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XV KATHARINE E . _ COMAN„

THE LIFE

OF .

WILLIAM WILBEKFORCE:

BY HIS SONS,
ROBERT ISAAC WILBERFORCE, M. A.

VICAR OF EAST FARLEIGH, LATE FELLOW OF ORIEL COLLEGE;
AND

SAMUEL WILBERFORCE, M. A.

RECTOR OF BRIGHSTONE.
REVISED FOR THE AMERICAN EDITION

BY CASPAR MORRIS, M. D.
SECOND EDITION, ENLARGED.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

PHILADELPHIA:
HENRY PERKINS— 134 CHESTNUT STREET.

BOSTON IVES & DENNET.

1841.

Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1841, by Henry
Perkins, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District
of Pennsylvania.

C. Sherman & Co. Printers,
19 St James Street.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

CHAPTER L

Page

Death of Fox — Passage of Bill for Abolition of Slave Trade —
Contest for Yorkshire, 13

CHAPTER II.

Illness — East Indian Missions — Sunday Travelling — Hannah
More's Ccelebs — Summer Retreat and Occupations, - 38

CHAPTER III.

Domestic Character — King's Illness — Feelings towards Dis-
senters— War with America — Correspondence with S.
Roberts, Esq. ------ 60

CHAPTER IV.

Proposes retiring from representation of Yorkshire — Bible So-
ciety— Feeling towards America — Death of Mr. Perceval —
Retires from representation of Yorkshire, - - 84

CHAPTER V.

Parental Character — Rules for Conduct — Owen of Lanark —
Roman Catholic Question — East India Missions, - 106

CHAPTER VI.

Mad. De Stael — Social Character — Efforts to promote Abolition
by Continental Powers — Emperor Alexander, - 129

CHAPTER VII.

Private Usefulness — Death of H. Thornton and J. Bowdler —
Corn Law Riots — Battle of Waterloo — Intercourse with
Prince Regent, - 150

xii

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VIII.

Page

Abuse on account of Efforts for Negro Emancipation— Death
of his Sister — Letters to Children — Political Disturbances —
Interest in Hayti, ----- 170

CHAPTER IX.

Death of Princess* Charlotte — Interest in Negroes — Mrs. Fry
— Visit to the Lakes — Efforts for benefit of Hayti — Humility
— Religious Anniversaries, - 198

CHAPTER X.

Death of Miss Martha More — Disturbances among the lower
orders — Death of Dean Milner — Queen's case, - 219

CHAPTER XI.

Family Religion — Death of eldest Daughter — Retirement at
Marden Park — Death of Lord Londonderry — Letter to
former Tutor — Efforts for West India Emancipation, - 235

CHAPTER XII.

Barmouth — Retires from Parliament — Visits to Friends — Re-
collections of Public Characters, - 258

CHAPTER XIII.

Extracts from Diary — Life at Highwood Hill — Tranquillity of
his age — Various Sketches of Character, - - 279

CHAPTER XIV. v

Difficulties in Building Chapel — Loss of Fortune — Retires to
his Sons' Houses — Final Efforts in the Cause of Emanci-
pation, ------ 294

CHAPTER XV.
Illness and Death, - - - - 311

Appendix, ------ 327

LIFE OF

THE

WILBERFORCE.

CHAPTER I.

Death of Fox — Passage of Bill for Abolition of Slave Trade — Contest
for Yorkshire.

The death of Mr. Pitt dissolved the existing govern-
ment, and the inheritance of his power was divided
amongst the followers of Mr. Fox, Lord Grenville, Mr.
Windham, and Lord Sidmouth. It was Mr. Wilber-
force's general practice to support the King's govern-
ment whenever he was able; and on this ground he now
disclaimed at once all intentions of systematic opposition.
He wished too, as far as possible, to conciliate their sup-
port in the approaching Abolition struggle; and greatly
to the annoyance of many of his friends supported Lord
Henry Petty in the contest for the representation of the
University of Cambridge, which followed the death of
Mr. Pitt.

Yet even to purchase support upon this question, he
could not sacrifice his own independence. " Our great
cause," he tells Mr. Gisborne, " has been considerably
accredited by what has passed at the Cambridge election.
Lord Henry Petty got a great deal of support, owing to
his known zeal in it. His opponent Lord Palmerstone
lost much owing to his being. supposed, mistakenly I be-
lieve, to be our enemy; and numbers declared they
would not, though satisfied in all other points, vote for an
anti-abolitionist. So far well. The Chancellor of the

VOL. u. 2

14

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1806.

Exchequer comes from Cambridge in a good state of
mind quoad hoc. Fox a decided friend. Grenville ditto.
Lord Spencer I believe favourable, but not very strong.
Lord Moira I doubt ; Sidmouth, Ellenborough. Erskine
talking friendly to me, but always absenting himself.
Lord Fitzwilliam I am not quite sure, but I think favoura-
ble. Windham contra. But the great point would be
to get if possible the royal family to give up their oppo-
sition. Stephen had a plan suggested by his warm zeal,
that we should send a deputation to the new ministry, to
make a sort of contract that we would befriend them as
we did Pitt, i. e. give them a turn of the scale, &c. if
they would promise us to support the Abolition as a
government measure. The idea is inadmissible, both on
grounds of rectitude and policy, (the two parties would
infallibly have different ideas of the practical extent of
the obligation, and mutual misunderstanding would en-
sue,) yet I think we ought to contrive that the effect in-
tended by it may be produced ; and though I dare
scarcely be sanguine when I recollect with whom we
have to do, yet I cannot but entertain some hopes that
the wish to mollify, and even conciliate, a number of
strange impracticable and otherwise uncomeatable fellows
by gratifying them in this particular, may have its weight;
at least it will tend to counteract the fear of offending
the West Indians."

Upon these independent principles he acted from the
first, and was compelled to oppose one of the earliest
measures of administration.

The leading members of the new government under-
stood his principles ; and to his great joy entered heartily
into his abolition views. " Consulting about Abolition.
Fox and Lord Henry Petty talked as if we might certain-
ly carry our question in the House of Commons, but should
certainly lose it in the House of Lords. This looks but
ill, as if they wished to please us, and yet not. forfeit Prince
of Wales' favour, and that of G. R. and other anti-aboli-
tionists." Notwithstanding these expressions, he never
questioned the sincerity of Mr. Fox's attachment to his
cause; and he learned afterwards with pleasure, that

1807.

ABOLITION PROSPECTS.

15

14 the Prince had given his honour to Fox, not to stir ad-
versely. " After many conferences, in the following
week, " with Lord Grenville, Lord Sidmouth, Fox, Lord
Henry Petty, Stephen," he determined that a Bill for
the prohibition of the Foreign Slave Trade (which would
fix the advantages gained in the last year) should precede
his general measure. This naturally followed Mr. Pitt's
Order in Council ; and would have been moved by Lord
Henry Petty in the former session, but for the dangerous
illness of Lord Lansdown. It was judged right to in-
trust this measure in the Commons to one of the law
officers of the Crown ; and Lord Grenville agreed to intro-
duce in the Lords, assuring Mr. Wilberforce that he
should be " happy to promote the object in any way." The
subject was immediately entered upon. While this Bill
was passing through the Commons, a similar one was
introduced into the House of Lords, where it was carried
triumphantly on the 10th of May. "I saw our strength,"
says Lord Grenville, " and thought the occasion was
favourable for launching out a little beyond what the
measure itself actually required. I really think a foun-
dation is laid for doing more and sooner than I have for
a long time allowed myself to hope." Mr. Wilberforce
rejoiced in this success. " Sunday 18th. We have car-
ried the Foreign Slave Bill, and wre are now deliberating
whether we shall push the main question. O Lord, do
Thou guide us right, and enable me to maintain a spiritual
mind amid all my hurry of wrorldly business, having my
conversation in heaven."

He had intended to follow up this measure by the
general Bill, but after " meeting Fox at Lord Grenville's,
and holding some anxious consultations with them, and
also with" his " own friends about the expediency of pro-
posing the general question this year; when it was al-
most decided to try," he " most reluctantly gave up the
idea on Lord Grenville's sure opinion, that no chance
this session in the House of Lords; the Bishops going
out of town, &c. But we are to have a general resolu-
tion for Abolition both in Commons and Lords. How
wonderful are the ways of God, and how are we taught

16

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1806.

to trust not in man but in Him ! Though intimate with
Pitt for all my life since earliest manhood, and he most
warm for Abolition, and really honest ; yet now my
whole human dependence is placed on Fox, to whom
this life opposed, and on Grenville, to whom always
rather hostile till of late years, when I heard he was
more religious. O Lord, Thou hast all hearts in Thy
disposal : oh that it may be Thy will to put an end to
this abhorred system."

The debate came on upon the 10th of June, when he
moved an address, calling on the King to use his influence
to obtain the co-operation of foreign powers: "a measure
which it obviously would not be so proper for any of the
King's ministers to bring forward."

The resolutions, which were proposed by the leading
ministers, declared the Slave Trade to be " contrary to
the principles of justice, humanity, and sound policy
and that the House would, " with all practicable expe-
diency" proceed to abolish it. " We carried our resolu-
tions 100 and odd to 14, and my address without a divi-
sion. If it please God to spare the health of Fox, and to
keep him and Grenville together, I hope we shall next
year see the termination of all our labours." Before the
session closed a Bill was passed rapidly through both
Houses to prevent the employment in the Trade of any
fresh ships.

During all this time county business had pressed hard
upon him. Some of the taxes proposed by the new
government were most injurious to his mercantile con-
stituents. A projected tax on unwrought iron, was that
which the manufacturers of Yorkshire most condemned.
This he was a principal instrument in defeating, "It
pleased God," he says, "that I got a good deal of credit
in the iron business, having made myself master of it."
This attention to commercal matters, and still more his
conduct in the woollen trade inquiry, were highly valued
in his county, and produced no small effect in the elec-
tions which so unexpectedly followed. The woollen
trade inquiry involved " a very fatiguing parliamentary
attendance." The committee "had sat above five weeks,"

1806.

EFFORTS OF CONSTITUENTS.

17

on the 25th of May, and " continued till within a few
days of the rising of parliament." During all which time
he " never but one day was prevented from attending it."

After a long examination of witnesses, the Committee
met to agree on their Report, " after wasting two or
three mornings about it, reading it round a table — a sad
way; they gave the preparation of it up to" him, " in a
very confiding, but really very friendly manner." He
" returned to Broomfield in the evening," intending at
once to set about his task ; but the following week was
crowded with engagements. Tuesday was " the House
of Lords debate on Fox's Slave Trade Resolution.
Most gratifying, Ellenborough especially ; and Lord
Erskine — though theatrical. Carried it, 42 to 21. Lord
Sidmouth as usual." Wednesday morning he was at-
tending a committee, and not home till late in the even-
ing. On Thursday and Friday he was " in town all
day, and both nights at the House on Windham's Train-
ing Bill. Sunday drilling discussed." This evil custom
he successfully resisted.

He took to himself no credit for this triumph. " How
wonderfully," are his reflections on it, " does God teach
us to look to him! In the Sunday drilling, the House of
Commons against us, and Windham himself against us,
yet by Windham's having admitted the clause, I hope
we shall keep it in."

All this had interrupted the preparation of his Report.
It was to be presented on the Monday, when he " put off
the meeting of the Committee, thinking it would be
better afterwards to have taken a day more, and done
it well. And so it proved. Nobody asks afterwards
how long it took, but how well done. Speaker compli-
mented me much upon it. I carried it almost finished to
the Committee, and all of them delighted with it, and
most pleasingly liberal and kind." It was a masterly
composition; laying clearly down the true principles
upon which the trade must be conducted ; befriending
the domestic clothier whilst it freed the manufacturer
from all needless and harassing restrictions.

But the state of Mr. Fox's health soon occupied all
2*

18

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1806.

his attention. June 27th. " William Smith with us.
after the House, and talking of poor Fox constrainedly ;
when at last, overcome by his feelings, he burst out with
a real divulging of his danger — dropsy. Poor fellow,
how melancholy is his case ! he has not one religious
friend, or one who knows any thing about it. How
wonderful God's providence ! How poor a master the
world ! No sooner grasps his long-sought object than it
shows itself a bubble, and he is forced to give it up."
" I am much affected by his situation. In great danger
apparently. Oh that I might be the instrument of bring-
ing him to the knowledge of Christ ! I have entertained
now and then a hope of it. God can do all things.
His grace is infinite both in love and power. I quite
love Fox for his generous and warm fidelity to the
Slave Trade cause. Even very lately, when conscious
that he would be forced to give up parliament for the
session at least, he said M he wished to go down to the
House once more to say something on the Slave Trade."

The cause of Abolition was now thought by men in
general to be gained. Immediately after the Resolutions
of June 24th, he was " congratulated" by a friend, the
owner of a large West India property, " on the Aboli-
tion of the Slave Trade being carried, a work which
you have had at your heart these twenty years. You
will say I am superstitious, but I do not think I have
ever done well in the world since I voted against it. No-
thing has succeeded with me. I do not mean to say I
am distressed, but my money has seemed so much dross,
it turns to no account, or like sand is blown away. As
you know my hand-writing I will not put my name, and
only add that I am, my dear W., very affectionately
yours."

But he knew that the struggle was not yet over, and
until it was, he would not rest. " I am sick of bustle,
and long for quiet, but I will not leave the poor slaves in
the lurch." He found only a new motive for exertion
in seeing that " the Abolition looked more promising
than for many years." No measure was omitted which
the most watchful prudence could suggest. The London

1806.

DEATH OF MR. FOX.

19

Committee, which had re-assembled in 1804, after an in-
terval of seven years, and again held itself ready to act
" subject to the call of Mr. Wilberforce," met regularly
this year at his house " in Palace Yard ;" and he made
arrangements in various quarters for providing the evi-
dence which the House of Lords might possibly require.
Nor were his labours over, when leaving the neighbour-
hood of London towards the end of August, he " slipped
into the snug and retired harbour of Lyme, for the pur-
pose of careening and refitting." He had long designed
writing an address upon the Slave Trade, and he now
set resolutely to this task. " What was once known on
that subject is now almost forgotten, and so many new
members have come into parliament, that even for their
sakes it is desirable to state what we do really hold."
ik Esteeming it also as one of the greatest honours of my
life . . the greatest political honour . . that I have been
called forth by Providence to be the advocate in this
great cause, I think I ought to leave behind me some
authentic record of the real nature and amount of the
question." He had long postponed this work, that it
might come out just before the subject was debated in
the House of Lords.

Here he was soon followed by the account of Mr.
Fox's death. " So poor Fox is gone at last. I am more
affected by it than I thought I should be." "How
speedily has he followed his great rival ! Thurlow too
gone. Independently of all other considerations, there
is something which comes home to a man in the gradual
quitting of the stage of those who are parts of the same
dramatis personae as himself. Even I seem to myself to
be reminded that I am verging towards the close of the
piece." " Well may we also be ready."

In the midst of quiet home occupations he was
" shocked by a letter from Lord Grenville announcing a
dissolution of parliament." u Sadly unsettled by the
news." No time was to be lost. Upon the 21st he was
on his way to Yorkshire. At "Blandford saw Fawkes's
advertisement in the Courier, and first knew of opposi-
tion. Travelled on through Salisbury. Landlord asked

20

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

me for Cheap Repository tracts, saying those I had left
had done great good, had reformed some of his men, had
done himself good, and public too." On the road he
addressed a letter to his constituents, and after an active
canvass was triumphantly returned.

As soon as he returned home he "renewed his Slave
Trade pamphlet," and continued hard at work upon it ;
quitting it only to engage in the necessary preparations
for the approaching campaign.

He continued intent upon his work till near the end of
January. At length, on the 27th, he made " a great
effort to finish the book: which I did about six o'clock,
and sent it to London, and it is to be out on the 31st, by
dint of extreme exertion, and sent to the Lords."

He had expected much from the critical appearance
of this book; and he was not disappointed. "Its bene-
ficial effect," writes Mr. Roscoe, " could not escape the
observation of any one, who attended the discussion in
the Lords." Its effect was greatly strengthened by its
mild and generous temper towards the defenders of the
system. " In admiring your triumph," writes Mr. Hay-
ley, " I also admire the lenity with which you adorn it.
You treat your opponents with the mild magnanimity of
a British admiral, who when the thunder of his cannon
has reduced the ships of his enemies, exerts his fortitude
and skill to rescue them from utter perdition."

The following extract from a letter to the Freeholders
of Yorkshire, exhibits most forcibly his views on the
subject of the certainty with which national punishments
follow national crimes. How different is such an ad-
dress from the violent party spirit which generally marks
the character of such documents ! " It is often rather
in the way of a gradual decline," he says, "than of vio-
lent and sudden shocks, that national crimes are punished.
I must frankly therefore confess to you that in the case
of my country's prosperity or decline, my hopes and
fears are not the sport of every passing rumour ; nor do
they rise or fall materially, according to the successive
reports we may receive of the defeats or victories of
Buonaparte. But he who has looked with any care into

1807.

PROGRESS OF BILL FOR ABOLITION.

21

the page of history, will acknowledge that when nations
are prepared for their fall, human instruments will not
be wanting to effect it : and lest man, vain man, so apt
to overrate the powers and achievements of human
agents, should ascribe the subjugation of the Romans to
the consummate policy and powers of a Julius Caesar,
their slavery shall be completed by the unwarlike Au-
gustus, and shall remain entire under the hateful tyranny
of Tiberius, and throughout all the varieties of their
successive masters. Thus it is, that most commonly by
the operation of natural causes, and in the way of natu-
ral consequences, Providence governs the world. But if
we are not blind to the course of human events, as well
as utterly deaf to the plain instructions of revelation, we
must believe that a continued course of wickedness, op-
pression, and cruelty, obstinately maintained in spite of
the fullest knowledge and the loudest warnings, must in-
fallibly bring down upon us the heaviest judgments of the
Almighty. We may ascribe our fall to weak councils or
unskilful generals; to a factious and over-burdened peo-
ple; to storms which waste our fleets; to diseases which
thin our armies; to mutiny among our soldiers and
sailors, which may even turn against us our own force ;
to the diminution of our revenues, and the excessive in-
crease of our debt: men may complain on one side of a
venal ministry, on the other of a factious opposition ;
while amid mutual recriminations, the nation is gradually
verging to its fate. Providence will easily find means
for the accomplishment of its own purposes."

As soon as his book was out he was again engaged in
action. The approaching debate called for every exer-
tion. " Grenville told me yesterday he could not count
more than fifty-six, yet had taken pains, written letters,
&c. The Princes canvassing against us, alas." It
seemed clear that he would have no easy triumph. Two
Cabinet ministers never withdrew their opposition, and
the Dukes of Clarence and of Sussex declared openly
against the Bill, speaking, as it was understood, the sen-
timents of all the reigning family. Yet the ice of preju-
dice was rapidly dissolving; and when he visited Lord

22

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1807

Grenville on the morning of the debate, "he went over
the list of peers, and was sanguine, counting on above
seventy in all." The same evening came the crisis of
the struggle. " House of Lords, Abolition Bill till five in
the morning, when carried, 72 and 28 proxies, to 28 and
6 proxies."

He had learned from frequent disappointments to look
at the promise of success with a calm and tempered
joy; but more from excess of anxiety than any exact
apprehensions of danger. " 1 receive congratulations
from all, as if all done. Yet I cannot be sure. May it
please God to give us success." And on the day before
the second reading he makes the following entry in his
Diary: — "Never surely had I more cause for gratitude
than now, when carrying the great object of my life, to
which a gracious Providence directed my thoughts
twenty-six or twenty-seven years ago, and led my en-
deavours in 1787 or 1788. O Lord, let me praise Thee
with my whole heart: for never surely was there any
one so deeply indebted as myself ; which way soever I
look I am crowded with blessings. Oh may my grati-
tude be in some degree proportionate."

It was in this spirit that he entered the House upon the
23d of February. "Busy for Lord Howick in the morn-
ing. Friends dined before House. Slave Trade debate.
Lord Howick opened — embarrassed and not at ease, but
argued ably. Astonishing eagerness of House; six or
eight starting up to speak at once, young noblemen, &c,
and asserting high principles of rectitude. Lord Milton
very well. Fawkes finish, but too much studied, and
cut and dried. Solicitor-General excellent; and at
length contrasted my feelings, returning to my private
roof, and receiving the congratulations of my friends, and
laying my head on my pillow, &c, with Buonaparte's,
encircled with kings his relatives. It quite overcame
me." The House was little less affected by Sir Samuel
Romilly's address. When he entreated the young mem-
bers of parliament to let this day's event be a lesson to
them, how much the rewards of virtue exceeded those of
ambition ; and then contrasted the feelings of the Empe-

1807.

PASSAGE OF ABOLITION BILL.

23

ror of the French in all his greatness with those of that
honoured individual, who would this day lay his head
upon his pillow and remember that the Slave Trade was
no more; the whole House, surprised into a forgetful-
ness of its ordinary habits, burst forth into acclamations
of applause. They had seen the unwearied assiduity
with which, during twenty years, he had vainly ex-
hausted all the expedients of wisdom; and when they
saw him entering with a prosperous gale, the port
w7hither he had been so often driven, they welcomed
him with applause " such as was scarcely ever before
given," says Bishop Porteus, " to any man sitting in his
place in either House of parliament." So full was his
heart of its own deep thoughts of thankfulness that he
scarcely noticed these unusual honours. " Is it true,"
Mr. Hey asked him, " that the House gave you three
cheers upon the conclusion of the Solicitor-General's
speech I And if so, was not this an unprecedented effu-
sion of approbation V? 44 To the questions you ask me,"
he replies, 44 1 can only say that 1 was myself so com-
pletely overpowered by my feelings when he touched so
beautifully on my domestic reception, (which had been
precisely realized a few evenings before, on my return
from the House of Lords,) that I was insensible to all
that was passing around me."

