence, nor had he acquired clear views as to
some of the fundamental truths of Christianity. In
1811, he was induced by the advice of his friend the
Rev. Robert Hankinson, to attend the ministry of the
Rev. Josiah Pratt, in Wheeler Chapel, Spitalfields :
and to the preaching of that excellent clergyman he
attributed, with the liveliest gratitude, his first real
acquaintance with the doctrines of Christianity. He
himself says "It was much and of vast moment that
I there learned from Mr. Pratt." He wrote to Mr.
Pratt thirty years afterwards, " Whatever I have
done in my life for Africa, the seeds of it were sown
in my heart, in Wheeler Street Chapel."

His mind, ever disposed (in Bacon's words) to
" prefer things of substance, before things of show "
with a strong love for truth, and susceptible of deep
fed ing afforded, perhaps, a fit soil for the recep-
tion of those truths, which at length struck deep root
there. On the other hand, he regarded his tendency
to become wholly absorbed in the work before him as

* Mr. Huxton was upwards of six feet four inches in height ; but
liis j.uwirful frame and broad chest rendered his height less ap-
parent.

44 INCREASING REGARD TO RELIGION. CHAP. IV.

a great bar to his progress in higher things. Thus
he writes to one of his relatives at Earlhara :

"Hampstead, March 21. 1812.

" I had determined, before I received your last letter, to

thank you, dear C , myself, for much pleasure, and I

think a little profit (much less than it ought to have been),
in observing the progress of your mind. It does indeed give
me real joy to see you and others of your family striving in
your race with such full purpose of heart ; and the further I
feel left behind the more I feel engaged in other pursuits
so much the more I admire and love the excellence, which
I hardly endeavour to reach : and so much the more I perceive
the infinite superiority of your objects over mine.

" When I contrast your pursuits with my pursuits, and
your life with my life, I always feel the comparison a
wholesome and a humiliating lesson, and it makes me see the
ends for which I labour in their proper light ; and my heart
is ready to confess, that ' Thou hast chosen the good part,
which shall not be taken from thee.' How is it then, with
this contrast constantly staring me in the face whenever I
think seriously, that it has no effect, or next to none, on my
practice ? I see the excellence of the walk you have chosen,
and the madness of dedicating myself to any thing, but to
the preparation of that journey which I must so shortly take.
I know, that if success shall crown all my projects, I shall
gain that which will never satisfy me, ' that which is not
bread.' I know the poverty of our most darling schemes
the meanness of our most delicious prospects the tran-
sitoriness of our most durable possessions when weighed
against that fulness of joy and eternity of bliss which are
the reward of those who seek them aright. All this I see
with the utmost certainty that two and two make four is
not clearer ; and how is it, then, that with these speculative
opinions, my practical ones are so entirely different ? I am
irritable about trifles, eager after pleasures, and anxious about
business : various objects of this kind engross my attention
at all times ; they pursue me even to Meeting and to Church,

18121816. DANGEROUS ILLNESS. 45

and seem to grudge the few moments which are devoted to
lii^licr considerations, and strive to bring back to the temple
of the Lord the sellers, and the buyers, and the money-
el laugers. My reason tells me, that these things are utterly
indifferent ; but my practice says, that they only are worthy
of thought and attention. My practice says, * Thou art
increased with goods, and hast need of nothing;' but my
reason teaches me, * Thou art wretched and miserable, and
poor, and blind, and naked.'

"I have in this letter divulged the train of thinking

which is constantly recurring to my mind If I have

said too much in any part of this letter, I am sure I do not
go beyond the truth in saying, that hardly any thing comes
so near my heart, as my love for my sweet sisters."

The period had now arrived, from which may be
dated that ascendancy of religion over his mind
which gave shape and colouring to the whole of his
alter life.

In the commencement of the year 1813, he was
visited by an illness which brought him to the brink
of the grave. How momentous an era he felt this to
have been, we may learn from the following paper,
written after his recovery :

"Feb. 7. 1813.

" After so severe an illness as that with which I have
lati-ly been visited, it may be advantageous to record the
most material circumstances attendant upon it. May my
bodily weakness, and the suddenness with which it came,
n mind me of the uncertainty of life ; and may the great and
immediate mercy, bestowed upon me spiritually, be a con-
tinual memorial, that 'the Lord is full of compassion, and
long suffering,' and ' a very present help in trouble ! '

" I was seized with a bilious fever, in January. When I
fir>t felt myself unwell, I prayed that I might have a dan-
gerous illness, provided that illness might bring me nearer to