The debate proceeded with little show of opposition,
except from one West Indian planter, who gave him an
opportunity of replying in a speech 44 distinguished for
splendour of eloquence and force of argument ;"*' and
then came the cheering issue. "At length divided, 283
to 16. A good many came over to Palace Yard after
House up, and congratulated me. John Thornton and
Heber, Sharp, Macaulay, Grant and Robert Grant,
Robert Bird and William Smith, who in the gallery." It
was a triumphant meeting. 44 Well, Henry," Mr. Wil-
berforce asked playfully of Mr. Thornton, " what shall
we abolish next?" 44 The lottery, I think," gravely re-
plied his sterner friend. " Let us make out the names of

Ann. Register.

24

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

these sixteen miscreants; I have four of them," said
William Smith. Mr. Wilberforce, kneeling, as was his
wont, upon one knee at the crowded table, looked up
hastily from the note which he was writing — "Never
mind the miserable 16, let us think of our glorious 283."
This was Reginald Heber's first introduction to Mr.
Wilberforce. Heber had entered the room with a strong
suspicion of his principles, but he left it saying to his
friend John Thornton, "How an hour's conversation can
dissolve the prejudice of years !" Perhaps his witness-
ing this night the Christian hero in his triumph after the
toil of years, may have been one step towards his gain-
ing afterwards the martyr's crown at Trichonopoly.

The next day w7as appointed for a public fast. "I
was forced to write to the Duke of Gloucester, from
whom, as also from Lord Grenville, most kind and pious
letters of congratulation. Then St. Margaret's church.
Returning, talked with Stephen on Slave Trade Aboli-
tion Bill. Then Lord Howick sent for me about clauses,
and not back till late."

For some weeks he continued " very much occupied,
making other matters bend to the Abolition." But on
one important occasion of a different kind he took an
active part, opposing the increased grant which minis-
ters designed to give to the Roman Catholic College at
Maynooth. Popery, he wras convinced, was the true
bane of Ireland, and he deemed it nothing less than in-
fatuation to take any steps for its encouragement. This
opinion he fearlessly asserted. "I am not," he said,
"one of those men who entertain the large and liberal
views on religious subjects, insisted on with so much
energy by the honourable gentlemen on the other side ;
I am not so much like a certain ruler, of whom it has
upon a late occasion been so happily said, that he was an
honorary member of all religions." " Carried up the
Bill to the Lords ;" at which time it w:as supposed to be
"clear that government was out, or as good as out."
This "filled him with alarm about the Abolition Bill, lest
it should fall through between the two ministries, neither
being responsible, and the Bill perhaps being thrown out

1S07.

LETTER FROM SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.

23

by the absence of friends, and the attendance of sturdy
Africans and West Indians, the Princes taking the lead."
To his joy he was assured by Mr. Perceval, whose at-
tachment to the cause w?as above all suspicion, "that
Lords Eldon and Hawkesbury, as well as Castlereagh,
declare that now they will lend themselves to any thing
needful for giving effect to the measure."

But the honour of passing such a measure was not to
be reserved for the new administration. Upon the 23d
of March he 44 travelled about all the morning between
Speaker, Leigh, and Lord Grenville; parliamentary
office, and Whittam's; about error in the Abolition Bill."
The debate upon the third reading in the Lords came
on, the same evening, and the Bill was passed. Two
days afterwards, " received the royal assent" . . and
passed into a law. It was the last act of the old min-
istry.

And now his labours were indeed completed. Con-
gratulations poured in upon him from every quarter.
44 To speak," wrote Sir James Mackintosh from the
other Indies, 44 of fame and glory to Mr. Wilberforce,
would be to use a language far beneath him; but he will
surely consider the effect of his triumph on the fruitful-
ness of his example. Who knows whether the greater
part of the benefit that he has conferred on the world, (the
greatest that any individual has had the means of con-
ferring,) may not be the encouraging example that the
exertions of virtue may be crowned by such splendid
success? We are apt petulantly to express our wonder
that so much exertion should be necessary to suppress
such flagrant injustice. The_more just reflection will be,
that a short period of the short life of one man is, well
and wisely directed, sufficient to remedy the miseries of
millions for ages. Benevolence has hitherto been too
often disheartened by frequent failures; hundreds and
thousands will be animated by Mr. Wilberforce's exam-
ple, by his success, and (let me use the word only in the
moral sense of preserving his example) by a renown that
can only perish with the world, to attack all the forms
of corruption and cruelty that scourge mankind. Oh

VOL. II. 3

26

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

what twenty years in the life of one man those were,
which abolished the Slave Trade ! How precious is
time! How valuable and dignified is human life, which
in general appears so base and miserable ! How noble
and sacred is human nature, made capable of achieving
such truly great exploits !"

For himself, all selfish triumph was lost in unfeigned
gratitude to God. "I have indeed inexpressible reasons
for thankfulness on the glorious result of that struggle
which, with so many eminent fellow-labourers, I have so
long maintained. I really cannot account for the fervour
which happily has taken the place of that fastidious, well-
bred luke-w7armness which used to display itself on this
subject, except by supposing it to be produced by that
almighty power which can influence at will the judgment
and affections of men."

" Oh what thanks do I owe the Giver of all good, for
bringing me in His gracious providence to this great
cause, which at length, after almost nineteen years' la-
bour, is successful !"

Mr. Wilberforce had been no unmoved spectator of
the recent change of ministry. Most anxiously for the
sake of his great cause, had he watched the several
steps which led to their rupture wTith the King.

He wras bound by his general principles to support the
new ministry. " It is in one grand particular the same
question as in 1784. My then principles, to which I still
adhere, would govern my vote, even if I did not think so
favourably of their leader, Perceval, as I do." But this
he could not do without the appearance of ingratitude
towards those w7ho had assisted him so warmly in the
Abolition struggle. Even to appear ungrateful gave him
no little pain; but the law of duty was absolute, and he
obeyed it strictly, finding only a new proof that " poli-
tics are a most unthankful business." " The debt of
gratitude," he told his constituents, " which is due to the
late ministry from myself, I shall ever be ready to ac-
knowledge, and by all legitimate methods to repay ; but
I have no right to recompense their services by my par-

1807.

CONTEST FOR YORKSHIRE.

27

liamentary support. That is not mine to give or with-
hold at pleasure."

" My situation and feelings," he told Mr. Wrangham
as early as the 24th of March, " are very embarrassing
from the conflicting considerations and emotions which
come into play. On the one hand, Lords Grenville,
Howick, and Henry Petty have acted most zealously
and honourably in the business of Abolition, and the
success of that great measure, (for, blessed be God, we
may now say it has succeeded, though in form the
Bill has two stages more to pass through,) is, under a
gracious Providence, to be ascribed to their hearty ef-
forts. Yet on the other hand I feel deeply impressed
with a sense of the importance of not embarking on a
Roman Catholic bottom, (if I may so term it,) the in-
terest and well-being of our Protestant empire."

On this ground he had boldly resisted the ministerial
grant for enlarging the college of Maynooth, even when
the tardy success of twenty years of labour seemed to be
endangered by such honest opposition. No efforts were
spared to gain him over; but there was a simplicity of
view in all his public conduct, which made such attempts
absolutely powerless.

In the midst of anticipations of a difficult and labori-
ous session, he "was astonished by a letter from Perceval
announcing a dissolution." This was most unwelcome
intelligence. The angry feelings which had cost Mr.
Lascelles his election in the last year were by no means
allayed; and party spirit had been stirred to an unwonted
pitch by late public events. He learned at once that his
old colleague would again take the field ; that Mr. Fawkes,
though a man of large fortune, shrunk from the expenses
of a contest ; and that Lord Milton came forward in his
place. No one could foresee the result of such a colli-
sion. In their calmer hours indeed all moderate men might
think their own victory dearly purchased by the loss of
their independent representative; but such feelings would
be forgotten in the delirium of the conflict : while it is
more than probable that the leaders in the strife would

28

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

view with no great dissatisfaction, a result which would
share again between their families the representation of
the county. Whatever was its issue, the contest must
be ruinous to any man of ordinary fortune. " Lord Hare-
wood" was " ready to spend in it his whole Barbadoes
property," and Wentworth House was not less threaten-
ing in its preparations. Mr. Wilberforce's fortune would
stand no such demands ; " and the plan of a subscrip-
tion," said a leading politician in an adjoining county,
" may answer very well in a borough, but it is hopeless
where things must be conducted upon such a scale as
in the county of York." Many of his friends dissuaded
him from entering on the contest ; but the moral im-
portance which he attached to it, determined him to
venture the attempt, and after " sending on the 25th of
April, expresses to Leeds and other places," and hearing
on the 27th "the King's speech read by the Speaker
round the table to standers-by . . recommendation of
union caught at by opposition" . . he set himself off' for
York.

He left London upon the 28th, after " a narrow escape
from breaking my leg" (an accident which would have
been fatal to his hopes) just when setting out — Deo
gratias — how are we always in his hands r Upon the
29th he entered Yorkshire, and was immediately en-
gaged in the full bustle of the contest.

A meeting of his friends had been held on the pre-
ceding day at York; but whilst " Mr. Lascelles and
Lord Milton had already engaged canvassing agents,
houses of entertainment, and every species of convey-
ance in every considerable town," six important days
elapsed before any number of his friends could be brought
together. At length, upon the 4th of May, his principal
supporters met at York, and agreed to establish local
committees throughout every district, in the hope that
voluntary zeal would supply the place of regular can-
vassing agents. Meanwhile he himself set out upon a
hasty canvass of the West Riding, and traversed all its
more populous parts with his usual rapidity and success.
" Time was," as he said the year before, " when I did

1807.

CONTEST FOR YORKSHIRE.

29

no^ disiike such scenes;" but he had now reached a
calmer age, and " sickened at a contest." In the tumult
of popular applause which waited on his canvass, " I
look forward," he tells Mr. Hey, " with pleasure to the
prospect of a quiet Sunday with you, and rejoice that
half the week is gone by ; yet I am daily, hourly expe-
riencing the never-failing mercies of Heaven." " I have
often told you," he writes from Mr. Hey's to Mrs. Wil-
berforce, " that I never enjoy this blessed day so much
as during a time of peculiar bustle and turmoil. It seems
as if God graciously vouchsafed a present reward for
our giving up to Him a liberal measure of that time and
attention, which worldly men would deem necessary to
the success of their worldly plans."

The nomination came on at York upon the 13th, and
nearly every hand was held up in his favour. So far all
was promising; but how the expenses of the approach-
ing contest could be safely met, was a most serious
question. The nomination was followed by a meeting
of his friends, at which this subject was brought forward.
He at once " declared with manly firmness, that he
never would expose himself to the imputation of endea-
vouring to make a seat in the House of Commons sub-
servient to the repair of a dilapidated fortune."* He
claimed therefore the promises of support which had
been liberally made, and called upon the county to assert
its independence. Those who were present on that day,
can still remember the effect produced by his appeal;
and it was replied to nobly. " It is impossible," said a
gentleman, who rose as soon as he sat down, "that we
can desert Mr. Wilberforce, and therefore put down my
name for £500." This example spread ; about £18,000
was immediately subscribed; and it was resolved that
his cause was a county object, and that he should not
even be permitted to put down his name to the subscrip-
tions opened to support his election.

The next day he set off to spend the few days which
preceded the election in a canvass of the East Riding.

* Annual Register.
3*

30

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

On reaching Hull he was met by a great body of free-
holders at the hall of Sculcoates; " and when standing
up to address them, it seemed," says an eye-witness, "as
if he was struck by the scene before him — the fields and
gardens where he had played as a boy, now converted
into wharfs or occupied by buildings ; and pouring forth
the thoughts with which the change impressed him — the
gradual alteration of external objects, and the still
greater alteration which had taken place in themselves
— he addressed the people with the most thrilling ef-
fect."

The next day was Sunday, and he was able to " bless
God that his mind was pretty free from politics." " I
walked with him," says the Rev. Mr. Dykes, " for a con-
siderable time. We called upon various friends, and I
was much struck to see how totally he had dismissed
from his mind all thoughts of the approaching contest.
His conversation related entirely to subjects which suited
the day. He was speaking particularly about the words
1 being made meet for the inheritance of the saints in
light,' and seemed free from any sort of care about what
was coming."

He returned to York on the day of election, (Wednes-
day, May 20th,) and here things assumed an unexpected
aspect. The show of hands was against him ; and on
that day he was second, the next lowest, on the poll.
This was in part owing to the want of conveyances, and
to the impossibility of giving to volunteer supporters the
order and arrangement of professional agents. Appear-
ances were so unfavourable, that when his friends met
at dinner after the conclusion of the poll — " I can see,
gentlemen, clearly enough how this will turn out," said
the barrister who had come from London as his profes-
sional adviser; "Mr. Wilberforce has obviously no
chance, and the sooner he resigns the better." But
if the combinations of regular discipline were more
prompt in their effect, the vast muster of independent
freeholders on the third day proved them to be no match
for the voluntary zeal to which he trusted. " No car-
riages are to be procured," says a letter from Hull, "but

1807.

ELECTION FOR YORKSHIRE.

31

boats are proceeding up the river heavily laden with
voters: farmers lend their wagons; £ven donkeys have
the honour of carrying voters lor Wilberforce, and hun-
dreds are proceeding on foot. This is just as it should
be. No money can convey all the voters ; but if their
feelings are roused, his election is secure."

" My having been left behind on the poll/' he writes
to Mrs. Wilberforce on the evening of Friday, 11 seemed
to rouse the zeal of my friends, (I should rather say, of
my fervent adherents,) they exerted themselves, and have
mended my condition. You would be gratified to see the
affection which is borne me by many to whom I am
scarcely or not at all known. Even those who do not
vote for me seem to give me their esteem. I am thank-
ful for the weather," (the preceding days had been rainy
and boisterous,) " and indeed I am thankful for a quiet
mind, which is placed above the storm."

How completely this was the case, may be better
shown by the following letter to Mrs. Wilberforce.

" York, Sunday night, May 24.

" I am robbed of the time I meant to spend in writing
to you, at least of a great part of it ; but you will be glad
to hear that I have spent on the whole a very pleasant
Sunday, though this evening is of necessity passed in my
committee-room. I have been twice at the Minster,
where the sublimity of the whole scene once nearly
overcame me. It is the largest and finest Gothic build-
ing probably in the world. The city is full of free-
holders, who came in such numbers as to cover the whole
area of the place (a very large one) where the service
is performed, and every seat and pew were filled. I was
exactly reminded of the great Jewish Passover in the
Temple, in the reign of Josiah. It is gratifying to say
that there was the utmost decency, and not the smallest
noise or indecorum ; no cockades or distinctive marks.
Indeed, I must say, the town is wonderfully quiet, consi-
dering it is an election time. I am now writing in a
front room, and I sat in one for two hours last night,
and there was not the smallest noise or disturbance :"no

32

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

more I declare than in any common town at ordinary
times.

How beautiful Broomfield must be at this moment !
Even here the lilacs and hawthorn are in bloom in warm
situations. I imagine myself roaming through the shrub-
bery with you and the little ones; and indeed 1 have
joined you in spirit several times to-day, and have hoped
we were applying together at the throne of grace. How
merciful and gracious God is to me ! Surely the uni-
versal kindness which I experience, is to be regarded as
a singular instance of the goodness of the Almighty.
Indeed no one has so much cause to adopt the declara-
tion, that goodness and mercy have followed me all my
days. I bless God my mind is calm and serene, and I
can leave the event to Him without anxiety, desiring that
in whatever state I may be placed, I may adorn the doc-
trine of God my Saviour, and do honour to my Christian
profession. But all is uncertain, at least to any human
eye. I must say good-night. May God bless you. Kiss
the babes, and give friendly remembrances to all family
and other friends. If it has been as hot to-day with you
as with us, (the wind east, thermometer 77, in the shade,
about twelve,) you must have suffered greatly. Every
blessing attend you and ours in time and eternity."

After the first few days it was only by great skill in
managing a most unruly audience, that he could ever
gain a hearing. " While Wilberforce was speaking the
other day," writes Mr. Thornton, " the mob of Milton
interrupted him : he was attempting to explain a point
which had been misrepresented ; he endeavoured to be
heard again and again, but the cry against him always
revived. * Print, print,' cried a friend of Wilberforce in
the crowd, ' print what you have to say in a hand-bill,
ami let them read it, since they will not hear you.'
' They read indeed,' cried Wilberforce ; 6 what, do you
suppose that men who make such a noise as those fellows
can read V holding up both his hands; 'no men that make
such noises as those can read, I'll promise you. They
must hear me now, or they'll know nothing about the

1807.

FINAL MAJORITY.

matter.' Immediately there was a fine Yorkshire grin
over some thousand friendly faces."

The poll was kept open for fifteen days, and until the
twelfth he was daily in the full turmoil of this noisy scene.
" Breakfasted daily at the tavern — cold meat at two —
addressed the people at half-past five or six — at half-past
six dined, forty or fifty, and sat with them. Latterly the
people would not hear me, and shameful treatment. On
Sundays allowed to be very quiet, to dine alone, and go
twice to church." His temper of mind in the midst of
this confusion was such as is rarely preserved in the rude
shock of such a contest. " It was necessary," says Mr.
Russel, one of his most active and friendly agents, " that
I should have some private communication with him
every day. I usually put myself in his way therefore
when he came in from the hustings to dress for dinner.
On each day as he entered I perceived that he was re-
peating to himself what seemed the same words : at
length I was able to catch them, and they proved to be
that stanza of Cowper's —

* The calm retreat, the silent shade,

With prayer and praise agree,
And seem by Thy sweet bounty made

For those that follow Thee.' "

Upon the twelfth day of the contest his active labours
were suspended by a violent attack of epidemic disorder,
which confined him to his room during the four days it
still lasted. But though to all the other rumours that of
his being dead was added, his victory was now secure.
From the third day he continued to head the poll, and
the final numbers as declared by the high sheriff were,
for Wilberforce, 11,806, Milton, 11,177, Lascelles, 10,989.

Every nerve had been strained by the two great par-
ties which were opposed to him. "Nothing since the
days of the revolution," says the York Herald, " has ever
presented to the world such a scene as this great countv
for fifteen days and nights. Repose or rest have been
unknown in it, except it was seen in a messenger asleep
upon his post-horse or in his carriage. Every day the

34

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

roads in every direction to and from every remote corner
of the county have been covered with vehicles loaded
with voters; barouches, curricles, gigs, flying wagons,
and military cars with eight horses, crowded sometimes
with forty voters, have been scouring the country, leaving
not the slightest chance for the quiet traveller to urge
his humble journey, or find a chair at an inn to sit down
upon."

The mode in which the expenses of his contest were
defrayed was not less remarkable than the fact of his
success. When it had lasted little more than a week,
£64,445 had been subscribed ; and much of it from
places with which he had neither political nor personal
connexion. Contributions poured in unasked from Lon-
don, Edinburgh, Birmingham, Colchester, Leicester, and
many other towns. " My exertions," wrote the Rev.
Thomas Robinson of Leicester, " for you in the last
election proceeded not from the partiality of friendship,
but from a strong sense of duty. With contested elec-
tions in this place I never interfere; but yours was an
excepted case; and from your parliamentary conduct
you had an irresistible claim for support, not only upon
the county of York, but upon the kingdom at large."
" Here are the first characters of whom the metropolis
of the world can boast," said one of the West Riding
addresses, " stepping forward not merely with their good
wnshes, but with their purses and their hearts opened.
For a long series of years they have witnessed the par-
liamentary career of our invaluable friend — his manly
eloquence, his astonishing activity, his undaunted perse-
verance, his unexampled disinterestedness — and shall
Yorkshiremen maintain a cold indifference towards him?"
The answer of his own county to this appeal wras one
gratifying feature in his triumph. So great were the
numbers who insisted upon coming at their ov\n charges,
that whilst the joint expenses of his two opponents
amounted to £200,000, the whole charge of bringing to
the poll his great majority was but £28,600. Forty-six
per cent, was returned upon the Yorkshire subscriptions.
Those of the south consisted of two sums of £10,500;

1807.

CONTEST FOR YORKSHIRE.

35

one provisional, which was returned entire ; an<J the
other absolute, of which one-half only was employed.
" Never," says Mr. Wilberforce, " shall I forget the
spontaneous zeal with which numbers of all ranks came
forward, subjecting themselves often to great trouble and
fatigue, coming from considerable distances at their own
expense, with other gratifying marks of attachment and
esteem."

Some of these instances are worth recording. A free-
holder presented himself to vote, whose appearance seem-
ed to imply that the cost of his journey must be an incon-
venient burden to him. The committee therefore pro-
posed to him that they should defray his expenses. This
he instantly declined. When, however, it appeared that
he was a clergyman of very small means, who had tra-
velled (and often on foot) from the farthest corner of the
county, they renewed the same suggestion ; and named
a certain sum, which they pressed him to accept. " Well,
gentlemen," he said at last, " 1 will accept your offer,
and I request you to add that sum in my name to the
subscription for Mr. Wilberforce's expenses."

" How did you come up?" they asked an honest coun-
tryman from the neighbourhood of Rotherham, who had
given Mr. Wilberforce a plumper, and denied having
spent any thing on his journey. "Sure enow I cam
alPd-way ahint Lord Milton's carriage."