46 DANGEROUS ILLNESS. CHAP. IV.

my God. I gradually grew worse ; and when the disorder
had assumed an appearance very alarming to those about me,
I spent nearly an hour in most fervent prayer. I have been,
for some years, perplexed with doubts ; I do not know if
they did not arise more from the fear of doubting, than from
any other cause. The object of my prayer was, that this
perplexity might be removed ; and the next day, when I set
about examining my mind, I found that it was entirely
removed, and that it was replaced by a degree of certain
conviction, totally different from any thing I had before
experienced. It would be difficult to express the satisfaction
and joy which I derived from this alteration. ' Now know
I that my Redeemer liveth ' was the sentiment uppermost in
my mind, and in the merits of that Redeemer I felt a confi-
dence that made me look on the prospect of death with per-
fect indifference. No one action of my life presented itself
with any sort of consolation. I knew that by myself I stood
justly condemned ; but I felt released from the penalties of
sin, by the blood of our sacrifice. In Him was all my trust.
" My dear wife gave me great pleasure by repeating this
text * This is a faithful saying and worthy of all accepta-
tion, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.'
Once or twice only I felt some doubt whether I did not
deceive myself, arguing in this manner : * How is it, that I,
who have passed so unguarded a life, and who have to lament
so many sins, and especially so much carelessness in religion
how is it that I feel at once satisfied and secure in the
acceptance of my Saviour ? ' But I soon was led to better
thoughts. Canst thou pretend to limit the mercies of the Most
High ? * His thoughts are not as our thoughts, nor his
ways as our ways.' He giveth to the labourer of an hour
as much as to him who has borne the heat of the day. These
were my reflections, and they made me easy."

When the medical gentleman who attended him,
observed that he must be in low spirits, " Very far from
it," he replied : " I feel a joyfulness at heart which
would enable me to go through any pain." " From faith

18121816. ITS EFFECT ON HIS MIND. 47

in Christ ?" he was asked. " Yes, from faith in Christ "
was his reply ; and, mentioning the clear view he now
had of Christ being his Redeemer, he said, " It is an
inexpressible favour, beyond my deserts. What have
I done all my life long ? Nothing, nothing, that did
God service, and for me to have such mercy shown !
My hope," he added, " is to be received as one of
Christ's flock, to enter heaven as a little child." And a
day or two afterwards he said, " I shall never again
pass negligently over that passage in the Prayer Book,
1 We bless thee ... for thine inestimable love in the
redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ ; ' '
and he broke forth into thanksgiving for the mercy,
the unbounded, the unmerited love," displayed
towards him, in having the Christian doctrine brought
home to his heart. Again and again he declared
how glad and thankful he was for his illness, and, at
the same time, how anxious he felt lest the impression
it had made upon him should become effaced.
After his recovery he thus writes to Earlham.

" Perhaps you might think that your letters were not suf-
ficiently valued by me if they remained unnoticed; they
were both truly welcome, especially where they described
your feelings, at the prospect of the termination (I earnestly
hope only the earthly termination) of our long and faithful
union. My wife tells me that she said in her letter, that I
mentioned you all in my illness. This was but a languid
description of the extent and force of love I felt towards you,
:ui<l of gratitude to you to whom I owe so great a por-
tion of all that haa been pleasant to me in my past life, and
jxjrhaps much of that which was consolatory to me at that awful

but happy period. C calls it a chastisement, but I never

felt it as such. I looked upon it when I was at the worst (and
have not yet ceased to do so) as a gift, and a blessing, and

48 BIBLE SOCIETY. CHAP. IV.

the choicest of my possessions. When I was too weak to
move or speak, my mind and heart were at full work on these
meditations, and my only lamentation was, that I could not
feel sufficiently glad or grateful for the mercy, as unbounded
as unmerited, which I experienced. This mercy, was to know
the sins of my past life, that the best actions of it were but
dust and ashes, and good for nothing ; that, by the righteous
doom of the law, I stood convicted and condemned ; but that
full and sufficient satisfaction had already been made by Him
who came to save sinners ; and such was the ease and confi-
dence with which this conviction inspired me, that death was
not attended with a terror."

Fifteen years afterwards*, he thus refers to the
impressions made upon his mind during this illness.
" It was then," he says, " that some clouds in my
mind were dispersed: and from that day to this,
whatever reason I may have had to distrust my own
salvation, I have never been harassed by a doubt
respecting our revealed religion." As his health
and strength returned he engaged, with increased ear-
nestness in supporting various benevolent societies,
especially the Bible Society ; and his common-place
books during the years 1813 1816 are chiefly
filled with memoranda on this subject. He came
prominently forward in the controversy between the
supporters of the Bible Society and those who united
with Dr. Marsh f in opposing it.

These occupations filled up the short intervals of
leisure afforded by his close attention to business ;
and while he continued to reside at the Brewery, few
events occurred to vary his life. Some glimpses into

* Cromer, 1828. f Afterwards Bishop of Peterborough.

18121816. REFLECTIONS ON CHRISTMAS-DAY. 4.9

the state of his mind are given in the following
letters.