"Perhaps it may be thought," says Mr. Wilberforce
in the letter which after the election he addressed to the
free-holders, " that we too much neglected pride, and
pomp, and circumstance; the procession, and the music,
and the streamers, and all the other purchased decora-
tions which catch the vulgar eye. That our more sober
system was recommended to me by economical motives,
I will not deny. This economy may perhaps by some
be thought to be carried too far ; yet when it is recol-
lected that it was not my money, but that of my kind
and public-spirited supporters, which was expended, no
liberal mind will wonder at my having earnestly wished
to be parsimonious. But shall I confess for my friends
as well as for myself, that we acted from the impulse of

So

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

our taste, no less than»from that of our judgment, when
we declined all competition in parade and profusion ?
Our triumph was of a different sort. We may perhaps
have too much indulged our love of simplicity ; but to
our eyes and feelings, the entrance of a set of common
freeholders on their own, and those often not the best,
horses, or riding in their carts and wagons, often equipped
in a style of rustic plainness, was far more gratifying
than the best arranged and most pompous cavalcade."

It is interesting to trace the secret safe-guards which
kept his simplicity of mind untainted amidst such success
and flattery. " Surely," are his private reflections, " it
calls for deep humiliation, and warm acknowledgment,
that God has given me favour with men, that after
guiding me by His providence to that great cause, He
crowned my efforts with success, and obtained for me so
much good-will and credit. Alas, Thou knowest, Lord,
all my failings, errors, infirmities, and negligences in re-
lation to this great cause; but Thou art all goodness and
forbearance towards me. If I do not feel grateful to
Thee, oh how guilty must I be brought in by my own
judgment! But, O Lord, I have found too fatally my
own stupidity; do Thou take charge of me, and tune my
heart to sing Thy praises, and make me wholly Thine."
" When I look back on my parliamentary life, and see
how little, all taken together, I have duly adorned the
doctrine of God my Saviour, I am ashamed and humbled
in the dust ; may any time which remains, Lord, be bet-
ter employed. Meanwhile I come to the cross with all
my sins, negligences, and ignorances, and cast myself on
the free mercy of God in Christ, as my only hope and
refuge. Lord, receive and pardon me, and give me Thy
renewing grace. Oh how inexpressibly valuable are the
promises of Holy Scripture ! Thy ways, O Lord, are
not as our ways ; Thou art infinite in love, as in wisdom,
and in power. O may I never forsake Thee ; guide me,
guard me, purify me, strengthen me, keep me from falling,
and at length present me faultless before the presence of
Thy glory with exceeding joy.

" There is something so stupendously great in the sal-

1807.

SELF-EXAMINATION.

37

vation of God, that when we are enabled to have some
realizing sense of it, one is ready to cry out, * Not unto
me, O Lord, not unto me ; surely I am utterly unworthy
of all Thy goodness and love. So thou art, but Christ is
worthy; and He shall see of the travail of His soul and
shall be satisfied. And all the company of the redeemed,
with the holy angels, and surely with myriads of myriads
of beings, according to their several ranks, and orders,
and faculties, and powers, shall join in adoring the infi-
nite love of the Redeemer, and shall make up the chorus
of that heavenly song, 4 Worthy is the Lamb that was
slain to receive honour, and glory, and blessing,' &c.
Oh may I bear a part in that bright and glad assemblage !
Who will, who among them all can, have more cause
than myself for gratitude and love? Meanwhile may I
prove my gratitude on earth, by giving up myself to Thy
service, and living universally to Thy glory. O Lord,
enable me to be thus wholly Thine."

" O Lord, I humbly hope that it is Thou who knockest
at the door of my heart, who callest forth these more
than usually lively emotions of contrition, desire, faith,
trust, and gratitude. Oh may I hear His voice, and open
the door and let Him in, and be admitted to intercourse
and fellowship ; may I be really a thriving Christian,
bringing forth abundantly the fruits of the Spirit to the
glory of God. O Lord, I am lost in astonishment at thy
mercy and love. That Thou shouldst not only quit the
glory and happiness of heaven to be made man, and bear
the most excruciating torments and bitter degradation for
our deliverance and salvation ; but that Thou still bearest
with us, though we, knowing all Thy goodness, are still
cold and insensible to it. That Thou strivest with our
perverseness, conquerest our opposition, and still waitest
to be gracious; and that it was in the foreknowledge of
this our base ingratitude and stupid perverseness, that
Thou didst perform these miracles oi mercy. That Thou
knevvest me, and my hardness, and coldness, and unwor-
thy return for all Thy goodness, when Thou calledst me
from the giddy throng, and shone into my heart with the
light of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ. O

VOL. II. 4

S3

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1807.

well may we exclaim, 4 Thy ways are not as our ways,
nor Thy thoughts as our thoughts ; but as the heavens
are higher than the earth, so are Thy ways higher than
our ways, and Thy thoughts than our thoughts.' O Lord,
I cast myself before Thee, O spurn me not from Thee;
unworthy, though I am, of all Thy wonderful goodness. . .
O grant me more and more of humility, and love and
faith, and hope, and longing for a complete renewal into
Thine image. Lord help me and hear me. I come to
Thee as my only Saviour. O be Thou my help, my
strength, my peace, and joy, and consolation ; my Alpha
and Omega ; my all in all. Amen."

" I have far too little thought of the dangers of great
wealth, or rather of such affluence and rank in life as
mine. O my soul, bethink thee of it; and at the same
time bless God who has given thee some little knowledge
of the way of salvation. How little also have I borne
in mind that we are to be pilgrims and strangers on the
earth ! This impression can be kept up in those who
are in such a state of prosperity and comfort as myself,
by much prayer and meditation, and by striving habit-
ually to walk by faith and to have my conversation in
heaven." "O Lord, direct me to some new line of use-
fulness, for Thy glory, and the good of my fellow-crea-
tures. I have been thinking of lessening the number of
oaths."

CHAPTER II.

Illness — East Indian Missions — Sunday Travelling — Hannah More's
Ccelebs — Summer Retreat and Occupations.

The meeting of the new parliament, which took place
early in June, found him at his post, and he continued his
attendance until its prorogation in August; and after a
short sojourn at Brighton he returned to Broonifield,

1807.

ILLNESS.

39

where he devoted himself to efforts to promote the Abo-
lilion of the Slave Trade by foreign powers. He also
took an active interest in the condition of the Hindoos.
In a letter to the Rev. F. Wrangham, of the 20th No-
vember of this year, he says, " I frankly declare that our
suffering our East India subjects, nay tenants, for such
they are, to remain without any effort to the contrary,
under the most depraving and cruel system of supersti-
tion which ever enslaved a people is, considering all our
blessings, the greatest by far, now that the Slave Trade
has ceased, of all the national crimes by which we are
provoking the vengeance and suffering the chastisement
of Heaven."

In the middle of December he had a sudden attack of
dangerous illness. " Dec. 20th. A good deal of pain in
my side, and my breath much affected. 22d. Pitcairne
called and bled me — thought the complaint very serious —
inflammation on the lungs — the last I should have feared.
How are wTe reminded of our continual dependence upon
God ! 23d. Better, I thank God, but still in a ticklish
state. 25th. Surprisingly recovered, I thank God."
This amendment continued without any check; and
upon the first day of the new year, he acknowledges
" the great mercies I have received of the Lord. How
good has God been to me in recovering me so rapidly
from a very dangerous disease, and during the course of
it, preserving me from any great suffering, and giving
me every possible help and comfort ! My dear kind
friend the Dean came up to us. My servant very
obliging. Pitcairne very kind and attentive, and my
dearest wife all tenderness and assiduity. I was taken
ill on the 18th of December, and though not yet down
stairs, I am almost myself again. O Lord, bless to me
this dispensation ! Cause me to live in a more practical
sense of the shortness and uncertainty of all human things;
and oh bring my soul, more effectually than ever hither-
to, to God in Christ, and give me a large measure of Thy
Spirit. May I be enabled to live by faith above the
world, looking for a better country, with my heart su-
premely set on it. O Lord, I know too well my own

10

LIFE OF WILBER FORCE.

1808.

weakness, but Thou canst strengthen the weakest, and
hast promised that Thou wilt, if we earnestly pray to
Thee. Lord, be with me, and strengthen me. Enable
me to maintain a closer walk with Thee ; and while I
live a life of faith and hope, having my affections set on
things above, may I discharge the duties of my station,
so as to let my light shine before men, and adorn the
doctrine of God my Saviour in all things. Amen and
Amen."

Amongst the memoranda of a day " set apart" shortly
afterwards, the meeting of parliament being at hand, "for
prayer and meditation and other religious exercises, with
moderation in food," after acknowledging "God's mercy
in his late recovery from sickness," he prays "above all
for the love of God and my Redeemer, that this blessed
principle may be like the mainspring of the machine,
prompting all the movements, and diffusing its practical
influence through every disposition, action, plan, and
design. And (if it be consistent with the Divine will,)
for a more assured hope of the favour of God and Christ.
May the God of hope fill me with all joy and peace in
believing, O Lord, do Thou break, soften, quicken,
warm my cold heart ; and teach me to feel an overflow-
ing love and gratitude, or rather a deep and grateful
sense of obligation, not as a transient effusion, but as the
settled temper and disposition, the practical habit of my
soul: that so I may here begin the song of praise, to be
sung with more purified and warmed affections in heaven.
Worthy is the Lamb ; and blessing, honour, glory, and
power, &c."

On the subject of the East Indian Missions, he wrote

TO W. HEY, ESQ.

" Near London, Feb. 5, 1808.
# * # # _ # #

" You must have collected from the pamphlets that
have been advertised, that the subject of East Indian
missions has been interesting the public mind ; but possi-

1808.

EAST INDIAX AFFAIRS.

11

bly you may not have heard how active and earnest
4 the enemy' has been (in writing to you 1 may call things
by their true names) in stirring up opposition to any en-
deavours for diffusing Christian instruction throughout
our East Indian empire. A motion has been made in
the Court of Directors by one of the most able, ex-
perienced, wealthy, and well-connected members of their
body; the effect of which would have been to bring
home all the missionaries, to recall Buchanan by name
as a culprit, and to prohibit the circulation or even trans-
lation of the Scriptures. The Court seemed in general
but too well-disposed to such proceedings, but the most
strenuous efforts were made by Mr. Grant and Mr. Parry,
Lord Teignmouth and others, and happily the first at-
tempt was defeated by a considerable majority ; and we
hope that, though it is dreadful to think what is the gene-
ral opinion and feeling of the bulk of the higher orders
on this whole subject, we shall be able to resist all the
endeavours that are used to bar out the light of truth
from those our benighted fellow-subjects. Mr. Perceval
has stood our friend, — Buonaparte, by all accounts, is
preparing on a great scale for an expedition to the East ;
and should this country use the powers of its govern-
ment for the avowed purpose of shutting the Scriptures
out of our Indian empire, how could we hope that God
would not employ his French army in breaking down
the barriers we had vainly and wickedly been rearing,
and thus open a passage by which Christian light might
shine upon that darkened land. The Dean's warnings
have kept me out of town hitherto, but on Monday next
I hope to return to London, and to attend parliament.
Farewell, my dear sir.

I am yours most sincerely,

VV. WlLBERFORCE."

He now resumed his attendance at the M House almost
every night," where he complains of the 44 debates" as
44 poor compared with former times; yet Perceval im-
proved, and Canning extremely clever."

44 Much worried, many committees. East Indian —
4*

42

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1808.

lottery — woollen committees. Friends at dinner before
House. Letters." 4Mlth. To town. Proclamation
Society about Smithfield market. 14th. Heard that
Danish Davis's Strait* settlers had not been attended to,
and talked with Pole and Gambier about them. Was to
dine at Broomfield, but stopped in town, and drove to
Shadwell dock, Col. Mellish, about them." For a month
he steadily renewed these applications, and at last suc-
ceeded in procuring the despatch of vessels on this work
of mercy. Upon the 5th of May the 44 House" was
44 again on Maynooth business, and very hot and violent
even to bitterness. I spoke — I hope not violently, but,
alas ! much bitterness in many. I reproached for Me-
thodism. My own final judgment not made up on the
Catholic Question — I strongly incline to their coming
into parliament, though not to their seeing with other
men's (priest's) eyes."

44 May 28th. Catholic Question. Grattan's speech
excellent and temperate. I spoke, and though abstain-
ing from all reflections on popery, and arguing the ques-
tion on grounds of time and circumstances, I was ex-
tremely abused." 44 We have had a very long and most
unpleasant debate," he writes the next day. 44 It is
grievous to see that we are only nominally a Protestant
people." 44 Alas, they are driving the Roman Catholics
to rebellion. How mad to be thus stimulating them, by
telling them they are enslaved and oppressed ! It is ir-
religion and immorality of which Ireland is sick. These
popery has increased and fomented."

Business meanwhile was increasing on his hands.
Private cases abounded. Clients of every kind crowded
his ante-room and breakfast table; and friends flocked
round him at all hours, and assembled daily at his easy
and hospitable dinner. The parliamentary attendance
was 44 the most severe" he 44 ever knew ;" so that though
44 the country was exquisitely beautiful in the first burst
of spring, or rather summer," he 44 never got to Broom-

* They consisted principally of GreenJanders under the charge of the
Moravian brethren, and depended for sustenance on supplies from
Europe.

1808.

SPANISH PATRIOTS.

43

field, being often absent from" his " family from Monday
morning to Saturday night, or even Sunday morning."
In truth he was ever watching at his post, the ready sup-
porter, both in and out of parliament, of every moral
and religious question. Every morning he was at "the
Smithfield Market Committee, in the hope of altering
the Monday market," though the "room was hot" and
" little done. Parties so strong — ours most respectable,
theirs far most numerous ; so much so that painful to
persevere, but we must please God, and assert His
cause." " Shattered from a bad night, from being un-
easy at not having reprobated M. A. Taylor's shameless
declaration, * that interest alone to be our guide, not
right or justice.' The House only laughed, and he mis-
took it. I was over-persuaded, but I deeply repented,
and still am sorry."

The eyes of Europe were now fixed upon the Spanish
patriots, who promised an effectual resistance to the
modern " scourge of God." "Sheridan would, against
the advice of all the opposition friends, electrify the coun-
try on the Spanish business. He came down to the
House, but the opportunity being delayed, he going up-
stairs got so drunk, as to make him manifestly and dis-
gracefully besotted. Yet he seemed to remember a fair
speech, for the topics were good; only he was like a
man catching through a thick medium at the objects
before him. Alas, a most humiliating spectacle ; yet the
papers state him to have made a brilliant speech, &c."

On this subject he wrote from East-Bourne, where he
had fixed his summer quarters.

" East-Bourne, July 19, 1808.

My dear Muncaster,

How many a mile are we now separated ! yet, in con-
firmation of Cowper's beautiful line, * How fleet is a
glance of the mind !' in a moment I can fly on the wings
of imagination, from the shore of the Channel to Julius
Caesar's old castle in Eskdale. It seems shamefully long
since I wrote to you, but you have kindly let me know
of your goings-on, for which I thank you.

44

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1808.

" What an extraordinary spectacle is now exhibiting
in Spain! Surely Buonaparte would not have proceeded
as he has done, if he had not been absolutely intoxicated
by his prosperity. To publish to the world that Joseph
Buonaparte was to be King, and his children in here-
ditary succession to succeed to the crown after his
death ; and failing his issue, Louis and his heirs ; and
failing Louis, Jerome and his heirs : and failing all these,
to revert to us, Napoleon ! Surely this is so heaping in-
sult on injury, that he might have foreseen that human
nature would scarcely bear it. I have often thought
that it might perhaps please God to pull down this giant
when raised to his highest elevation, and apparently
glorying the most reasonably, as well as most proudly,
in his strength. Do you recollect the chapter in Isaiah,
in which the prophet introduces the King of Assyria as
at first boasting of his victories, and after having been
reminded that he was but an instrument in the hand of
the Almighty, he is represented as brought down to the
pit amid contempt and derision. Lowth, I remember,
justly states it to be, for its length, the finest poem almost
in existence."

He was the more deeply interested in the success of
the Spanish arms from its apparent bearing on the cause
of Abolition. These hopes he soon expressed to Mr.
Stephen.

" My dear Stephen,

Just at present the Spanish patriots must necessarily
be wholly engrossed by the exigencies of their own situa-
tion, but doubtless they are precisely in the circum-
stances in which, if it please God they succeed, (and
may the Almighty favour them,) that generous temper
of mind will be produced, which will abhor oppression
and cruelty, consequently will abolish the Slave Trade.
And surely we ought to be immediately taking all pro-
per preparatory measures for diffusing information on
the subject. Such prospects open to my view when 1
look around on both sides of the Atlantic, as quite to en-

1808.

SCHOOLS IN CEYLON.

45

rapture me. To the fertile soil of your mind let me
commit the seed of this idea, and let me earnestly con-
jure you to give it immediate attention. Many of the
priests appear to have joined the popular cause in Spain ;
probably, therefore, also, in Portugal. They may, per-
haps, be worked on by the double motives of the spirit
of liberty and of religion, to exert themselves for so
glorious an object as ours. I will immediately write to
Canning, desiring him to mention the subject to the Spa-
nish deputies. Do you desire Perceval to do the same.
I have an idea, also, of writing to Lord Holland, as well
as to Brougham, whom we ought here to carry along
with us, for his knowledge of Portugal people, &c. render
him capable of being a useful ally. Farewell.

I am ever yours,

W. WlLBER FORCE."

At East-Bourne he had escaped the crowd of visiters
who dogged his Broomfield hours, and he rejoiced in
being able to associate freely with his family, and find
some time for meditation and for study. But one great
hinderance still remained. His letters still followed,
pouring in upon him in multitudes. "They are become
an unspeakable plague to me. They form my chief oc-
cupation, and I must contrive some means of lessening
the time spent on them ; for there is no acquisition of
knowledge, no exercise or improvement of talents." Yet
he was as far as possible from cultivating an idle and
unmeaning correspondence. In trulh, like his open
house, and broken London mornings, it sprung of neces-
sity from his peculiar situation. Without his letters he
could not have been for years the advocate of every mo-
ral and religious cause ; the friend and counsellor of all
who were in need of counsel: the very Attorney-Gene-
ral of the unprotected and the friendless.

With " inconceivable sorrow" he heard just at this
time " of all the schoolmasters being dismissed in Cey-
lon. We are to save only about £1500 by what is the
moral and religious ruin of the island. O Lord, how
deeply do we provoke Thy resentment! Yet have

46

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1808.

mercy on us, and spare us, much as we deserve punish-
ment. I have had some intercourse with Lord Castle-
reagh about it." Happily he did not remonstrate fruit-
lessly; some of the old schools were restored, and the
place of others supplied by new institutions.

East-Bourne was his head quarters until the 19th of
November, when he took possession of a new house at
Kensington Gore, of which he had bought a twenty-five
years' lease in the preceding spring. It was not without
" great regret that" he " gave up Broomfield, a place
endeared to" him " by much happiness enjoyed in it, as
well as by its own beauty. I give up also the living
near my friends in this circle; yet I trust my connexion
with them is so firm that the removal will not weaken
it." The Dean of Carlisle suggested another incidental
benefit, pointing out to him " a danger in living altogether
at Clapham — danger of conceit and spiritual pride, and
a cold, critical spirit. He imputes this less to me than
to some others — but the danger great." Upon the whole,
he thought " the change of residence best — may God
bless it — I trust that it is made on grounds of which He
approves." The distance of Broomfield made a London
house essential to his parliamentary attendance, and
separated him almost entirely from his family. By set-
tling within a mile of Hyde Park Corner, he hoped to be
much oftener with them; and by the exchange of " the
old house in Palace Yard," for " lodgings on the Terrace,
(for I must have a nest close to the House of Commons,)"
he hoped to promote that economy by which he still kept
up his ample charities.

These ends were in a measure answered. As long,
indeed, as he sat for Yorkshire, and actively " repre-
sented a tenth part of England," he was often kept
throughout the week at his lodgings in Westminster.
Yet upon the whole he was more with his family; and
from the size of his new house was able to exercise, with
greater comfort, the hospitality in which he delighted.
There are still many who remember with no little inte-
rest, the cheerful and enlightened intercourse of the
house and grounds of. Kensington Gore. The house

1808.

PRIVATE DEVOTIONAL EXERCISES.

47

was seldom free from guests when he was in it. The first
hours in the morning were all that he could strictly call
his own, and these were spent In devotional exercises.
64 1 always find that I have most time for business, and
it is best done, when I have most properly observed my
private devotions." 44 In the calmness of the morning,"
was his common observation, 44 before the mind is heated
and wearied by ihe turmoil of the day, you have a sea-
son of unusual importance for communing with God and
with yourself." After this secret intercourse with his
heavenly Father, which cheered and sustained his labo-
rious pilgrimage, he joined his assembled household for
morning prayer — a service which he conducted himself,
and with peculiar interest. With breakfast, which was
thus made somewhat late, began his first throng of
visiters. His ante-room, w7hich still justified abundantly
the witty simile of Hannah More, furnished many break-
fast guests ; and his extraordinary social powers were
never seen to more advantage, than in drawing out and
harmonizing all the shades of character and feeling
which were here brought suddenly together. Thus
whilst he was endeavouring to relax the stiffness of a
44 starched little fellow whom" he 44 was not anxious to
disgust, Andrew Fuller was announced — a man of con-
siderable powers of mind, but who bore about him very
plainly the vestigia ruris. Not a moment was to be
lost. So before he came in I said to my little friend,
'You know Andrew Fuller?' 4 No, I never heard his
name.' 4 Oh then you must know him ; he is an extra-
ordinary man, whose talents have raised him from a
very low situation.' This prepared the way, and An-
drew Fuller did no harm, although he walked in looking
the very picture of a blacksmith."