" Spitalfields, Dec. 25. 1813.

" I have often observed the advantage

of having some fixed settling time, in pecuniary affairs.
It gives an opportunity of ascertaining the balance of losses
and gains, and of seeing where we have succeeded and
whore failed, and what errors or neglects have caused the
failure.

" Now, I thought, why not balance the mind in the same
way observe our progress and trace to their source our
mi-takes and oversights ? And what better time for this than
Cliri.-tina<-da,y followed by Sunday? And what better em-
ployment of those days? So it was fixed ; and consequently
I refused invitation after invitation to Upton, Doughty
Street, Plashet, Hampstead, Coggeshall, and Clifton. And
now for a history of my day. After breakfast, I read,
ntti-ntin-li/, the 1st of St. Peter, with some degree of that
spirit with which I always wish to study the Scriptures.
To me, at least, the Scriptures are nothing without prayer ;
ami it is sometimes surprising to me, what beauties they
unfold, how much even of worldly wisdom they contain, and
how they are stamped with the clear impression of truth,
when read under any portion of this influence; and without
it ho\v unmoving they appear.

" I also read Cooper's first Practical Sermon, the text
* What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world,
and lose his own soul?'

" This is a subject which, of all others of the kind, most

frequently engages my thoughts. Well, I went to church :

\v- had one of Mr. Pratt's best sermons, and I stayed the

Communion. I could not but feel grateful to see so many

persons, who at least had some serious thoughts of religion

Socially that Charles and his wife were of the number,

and I may add, that I was also. I am not so ignorant of

myself as to think that I have made any suitable advances.

V . KUTV day's experience is a sufficient antidote against

E

50 STATE OF HIS MIND. CHAP. IV.

any such flattering delusion ; for every day, I see, and have
reason to condemn the folly, the insanity which immerses me
the whole of my mind and powers in so trifling a portion
of their interest as this world contains. But yet I feel it an
inestimable blessing to have been conducted to the precincts
and the threshold of truth, and to have some desires, vague
and ineffectual as they are, after better things.

" In the evening I sat down, in a business-like manner, to
my mental account. In casting up the incidental blessings
of the year, I found none to compare with my illness: it
gave such a life, such a reality and nearness, to my prospects
of futurity; it told me, in language so conclusive and
intelligible, that here is not my abiding city. It expounded
so powerfully the scriptural doctrine of Atonement, by
showing what the award of my fate must be, if it depended
upon my own merits, and what that love is which offers
to avert condemnation by the merits of another : in short,
my sickness has been a source of happiness to me in every
way."

In the autumn of the following year he again
alludes to that " one religious subject which most
frequently engaged his thoughts." After speaking
of the death of a near relative as " a loss hardly
admitting of consolation," he adds,

" But it is surely from the shortness of our vision, that we
dwell so frequently on the loss of those who are dear to us.
Are they gone to a better home ? Shall we follow them ?
These are questions of millions and millions of centuries.
The former is but a question of a few years. When I
converse with these considerations, I cannot express what I
think of the stupendous folly of myself and the rest of
mankind. If the case could be so transposed, that our
worldly businesses and pleasures were to last for ever, and
our religion were to produce effects only for a few years,
then indeed, our, at least my, dedication of heart to present
concerns would be reasonable and prudent; then I might

1812 1816. SETTLES AT HAMPSTEAD. 51

justify the many hours and anxious thoughts devoted to the
former, and might say to the latter, ' The few interrupted
moments and wandering unfixed thoughts I spare you, are
as much as your transitory nature deserves * * *

***** Alas ! alas ! how is it that as children
of this world, we are wiser than as children of light ! "

In the summer of the year 1815, he removed from
London to a house a* North-End, Hampstead, that his
children, now four in number, might have the benefit
of country air. The following extract is from his
common-place book :

" North End, Sunday, Aug. 6. 1815.

" I have spent the morning (with occasional wanderings in
the fields), in reading and pondering upon the Bible; viz.
St. .James's and St. John's epistles. How much sound
wi s< lorn and practical piety in the first, how devout and
holy a spirit breathes through the second : the one exposing,
with a master's hand, the infirmities, the temptations, and the
delusions of man ; the other, evidencing the love he teaches,
seems of too celestial a spirit to mingle much with human
attain*, and perpetually reverts to the source of his consola-
tion and hope : with him, Christ is all in all, the sum and sub-
stance of all liis exhortations, the beginning and end of every
chapter.