His household economy abounded in cheerful hospi-
tality, and in the highest charms of conversation and
social intercourse: but there was nothing costly or luxu-
rious in his style of living; these were banished on prin-
ciple, and none of his guests missed them. 44 You can
do what you please," said a friend, who was celebrated
for the excellence of his table; 44 people go to hear you

48

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1808.

talk, not for a good dinner." " I am almost ashamed,"
was the thankful simplicity of his own remark when
first entering Kensington Gore, 44 of the handsomeness of
my house, my veranda, &c." " I am almost uneasy
about my house and furniture, lest 1 am spending too
much money upon it, so as to curtail my charities."
The very next entry is a good commentary on this cha-
racteristic fear. " E. forced his way in to see me — the
poor midshipman who about eight months ago wrote to
me from Morpeth jail, at the suit of a tailor for uniform,
whom I got released, and sent him a few pounds. He
called to thank me, and said he should never forget my
kindness — not ashamed of it ; and would subscribe five
pounds per annum to Small Debt Society. Eat yester-
day a turkey, sent me by the person whom I helped to
recover a landed estate of three or four hundred pounds
per annum."

He was at this time meditating a trip to Bath, and
wrote to Mr. Perceval to ascertain the day of meeting.
" Parliament," was the reply, " will not meet unless
something unforeseen at present should occur, until
Monday the 16th of January. I hope therefore you will
lose no time in getting your health well set up at Bath."
His watchfulness for public morals at once suggested to
him the amount of Sunday travelling which such a day
of meeting would create; and he begged in answer, that
it might, if possible, be altered.

" I thank you for your note of yesterday, rejoined the
conscientious minister, "and am really sorry that I have
given occasion for it. I feel myself the more to blame,
because, upon the receipt of your note, it brought back
to my recollection (what I had till then forgot) some
observations w hich the Speaker made to me some time
ago upon the same subject; if they had been present to
my mind when we settled the meeting of parliament, I
would not have fixed it upon a Monday. We were,
however, almost driven into that day."

Two days later he wrote again.

1809.

LETTER TO HANNAH MORE.

49

" Downing Street, Dec. 10, 1808.

" Dear Wilberforce,

You will be glad to hear that it is determined to post-
pone the meeting of parliament till Thursday the 19th,
instead of Monday the 16th, to obviate the objections
which you have suggested to the meeting on that day.

Yours very truly,

Spencer Perceval."

" The House," says his Diary, 44 put off nobly by Per-
ceval, because of the Sunday travelling it would have
occasioned."

The leisure of the Christmas holidays left him time to
look at Coelebs, w7hich had just appeared. None of
Hannah More's usual confidants had been let this time
into the secret, and no rumour had betrayed its author.
" Coelebs," says his Diary, 44 variously talked of. The
Henry Thorntons affirm that it cannot be Hannah
More's, and are strong against it, surely without reason."
His critical discernment was more faithful. 44 Reading
Coelebs in the afternoon, and much pleased with it ; it is
Hannah More's all over."

" Kensington Gore, Jan. 7, 1809.

44 My dear Friend,

' What! did I not know thy old ward, Hal?' I had
not read ten pages before I was reminded of aut Eras-
mus, &c. And without paying you any compliments, I
may say, that it is a piece in my judgment, of which you,
even you, with all your well-earned and well-merited
credit, need not be ashamed ; on the contrary, I really
am delighted with it, and have been kept up night after
night reading it after supper. I hope too, which will
please you better, that it will do as much good, as such
a composition, from its very nature, and from the state
of mind it necessarily generates, can do. It will, I trust,
draw on to other and more serious studies. It will
accredit true religion and its ministers, and its consistent
professors. It will—but I must break off. I am come
too late from London, and have to prepare for a large

VOL. II. 5

50

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1809.

party to dinner, preceded by a consultation on a matter
of great importance to a friend."

It was with great anxiety he looked forward to the
ensuing session of parliament, in which not only the
foreign policy of the country, which would, he feared,
" bring on war with America," was to be discussed, but
the conduct of the Duke of York was to be made the
subject of examinations of a character from which he
shrunk in anticipation, and by which he was sickened
and disgusted while in progress. With his usual inde-
pendence of mind he pursued a course which drew upon
him the increased hostility of the king and royal family
— having not only voted against the ministry, but spoken
on the subject.

In the midst of great political contentions, the morning
of the 3d of May presented to him a more grateful sight.
His views in joining the Bible Society have been ex-
plained already; and giving others credit for that pure
spirit with which he was animated, he saw in its anni-
versary a " grand" and pleasing spectacle — " five or six
hundred people of all sects and parties, with one heart,
and face, and tongue." But this was only a moment's
calm amidst the troubled scenes in which he was com-
pelled to take an active part. " I want more time for
reflection, and consideration of political subjects. The
times are highly alarming. The Duke of York's affair,
and parliament's conduct in it, has infused a general
jealousy of public men. The House of Commons has
lost the public confidence ; there is no man of such talents
as to take the ascendancy like Pitt or Fox. It would
be worse to try to stifle inquiry than to prosecute it.
Yet I see the people may be inflamed to madness, or at
least to the most mischievous excesses and measures.
Oh may He who rides in the whirlwind direct the storm
for our good !"

During the year 1808-9, he took an active part in the
discussion of the various matters which were brought
before parliament. At one time provoking the ill-will
of the King and royal family by opposing the wishes of

1809.

SUMMER RETREAT.

51

the Duke of York, and at another thwarting the views of
ministry with the entire fearlessness of honest indepen-
dence. Wishing to spend the summer of 1809 in quiet-
ness, the offer of a quiet parsonage near Cowper's haunts
fell in exactly with all his inclinations. "I always ob-
serve," he would often say, " that the owners of your
grand houses have some snug corner in which they are
glad to shelter themselves from their own magnificence.
I remember dining when I was a young man, with the
Duke of Queensbury, at his Richmond villa. The party
was very small and select — Pitt, Lord and Lady Chat-
ham, the Duchess of Gordon, and George Selwyn, (who
lived for society, and continued in it, till he looked really
like the wax-work figure of a corpse) were amongst the
guests. We dined early that some of our party might
be ready to attend the opera. The dinner was sumptu-
ous, the views from the villa quite enchanting, and the
Thames in all its glory — but the Duke looked on with
indifference. 'What is there,' he said, 'to make so much
of in the Thames — I am quite tired of it — there it goes,
flow, flow, flow, always the same.' " " What a blessing
it is," remarks Mr. Wilberforce, this summer, on meeting
an acquaintance who could notabe happy out of London,
" to have a taste for simple and virtuous pleasures ! Re-
ligion gives this, but some have it naturally." He pos-
sessed it strongly, and enjoyed, therefore, exceedingly
this 44 Cowperizing summer."

To Lord Muncaster he thus communicates the place
of his retirement.

" Near Newport Pagnell, Sept. 1809.

" My dear Muncaster,

And where is Wilber? I hear you saying. Near

Newport Pagnell ! Out comes Gary, and the inventive
genius and geographical knowledge of the young ones
are set to work ; but 1 defy you all. The truth is, I had
been long looking round for a ready-furnished house for
a few weeks. Not being able to find one, I carried my
household to our old quarters at East-Bourne, and there
1 should have been glad to continue till November, but

52

LIFE OF WILEERFORCE.

1809.

for its being so fully peopled that I could not walk out
without being joined by people, my only connexion with
whom arose from our inhabiting different numbers in
the same row. I wished to pass a little time as much
as possible with my family, of whom I literally see
scarcely any thing during the whole session of parlia-
ment. Really too, though summer by the calendar, it
has been so like winter by the weather, as to prompt me
rather to look for some snug hiding-place, than to bask,
without sunshine, on an open shore. I therefore am
come inland, calling first to spend a day with the Speaker,
whom I left contrary alike to our own feelings, and his
kind pressing to stay; and then halting for five or six
days with Henry Thornton, where I carried Mrs. Wil-
berforce and my six children to the same house in which
were now contained his own wife and eight ; but which
he and I once inhabited as chums for several years,
when we were solitary bachelors. How naturally I
was led to adopt the old patriarch's declaration. With
my staff 1 passed over, &c. and now I am become two
bands ! Thence we -came to this place, where I inhabit
the house of a friend, who having failed in his attempt
to hire one ready furnished in the neighbourhood, has
kindly lent me his own. It is the parsonage, and he oc-
cupies the house of the curate, who is now serving
another church, and whom I provide with a temporary
residence.

I must own that from my earliest days, at least my
earliest travelling days, I never passed a parsonage in at
all a pretty village, without my mouth watering to reside
in it. And this longing has been still more powerful
since the only objection, that of solitude, has been re-
moved, by my bringing my own society along with me.
The best of this place is, that though the immediate
neighbourhood has no other beauties than those of peace-
ful rural scenery, yet we are near the scene of Cowper's
rambles; and, devoted as I am to Cowper, the idea of
treading in his track is not a little delightful. It is quite
classic ground to me, and I shall read both his prose and
his verse here with a double relish. I have once al-

1809.

COUNTRY LIFE.

53

ready, (but the day was bad, and I mean to do it again,)
carried some cold meat to a venerable old oak, to which
he was strongly attached. I have been to see Stowe
with my charming young friend Bowdler, whom I think
I introduced to you in London ; if not, I have yet to in-
troduce you to a man who will one day I think make a
figure. How much was I impressed with the idea of
grandeur's not being necessary to happiness !

My dear Muncaster, I wish we were within talking
distance, I should have much both to say and to hear,
but unless I had more time at command I feel no com-
fort in beginning upon political subjects. Oh ! it is a
gloomy sky, but there is a Sun behind the clouds. In
one particular I quite agree with you, in ascribing all
the great events which are taking place to a higher hand.
Indeed He is always the supreme Agent, but there are
times, and this seems to be one of them, when His arm
is lifted up, and His hand displayed with more than com-
mon plainness. This consideration administers the great-
est comfort to my mind. For being persuaded that there
are many among us who still love, and fear, and serve
the great Governor of the universe, I cannot but hope
that, though justly deserving the vengeance, we shall
experience still the mercy of Heaven. *
Believe me ever, my dear Muncaster,
Yours most sincerely,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

Legh Richmond's neighbouring parsonage supplied a
piano forte; and "music generally in the evening" was
added to the other sources of his pleasure. Here he
thoroughly enjoyed himself. Mr. Richmond was almost
his only neighbour, and him he occasionally met with
freedom and pleasure. " Dined at Richmond's. His old
mother there. It is just twelve years since he became
serious from reading my book on Christianity, lent him
by a brother divine, who said, 4 1 am no reader,' and
begged him to run it over, as he did in three days. He
showed it me in the original cover." This naturally
added to the pleasure which he always felt in seeing the

5*

54

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1809.

interior of a well-ordered parish. He attended with de-
light at a cottage reading, amongst many of " the peo-
ple in their common working-clothes;" and he adds that
" Richmond, who is a most affectionate, warm-hearted
creature, has made great way in Turvey. Every body
favours him, and God has greatly blessed his preaching."
"Of Olney I hear but a very melancholy account. It
is indeed an awful instance of mercies slighted and pri-
vileges abused. I suspect also from what I have heard,
that some of the former ministers of the place, like my
excellent friend Mr. Newton, not being quite enough on
their guard respecting dissenting, and Dissenters, has
been not unproductive of evil."

In this unusual quiet, " reading much, correcting the
Practical View for a new edition, and much with" his
" family," the weeks passed happily away. " Oh what a
blessing it is to be living thus in peace! Surely no one
has so much reason to say, that goodness and mercy
have followed me all the days of my life. Never was
any one so exempted from suffering, so favoured with
comforts. Oh that I were more grateful !"

Mr. John Bowdler's sketch of this time of peaceful
harmony is so happily expressed, that though it has ap-
peared in print already, it will be read again with
pleasure.

" I arrived here last Saturday morning at breakfast-
time, having been kept by Mr. Wilberforce much longer
than I intended; but he is like the old man in Sinbad's
Voyage — wo be to the traveller that falls into his grasp!
It required a considerable effort to disengage myself,
and I have promised another short visit on my return,
which will be greatly to my inconvenience and delight.
Mr. Wilberforce, I think, enjoys his parsonage as much
as possible; to say that he is happier than usual is being
very bold ; but certainly he is as happy as I ever beheld
a human being. He carried me one day to Weston, and
we wandered over many a spot which Cowper's feet
had trod, and gazed on the scenes which his pen had
immortalized. On another day we visited Stowe — 'a
work to wonder at,' for we were still in the land of po-

1809.

JOURNAL.

55

etry and of music too, for Mr. Wilberforce made the
shades resound to his voice, singing like a blackbird
wherever he went. He always has the spirits of a boy,
but" here "not little Sam himself can beat him, though
he does his best."

u Yet this was no season of indolent recreation or
mere idle enjoyment. Whilst he thanked God for " this
wholesome retirement," he was most anxious to turn it
to the best account. " O Lord," he prays, " direct and
guide me, so as to make my residence here a blessing to
me." And he watched as well as prayed. " Laying out"
his " plans so as to secure time for evening devotions,
emptying" his " mind of business and literature ;" exa-
mining himself whether his " mind had wandered whilst
reading the responses or the psalms in church, or during
the singing of praises to God ;" and reminding himself,
" that if here I find not my mind ungovernable, yet that
this is a most favourable situation: all about me favour-
able to holiness, except that I commonly find literature
more seductive than any thing. I should then be striving
for the habit of heavenly-mindedness, that I may main-
tain it in more worldly scenes and societies." Here
therefore, as well as in the crowded life of London, he
could exclaim upon his Sundays, "O blessed days these,
which call us from the bustle of life, and warrant us in
giving up our studies and our business, and cultivating
communion with God."

Some days too he set apart in this season of retire-
ment for more entire devotion to religious offices; and
then, with such a measure of abstinence as his strength
allowed, he gave the day to prayer and meditation.
Deep at these times was his unfeigned humiliation, as he
searched out before God all the suspected corners of his
heart, condemning himself — for " selfishness, though I do
not pass for selfish, and am not allowed to be so ; Lord,
increase my love to others'' — for " ambition, or rather
worldliness, but ill cured, often bubbling up and breaking
out, though my judgment I trust does not allow them,
and though I am ashamed of them" — for " want of love,
of real caring for my fellow creatures" — for "want of

56

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1809.

delighting in God. Alas ! can I say that I find more
pleasure in religious meditation than in literature, which
always presents itself to my mind as an object of gratifica-
tion?' Then too would he note down the remembered sins
of long past years, feeling he had gained his end when he
could add, "How does this review, in which my own
mind fixes on specific objects, shame me ! How should
I be ashamed if others could see me just as I really am !
I often think I am one grand imposture. My heart is
heavy ; oh, there is nothing that can speak peace to the
wounded spirit, but the gospel promises — and the pro-
mise is sure. God is love ; and is able to save to the
uttermost, and he will cast out none who come to him.
He it is I trust who has excited in me a disposition to
come, and I will therefore press forward, humbly indeed,
but trusting to His mercy who has promised so many
blessings to them that seek Him. O Lord, yet strengthen
me, and, if it please Thee, fill me with all peace and joy
in the Holy Ghost. Amen."

At times too there are bursts of more than ordinary
joy. " I humbly hope that 1 have felt this day, and still
feel, somewhat of the powers of the world to come. I
feel indeed the deepest sense of my own sinfulness ; but
blessed be God for His gracious promises. To Thee, O
Lord, I humbly devote myself ; O confirm me to the end.
Make me perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle me. O
prasclarum ilium diem." " What cause have I for
thankfulness ! Which way soever I look I am heaped
up with blessings, mercies of all sorts and sizes. I wish
not to spend time in writing, but, oh let me record the
loving-kindness of the Lord."

In the midst of this life of quiet, his ordinary political
cares startle us with their unwonted sound. " I opened
the papers this morning to see if there is any confirma-
tion of Buonaparte's madness ; for I cannot but think it
conformable to the providence of God, to manifest thus
His ability in a moment to pull down the lofty from his
vain-glorious throne, to confound the wisdom of the
politic and the plans of the crafty. Lord Oastlereagh and
Canning fought a duel early on Thursday morning.

1809.

PRIVATE CONDUCT.

57

What a humiliating thing it is ! In what a spirit must
our national counsellors have been deliberating !"

A letter to Mr. Bankes, written on the second of Oc-
tober, turns upon these subjects.

" Then this strange hurricane of the elements of the
administration. Could you have conceived any men's
being so absurd, to say nothing of higher motives, as to
make the public exhibition afforded by Castlereagh and
Canning. I can only account for it in the former, to
whom as the challenger it is nine parts in ten most pro-
bably to be ascribed, by his Irish education and habits.
Manent adhuc vestigia ruris. I wish the King would
declare that neither of them should ever serve him again
in a public station. That would effectually prevent the
spreading of the example."

Upon the 20th of November, his Buckinghamshire
quarters were again exchanged for the neighbourhood
of London.

He could not long be quiet within a mile of Hyde
Park Corner. "Dined with Perceval; who very kind
and good-natured ; and pleased me more than ever be-
fore by his speech about not exciting a spirit against
America." " My time," he tells Mr. Bankes, " was
never more fully occupied when parliament was not sit-
ting; foreseeing that when , the House should meet, I
must almost renounce all private society, I have been
both giving and receiving a most unusual number of
visits." These brought before him a most miscellaneous
set of characters — from "Lord Sidmouth, who dined
tete-a-tete, and much political talk with him," to "a mis-
sionary going to the Namaqua country," and " poor W.
who declared most seriously that he liked spiders better
than my dinner. 6 Spiders are very good food and
looking round the corners of the room, 6 You have no
spiders here,' as much as to say, I would soon convince
you if you had — a singular man — appears a strong pre-
destinarian."

Here, though mixing more freely in society, he did not
forget to watch carefully for the improvement of his
time.

53

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1809.

His high sense of the value of it led him to watch
over his conduct in society ; and though probably un-
rivalled in the happy art of leading conversation to the
most improving topics, yet he was often little satisfied
with his attempts. Thus he says, after giving a "dinner
to Lord N. and I. H. who chatted till late: Lord N. a
strange twist ; I fear the evening was sadly misspent.
No efforts to improve the opportunity and impress them
aright. When in my closet, as now, I feel a sincere de-
sire to do good to others, and to embrace occasions for
it; but, alas! when in society I am too apt to lose the
sense of God's presence, or possess it feebly and faintly,
and I do not try to turn the conversation, and practise
the company regulations which I have made. Lord,
quicken me." " 1 have a vast multiplicity of objects so-
liciting my attention . . . and I seem to myself to be fail-
ing in the discharge of the duties of my several relations,
as member of parliament, as father, and as master. To
Thee, O God, I fly, through the Saviour; enable me to
live more worthy of my holy calling ; to be more useful
and efficient, that my time may not be frittered away un-
profitably to myself and others, but that I really may be of
use in my generation, and adorn the doctrine of God my
Saviour. I long to carry the plan through for lessening the
number of oaths — for reviving the Proclamation Society ;
but I am a poor, helpless creature, Lord, strengthen me."

During the session of parliament, which followed, his
time, attention and feelings were all deeply interested by
the subjects which came before it. Much attached as
he was to Mr. Perceval, he voted against him in all the
stages of the inquiry respecting the ill-fated Walcheren
expedition; and in the case of Sir Francis Burdett, he
opposed his committal to the Tower and spoke in behalf
of a " reprimand." In Sir S. Romilly's Bill for reduction
of Capital Punishments, he was also warmly interested,
and as usual, the various details of the " Slave Trade,"
" Indian affairs," and many objects of charity and pub-
lic usefulness received his support.

From these various employments he was suddenly re-

1S10.

LETTER TO LORD MUNCASTER.

59

moved by an accident, which he describes in a letter to
Lord Muncaster.

" London, June 18, 1810.

" My dear Muncaster,

The kindness which 1 have ever experienced at your
hands assures me, that if you were to hear a loose re-
port of my having been confined up-stairs for a week in
a recumbent posture, you would become very uneasy till
you should receive some authenticated report of my
well-doing. You would, and you will nevertheless laugh
heartily when you hear the whole story : — That playing
at cricket with Mr. Babington, a ball struck my foot
with great violence, and that by the positive injunctions
of my surgeon, I have been ever since sentenced to a
sofa. It will lessen the marvel, and render the tale less
laughable, to hear that my son William was the main
personage in the dramatis personae of the cricket-players,
and I have not played with him at cricket before, for 1
know not how long. But here, as in so many other in-
stances, I have abundant cause for thankfulness to the
good providence of God ; for Mr. Pearson (and there is
not a more able surgeon in London) declares that if the
ball had struck me an inch or too higher, and it is very
uncommon for a ball to come along shaving the ground
as that did, it would almost certainly have broken my
leg."

He much feared that he should not again reach the
House of Commons before the prorogation. "It is a
great disappointment to me ; but I hope it is the indica-
tion of Providence that I am to be quiet." But on the
20th, "having the Sheffield Address, loyal and constitu-
tional, and well signed/- he " resolved to present it," and
so was carried to the door of the House, and limped to
the Treasury Bench. " I had prepared myself for a speech
of an hour of closing advice, and useful parting admo-
nition, but there not being above forty or fifty members,
and as the appearance would evidently have been that
of going cold-bloodedly to make a formal speech, I had

60

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1810.

not nerves for it; yet wishing to say something, I could
not abridge well." One object of this parting speech
was to enforce the reasons by which he had been led a
month before to vote for Mr. Brand's motion on Parlia-
mentary Reform.

On the question of Reform in Parliament, he complains
this spring : " All seems quiet now, but how little are
men aware of the real dangers of the country ! How
little do they look forward to our probable state fifteen
or twenty years hence !" His words seem almost pro-
phetic of that storm of political excitement, in the midst
of which the Reform Bill was at length carried through.
How full may be their accomplishment, our children will
best know.

CHAPTER III.

Domestic Character — King's Illness — Feelings towards Dissenters — War
with America — Correspondence with S. Roberts, Esq.