" I now sit down to recall some marked events, which
have lately happened. First then, Friday, July 7th, was an
extraordinary day to me. In the morning, I ascertained
that all the hopes we had indulged of large profits in business
were false. We were sadly disappointed, for I went to town
in the morning some thousands of pounds richer in my own
estimation than I returned at night. This was my first trial :
next, about 9 o'clock, a dreadful explosion of gunpowder took
place in a house adjacent to the brewery ; eight lives were lost,
and trixat damage done. For a long time it seemed beyond
hope to expect to keep the fire from the premises. ' The

B 2

52 DISAPPOINTMENTS AND ANXIETIES. CHAP. IV.

morning changed me from affluence to competence, and the
evening was likely to have converted competence into
poverty.

" To finish all at night, my house was robbed. This, if we
had heard it, might have seriously alarmed my wife. How
easily can I bear the transitions of fortune, and see without
murmuring, and even with cheerfulness, my golden hopes
blighted ; but * bitter indeed, and intimately keen ' would any
wound be, that affected her. I have often repeated these
lines of Shakspeare :

" ( Steep me in poverty to the very lips,

Give to captivity me, and my utmost hopes,

I still can find in some part of my soul

A drop of patience

But there, where I have garnered up my heart,' " &c.

" On the following Tuesday I went to Wey mouth, and found
affairs in which I am sincerely interested, in a very bad state.
This is to me a subject of much anxiety ; but on my return
home I had another and a deeper trial. I found that it was
necessary to investigate 's business, which seems invol-
ved in much difficulty. These two events together have been
very mortifying to me, but I have endeavoured to meet them
with submissive fortitude. Yet I find that I can suffer my
own misfortunes with comparative indifference, but cannot sit so
easily under the misfortunes of those that are near to me ; but
in this I hope to improve, and to be enabled to look upon trials
in whatever form they appear, as visitations from the merciful
hand of God. I hope my late uneasinesses have not been
entirely thrown away upon me. They have brought me to
feel the poverty and unstead fastness of all human possessions,
and to look upon life as a flower that falleth, while the grace
and the fashion of it perisheth as a vapour that appeareth for
a little time, and then vanisheth away. It has made me too
(tho' still sadly deficient) more earnest and more frequent in
my appeals and entreaties to God, that he would give me his
wisdom to direct me and his strength to support me ; and above
all, that he would emancipate my heart from the shackles of

18121816. . REFLECTIONS. 53

the flesh, and fix my hopes beyond all that is in the world,
* the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of
life.'

" Another event has occurred, which has suggested many

reflections I mean 's death. His father acquired

enormous wealth ; the son became a very highly distinguished
political diameter, and occupied great space in popular
opinion. They are both gone, and all their successes in trade
and ambition would be to them now more than outweighed by
the smallest act of piety, and real consecration of the heart to
the service of God. What a lesson to my darling projects ! I
may possibly, only possibly, by the greatest exertions, equal
the first in business, and the other as a statesman and what
then ? Suppose me in possession of the fulness of my
hopes must I be happy ? Their example says no ! They
were not happy. The father died, it is said, of vexation, and
the son perished by his own hand. But, happy or not happy,
death must come at last, and will wipe away these trifles, and
leave me to receive my doom, not according to the fame, or
the wealth I have acquired, but according to the deeds I have
done, whether they be good or evil."

"Sunday, Oct. 29- 1815.

" I do not know when I have had so many things of some
importance to manage, or when I have spent my time in
business more to my satisfaction. My mind and heart have
been in.-tantly engaged in it, and I have thought as little of
shout inir, since I returned to business, as I did of business,
while I was shooting. I know you would not like the un-
settlement of the plan I have in my head ; which is, after a
few years, to live somewhere quiet in the country, and go to
town for one week in a month. I think that with strict,
unsparing rules, this is all that would be necessary : the un-
scttlement would be no objection to me, for I do not find
that change from one employment to another quite different,
produces it; and I fancy that I could brew one hour,
study mathematics the next, shoot the third, and read
poetry the fourth, without allowing any one of these pursuits

i: 3

54 REFLECTIONS. CHAP. IV.

to interfere with the others. This habit of full engagement
of the mind, has its advantages in business and other things,
but is attended with this serious disadvantage, that it im-
merses the mind so fully in its immediate object, that there
is no room for thoughts of higher importance, and more real
moment, to creep in. I feel this continually, the hours
and hours that I spend in utter forgetfulness of that which
I well know to be the only thing of importance! How
very great a portion of one's life there is, in which one might
as well be a heathen ! "

Writing to his wife on the first of November in
this year, he says,

" I went this evening to a general meeting of the adult
school. I was very much interested by it, and made a
speech, which was received with shouts, nay, roars of ap-
plause! The good that has already been done, is quite
extraordinary : exclusive of one hundred and fifty persons
who have improved in reading, eighty-nine, who did not
know their letters, can now read well. We had five ex-
hibited, and their performance was grand ; but the effect
upon their lives, is still better than on their literature. Then
we had a variety of fine speeches. I do not much admire
meetings of ladies and gentlemen, but the tradesmen speak-
ing to the mechanics, is a treat to me ; first, it is so enter-
taining to hear them, such sublimity, such grandeur, such
superfine images ; one fine fellow harvested a rich crop of
corn off a majestic oak, and the simile was received with a
burst of applause. But if this is entertaining, the zeal and
warmth with which they speak and act, is very interesting ;
and I really prefer their blundering heartiness, to the cool
and chaste performances of more erudite orators."