The garden at Kensington Gore was one of his great
sources of pleasure, when his time was at his own
command. During the sitting of parliament, he could
" never get there sufficiently early, or stay there in the
morning long enough, to witness the progress of the
spring; but now that he had somewhat more leisure,
whenever the weather made it possible, he sat long, both
writing and with his books, under a spreading walnut-
tree, which was known amongst his children as his study.
" Pretty quiet to-day — went out and sat under walnut-
tree, where nowT writing. I should like much to stay in
this sweet place, amidst my books, if 1 could be quiet."
"We are just one mile," he tells an American corre-
spondent,* "from the turnpike-gate at Hyde Park Corner,

* The Hon. John Jay.

1810.

SUMMER RETIREMENT.

Gl

which I think you will not have forgotten yet, having
about three acres of pleasure-ground around my house,
or rather behind it, and several old trees, walnut and
mulberry, of thick foliage. I can sit and read under
their shade, which 1 delight in doing, with as much ad-
miration of the beauties of nature (remembering at the
same time the words of my favourite poet, * Nature is
but a name for an effect, whose cause is God') as if I
were 200 miles from the great city." But in other
respects he was less favourably circumstanced. "My
situation near town produces numerous visiters, and
frequent invitations, difficult and painful to resist."

These interruptions lasted as long as he remained near
London. He longed for greater quiet, and soon after-
wards withdrew into the country; and early in September
took possession of an empty country-house, which the
kindness of a friend had placed at his disposal. His own
was lent at the same time, and he assured its inmates,
" It is a pleasure to me that my house should be of use
to my friends when I am away from it." " I always
feel the more rewarded for the money I spent upon Ken-
sington Gore, when my friends come to it freely, whether
we are present or absent. For those who are occupying
a friend's house in his absence, what so natural as to
have another friend occupying their own? I only beg
you will be in no hurry to quit."

One main purpose of his summer retirement was to
" watch the tempers and dispositions of his children."
" I mean," he tells Mr. Babington, " to make education
my grand object. Pray for me, that I may be able to
succeed. I can truly say I feel my own deficiencies,"
" We are about to quit our pleasant retirement," he tells
Dr. Coulthurst, " pleasant, chiefly because it has been so
retired, where we have been residing for about three
months. This occasional abstraction from the bustle and
turmoil of the world, is highly beneficial to mind, body,
and estate ; and I have had an opportunity of becoming
acquainted with my own children, who, it really is not
exaggeration to declare, seldom get a quiet minute with
me during the sitting of parliament."

VOL. II. 6

62

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1810.

As he had not married until middle life, when he was
most busily engaged in his engrossing duties, this was
literally true. So long as they were infants, he had not
time to seek amusement from them. Even whilst they
were of this age, it made a deep impression on his mind
w7hen one of them beginning to cry as he took him up,
the nurse said naturally by way of explanation, " He
always is afraid of strangers." This he could not suffer
to continue when they grew7 out of mere infancy. During
the session indeed he was so busy, and so much from
home, that he could see little of them through the wreek ;
but Sunday was his own, and he spent it in the midst of
his family. His children, after meeting him at prayers,
went with him to the house of God ; repeating to him in
the carriage hymns or verses, or passages from his fa-
vourite Cowper. Then they walked wTith him in the
garden, and each had the valued privilege of bringing
him a Sunday nosegay, for which the fiowTers of their
little gardens had been hoarded all the week. Then all
dined together, at an early hour, in the midst of cheerful,
yet suitable conversation. " 6 Better,' " was one of his
Sunday common-places, "says the wise man, 'is a
dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and
hatred therewith ;' but, my children, how good is God to
us ! He gives us the stalled ox and love too." Never
was religion seen in a more engaging form than in his
Sunday intercourse with them. A festival air of holy
and rational happiness dwelt continually around him.

But with Sunday ended foi*«*he time the possibility of
domestic life. " While the House is sitting I become
almost a bachelor." When the session was over, and
he had retired in the country, it was his delight to live
amongst his children. His meals were as far as possible
taken with them ; he carried them out with him on little
pleasurable excursions, and joined often in their amuse-
ments. Every day too he read aloud with them, setting
apart some time in the afternoon for lighter and more
entertaining books, (one of these this summer wras the
Arabian Nights,) and selecting one of them to read more
serious works to him while he dressed. Happy was

1810. INTERCOURSE WITH HIS CHILDREN".

63

the young performer who w;as chosen for the office.
The early and quiet intercourse which his dressing-room
afforded drew forth all a father's tenderness, whilst the
reading was continually changed into the most instructive
conversation.

All his efforts were aimed at opening the mind, creating
a spirit of inquiry, and strengthening the powers ; while
he was jealous of such acquirements as yielded an im-
mediate return, and so afforded opportunities for gra-
tifying vanity.

All this time he was watching carefully the indications
of their various character ; and many a remaining entry
of the long-past incidents of childhood, shows how ob-
servant was his eye of things of which he seemed to take

no note. " a heavy-looking child, but showing at

times much thought — used (in fact) in play yesterday
Euclid's axiom, Things that are equal to the same are

equal to one another." " has far more courage

and character than all the other children." " Heard W".
read to me for an hour after dinner one of Miss Edge-
worth's Tales. How entirely free from religion is her mo-
rality, which however stolen from Scripture !" " Stopped

to buy a book, because he was good yesterday —

having much wished to go with the rest ; and though at
first he cried, he almost immediately got the better of it,
and desired (our driving off being a little delayed) to
come and wish me good-bye, which he did with a
cheerful face. This deserves most serious consideration
and suitable treatment."

The practical character of his personal piety was of
the utmost moment in his treatment of his children. He
was always on his guard against forcing their religious
feelings, and shielded them carefully from the poison of
Antinomian teaching. Though he never weakly withheld
any necessary punishment, he did not attempt to dis-
semble the pain which its infliction cost him. " Alas !"

he says at such a time, " grieved me much to-day,

discovering the same utter want of self-government or
self-denial when disappointed of any thing on which he
had set his heart, as he had done before. He behaved

64

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE

1810.

very ill. I talked with him plainly, and set him a punish-
ment. Poor fellow ! it made my heart heavy all the
evening, and indeed ever since. But I hope he will
mend. God will grant much to prayer ; and I humbly
trust it is our object to train him up in the nurture and
admonition of the Lord."

This careful observation of his children's characters,
joined with the most lively tenderness, is beautifully illus-
trated by a paper of directions which he drew up about
this time for the private use of his two sons, who were
now at school together.

BROTHERLY LOVE AND CONDUCT.

" Hints for my dear , to be often read over, with

self-examination.

" h Endeavour to bear in mind, that you will be often

tempted to behave to your brother not so well as

you ought. That you may be on your guard against
all such temptations —

" 2. Recollect, if you can, what the occasions are which
have most commonly led you to behave ill to your
brother, and try to keep them in your memory by
now and then thinking them over; and when such oc-
casions are about to occur, whether at play, in read-
ing, or wherever else, then be doubly on your guard,
and try to lift up your heart in an ejaculation to God,
that you may be enabled to resist the temptation ; and
if you do resist it, lift up your heart again in thanks-
giving.

"3. Remember one season of temptation will always
be, when you are at play, especially where there are

sides, whether you are on the same side as or

not.

"4. Remember it is not sufficient not to be unkind to
your brother; you must be positively kind to all, and
how much more then to a brother !

" 5. Remember you will be under a temptation to resist
unkindly 's disposition to command you. If Christ

1810.

RULES FOR HIS CHILDREN.

65

tells us not to resent little outrages from any one, (see
Matt v. 39, 44,) how much less should you resent his
commanding you ! Though perhaps it may be not
quite right in itself, yet an elder brother has a right
to some influence from being such. See 1 Pet. v. 5.

" 6. Often reflect that you are both children of the same
father and mother; how you have knelt together in
prayer; have played together as children, and have
sat round the same table, on a Sunday, in peace and
love. Place the scene before your mind's eye, and
recollect how happy mamma and I have been to see
you all around us good and happy.

"7. You are not so lively by nature as he is, but be
willing always to oblige him by playing at proper
times, &c, though not disposed of yourself. Nothing
more occurs to me, except, and this both mamma and
I desire to press strongly on you, to desire you to be
on your guard against being out of humour on a little
raillery, and always to laugh at it; nothing shows good
humour more than taking a joke without being fretful
or gloomy.

" May God bless my dearest boy, and enable him to
profit from the above suggestions of his most affectionate
father,

W. WlLBERFORCE."
EROTHERLY LOVE AND CONDUCT.

" Hints for my dear , to be often looked over, with

self-examination.

" 1. Endeavour to bear in mind, that you will be often

tempted to be not so kind to your brother as you

ought to be. That you may be on your guard against
the temptations when they do occur —

"2. Recollect, if you can, what the occasions are which
have most commonly led you to be unkind to your
brother, and keep them in your memory by now and
then thinking them over; and- when such occasions
6*

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1810.

are about to occur again, whether at play, in reading,
or wherever else, then be doubly on your guard, and
lift up your heart in prayer to God, that you may be
enabled to resist the temptation; and if you have been
enabled to get the better of it, lift up your heart to
God again in thanksgiving.

3. Remember one season of temptation will always be,
when you are at play, especially where there are

sides, whether is on your side or on the opposite

side.

4. Remember it is not enough not to be unkind to

. We ought to be positively kind to all, but how

much more so to a brother !

5. Remember you will be tempted to command him too
much. Guard therefore against this temptation.

6. Sometimes reflect that he and you are children of
the same parents. Recollect him a little fat child, and
how we used to kiss his neck and call him Bon. Re-
collect how you have knelt together in prayer with
mamma and me, and how especially on a Sunday,
you have sat round the same table with us in peace
and love. Try to place the scene before the eyes
of your mind, and recollect how happy your mamma
and I have appeared to see you all good and happy
around us.

7. I will specify the times and circumstances in which
you ought to be peculiarly on your guard against be-
having improperly. — When you have done your own
business, or are not inclined to do it, beware of inter-
rupting him in doing his. — When you are with older
companions than yourself, beware of behaving to him
less kindly, or with any thing like arrogance. — When
you are in the highest spirits, having been at play or
from whatever other cause, you are apt to lose your
self-government, and to be out of humour on having
your inclination crossed in any way. Beware in such
circumstances of being unkind to him.

" May God bless my dearest

, and enable him to

1810.

INTEREST IN WEST INDIA SLAVES.

67

profit from the above suggestions of his most affectionate
father,

W. W ILBERFORCE."

These hints afford a fair sample of his mode of
managing his children. He constantly referred them to
the highest principles of action. Education, indeed, when
otherwise conducted, he always looked at with suspicion.
" William Allen," he says shortly afterwards, " and Jo-
seph Fox came about Lancaster's schools to tell me all
about them, and press me to be a vice-president. Heard
Fox's most interesting account." For a fortnight he
was doubtful how to answer this appeal ; but having
fully weighed the question, he " wrote to William Allen
to decline being a committee man, though it gave me
great pain to refuse him; but emulation and vanity are
the vital breath of the system."

All public business was deferred by the illness of the
King, and the continual hopes which were held forth of
his speedy convalescence. " Our beloved old King the
physicians declare is recovering, and they have scarcely
a doubt of his being even speedily well, if his restoration
be not retarded by some of the circumstances which if
he were not a King, he would not experience." " Dec.
9th. The King getting better but with occasional re-
lapses. Perceval said on Thursday, that as well then as
when Thurlow declared him well, and sealed the com-
mission in 1789. I believe it. I remember that it was
then said in private that the King was not quite well."
These hopes were continually deferred, and the exami-
nation of the royal physicians before a committee of the
House of Commons, (of which he was a member,) was
the only public business which engaged him before
Christmas; yet he was fully occupied.

He still manifested the same anxious interest and de-
voted himself with the same untiring zeal to the cause of
Africa as had marked his character during the long
struggle for the abolition of the slave trade. It was with
great pain he heard that no efforts were making for the
improvement of the slaves in the West India Islands, and

68

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1810.

he projected an institution for the religious instruction of
their children, and drew up a memorandum of sub-
jects of action and deliberation for abolitionists em-
bracing no less than thirteen separate heads. All this
required much labour, and he incurred it freely, yet his
zeal for that great cause never led him to neglect any op-
portunity of doing present good. He was just as active
in redressing individual wrongs, just as ready to assist
the distress, and poverty, and friendlessness which sur-
rounded his own doors as to labour in the world's eye
for the ill-used tribes of Africa. This, while it increased
his usefulness, saved him also from that diseased con-
traction of thought and feeling which is so apt to grow
on those who are identified with one pursuit. He was
the very opposite of "Mr. Fantom." The healthy vigour
of benevolent exertion was ever fostered in his mind by
his mingling individual acts of kindness with all his gene-
ral plans. Thus whilst he was " calling upon Perceval,
and discussing with Macaulay, Stephen, Brougham, and
others, about African and West Indian matters," he was
also "off early to London to the War Office about the
boy Nowell, unlawfully recruited;" and finding that Lord
Palmerston had not yet read the minutes of the second
examination, which decisive, he went on " to the Colo-
nial Office about the case of Marsden and a poor wo-
man," getting home at last " too late for dinner ;" and
being " off" again next morning " after breakfast to the
Horse Guards, where talked to Lord Palmerston about
the poor boy," and got the necessary " orders sent down
for his discharge;" and this is only a sample of a multi-
tude of works of mercy in which he was every day en-
gaged. And yet he could say in his most private
entries, "Alas! I feel my uselessness and unprofitable-
ness, but I humbly hope I desire to employ my faculties
so as may be most for God's glory, and my fellow-crea-
tures' benefit." It was this high motive which gave such
uniformity to his conduct. " I hear," says his Diary,
with beautiful simplicity, a few weeks later, "that I am
likely to be popular now amongst the West Riding clo-
thiers, about poor Nowell, the boy falsely enlisted. How

1810.

JOURNAL.

GO

this shows that God can effect whatever He will, by
means the most circuitous and the least looked for. This
might have a great effect in case of an election."

With the new year set in the full tide of public busi-
ness. The King's illness was painfully confirmed, and
the appointment of a regency inevitable. In these cir-
cumstances the mind of Mr. Pitt's friend reverted natu-
rally to the debates of 1788; and to the great actors in
that drama who had left the stage before himself. His
mind was constitutionally free from that fretfulness of
spirit which too often embitters such recollections, and
his estimate of things was just and sober. " I believe,"
he tells Mr. Babington, from whom he had heard an in-
stance of "Perceval's sweetness melting down Whit-
bread's rough churlishness, and extorting a eulogy for
suavity and kindness," " that he is a man of undaunted
spirit, but his modesty prevents his taking that high tone,
which at such a time as the present rendered Pitt so
equal to the emergency."

The mental derangement of the king, and the necessity
of making provision for carrying on the government
during its continuance, caused great excitement in the
political circles in which he largely participated, and his
Journal abounds with entries which manifest the anxiety
with which he watched the progress of events, as well
as with striking comments on the characters, and actions
of the most prominent members of parliament.

In the midst of this " bustle" graver entries intervene,
and reflections which strikingly illustrate the calm and
watchful temper in which he passed through its turmoil.
" Lying awake long in the night my thoughts were not
naturally so serious as usual, and my mind more dis-
turbed by the rushing in of a great variety of topics.
Alas ! how much of my life is fumed away in trifles
which leave no mark behind, and no fruit ! O Lord,
enable me to redeem the time better in future ; to live
more on plan, though really this has been in some degree
my object, and to be more devoted in heart and life to
Thy glory, and to the good of my fellow-creatures."
These were not the indolent desires of occasional feeling;

70

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1811.

strict practical rules grew out of them. " Let me try to
keep myself reminded of invisible things by something
which will call attention, though not produce pain, and
by varying the expedients; when I grow familiar with
one, I may use another. I did try a little pebble in my
shoe. Why should such secondary means be despised ?
Oh that they were unnecessary, and so they may become
by degrees! Oh may I learn to live above this world,
and set my affections on things above !"

"Friends dined with me, and stayed too late — and
though I brought out books and read passages, it was
wasteful work. How foolish that people cannot under-
stand each other better ! What good done by this visit?
How unprofitable was our intercourse, partly from want
of topics ready for conversation! They would often re-
mind me of useful subjects for discussion — yet last night
I really was thinking how to do the young man good,
but no aspirations — I am quite faulty here." " Dined at
the Speaker's — he very kind, and particularly obliging
in his public attentions to me. Sat between Bankes and
Sir John Sebright — latter a man of much energy in the
pursuits he engages in, and many right dispositions, feel-
ings, and opinions — very upright as a member of parlia-
ment. I tried to introduce some religious conversation,
but I knew not well how. Alas ! I was too much ad-
miring and enjoying the splendour, &c. in itself. It is
much the handsomest thing of its size I ever saw, and so
say others who live in and see the most splendid houses;
but how little did I keep my heart with due diligence !
how little was I poor in spirit, the mortified, humble,
meek servant of the lowly Jesus ! Surely 1 was intoxi-
cated with the glitter and parade, and too much like
others. It must be good for me, who am called so much
necessarily into social intercourse, to retire when I can
to my own home and family, and give up as much as
possible dining out — my health is a fair plea for it — it
always suffers from late dining, though less I think than
formerly."

" Mr. Pinkney sent me a letter which was written to
him by the President of the United States, intimating a

1811.

LETTER TO MUXCASTER.

71

disposition to enter into a negotiation with England on
Abolition Enforcement questions distinct from others ;
and Pinkney said that he had never had a convenient
opportunity of reading it or showing it to Lord Wellesley,
who was out of town all the summer, and he saw his
lordship rarely. This looks very ill. Lord! give peace
to an afflicted world."

A letter to Lord Muncaster describes his occupation,
and shows the cheerfulness he maintained amid it all.

"Near London, April 10, 1811.

M Alas ! my dear Muncaster, how little your sanguine
hopes of my being by this time at liberty, are verified !
To-day, as again to-morrow, I am doomed to that vile
and hateful drudgery of presiding in a committee, where
a private bill is very hotly contested ; and what is worse,
contested between those who are all my friends ; and
what is worst of all, the case is one in which it is very
difficult to form a clear judgment. Yet, notwithstanding
this difficulty, you would suppose, from the warmth with
which the partisans on each side abuse the other, that
there was no room for any difference of opinion, but that
dishonesty or sheer stupidity, could alone cause any one
to hesitate on which side to give his vote. I am now
writing on the evening of Saturday the 13th of April,
having every day since that on which I wrote the first
five lines of my letter been incessantly engrossed, except
on the day which was claimed by considerations and
feelings peculiar to that season when we commemorate
the event on which we depend for all our hopes of future
happiness. Alas ! I am beginning my recess with so
great an arrear of business that I am ready to burn my
papers, and shut up shop.

You surprise me by your account of the blooming
state of your walls, though I was prepared to hear ac-
counts which might seem strange to any one who did
not know that the seasons with you are not such as your
degree of latitude might lead any one to suppose. But,
my dear Muncaster, though you have stayed till all

72

LIFE OF WILEERFORCE.

1811.

around you is so beautiful that you can scarcely per-
suade yourself to quit the loves of the castle; yet come
you must, or I shall send the serjeant-at-arms to disturb
your privacy; and what is more, you must bring your
daughters with you, or they also shall be summoned on
some pretence or other to give evidence concerning the
practicability of a tunnel through Scawfell to facilitate
your communication with Winandermere. We abound
with projects this session, and there are some little less
extraordinary. I guess how you will rejoice in the late
news from Portugal. They really gratify me more than
any public news I have heard for many years. Why, it
is enough to drive Buonaparte mad. What ! L'Enfant
gate flying before Lord Wellington ?

I must break off. Nil mihi rescribas, attamen ipse veni.
With kind remembrances,

Ever yours,

W. WlLBERFORCE.

Bring the lasses."

None of this abundant crop of " projects" caused Mr.
Wilberforce more trouble than Lord Sidmouth's abortive
attempt to regulate the licenses of protestant dissenting
teachers. He disliked the whole measure, but feared
especially lest, whilst aimed at others, it should cripple
the pastoral instructions of the clergy. This fear he
early expressed to Mr. Perceval ; having, on the 26th
March, " opened to him about the North American In-
dians— the Irish people and system, actual and proper —
the English church — the clergy, and the operation of the
Conventicle Act ; w7ith the benefit derived from religious
societies conducted with caution by the minister himself.
I told Perceval these effects in Richardson's case and
others, and stated to him Richmond's diligence and its
effects."

" I was chiefly afraid lest he should stop the private
religious meetings of the clergy; and I urged the danger
of all who should come under serious impressions, going
off in that case to the Methodists, and described the ex-
cellence of their discipline."

1811.

LICENSING DISSENTING TEACHERS.

73

The Methodists rose against this project as one man;
and on the motion for its second reading in the Lords, it
was negatived without a division, and with the expressed
concurrence of the Lord Primate and the government.
Yet out of this business grew one of the most irritating
rumours which infest the course of the most simple-mind-
ed politician. " Have I told you," he asks Mr. Stephen,
" that it is reported and credited, that Lord Sidmouth
told the deputation that I had been of his cabinet, and
had instigated him to the measure, and had been his
counsellor ; and that when Thompson told me what Lord
Sidmouth had said, I stamped upon the ground and wept,
exclaiming, Then Lord Sidmouth has betrayed me — or
as some accounts give it, that I was in an agony; but
these agree in saying that I exclaimed, Lord Sidmouth
has betrayed me? (You see that this implies the most
consummate villainy possible.) Yet this is believed of a
man whom some of them, at least, must know to have
defeated a similar attack, only worse, in 1796 or 7, and
who has had nothing to do with the Methodists since, but
their being such zealous friends to him in the contest of
1807. By the way, I have not mentioned to Thompson
what I doubt about mentioning even to you, (on account
of ^Nlatt. vi. 3,) but I will — as it bears on my real feel-
ings about the Methodists, (though more about one of
their founders,) that from respect to that great and good
man, Charles Wesley, I many years ago prevailed on
two friends to join in allowing his widow an annuity,
which she still receives. I have often, I own, thought it
a great reflection on the Methodists, that they suffered
such a person to be in real want, as she was, when I un-
dertook her cause.

It is strange that such a report should have gained
credit, but so it was ; and he heard of " the Sidmouthian
declaration to the Methodist deputation of my hostility
to them," as " bruited about with natural comments and
additions," at Kidderminster, Leeds, and many other
places. Though he was by this time pretty well case-
hardened, and accustomed to walk with truth " through
evil as well as good repute," yet he felt at first u perhaps

VOL. II. 7

74

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1811.

too much the personal injustice done" him, "just as a cut
gives a sharper pain, than a heavy weight which over-
bears you." Yet even then he was chiefly " hurt by
this story, because it goes to disparage religion ; and
though its falsehood may be proved to sensible men, it
will leave a cloud behind. Is it," he adds strikingly,
" that God, knowing me to be fond of popular favour,
means thus graciously to mortify the passion ? At least
let me try to derive from it this benefit. I ought how-
ever to vindicate myself by all fair means."

Many matters of great interest engaged his attention
during the remainder of the session. In the closing de-
bate on the 19th of July, he gave utterance to his feel-
ings on the probability of a war with America. " Deeply,
sir, do I deplore the gloom which I see spreading over
the western horizon; and I most earnestly trust that we
are not to be involved in the misfortune of a new war,
aggravated by possessing almost the character of civil
strife — a war between two nations, who are children of
the same family, and brothers in the same inheritance of
common liberty." Upon the following day he joined his
family at Herstmonceux.

The vacation opened with its usual employments.
" Letters my chief business. Writing a long one to-day
to Mr. Roberts, vindicating myself against Mr. W.'s
charge, and against his own declaration, most kindly
and frankly made, of my being too hurrying and imme-
thodical, and thereby lessening my influence."

Nothing could be more characteristic than the history
of this correspondence. Mr. Roberts, with whom he
had before no particular acquaintance, had called on
him in the bustle of the session, by an appointment
which had escaped Mr. Wilberforce's recollection. The
rest may be told in his own words — " Wrote to Mr.
Roberts, from whom I received a most frank and honest
letter ; too strongly charging me with deceiving people,
though ascribing it to my attempting more business than
I can execute. I love his frankness, and thanked him
for it ; yet how hardly am 1 used ! If I do my utmost,
yet if I do not succeed, or if delays happen, they are

1811. CORRESPONDENCE WITH MR. ROBERTS.

75

charged on me ; yet I am not clear of the fault of taking
more on me than I can get through, though not intention-
ally to blame. Of late years I have refused multitudes
of things. Let this letter, and what it states of another
person, who charged me with deceiving him, speaking
fair, but performing nothing, though all this is false . . .
yet let it be a lesson to me to avoid all appearance of
evil."

Mr. Roberts, though with no such intention, had taken
the shortest road to his confidence. 44 A friend who will
frankly tell me of my faults in private/' was a possession
that he valued above all price. 44 1 must spend what
time remains," he says two days afterwards in his pri-
vate Journal, 44 in humiliation and prayer; but let me
just put down the record of a most striking letter from
Mr. Roberts of Sheffield — the most truly Christian, can-
did, kind, friendly remonstrance I ever remember; espe-
cially considering the erroneous views of my conduct
under which he wrote. I had unhappily forgot an ap-
pointment made with him four days before ; and just
when raw and fresh from this instance of my negligence,
he met at my door a neighbour, who charged me with
the most gross misconduct, in making people dance at-
tendance on me, and perhaps, at last, not only deceiving,
but even opposing them, &c. Yet he had the firmness
and Christian spirit of love to make him not credit this,
and to ascribe what ground there was for it to my un-
dertaking more than I could execute."

44 1 should do violence to my own feelings," he tells
Mr. Roberts, 44 if I did not without delay assure you
solemnly, that I greatly respect your frankness on gene-
ral grounds ; but that still more on personal grounds I
consider you as entitled to my warmest gratitude for
what I must deem a signal act of friendship. Two of
the best friends I have in the world, have endeared
themselves to me in no small degree by the same friendly
frankness. Amongst other advantages which follow
from dealing thus openly, is this, that if a man be not in
fault, or not in fault greatly, he has an opportunity of
vindicating himself in whole or in part; or if he be in

76

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1811.

fault, he has the opportunity of acknowledging, and as
far as possible of repairing it. * * One word for the
person whom you met at my door; you will add to the
obligations I owe you, if you will tell me w?ho it is, or
what the case is on which he applied to me. I can
solemnly declare, that for many years I have been par-
ticularly on my guard never to excite expectations which
I was not sure I could realize ; but I must say public
men are often used very hardly, and a person in my
situation is made answerable for measures he cannot
control. I will strictly observe any injunctions of se-
crecy under which you may lay me ; but conscious that
I have not meant to deceive, I cannot but be very
anxious to exculpate myself, if it be only in your opinion,
which I must say I value highly from the specimen you
have given me of your character."

Mr. Roberts's reply enabled him fully to refute this
charge. " Another most kind and Christian letter," is
his memorandum of it. "N. was the man who gave
him that account of me. How curious ! Never had
any man more reason to complain of another than I of
him; and because I kept back all my complaints, he
goes about abusing me, and even such a man as Roberts
is the dupe of his account. Yet I am not clear that it is
not more stupidity than intentional roguery." His cor-
respondent's frankness deserved, he thought, a fuller ex-
planation of the truth. " It is really extraordinary," he
tells him in an early letter, " but I find myself opening to
you with all the unreservedness of an old friend, and en-
tering with the same confidence of friendly sympathy
into my private circumstances and feelings. Frankness
begets frankness. My temper is naturally, I believe,
open, and you have been so kindly unreserved to me,
that in return I open the window of my bosom, you will
remember the allusion, as soon as with my mind's eye
I see you ready to look into it."

As soon therefore'as the leisure of his holidays allowed,
he replied at length to Mr. Roberts, entering naturally
into a detailed sketch of his whole life in parliament.

1811.

LETTER TO SAMUEL ROBERTS, ESQ.

77

" Herstmonceux, near Battel, July 29, 1811.

" My dear Sir,

The strong claim on my esteem and gratitude which
you established by your first letter is much augmented
and confirmed by your last. I speak the real sentiments
of my heart, when you hear that I feel deeply indebted
to you. How much do I wish that you had been long
ere now in the habit of occasionally addressing me in
the same style of friendly, and I will add, Christian,
animadversion, and also, when needed, of reproof!
Such communications are unspeakably valuable to any
public man, who wishes, on the one hand, to do his duty,
and who, on the other, is sufficiently aware of the diffi-
culty of his task, and of his own various imperfections.

I am sorry I have not as much time at my command
as I should be glad to employ in considering your letter,
before I reply to it. But weeks might be spent, neither
idly nor unprofitably, in discussing topics of such im-
portance and extent. Before I enter on them, let me as-
sure you, that your last letter, by informing me that it
was N. to whom you had alluded, has afforded material
relief to my mind. For, though I was conscious that I
had never intentionally trifled with or deceived any one
with whom I had business to transact, yet I was but too
well convinced that from inadvertency or forgetfulness,
arising from the multiplicity of my occupations and en-
gagements, I had occasionally been justly culpable ; (how
could I be otherwise than impressed with the conscious-
ness of this, when engaged in writing to you, in whose
case such a circumstance had arisen !) and I could no
foresee into what extent of apparent criminality I might
not have been drawn by the same causes. By inform-
ing me, that and were the person and case in

question, you therefore, I repeat it, considerably relieved
me. #.-■##■•'♦#

I have spent so much time on the former part of your
last letter, that the latter and more interesting part must
be despatched more briefly; and I will be honest enough
to begin by confessing that I wish I could vindicate my-
self as satisfactorily, even to my own judgment, against

7*

78

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1811,

the general charge, which you urge so kindly, and there-
fore with increased force, of a want of order and me-
thod in the general discharge of my business, and I can-
not deny the consequences which you ascribe to these
imperfections. I strive, and will strive still more ear-
nestly, against them. But let it not be supposed that
after this frank confession, I am seeking covertly to do
away the effect of it, when I go on to remark, that
though conscience compels me to plead to the indict-
ment, there is much to be alleged in extenuation, much
in explanation of my offence. And before I proceed to
state these particulars, let me bar any conclusions in this
case, to be drawn from the last session of parliament
only ; because the truth is, that about ten months ago I
lost my secretary, and hence my papers have been in
confusion, my letters have been unanswered, and I have
been forced to spend time in writing with my own hand
many which ought to have been written by my secre-
tary, with a gain to me of the time for better purposes. —
But you will easily suggest to yourself, how such a
cause must diffuse its effects throughout the whole of
my day, and of my work. In the next place I ought
perhaps to mention my not having any great share of
bodily strength, were it not that though this prevents my
being able occasionally to work double tides, and so get
through a great quantity of work in a few days on any
emergency, yet my constitution has been such as to ena-
ble me, I believe, to get through on the whole as much
business during six or seven months as many far stronger
persons ; the inability to bear great fatigue does, however,
sometimes cause my affairs, papers, letters, &c. to fall
into confusion, because I cannot, after having been kept
up till four or five in the morning, rise at my usual hour,
and pass my time according to its ordinary system of
allotments. Conscious also of this, I dare not make en-
gagements for an early or even moderate hour in the
ensuing morning, because I cannot foresee how long I
may be kept up on the preceding night. This leads me
to remark in the next place, that in the case of a mem-
ber of parliament, it is not merely the quantity of work

1811. " NOT AT HOME." 79

which he has on his hands, but the uncertain hours he
must keep, which prevents his having the full command
of his time.

And now in going on with this explanation, I find my-
self embarrassed by the fear of subjecting myself to the
imputation of vanity and self-sufficiency, if 1 proceed to
state particulars, which it would yet be unjust to myself
to forbear mentioning. But if the great apostle of the
Gentiles, wThen his character was called in question, felt
that he was justified in speaking of his own actings
and sufferings in the cause of Christ, in a manner which
but for the occasion would have rendered him liable to
the charge of boasting and vain glory, I may surely, at
least to your friendly ear, state concerning myself par-
ticulars which, but for the circumstance which calls
them from me, ought not to proceed from my own pen.
With this excuse then let me state to you, that there is
scarcely any member of parliament who has much, or I
might almost say any private business, who attends the
discussions on public questions with any thing like the
same degree of regularity as myself, or who takes part
so much in them. Again, there is scarcely any such
member who is so generally put on the public commit-
tees, which from time to time are appointed for the
despatch of important business, for conducting delicate
and important inquiries, &c. Observe, 1 do not put myself
on these committees, but bearing in mind that I am
member for Yorkshire, I own I think it right that I
should be present at the agitation of all public questions
of moment, and for the same reason, that I should not
shrink from the attendance on committees. The number
of these to which I belonged during the last session was
very great. Let me also state that you can scarcely
conceive the prodigious amount of inconvenience which
1 sustain from not thinking it right to allow my servants
to say, when I am within, that I am not at home, but
only that I am engaged. ... I will just state, that my
scrupulousness here is not on my own account so much
as on my servants ; it has been a matter of so much im-
portance to me, as to have made me observe the effect

80

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

181L

on their minds of saying, Not at home ; and I see that
nine out of ten of them conceive that they are telling a
falsehood for their master's convenience. How then can
I afterwards speak in Scriptural terms of the guilt of
lying ; and will they not be likely to infer, that if they
are allowed to stretch a little when it is for their master's
benefit, they may do the same for their own] . . But the
inconvenience which I suffer from it is extreme. For
my servants assure me, that in spite of all they can say,
of my being engaged, of my not seeing persons unless
they come by appointment, (Yorkshire men however are
excepted from this rule,) people will force their way in,
and then you may conceive the consequence. Indeed I
believe you have in some degree witnessed it; I say in
some degree, because I doubt whether I had the pleasure
of seeing you at Kensington Gore, and if not, you can
little conceive how difficult it is for me to force my way
out of my own house. But though I own I might do
better, and hope to do better than I have done, the above
causes, with the additional circumstance of the grand
evil of all, my very great correspondence, render it ex-
tremely difficult, if not impossible, to allot certain hours
to certain occupations, in the degree which you perhaps
suppose. There is however still another consideration
to take into account, and a consideration of as much
practical importance and operation as any that has been
mentioned, and that is, my not being a party man,

Nullius addictus jurare in verba magistri,

which surely the member for Yorkshire ought not to be;
for as I have no such easy principle to decide my vote,
in nine cases out of ten at least, as that of the side of the
House from which the motion proceeds, but profess to
take my part on every question according to my own
unbiassed judgment, much reading is necessary, much
reflection, much talking matters over with able and im-
partial friends, when facts are brought forward, conces-
sions, made, &c, which do not appear in public debates.
The questions on which we have to decide are often, be-

1611.

HABITS DURING THE SESSION.

81

lieve me, of great nicety; on which, if a man will give
a fair hearing to all that is to be urged on both sides, he
will own it is very hard to judge which of the two scales
preponderates. I must add, by the way, that you are
not to estimate the attention I pay, nay, the share I take,
in public debates and conversations, by wThat you see in
the newspapers; for belonging to no party, I am na-
turally, as well as on other accounts, very unpopular
with the reporters, who are always strong on one side
or the other. Hence I am often left entirely out, and
more frequently dismissed with a much shorter account
of what I have said, than is given of what comes from
other speakers. . . . The evil of which I am here speak-
ing, if it affected myself only, would scarcely deserve to
be noticed ; but considered in its general operation, as it
tends to aggravate party violence, to produce a disposi-
tion to cultivate the favour of the reporters, instances of
w^hich I have seen in men who might have been sup-
posed incapable of such servility, to destroy in short all
independence of principle and character, — viewed in
these and other consequences, the evils arising from the
partial and unfair way in which our debates are now re-
ported, and more especially in which any neutral, parti-
cularly if he is supposed to be unreasonably religious, is
treated, are of the very first importance, and tend as I
really fear to the ruin of our country.

But I have been led away, though not unnaturally,
into this general discussion. I will finish this train of
egotisms, of which I really am heartily ashamed, by
stating that my irregularity does not proceed from my
having less time to give to parliamentary business from
social engagements, domestic comforts, other occupa-
tions, &c. for I make all other business bend and give
way to that of parliament. I refuse all invitations for
days on which the House sits. I commonly attend all
the debate, instead of going away after the private busi-
ness is over for two or three hours, and coming down
again after a comfortable dinner; on the contrary, I
snatch a hasty meal, as I may, before the public business
begins, in the short interval sometimes between the end

82

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1811.

of the private and the beginning of the public. I see
little or nothing of my family during the session of par-
liament, (though, blessed be God, of a more tender, ex-
cellent wife no man ever received 6 the gift from the
Lord,' you know the quotation,) and I have stayed till
the very end of the session, I believe, every year of the
last twenty-three or twenty-four. This very year, I had
gone down to my family, when the new business which
so unexpectedly sprung up gave a call, to which I did
not turn a deaf ear. Now, my dear sir, once more I
assure you, I am ashamed of myself for running on
thus.

But that which I account the part of my public con-
duct in which I have acted the most faithfully by my
constituents, and in a manner the most becoming the
member for the first county in England, is my not having
rendered the situation the means of benefiting my rela-
tives . . of whom I have had several with large families
reduced from great affluence to entire destitution by
commercial misfortunes . . or connexions, or friends;
nor still more, the means of aggrandizing myself, or my
family, or rather, which was the greater temptation to
me, of securing a quiet seat in the legislature of my
country, exempt from expense, trouble, or risk, and
which would have allowed me to attend as much or as
little as I liked without impropriety. This, I dare say,
has never struck you; but when you consider on the
one hand, that more than half of the present House of
Lords has been created or gifted with their titles (ex-
cluding all hereditary descent) since I came into parlia-
ment, and on the other, that my intimacy with Mr. Pitt
for so many years may be supposed to have rendered it
not difficult for me to obtain such an elevation, you may
assign more wreight to this circumstance, than at first
sight might appear to you to be due to it. I remember
Mr. Cobbett commenting on this subject with his usual
fairness observed, that my pride was more gratified by
being M. P. for Yorkshire, than by receiving a peerage
from any minister ; and I will not deny all force to the
remark; but I can assure him, that this pride would

1811. REVIEW OF PARLIAMENTARY CAREER. 83

never have had the effect of preventing my accepting a
seat in the House of Lords — they were principles of a
very different and far higher order which produced that
operation.

And thus for the first, and let me hope for the last time,
finding myself in a rural retirement at a friend's house,
where I could scribble on with little interruption, I have
suffered myself by your friendly expostulation to be
drawn into this exposure of the real sentiments of my
heart, respecting my parliamentary conduct. But after
all I have been led into saying in my own favour, I
ought in fairness to add, that I am myself conscious of
many, many imperfections, and defects, and errors ; of
more perhaps than are known by any other person ;
though I can truly declare that they have not been
caused by my sacrificing a sense of public duty to my
own personal advantage, or, I will add, personal gratifi-
cation. I will also confess my fear lest from the infirmi-
ties of age beginning to appear, (for though I am not
quite fifty-two, a man's age is not to be always measured
by the number of his years,) there have been more im-
perfections within the last year or two than formerly —
the memory first declines, and in my intercourse with
you there was a notable instance of its being defective.
Let me not forget to assure you that I consider myself,
in all that I have been saying, not so much defending
myself against the accusation you brought against me,
as against that which I brought against myself — that to
which I was conscious I must appear justly subject, in
the judgment of fair and unprejudiced observers. I
should not, however, though I have been so insensibly
drawn on into pouring forth the unrestrained effusions
of my heart as they have flowed forth without prepara-
tion or arrangement, I should not, I think, send off such
a mass of egotisms, (as I must again style what I have
been writing,) if the friendly frankness with which you
addressed me, had not made me feel that I could open
to you the whole interior of my mind. Once more I
thank you from the bottom of my soul for the friendly

84

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1811.

and Christian freedom which you have exercised to-
wards me.

The postman is come. He departs hence, most incon-
veniently for me, at a very early hour : and to save a day
I will send off this letter without reading it over ; — it
will at least show, that I wish to stand well in your esti-
mation,— you have in fact convinced me, that you form
your judgment of men with an observing, and at the
same time a candid eye. But after all, it is of little real
importance what judgment is formed of us by our fel-
low-creatures. To obtain the approbation of the man
within the breast, as conscience has been well called,
should be our object, and to seek for that true honour
which cometh from God. Believe me, with real esteem
and regard, my dear sir,

Your obliged and faithful,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

CHAPTER IV.

Proposes retiring from representation of Yorkshire — Bible Society-
Feeling toward America — Death of Mr. Perceval — Retires from re-
presentation of Yorkshire.

The alarming illness of the King called him at this
time to an immediate decision upon a most important
question, suggested to him by that consciousness of fail-
ing memory which he expresses in this letter, as well as
by the earnest advice of some of his most confidential
friends. " I am thinking just now whether or not to give
up the county of York : it is a most serious question,
may God direct me right in it. I can truly say, that if I
knew which wras the right path, I would follow it."

His great humility disposed him, as has been already
said, to defer too much to the judgment of his friends;

1811.

king's illness.

85

yet this was more perhaps in appearance than in truth.
It led him indeed to seek their counsel with unusual free-
dom, and" to weigh it with proportionate anxiety, and
thus sometimes gave to a suspended judgment the ap-
pearance of a want of resolution ; but on all important
points he at last acted on his own convictions. Yet
whilst forming his own judgment he was often " much
embarrassed by the conflicting advice of friends — Bab-
ington strong for absolute retiring — Stephen and others
for giving up Yorkshire — but Grant and Henry Thorn-
ton against my quitting the county."

This important question was far from occupying all
his time. He complains indeed of being robbed of his
usual holiday leisure for literary enjoyment. But of
more serious work-, as he tells Mr. Babington, his hands
were full ; and in no vacation did he find, " as Dr. John-
son phrases it, a more plentiful lack of time."

He reached home upon the 6th of September, and felt
his " mind affected by having all around me on my first
return home, but somewhat turmoiled from the con-
sciousness of the number of people I had to see and
things to do." Here he spent a busy fortnight, pressing
forward by continual personal exertion his West Indian
efforts, and consulting with his natural advisers on his
own doubtful question. He was gradually adopting his
ultimate decision. " It seems best to quit the larger
sphere, and yet remain at least for awhile in parliament,
at the beginning of a new reign, when one knows not
what may be intended in favour of popery, or against
morals." " I think I am pretty well resolved against
Yorkshire, which I humbly hope is pleasing to God. I
am sure it is not from the love of ease or quiet. I feel
exquisitely the giving up all my old ways and habits,
and still more, I humbly hope, the becoming unable to
render any public services such as those in which I now
am engaged. Still God can find instruments. He seems
to have prepared a new employment and new pleasures
for me, and I humbly hope that I shall also know Him
better and love Him more. O Lord, bless, and keep,
and guide me !"

VOL. II. 8

80

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1811.