Writing in February, 1816, after lamenting the
slow progress he had made of late in religion, he
adds,

" But there is one respect in which I feel different. I see

18121816. NARROW ESCAPE. 55

the hand of a directing Providence in the events of life, the
lesser o well as the greater ; and this is of great importance
t< me, for the belief that your actions, if attempted aright,
are guided and directed by superior wisdom, is to me, one of
the greatest inducements to prayer ; and I do think that the
little trials I have met with, have materially contributed to
produce with me a habit of prayer."

This strong reliance on the presiding care of God,
grew with him year by year, as his experience
widened, and he loved to count up the instances in
which (as he firmly believed) he had seen the ways
of himself and others directed by the hands of Provi-
dence to its own great ends. An unfinished paper
(It-tailing various providential escapes he had met
with, refers, after alluding to many earlier ones, to
one that occurred in the winter of 1815.

" Mr. Back and I," he says, " went into the brewery to
survey the repairs which were going on ; we were standing
upon a plank, with only room for two, face to face; we
changed places in order that I might survey a spot, to which
lie was directing my attention; his hat was on, I was un-
covered ; as soon as we had changed places, several bricks fell
from the roof, and one struck his head ; his hat in some
measure averted the blow, but he never recovered the injury,
and died shortly afterwards of an oppression on the brain."

To Joseph John Gurney, Esq. at Earlham.

" Hampstead, April 12. 1816.

" It is very true that I have been worried of late, but not
about the Malt Tax, for that is only a question of profit, one
that I could not regulate, and I find no disposition in my
mind to regret what is irremediable. The thing which has
given me uneasiness, is the discovery of what I consider
errors in the management of the department of the brewery
which has fallen to me lately ; and these errors I am de-

B 4

56 LETTER TO ME. GUENEY. CHAP. IV.

terinined to cure. Now this involves much labour but
labour I do not regard and some anxiety, considering my in-
experience upon many points connected with it ; but I cannot
say that I have felt this much. The true cause of my dis-
quietude arises from a certain feature in my own mind, which
I can hardly describe ; a kind of unregulated ardour, in any
pursuit which appears to me to be of great importance, which
takes captive all my faculties, and binds them down to that
pursuit, and will not let them or me rest till it is accom-
plished. I hate thrs ; it is so unpleasant to wake, and to go
to sleep, with your head full of vats and tubs ; and I disap-
prove it more than I hate it. No man, I think, can have
more abstract conviction of the folly and futility of such
engagement of heart upon objects so utterly trifling and un-
durable. I see that it is an infirmity ; I deeply feel that it
chokes the good seed, and is a most pernicious weed, and I
feel the breaches that it makes in my own quiet : yet so
much am I its slave, that it will intrude into the midst of
such reflections, and carry me off to my next gyle.* How
sincerely I do often wish that I could direct this fervent
energy about temporals into its proper channel : that I could
be as warm about things of infinite importance, as I am about
dust and ashes.

" If I cannot accomplish this, I wish we could divide it, I
keep half for my business, and give you half for your book, f
How can you, my dear brother, be languid and spiritless,
with such a thing before you, and with such a capacity for
doing it excellently ! Are you not ashamed that I should be
more anxious about making porter, than you are about making
Christians ? At it, my dear fellow, at it, with vigour ; but
when you find your mind unsuited for it, write me another
letter, for the last was a great pleasure to

" Your affectionate

" T. F. BUXTON."

* A " gyle " is the technical name for a brewing,
f On the Evidences of the Christian Religion. See the Works of
Joseph John Gurney.

CIIAP. V. ADVENTURE WITH A MAD DOG. 57

CHAPTER V.

1816, 1817.

ADVKMIRE WITH A MAD DOO. DISTRESS IN SPITALFIELDS.

MU. BCXTON'S SPEECH. LETTERS ESTABLISHMENT OF PRISON

DISCIPLINE SOCIETY. DEATH OP CHARLES BUXTON. JOURNEY

OX THE CONTINENT. LETTERS. INCIDENT AT THE BREWERY.

BOOK ON PRISON DISCIPLINE.

AN incident which occurred during the summer of
1816, is thus mentioned by Mr. Buxton in a letter
to his wife, who fortunately was absent'at the time :

" Spitalfields, July 15. 1816.