Meanwhile he was full of business, " several important
matters having been stored up to meet me. Several
missionary concerns. With Lord Liverpool, Lord N. and
others. Heard with pleasure from Lord N. that justice
would be secured for the Hottentots. He bore strong tes-
timony to the effects of the Moravian missions — less to
those of the Methodists — said Vanderkempt and Kichener
worthy men, but enthusiasts. Alas ! poor Lord N., how
little dost thou judge according to the Scripture's esti-
mate ! Was not then St. Paul an enthusiast V9

The next two months were spent by Mr. Wilberforce
in paying, with his family, some long-promised visits.
Signs of thankfulness to God, and love to man, mark
every halt along his route. "Elmdon, Sunday, Sept. 29.
Walked a little with Cowper — the beautiful end of the
0th book — 'the promised Sabbath.' What a prospect!
Oh the unspeakable mercies of God; what can I desire
which he has not granted me 1 And then when I com-
pare my state with that of all the rest of the world, in
other countries, and even in this little oasis of security,
and prosperity, and peace ! Oh that I were more grate-
ful! Oh let me strive more to love God and Christ, to
delight in them, and be grateful to them in some propor-
tion to what 1 ought," " Oct. 28th. Off for Lord G.'s,
were very kindly received. It is a fine place, and im-
proved with great taste. Their kind compulsion kept us
over another day. Lord G. very pleasing and friendly,
but these fine houses do not suit me. Surely they see
too little of their children. Alas ! I fear I did little good.
Resolved to take opportunity from a conversation we
had atN. to w7rite to Lord G. to press on him the reading
of St. Paul's writings. Oh may the effect be blessed !
He is of a sweet disposition, and most superior under-
standing. Alas ! how unspeakable are his disadvantages,
and how much does he suffer from high life ! How
thankful should I be for having a wife who is not of the
fashionable sort ! How thankful for my not having been
made a peer in earlier life! It w7ould, humanly speaking,
have been the ruin of my children, if not of myself."
" Finishing in the evening a letter of Alexander Knox's,

1811.

BIBLE SOCIETY.

87

of fine imagination, rich in thought and beautiful in lan-
guage ; ingenious too, and devotional, but yet fanciful,
and full of guesses and subtleties leading to dangerous
practical errors, or rather perhaps arising out of them,
and then lending their filial support."

By the end of November he was again at home.

A few extracts from letters written at this time to Mr.
Simeon exhibit some of those secret links by w?hich all
through his long public life he was connected with the
efforts of religious men in every quarter. Mr. Simeon
was anxious to set up in Cambridge an Association of
the Bible Society, and he at once appealed to Mr. Wil-
berforce for help. In reply he promises " to do his best,"
and after many efforts to promote the object writes as
follows — thus manifesting his deep interest in the pro-
gress of this noble institution.

41 Near London, Dec. 10. 1811.

M My dear Sir,

Io triumphe ! or rather let me more properly praise
God for the greatly altered view of things. When all
my prospects were dark and gloomy, behold the light
suddenly breaks forth. Who should be announced to me
this morning, but the Duke of Gloucester, who with a
cheerful countenance accosted me by saying, that he had
come himself to let me know that though on the whole
he still thought that it .would not be proper for him to
attend in person, he had written to desire that it might
be stated to the meeting that he highly approved of it, and
took a lively interest in the Society's success ; that he
desired to be put down as a subscriber of 50 guineas;
and that if there should be a request made to him to be-
come President or Patron of the Society, he should not
decline the situation. The Duke suggested, that if the
Bishop of Bristol, from delicacy towards his brother of
Ely. should not like to attend, Lord Hardwicke would
be the fittest person to represent and speak for him at
the meeting. The Dean has not absolutely decided, but

ss

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1811

I think he will go. I press him to go down as strongly
as with propriety I can.

With kind remembrances to common friends,

Believe me ever sincerely yours,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

The day following the meeting, its success was thus
communicated to him in a letter from the Bishop of
Bristol.

" Trinity Lodge, Dec. 13, 1811.

" My dear Sir,

Were I ever inclined to think lightly of the character
and merits of the British and Foreign Bible Society,
your opinion of it would convince me that I could not be
wrong in lending my humble assistance to that which
has deserved the support of the friend of every thing
which is right, humane and good. Unfortunately, for
reasons I will explain when we meet, I could not attend
the meeting. But our great and admirable friend, the
Dean of Carlisle, wTho is himself instar omnium, did; and
there exercised his extraordinary powers to the credit of
himself and the furtherance of this most important cause,
which I have the happiness to say was well planted, and
is likely to be most thriving. I have the honour to be,
with the sincerest regard, my dear sir,

Yours most obediently,

W. Bristol."

The Christmas holidays had now brought his two
school-boys home, and all his six children were gathered
round him — " A true family party," but u how sadly do
I feel my own exceeding incompetency to the work of
education! O Lord, to Thee do I flee. Thou hast
promised wisdom to them that ask it sincerely ; grant it
then to me, that I may be kind and cheerful, and yet
steady with my young ones." He was at this time la-
bouring under a distressing oppression on the chest
which for some weeks almost deprived him of his voice.
Yet was he striving to make their home cheerful to his
children. " It is of great importance to preserve boys'
affections, and prevent their thinking home a dull place."

1812.

WILLIAM ALLEN THE QUAKER.

89

" R.'s birth-day, so they had their play of King and
Queen in my court dresses — in the evening chess. Even-
ing, air-pump, and Southey's Curse of Kehama — imagi-
nation wild as the winds — prodigious command of lan-
guage, and the moral purity truly sublime — the finest
ideas all taken from the Scriptures." " Oh what a con-
sideration is it, that magnificent as are the visions of
glory in which Southey's fancy revels, and which his
creative genius forms, they are all beneath the simple
reality of the Christian's hope, if he be but duly im-
pressed with it ! May the eyes of my understanding
be enlightened, that 1 may know what is the hope of
His calling, and what the riches of his glorious inheri-
tance. Amen."

On Saturday " William Allen the Quaker dined with
us by three; and soon after dinner, till half-past eight,
showed us galvanic and chemical wonders." " How
truly edifying," he continues in that tone of hearty praise
which sprung ever readily from his habitual humility, " to
see such a man's goings-on ! Though so attached to
science, in a large business, and so busy at Lancaster's
schools, lecturing at Guy's publicly — he attends all cha-
ritable meetings where needed, and assigned as a reason
why he could not attend us on Monday, that he must be
at the meeting for distributing soup at Spital Fields from
six to nine. Thus can he contract into the smallest
dimensions, or expand into the largest, for beneficent pur-
poses."

The new year opened with his usual song of praise.
"Oh what mercies have I to acknowledge during the
past year ! Surely it is a solemn season, but I go to
prayer; only let me put down my gratitude and humi-
liation. I must especially try to husband time more. O
Lord, enable me to redeem it ! I must try to keep an
account of time and work, to take security against tri-
fling." " I have been detained long at church," he tells
Dr. Coulthurst, " according to a custom which I have
observed for twenty-six or twenty-seven years, of de-
voting the new year to God by public worship in a sa-
crament on the 1st of January — but you shall hear from

8*

90

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1812.

me to-morrow; and at this season, when it is usual "for
friends to interchange good wishes, accept the assurance
of my best remembrances and kindest wishes for your-
self and all that are dear to you for time and for eter-
nity."

The approaching crisis with America filled him witfc
uneasiness. " There seems real reason to fear a war
with America, yet honest Butterworth's correspondents
say that we need not heed the war cry, as being only
meant to intimidate. It may be so ; but nine times out
of ten it is a game at brag, wherein each party depends
upon the giving way of the other, or would not himself
push on so warmly. Alas, alas! Feb. 3d. Bankes thinks
with me that there is no chance of the Prince's changing
the ministry, or consequently of a speedy dissolution, but
wTe both fear an American war. I am wanting my
voice much, that I may plead the cause of Christianity
in India, and soften the asperity of hostile tempers be-
tween Great Britain and America." "I am so much
affected," he tells Mr. Babington, " by the probability of
a war with America, that I am strongly disposed to go
to the House if Whitbread brings on this motion,* that
I may declare the grief and pain with which the very
thought of a w7ar with America fills my heart. I have
often thought that we have not enough borne in mind
that the people of America have a great influence over
their government, and that their thinking that a great
number of people in this country feel for them might tend
to allay irritation, even if a war should break out/' Mr.
Whitbread's motion came on upon the 12th of February,
and after "thinking a little about American question in
the morning — he went down to the House for the first
time this session. People kindly welcomed me — I
spoke for about twenty minutes without suffering in
voice, and very well heard. Whitbread angry at me
for voting and speaking against him, and very rough
and rude. He seemed himself to think so, for he came
up next day and talked with me some time, saying how

* For the correspondence between the two governments.

1812.

FEELINGS TOWARD AMERICA.

01

much he had been disappointed by my going against
him. Yet our set voted with me — much misrepre-
sented in the Morning Chronicle next day. I went
against my wife's remonstrance, to soften and prevent
irritation."

To his friends in the country he thus explains the mo-
tives of his conduct.

TO S. ROBERTS, ESQ.

" Near London, Feb. 15, 1812.

" My dear Sir,

My complaint has been much more serious, and has
hung on me far longer than I expected. I thank God, I
am convalescent I hope, though not well. But on Thurs-
day last, the great anxiety I felt, and indeed continue to
feel, on the American question, carried me to the House
of Commons much sooner than perhaps was prudent :
and really I have been as usual so misrepresented, and
traduced in the newspaper reports of the debates, that I
almost regret my not having stayed away. It is a satis-
faction to me, however, to reflect, that I went for the
purpose of soothing any irritation which might arise, and
of preventing any mischievous discussions. I have not
time to be at all particular, but I can assure you, had,
Whitbread's motion been complied with, and the various
particulars mentioned in the correspondence between the
British and American ministers come into discussion, the
most acrimonious debates and the strongest charges (and
I must say, well-founded charges in some instances)
against the American government, and its representative,
General Armstrong, must have come forward.

Again, I fear there is too much cause for apprehend-
ing, that the American government, finding its threaten-
ing language produce the effect of making our parliament
take the negotiation into its own hands, would conceive
that it need only go on threatening with increased warmth,
to insure our conceding all it should require ; whereas, I
know it would thereby call forth a spirit of a directly
opposite kind in many of our country gentlemen, as well

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

as in government, and would consequently produce the
rupture which I so greatly deprecate. But I must say
farewell ; and believe me, with esteem and regard, my
dear sir,

Yours sincerely,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

The other great cause which he " wanted voice to
plead," and which eighteen years before he had pressed
so earnestly on parliament, was brought on at this time
by the approaching expiration of the East India Com-
pany's charter. He was most anxious that the Church
should assume her proper station in this noble under-
taking, of diffusing the blessings of Christianity, and
was therefore " trying to keep back the Dissenters and
Methodists, until the Church fairly come forward, from
fear that if the sectaries begin the Church will not
follow. I wish them therefore to delay applying to the
legislature, for instructing the East Indians, or for the
repeal of the Conventicle Act, which they are about to
attempt in consequence of the judgment of the King's
Bench that a man must be a teacher of a separate con-
gregation."

He was himself endeavouring to arouse the Church ;
u setting hard to work on a paper for the Christian
Observer, urging clergymen to come forward and press
the communication of Christian light to the natives of
India;" and using freely in all directions his own personal
influence.

He called on Mr. Perceval " entirely about the East
India charter occasion, for securing the means of intro-
ducing Christian light into India. He freefy professed
himself favourable to the object, but saw great difficul-
ties in the way, and asked for some distinct proposition.
I had told Grant he would. I replied by saying that at
least parliament might in the act insert some such gen-
eral declarations of principles, as in the two resolutions
I moved in May, 1793, and carried in the Committee
and House, but which Lord Melville would not put into
the bill. But more — that we must secure the entrance

1812.

ORDERS IN" COUNCIL.

93

of missionaries. To whom can any discretionary power
of granting or refusing leave to go be trusted? I must
think over this most important point, but I have long
conceived that probably those who are interested for
religion will be compelled to join the great body of com-
mercial and political economy men, who will, I doubt
not, contend for destroying the monopoly of the Com-
pany, and leaving the road to the East Indies free and
open |" " and I cannot doubt that the most mature consi-
deration will only confirm the present inclination of my
mind, to throw open the whole, and even abolish the East
India Company altogether, rather than not insure a pas-
sage for the entrance of light, and truth, and moral im-
provement, and happiness into that benighted and de-
graded region."

" I am sadly disappointed," he says a week later, " in
finding even religious people so cold about the East In-
dian Instruction. Partly produced I think by the secta-
ries having had a notion that the Church of England to
be established. Alas ! alas ! let us have some substance
before we differ about form."

He laboured with his wonted self-devotion and dili-
gence in the House of Commons as well as in the dif-
fusion of information among his friends, calculated to
arouse their interest in this most glorious cause, until he
saw it triumph over the opposition of ignorance and pre-
judice.

Public affairs meanwhile were of a highly interesting
character. He had foreseen the operation of the Orders
in Council, and dreaded the result. So much indeed,
that in defiance of the opposition of his medical ad-
visers and friends he had attended at the House when
his health was in a most precarious condition, in the
hope of averting so unnatural a war, and when it could
no longer be averted he says, " Sick at heart from sad
prospect of war with America."

He was now leading his usual London life ; constant
in the House, full of all plans for public or private cha-
rity, and showing to others no symptom of the decay
which he suspected in himself. One "day at home

94

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

writing and correcting a paper about Danish confisca-
tion ;" then " to Rose at the Council Office with Latrobe
about the Moravian missionaries in Greenland," or " all
the afternoon busy about setting up a dispensary for our
neighbourhood," and " waiting on the Duke of York to
ask him to be patron of it. He very obliging and civil,
and consented" — an amiable trait in his Royal Highness
towards a conscientious opponent, which he always
loved to mention. In the House he spoke more than
once upon the system of punishments in the army, " en-
forcing my argument that no flogging but by general
court martial."

He still maintained a jealous watch over the African
Slave Trade, and neglected no opportunity to promote
its abolition by foreign powers.

Another cause to which he freely gave his time and
thoughts, was the welfare of the different religious
societies. Most of them he had seen arise around him
since his entrance into public life ; for they owed their
origin to the increased attention to religion, which was
in great measure the fruit of his exertions. When he
w7as most occupied this spring, he still found time to
attend the " general meeting of the Church Missionary
Society for Africa and the East. A grand assemblage
— I spoke with acceptance. It went off well." Afri-
can and Asiatic Society's dinner — took the chair. Then
House, where sat late. May 6th. British and Foreign
Bible Society, annual meeting — all went off admirably.
Immense meeting — I spoke with acceptance — several
bishops present."

The meeting of the Society for Promoting Christian
Knowledge led to some important consequences. To
the committee then appointed Mr. Wilberforce trans-
mitted Dr. Buchanan's sketch for an ecclesiastical estab-
lishment in India, which they embodied in their resolu-
tions ; and thus the first great steps were taken which
led to the appointment of our Indian bishoprics.

In the midst of these peaceful occupations he was
startled by a shock which was felt throughout the king-
dom. On Monday, May 11th, some friends had been

1812.

perceval's murder.

95

breakfasting with him to talk over the East Indian ques-
tion, and then "considering the question of sinecures
preparatory to the third reading of Bankes's Bill for
their abolition. Late in town. Stopped to dine at
Babington's at half-past four. Babington (who was
chairman of the committee on the Orders in Council)
at the examination, which began at four, when he re-
turned to us (Henry Thornton, Mrs. Babington, &c.)
about a quarter to five, greatly agitated, stating that Per-
ceval had been shot dead in the lobby. We could scarce
believe it. I went, after calling at Perceval's and Ar-
buthnot's, who quite overwhelmed, to the House, to the
prison rooms, where the poor wretch Bellingham [was,
they were] examining him. I carefully perused his face
for some time, close to him — a striking face: at times
he shed tears, or had shed them ; but strikingly com-
posed and mild, though haggard. Called William Smith's,
who close to Perceval when he dropped, and who thought
it was myself, till he looked in the face. Smith, with
another, carried him into the secretary's room. Poor
Lord Arden quite wild with grief — * No, I know he is
not here, he is gone to a better world.' " The next day
he went " early to town to the Speaker's, by whom sum-
moned about the proposition to be made for the provision
for poor Perceval's family."

"Perceval," he says in his private Diary, "had the
sweetest of all possible tempers, and was one of the
most conscientious men 1 ever knew ; the most instinc-
tively obedient to the dictates of conscience, the least
disposed to give pain to others, the most charitable and
truly kind and generous creature I ever knew. He
offered me at once a thousand pounds for paying Pitt's
debts, though not originally brought forward by Pitt,
and going out of office with a great family." " Oh
wonderful power of Christianity," he adds upon the
following Sunday. " Never can it have been seen,
since our Saviour prayed for His murderers, in a more
lovely form than in the conduct and emotions it has pro-
duced in several on the occasion of poor dear Perceval's
death. Stephen, who had at first been so much over-

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1812.

come by the stroke, had been this morning, I found,
praying for the wretched murderer, and thinking that
his being known to be a friend of Perceval's might affect
him, he went and devoted himself to trying to bring him
to repentance. He found honest Butterworth trying to
get admittance, and obtained it for him and Mr. Daniel
Wilson, whom at my recommendation he had brought
with him. The poor creature was much affected, and
very humble and thankful, but spoke of himself as un-
fortunate rather than guilty, and said it was a necessary
thing — strange perversion — no malice against Perceval.
Poor Mrs. Perceval after the first grew very moderate
and resigned, and with all her children knelt down by
the body, and prayed for them and for the murderer's
forgiveness. Oh wonderful power of Christianity ! Is
this the same person who could not bear to have him
opposed by any one V9

To Mr. Hey he opened at this time his mind.

"London, May 15th, 1812.

" My dear Sir,

Alas! into what times are we thrown! I cannot help
thinking I see the source of that savage spirit which pre-
vails so much. The reverence for authority, and law,
and rank, and high station, has been effaced from the
minds of the lower orders ; and where the fear of God
has no place, the consequence is that all control is with-
drawn from the bad passions of men. To this cause I
think may be added the modern system of making expe-
diency the basis of morals and the spring of action,
instead of the domestic and social affections and the
relations of life and the duties arising out of them. Not
that the lower orders understand this generalizing abstract
way of thinking and feeling; but the opinions and emo-
tions which are taught and imbibed in this school, re-
ceiving their stamp in the mint of the higher orders, if I
may so express it, obtain a currency throughout the
inferior classes of society. I trust we are introducing
the true remedy, indeed, the only remedy of our diseased
nature, by teaching the mass of our people the know-

1812.

DEATH OF PERCEVAL.

in

ledge of the Scriptures. Surely it is an indication of the
favour of the Almighty, that we have been enabled to
spread so extensively the system of education. I must
also ascribe much to the seditious publications which
have been circulated so industriously.

It is no small pleasure to me to believe that Mr. Per-
ceval had an habitual desire to please God ; and I doubt
not he looked to Him with unfeigned humiliation, through
the Redeemer. It is really an honour to our House, that
his private virtues were so generally recognised among
us. How much I wish that I may not hear that in our
county the account of Mr. P.'s death, and of the horrid
circumstances which attended it, was received with joy
and exultation, as in Nottingham, Leicester, and I fear
other places ! Well, my dear Sir, 1 there remaineth a
rest,' and pray for me and mine, that we may enter into
it after the short voyage of this stormy and tempestuous
life. With kind remembrances to all your family,
I remain, my dear Sir,

Ever your sincere friend,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

In the midst of all the public bustle and political con-
tention which followed the death of Mr. Perceval, grow-
ing out of the difficulty the Prince Regent experienced
in forming a ministry, about which he was consulted by
Mr. Canning on the course it was best for him to pursue,
it is most refreshing to turn from the entries of his busy
nights and hurried days to the record of his inner feelings.
He was now again separated from his family, and his
letters to them breathe the simplest and most natural
affection. The troubled gusts of politics never ruffled its
peaceful current. " I feel," he tells his sister, " as if I
were unkind in never writing to you, and I have often
thought of doing it. But every day brings with it claims
upon my time far beyond my powers of satisfying them.
Yet nothing can ever prevent my having at liberty for
your use my kindest thoughts and affections."

" For once," he tells Mrs. Wilberforce, who was
travelling with his children to the coast. " I rejoice in an

VOL. II. 9

98

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

east wind, since I recollect that it will meet you and
prevent your all suffering from the heat ... In comes
John VillierSj and he has released me only by my abso-
lutely forcing him out at half-past three, and I ought to
have gone to town an hour ago ... I have been sitting
under the trees reading and writing. The only part of
the garden which I did not enjoy, was one to which I
went purposely to see how all looked — the children's
gardens. Even the fullest exuberance of summer beau-
ties could not supply the want of animal life. Barbara's
gum-cistus is in high beauty, and the roses in full bloom.
My own room produces something of the same melan-
choly sensation as the children's gardens; but I am
going to dine at Babington's to meet Mr. Robert Hall,
(the Dissenting minister,) whose shyness is such that he
could not bring himself to come to me, though, hearing
that he wished to see me, I wrrote to him a long letter to
banish all such feelings, and settle about our meeting."

On the Sunday following he writes again from Broom-
field, where he was passing one day with Mr. William
Hoare. " After having dated my letter I need not in-
form you that the various rooms of this house, and walks
of this place, call up many interesting recollections in
which you all have the principal share. It was impos-
sible for the main features of the place to be ever changed.
The walk under the oaks and the opposite close one —
the various rooms, &c. ... I hope I do not look back on
the past scenes without some of that gratitude which
they justly claim in overflowing measure. I am but
poorly to day, and have been robbed of the portion of
time which I value more in common than any other in
the whole week, that I mean which elapses between re-
turning from church and dinner."

His affections were naturally lively, but it was not to
this only that he owed the preservation, all through his
busy life, of their early morning freshness. This was
the reward of self-discipline and watchfulness; of that
high value for the house of God, and the hours of secret
meditation, which made his Sundays cool down his mind
and allay the rising fever of political excitement. Sun-

1812.

SUNDAY REFLECTIONS.