" As you must hear the story of our dog Prince, I may as
well tell it you. On Thursday morning, when I got on my
horse at S. Hoare's, David told me that there was something
the matter with Prince, that he had killed the cat, and almost
killed the new dog, and had bit at him and Elizabeth. I
ordered him to be tied up and taken care of, and then rode off
t t>\vn. When I got into Hampstead, I saw Prince covered
with mud, and running furiously, and biting at every thing.
I -aw him bite at least a dozen dogs, two boys, and a man.

" Of course I was exceedingly alarmed, being persuaded he
was mad. I tried every effort to stop him or kill him, or to
drive him into some outhouse, but in vain. At last he sprang
up at a lxy, and seized him by the breast; happily I was
near him, and knocked him off with my whip. He then set
oh" towards London, and I rode by his side, waiting for some
opportunity of stopping him. I continually spoke to him, but
he paid no regard t<> coaxing or scolding. You may suppose
I \va> seriously alarmed, dreading the immense mischief he
might do, having seen him do so much in the few preceding

58 ADVENTUEE WITH A MAD DOG. CHAP. V.

minutes. I was terrified at the idea of his getting into
Camden Town and London, and at length considering that if
ever there was an occasion that justified a risk of life, this
was it, I determined to catch him myself. Happily he ran
up to Pryor's gate, and I threw myself from my horse upon
him, and caught him by the neck : he bit at me and struggled,
but without effect, and I succeeded in securing him, without
his biting me. He died yesterday, raving mad.

" Was there ever a more merciful escape ? Think of the
children being gone I I feel it most seriously, but I cannot
now write more fully. I have not been at all nervous about
it, tho' certainly rather low, occasioned partly by this, and
partly by some other things.

" I do not feel much fit for our Bible meeting on
Wednesday but I must exert myself.

" P. S. Write me word whether Fowell has any wound on
his fingers, and if he has one made by the dog, let it be cut
out immediately ; mind, these are my positive orders."

He afterwards mentioned some particulars which
he had omitted in this hurried letter.

" When I seized the dog," he said, " his struggles were so
desperate that it seemed at first almost impossible to hold
him, till I lifted him up in the air, when he was more easily
managed, and I contrived to ring the bell. I was afraid that
the foam, which was pouring from his mouth in his furious
efforts to bite me, might get into some scratch, and do rne
injury ; so with great difficulty, I held him with one hand,
while I put the other into my pocket and forced on my glove ;
then I did the same with my other hand, and at last the
gardener opened the door, saying, ' What do you want ? '
' I've brought you a mad dog,' replied I ; and telling him to
get a strong chain, I walked into the yard, carrying the dog
by his neck. I was determined not to kill him, as I thought
if he should prove not to be mad, it would be such a satis-
faction to the three persons whom he had bitten. I made the
gardener (who was in a terrible fright) secure the collar round
his neck and fix the other end of the chain to a tree, and then

1816, 1817. ADVKMLKK WITH A MAD DOG. 59

walking to its furthest range, with all my force, which was
nearly exhausted by his frantic struggles, I flung him away
i 101 u ni'\ and sprang back. He made a desperate bound
after me, but finding himself foiled, he uttered the most
fearful yell I ever heard. All that day he did nothing but
rush to and fro, champing the foam which gushed from his
ja\v> ; AVC threw him meat, and he snatched at it with fury,
but instantly dropped it again.

" The next day when I went to see him, I thought the
chain seemed worn, so I pinned him to the ground between
the prongs of a pitchfork, and then fixed a much larger chain
round his neck ; when I pulled off the fork, he sprang up
and made a dash at me, which snapped the old chain in two !
He died in forty-eight hours from the time he went mad."

Mr. Buxton writes to his wife a day or two after-
wards,

" I shot all the dogs, and drowned all the cats. The man
and boys who were bit, are doing pretty well. Their wounds
were immediately attended to, cut, and burnt out.

" What a terrible business it was. You must not scold
me for the risk I ran ; what I did I did from a conviction
that it was my duty, and I never can think that an over-
cautious care of self in circumstances where your risk may
rve others, is so great a virtue as you seem to think it.
I do believe that if I had shrunk from the danger, and others
had suffered in consequence, I should have felt more pain,
than I should have done, had I received a bite."

The winter of 1816 set in early, and with great
srYfritv; the silk trade was almost stagnant, and
the weavers in Spitalfields, always trembling on the
brink of starvation, were plunged into the deepest
mi<:Tv. It was increased by the constant influx
into the parish, of the poorest class of London
work pro|.le, who could find no lodging elsewhere. A

60 DISTRESS IN SPITALFIELDS. CHAP. V.

soup society had been long before established, but
the distress far exceeded the means provided for its
alleviation. Under these circumstances it was de-
termined to hold a meeting on the subject at the
Mansion House. Mr. Buxton and Mr. Samuel Hoare
delayed their usual visit to Norfolk, in order to ex-
plore, and assist in relieving, the sufferings of the
Spitalfields poor.

To Mrs. Buxton, at Earlham.

"Spitalfields, Nov. 9-1816.

" * * * S. Hoare and I came from Hampstead to attend a
committee this morning, and afterwards visited the poor. The
wretchedness was great indeed, but I felt most compassion for
a poor old creature of eighty, living alone without a fire or
blanket. She seemed quite bewildered by the sight of silver ;
her twilight of intellect lost in gratitude and amazement. Poor
old thing! that she, with all the infirmities of age, and without
one earthly consolation, should look upon the prospect of a
good meal as a cause of extravagant joy, and real happiness,
and that we, with the command of every comfort, in full
strength, without a bodily want, should ever repine at trifling
discomfitures, is, I hope, a lesson. We are going to have a
public meeting, and I trust a profitable one, for without a
large supply of money we must suspend our operations.
George Kett sent me 507. to-day."

" Spitalfields, Nov. 22. 1816.

" I did not write to you yesterday because really I had not
a moment's time; the committees and my own business
occupy every moment. I had a pleasant journey up to town.
I had much upon my mind, our conversation about the
eclipse. The vastness of the creation is indeed a subject for
meditation. ' The heavens declare the glory of God, and the
firmament showeth his handiwork.' 'When I consider the
stars which thou hast made, and the heavens which are the

1816, 1817. MB. BUXTON'S SPEECH. 61

work of thy hands, what is man that thou art mindful of
him ? ' How truly do these words describe the thoughts to
which the vast spectacle of nature, especially the heavenly
bodies, rolling in their appointed orbits, give rise. What a
sermon these are upon the mightiness of the Creator, and
Upon the insignificance of man : and yet that we, who arc
truly dust and nothingness, should have the presumption to
defy the power of the Almighty, to resist his commands, and
to place our whole souls and hearts upon that which he tells
us is but vanity ; this is (if nothing else were) a demon-
stration that the heart of man is ' deceitful above all things,
and desperately wicked.' On the other hand, that a Being
so infinitely great should condescend to invite us to our
duty, and to call that duty his service, proves as strongly
that he has crowned us with loving kindness and tender
mercy.

" I am well, and our proceedings about the poor, prosper ;
- but oh, my speech ! When shall I be able to think of it ?
I fear that I shall go to the meeting with it all in a jumble,
ami this would be wicked, as it would injure the good cause.
I do try, I hope, not to mingle too much of self, in my
earnest desires for its success, and I am not forgetful of my
usual resource in difficulty prayer.

" I am now going to the workhouse. I shall reach Earlham
on Tuesday ; S. Hoare and Abraham Plaistow will be with
me, and I hope the latter will be treated with deserved dis-
tinction, as he was for the first twelve years of my life the
dearest friend I had."

"Nov. 27. 1816.

" Well, our meeting went off capitally. I felt very flat,
ami did not go through the topics I meant to touch upon, and
upon the whole, considered it as a kind of failure ; but as I
hal entreated that what was best might be done, I did not
feel at all di.-lirartened, but to my great surprise, all others
took a very different sense of it.

" Tell dear Priscy I send her the ' Morning Chronicle,'
that r-lic may ivad papa's speech, and I hope it will make her
<f .-m ing the poor."

62 LETTER FROM WILBERFORCE. CHAP. V.

He might fairly be surprised by the universal
attention which this speech received. Nothing
could be more commendatory than the mention
made of it in the newspapers; and letters of con-
gratulation poured in from all sides. One from
Mr. Wilberforce, the first written by him to his
future ally and successor, may be deemed almost
prophetic.

" My dear Sir, " Kensington Gore, Nov. 28. 1816.

" I must in three words express the real pleasure, with
which I have both read and heard, of your successful effort on
Tuesday last, in behalf of the hungry and the naked. *
But I cannot claim the merit of being influenced only by
regard for the Spitalfields' sufferers, in the pleasure I have
received from your performances at the meeting. It is partly
a selfish feeling, for I anticipate the success of the efforts,
which I trust you will one day make in other instances, in an
assembly in which I trust we shall be fellow-labourers, both
in the motives by which we are actuated, and in the objects
to which our exertions will be directed.
" I am, my dear Sir,

" Yours sincerely,

" W. WILBERFORCE."

The speech reappeared in publications of the most
widely different character. It was republished by
the Spitalfields Benevolent Society, as the best means
of creating sympathy with their exertions; it was
republished by Hone and the democrats, as the best
statement of the miseries permitted under the existing
government ; and it was republished by the friends
of that government, " because," said they, " it forms
so beautiful a contrast to the language of those

1816, 1817. GOOD SUCCESS OF TIIE MEETING. 63

wretched demagogues, whose infamous doctrines
would increase the evils they affect to deplore."

" By this one meeting at the Mansion House," says
the report of the Spitalfields Benevolent Society,
" 4 3,36 9/. were raised." Two days after it had been
held, Lord Sidmouth sent for Mr. Buxton, to inform
him, that " the Prince had been so pleased by the
spirit and temper of the meeting, and so strongly
felt the claims that had been urged, that he had
sent them 5000/."

With these exertions for the poor around him,
Mr. Buxton's public career may be said to have
commenced. He was now launched upon that stream
of labour for the good of others, along which his
course lay for the remainder of his life. His letters
show the eagerness of his desire to be employing his
energies in warring against the evils around him.
To one of his relations, who had entered upon a
benevolent undertaking which required considerable
personal sacrifices, he writes,

" For my part, I cannot lament for and pity those who
make great sacrifices in compliance with conscience ; such de-
dication of self is, in my view, much more a matter of envy.
Assuredly, if we could look at such sacrifices throughout
their whole extent, in their consequences here to others, and
hereafter to ourselves, we should perceive that the permission
to be so engaged, is a privilege of inestimable value. I am
certain that you are only actuated by a conviction of duty,
and shall I repine and grieve because you are enabled to
follow so high a director? Or shall I not rather heartily
rejoice that you are called to such a service, and that the call
is not resisted ? I often think of those verses in the Acts,
' n-joiciiiLT that tin \ were counted worthy to suffer shame for
hid name ; and daily in the Temple and in every house, they

64 VISIT TO NEWGATE. CHAP. V.

ceased not to teach and to preach Jesus Christ.' And so 1
am half inclined to envy you, and more than hah to wish that,
somehow or other, I were as well engaged."

It was no part of his character to indulge in vague
desires without a bold struggle for their accomplish-
ment. Having done what he could in relieving the
miseries of his poor neighbours, he soon entered upon
a wider field of benevolence.

One day, while walking past Newgate with Mr.
Samuel Hoare, their conversation turned upon the
exertions of their sister-in-law Mrs. Fry, and her
companions, for the improvement of the prisoners
within its walls ; and this suggested the idea of em-
ploying themselves in a similar manner. They soon
entered into communication with Mr. William Craw-
ford, Mr. P. Bedford, and other gentlemen, who were
also anxious to improve the condition, at that time
deplorable to the last degree, of the English jails.

The exertions of Mrs. Fry and her associates had
prepared the way ; public attention had been drawn
to the subject; and in 1816 the Society for the
Reformation of Prison Discipline was formed. In
the list of the committee, Mr. Buxton's name stands
between those of Dr. Lushington and Lord Suffield
(then the Hon. E. Harbord), both of whom were
afterwards so closely associated with him in the
attack upon negro slavery.

On January the 5th, 1817, he writes from Hamp-
stead to Mrs. Buxton,

" After I had written to you yesterday, I went with
Charles and Peter Bedford, on a visit to Newgate. I saw
four poor creatures who are to be executed on Tuesday next.

1816, 1817. LETTER TO MRS. BUXTON. 65

Poor things ! God have mercy on them ! The sight of them
was sufficient for that day. I felt no further inclination to
examine the prison. It has made me long much that my life
may not pass quite uselessly; but that, in some shape or
<>th'T, I may assist in checking and diminishing crime and its
consequent misery. Surely it is in the power of all to do
something in the service of their Master; and surely I among
the rest, if I were now to begin and endeavour, to the best of
my capacity, to serve Him, might be the means of good to
some of my fellow-creatures. This capacity is, I feel, no mean
talent, and attended with no inconsiderable responsibility. I
must pray that I may at length stir my self up, and be enabled
to feel somewhat of the real spirit of a missionary, and that I
may devote myself, my influence, my time, and above all,
my affections, to the honour of God, and the happiness of
mat. 1 . My mission is evidently not abroad, but it is not less
a mission on that account. I feel that I may journey through
life by two very different paths, and that the time is now
come for choosing which I will pursue. I may go on, as I
have been going on, not absolutely forgetful of futurity, nor
absolutely devoted to it. I may get riches and repute, and
gratify my ambition, and do some good and more evil; and,
at 1 "iigth, I shall find all my time on earth expended, and in
retracing my life I shall see little but occasions lost, and ca-
pabilities misapplied. The other is a path of more labour
and le.-s indulgence. I may become a real soldier of Christ ;
I may feel that I have no business on earth but to do his
will and to walk in his ways, and I may direct every energy
I have to the service of others. Of these paths, I know
which I would most gladly choose : * but what I would, that
I do not ; but what I hate, that do I.' "

He now began to entertain thoughts of entering
hi Hi aim 'lit, and at the election of February, 1817,
he went down to Weymouth, at the invitation of
M