99

day turned all his feelings into a new channel. His
letters were put aside, and all thoughts of business
banished. To the closest observer of his private hours
he seemed throughout the day as free from all the feelings
of a politician, as if he had never mixed in the busy
scenes of public life. 44 I have been much affected by
hearing old Scott of the Lock for the first time these
many years. The beginning of his sermon ... 4 1 have
been young, and now am old' . . that twenty-seven years
ago he preached for the first time in that chapel, was
remarkably applicable to me; for then I first heard him
at the beginning of my Christian course. Oh how truly
may I say, that goodness and mercy follow me ! And
may I not hope that my being thus humiliated is a sign
that the Saviour is knocking at the door of my heart,
and that I am ready to let Him in? Mr. Sargent preached,
and pleased us all greatly — simple seriousness, and con-
sequent pathos, the character of his preaching."

44 What a blessing," he says, " is a cheerful temper ! 1

felt most keenly 's behaviour about Bowdler, and

his not coming to me ; but for his sake, and I hope from
Christian principles, I resolved to struggle against bad
temper about it, and now all is over." Thus was his
spirit kept unruffled by all the exasperating influences of
the life he led; whilst he walked safely, with a cheerful
seriousness and disengaged affections, in the heated and
infectious air of public life — in the world, but most truly
not of the world — ever remembering the end. " How
will all this busy and tumultuous world appear to have
been all one great bedlam when we look back on it from
a future state !"

The summer was far advanced before Mr. Wilberforce
got off from London, " holding it a duty to stay till the
last." He reached Sandgate upon the 29th of July, and
resumed his usual summer occupations. 44 My first em-
ployment must be writing — to clear away an immense
arrear of unanswered letters and unread papers." 44 Be-
sides the mass of trash, I have letters for Europe, Asia,
Africa, and America."

Here he was exposed to few external interruptions,

100

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1812.

and was therefore able to devote more time than usual
to his children : whilst he indulged in " a little miscella-
neous reading. Sometimes parts of the Reviews or
poetry, Heber's Palestine, The Lady of the Lake ;" and
took part in " the general reading of the family — Rollin
and Shakspeare. This afternoon in walking 1 ran over
for an hour The Vicar of Wakefield. What an utter
ignorance does it indicate of true Christianity ! Morality
is its main vital principle ; yet the story, though strangely
unnatural, is beautifully told and inimitably interesting."

To these employments must be added attempts to be-
nefit his temporary neighbours. It was one of his first
cares to form an accurate estimate of the moral and
religious state of the surrounding population. At Sand-
gate he found much to regret. " It is grievous," he
laments to Mr. Stephen, " to see this place — hot and cold
sea baths, library, billiard table, ponies, donkies, every
thing but a church, or chapel, or any thing of the kind,
though it is a sort of preserve of the Archbishop's.
There is not even a Sunday school. We are trying to
get something of the kind set on foot." He was almost
disqualified by feeble health from personal exertions in
visiting the poor ; yet what he could he did, even in this
way ; stopping often in his solitary walks to drop some
word of wisdom for those who casually met him . . .
" Thursday: walking early, met a boy aged fourteen,
John Russell, who cannot read, and utterly ignorant of
religion — did not know what would become of us here-
after— may this meeting be for good" . . . w7hile upon those
whose circumstances made it possible, he continually
pressed the happiness and duty of thus ministering to
their wants. " Miss E." he says this spring, " now going
on admirably. Her health and spirits improved, and she
very active amongst the cottagers, doing them good. A
most useful lesson taught by this ; that the best course
when any one is low-spirited and distressed with anxie-
ties, is to set them to action in doing good to others.
Trust thou in the Lord, and be doing good."

But one important subject now pressed for instant de-
cision. Lord Sidmouth had privately informed him that

1812.

RESIGNS SEAT FOR YORKSHIRE.

101

an immediate dissolution was at hand ; and the time was
therefore come, when he must make up his mind to re-
tain or resign the representation of his county. " 1
shrink," he says, when weighing all the arguments upon
the subject, " from absolutely deciding to resign my situ-
ation as from annihilation. Yet my judgment commends
it more and more; and it is not annihilation if I stay in
the House, though not for Yorkshire. May the Lord
guide me aright. The urgent claims of my children
upon my thoughts, time, and superintendence, strongly
enforce my relinquishment, and are the deciding conside-
ration. My declining health and memory seem im-
proved ; but I ought not to be an occasional attendant
on parliament if M. P. for Yorkshire. O Lord, give
me wisdom to guide me rightly. I mean to spend a day
in religious exercises, and to make this with my children
the great objects with God." His decision was soon
made, and was announced two days afterwards in the
following letter.

TO CHARLES DUNCOMBE, ESQ. DUNCOMBE PARK, YORKSHIRE.

" Sandgate, near Folkstone, Sept. 8, 1812.

" My dear Duncombe,

After much serious consideration, I have at last made
up my mind on the important point on which I wrote to
you some time ago — I have resolved to resign that high
station with which the kind partiality of my Yorkshire
friends has so long honoured me, and in which you have
yourself so kindly, and actively, and perseveringly con-
tributed to place me. The truth is, that I find I must
either continue to allot less time and thought to my
family than it justly claims, or that I must cease to be a
constant and assiduous member of parliament, which I
am sure I ought to be if I undertake so serious and
weighty a trust as that of the representative of the
county of York.

Yet I will fairly own to you that it is not altogether
without difficulty that I have brought myself to form this
determination; but my judgment being clear, and that

9*

102

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

after much and long reflection, (for it is more than a
year that this plan has been in contemplation,) and my
own opinion being confirmed by those of several of my
best friends, I ought no longer to hesitate ; and having
come to a decision, you are the first person to whom I
communicate it. The probability of a dissolution of par-
liament in the ensuing autumn is so strong, that it seemed
right for me to make up my mind ; and I will own to you
that I wish it to appear clear that I am not influenced in
my judgment by the fear of an opposition, of which, if
I were to offer myself, I am clear there would be no pro-
bability. The higher orders are not liable to sudden
changes of their opinions in cases of this sort, and I have
every reason to believe (some which no one almost
knows but myself, but which would be of very powerful
operation) that I should be warmly supported by the
great body of the clothiers. I hope you will not suspect
me of not estimating at their due amount the trouble and
expense which another contest would occasion to my
supporters ; but I own, that if I believed there were in a
certain quarter any design to oppose me, that very cir-
cumstance would produce in me so strong a disposition
to stand my ground, that I should find it very hard wTork
to force myself to retire, if I could do it at all — not, be-
lieve me, from persona! motives, though I dare not affirm
that they wrould not mix, but because I should no longer
think it my duty so to do ; for believing that four-fifths
at least of the freeholders are friendly to me, I could
not bear the idea of a member, be he who he may,
being forced upon our great county by the one-fifth of
the freeholders, against the sense of the other four parts,
merely by the dread of the expense of a contest ; which
our experience in 1807 proves may be carried on for a
sum by no means difficult to be raised in our county,
without pressing too heavily on the candidate himself.

But it is in confidence that to your private ear I thus
whisper my secret feelings, and as strictly secret I beg
you will consider what I have said. Though I have
consulted none but very particular friends, I cannot but
suspect that there has been some leaky vessel, and that

1812.

YORK RESIGNATION.

103

hence has arisen that abominable report of a compro-
mise between Mr. H. Lascelles and myself, which would
have been highly dishonourable to us both, though far
more so to me than to him. Several friends however on
whose judgments I place great reliance, are so earnest
with me not to quit parliament altogether, that I have
agreed to accept the very kind offer of a dear friend,
and through marriage a near relation, which will pro-
bably place me in a seat in which my occasional attend-
ance in the House of Commons will not be inconsistent
with other claims. But let this also be strictly entre nous
at present. I am doubtful as to the proper time of announ-
cing my intended resignation publicly, and shall be glad
of your opinion on that head, on which I mean also to
consult Creyke and another friend or two. If the disso-
lution of parliament should seem really likely, or pretty
certainly to take place, it might, and I conceive would,
become right for me to declare my intention without fur-
ther loss of time ; but if we seem likely to live through
another session, the declaration might this year be pre-
mature. I cannot conclude without thanking you most cor-
dially for all the kindness which I have experienced from
you during my connexion with York ; for though I am
not vain, or rather foolish enough to ascribe your support
to personal motives, which indeed would be a supposi-
tion dishonourable to yourself, yet I should be void of all
gratitude if its emotions were not called forth by the
long course of continued good offices writh which you
have favoured me. Let me again how7ever earnestly re-
quest, that all I have said may be at present considered
as strictly confidential.

Let me beg you to present my own and Mrs. W.'s
kind remembrances to Lady Charlotte, who, with all the
family, I hope is well, and to believe me, my dear D.
with real regard,

Yours very sincerely,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

His intentions did not long remain a secret. On the
21st, hearing from good authority that parliament was

104

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

about to be dissolved, he sent " his resigning advertise-
ment/' "I humbly trust that I have done right; but I
cannot say that I do not feel a good deal. Surely it is
much to quit such a situation with a high character, and
with the wishes of friends that I should retain it. I go
to prayer. My heart is deceitful, I scarcely know my-
self what it wishes, still my judgment is for Bramber."

This unexpected announcement was very variously
received. Those who had witnessed the amount of la-
bour which his sense of duty had long imposed upon
him, and compared it with the powers of his slight frame
and tender health, rejoiced in his decision.

His Yorkshire friends, almost to a man, lamented it.
" You cannot be ignorant," writes one of them, " that
by the nation in general you are looked up to as the ad-
vocate of religion amongst the higher orders of society,
and particularly in that legislative assembly, of which,
happily for this country, you have so long been a conspi-
cuous and efficient member."

The applause which he feared to seem to seek, fol-
lowed him into his retirement. The county at large on
the day of nomination recorded solemnly their judgment
of his character in an enthusiastic vote of their unani-
mous thanks ; and his own town of Hull followed with
a similar memorial of affection.

In the following fragment of his own dictation, his
long and singular connexion with the county is reviewed.

" Surely if I cannot but look back upon the circum-
stances which attended the first formation of my con-
nexion with the county of York without recognising the
traces of providential guidance, neither can I forbear to
acknowledge the same gracious favour in my having so
long continued in my honourable station. May I not
well wonder that in a county accustomed to so much at-
tention from its members, so much that was likely to
give offence should be endured in me without the slightest
expression of disapprobation. My religious character
and habits might alone be expected to produce disgust.
My never attending the county races, or even the as-
sizes; my never cultivating the personal acquaintance of

1812. REVIEW OF CONNECTION WITH YORKSHIRE. 105

the nobility and gentry (an omission which would have
been culpable, but for the expenditure it would have oc-
casioned of time which I wanted for important purposes);
my seldom visiting the county, sometimes not going into
it for several years together; — all these might fairly have
been expected to have alienated from me the good-will
of the freeholders ; yet it never produced this effect, and
I have every reason to believe that 1 never should have
experienced another opposition. But I began to per-
ceive traces of infirmity, which, from considerations
alike of duty and prudence, determined me to retire from
my dignified station, and to accept the friendly offer of
a seat in parliament which would absolve me from the
obligation of constant attendance.

" Several of my Yorkshire friends were for the first
time dissatisfied with me ; and the letters which I re-
ceived from various quarters were such as could not but
be gratifying to any liberal mind. And here I cannot
forbear mentioning a trifling anecdote, which is not
without importance in the proof it affords that the gene-
ral course of a public man may be approved by many
who may not concur with him in his political opinions.
On my way to the House of Commons one day soon after
my having exchanged my seat for Yorkshire for the
borough of Bramber, I met Mr. Sheridan. After we
had exchanged salutations, 6 Do you know,' said he,
* that 1 was near writing to you some little time ago V On
my asking the occasion of his intended letter, 6 Why,'
said he, * I read in the newspaper your farewell Address
to the Freeholders of Yorkshire, and though you and I
have not much agreed in our votes in the House of
Commons, yet I thought the independent part you acted
would render your retirement from parliament a public
loss. I was about therefore to write to you, to enforce
on you the propriety of reconsidering your determination
to retire, as I supposed, from public life, when I was in-
formed that you were to come into parliament for Bram-
ber; this information made me lay aside my intention."5

106

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

CHAPTER V.

Parental Character — Rules for Conduct — Owen of Lanark — Roman
Catholic Question — East India Missions.

His Sandgate retirement was now interrupted by the
conclusion of his children's holidays; as he wished him-
self to place one of his boys with a new tutor in Leices-
tershire. " On Friday last, he tells Lord Muncaster,
44 1 set out from Sandgate with my two boys, to convey
them to their respective places of education.

" I am now writing at the parsonage of Mr. Stephens'
eldest son, in one of the most rural villages of Oxford-
shire, secured almost to the point of being impregnable
by the badness of the roads, but surrounded by beech
woods, and truly dulcifying to the mind, as Burke would
have said when soured and fretted by the bustle and the
business of life." " Yesterday," he tells Mrs. W. from
the same place, " I was fully occupied till the evening,
when it would have been almost sacrilege and ingrati-
tude not to wralk for half an hour at least enjoying one
of the finest sun-settings and moon-risings which my
eyes ever beheld. Then my dear boys were with me
for some time, and we had some serious talk together.
But though I wras not occupied in writing to you, I was
thinking of you all. A lovelier evening for meditating I
never remember; and this is one of the finest mornings
for meditating that eye ever beheld. We had a very
pleasant evening at Harrow, and in the morning the
gradual accumulation of visiters at breakfast would have
reminded you of Kensington Gore, both as to matter and
manner: and the Kensington Gore precedent was com-
pletely followed, for we — some of us — retired to have a
consultation; but I must break off: I am delaying Ste-
phen and the boys from a stroll in the woods: I will
therefore only add a line or two. But I must tell you
how delighted I was with Lord Teignmouth, and all that
I saw at Harrow. You would also have been gratified

1812.

LETTER TO MRS. WILBERFORCE.

107

to see how Mrs. Samuel Thornton, always overflowing
with benevolence, seemed to enjoy Kensington Gore,
especially, she says, the verandah. 1 do not think I
have had so much pleasure a long time as from having
been able thus to contribute to the comfort of such kind
friends at a time when they needed it. Young Perceval
is a sweet young man, and in some of his features and
motions so like his father that it was impossible for any
one who, like me, had known and valued him, not to be
affected by seeing the son. Poor Perceval ! You know
the boys at Harrow speak publicly once a year, and all
the parents and Harrow men attend. Perceval, a week
or ten days before he was murdered, had bespoke rooms
at the inn that he might give a dinner to some friends
and relations who were to hear his son speak Cardinal
Wolsey's affecting speech in Henry VIII. 4 In the
midst of life we are in death.' I commend you to
God's protecting care, and to our gracious Saviour's
goodness."

This journey is a good illustration of his parental ten-
derness. " I had resolved," he writes to Mrs. Wilber-
fcrce from Leicestershire, " to set my face towards
Cambridge this very day ; but at length I thought it bet-
ter, (after a rumination on my pillow when I lay awake

against my will thinking of dear , who lay in a

little bed by my side fast asleep, and whom I conceived
I was about to leave for good,) to return southward.
I feel so nervous about leaving him, that but for shame
I think I should bring him back again." " After having

prayed with , and had a tete-a-tete with Mrs. ,

I set off for Leicester. Poor dear boy, he was much
affected at parting with me, turning round and bursting
into tears, first quietly, and afterwards with sobs. I was

near crying too as I said to Mrs. , ' I must get oft',

or else — ' but she I trust will watch over him with
Christian care."

Another incident on this journey must stand in his
own words. " I am much grieved at having yesterday
passed by, without stopping, a man in a ditch by the
road-side between Barnet and London, whom two or

108

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

three gentlemen were attending to. The Leeds coach
with the back seats empty was just behind, and multi-
tudes of passengers, so that help could not be wanted ;
yet it was wrong in all respects to pass by. It is an
adjudged case since the good Samaritan parable — at
which I should have been instinctively prompt. It was
not hardness of heart I believe either. I was busy hear-
ing Bowdler's paper upon Dugald Stewart, and I was
flurried by the Leeds coach, on the outside of which
were people who I thought knew me ; yet if so it was
worse — not glorifying God, &c. Lord, forgive me, for-
give me ! I felt (and now condemn it) more, that to-day
is the anniversary (Oct. 25th) of my escape from drown-
ing in the Avon, by a most providential suggestion."
So little had thirty-two years of public life hardened his
affections, or blunted a most tender conscience.

On the 26th of October he was again at Sandgate,
and purposing to " set apart a day for devotional exer-
cises, in which my main objects will be Divine guidance
and blessing as to my children, and for a blessing on
my new plan of life. For guidance and strength to
walk in the right path. Oh what cause have I for
gratitude !"

To the eye of a stranger he appeared at this time full
" ten years older" than he was; but more intimate ac-
quaintance removed this impression. Delicacy of health
had indeed set on him already some of the external
marks of age, and a stoop which he contracted early
and which lessened his apparent stature, added much to
this effect. But the agility of his step, the quickness of
all his senses, (though he only heard with one ear,) his
sparkling eye, and the compass and beauty of his voice,
contradicted all these first appearances. And those who
listened with delight to the freshness and exuberance of
thoughts, sometimes deeply serious, sometimes playful
and humorous, which enriched his conversation, could
hardly believe that he had long borne the weight even
of manly years. At the breakfast table, and again from
the setting in of evening until midnight were his gayest
times; at the last, especially, all his faculties were in the

1812.

LETTER TO HANNAH MORE.

109

fullest exercise; and when being read to in the family
circle, which was his delight, he poured forth all his
stores, gathering around him book after book to illus-
trate, question, or confirm, the immediate subject of the
evening. On the 5th Nov. 1812, he thus writes to
Mrs. Hannah More.

" You really provoke me, my dear friend, when you
begin your letter by saying that you are always sorry
to break -in upon me. As if you did not know, that to
hear from you is always to me like a piece of fine
smooth-shaven down to a horseman who is almost worn
out by plodding his weary way through deep clayey
roads, or picking his steps among stony paths. The
very animal he rides Js revived by the change, and in-
stinctively sets up a canter. I suppose my reader is the
animal's archetype ; though he, less lively than the four-
footed performer, does not seem to partake of the anima-
tion. Or rather, to speak the truth, he would not, for I
need not assure you that I do not commit your epistles
to his perusal. The idea was suggested by his being at
this moment at my side, in a state not unaptly described
by my representation. # # # # #

" To see so little of you is a standing grievance of my
life (I speak seriously). But you possess a first place in
my heart. May the Almighty support and bless you.
I am concerned for poor Patty also. But this vile body !
is to be the exclamation here below. By and by it will
be, Thanks to God, who hath given us the victory
through Jesus Christ ! Farewell. Let me hear from
you occasionally, and never be so affected again as to
talk of breaking in upon me.

" Mrs. Wilberforce desires me to send her kindest
remembrances; give mine to the sisterhood, and be-
lieve me,

Ever your sincere and affectionate friend,

W. Wilberforce.
" P. S. Alas ! alas ! this sad war with America !
I never felt any public incident so deeply. Yet on the
whole I thank God I can lay my head on my pillow in

VOL. TI. 10

110

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

peace, for our government is not chargeable with the
blood-guiltiness; but Madison, Jefferson, &c."

In the quiet hours which he could now command, he
was looking forward to his London life, and resolving
on such rules as he thought would be then useful to him.
Above all he now determined, " when not unavoidably
prevented by company or House of Commons, to take
an hour, or at least half an hour, for private ^devotions,
including Scripture reading and meditation, immediately
before family prayers. Besides other benefits, one will
be to send me back into society with a more spiritual
mind, and to help me to preserve it through the evening,
and to make the conversation more edifying and instruc-
tive. How can I expect a blessing otherwise? Oh let
me reform here; it has been my standing sin of late:
I must therefore remember that I shall find it difficult to
adhere to the reformed system. The best hope will
arise from my bearing about with me a deep impression
of the difficulty, and of my own weakness, and of the
urgent need of Divine help. — Also aim at universal holi-
ness, guard against self-indulgence, and love of human
estimation. Oh how that vile passion will creep in !
Even now it is at work fold within fold. Lord, Thou
knowest me; I cast myself on Thy pardoning mercy
and sanctifying grace."

Upon his return to London, he set apart a day for
more especial private devotions. " I have had serious
doubts, whether or not it is right to do so when I have
so many important subjects to consider, and so much to
do; yet the examples as well as the writings of good
men, and above all, the Holy Scriptures, taking the pre-
cepts which directly treat of fasting and comparing them
with others, warrant it. N. B. Christ's words about the
demons, which expelled only by fasting and prayer.
Then as to my being nowT extremely occupied, Owen's
remark in some degree applies, (inference from Malachi,)
that wre should give God if needful our best time. O Lord,
Thy blessing can render far more than a day's time as
nothing even in my worldly business, and if" the main-

1812.

DIARY.

Ill

spring's force be strengthened, and its working improved,
(cleansed from dust and foulness,) surely the machine
will go better. Lord, what 1 do I trust is pleasing to
Thee, accept and bless my service."

" Let me look over my 6 grounds for humiliation,' my
* company regulations.' How sadly apt am I to lose all
recollection of these, and of keeping my heart when I
am in society ! Lord, strengthen me with .might. Let
Christ dwell, not merely occasionally visit, but dwell in
my heart by faith. Let me cultivate more an habitual
love of God — Butler and Barrow — habitual gratitude.
Let me try some memorandum analogous to the phy-
lactery. See Numb. xv. 38, 40.

With such resolutions he returned to London life, and
found himself as much engrossed with public affairs as
when he represented the interests of the tenth part of the
kingdom. The important questions which continually
recurred before the House of Commons — The condition
of Europe — The war with America — and African sla-
very, all pressed upon his attention, but not to the ex-
clusion of other things. The following extracts from
his Diary exhibit a lively picture of his occupations.

" Dec. 7th. Breakfasters numerous, and not clear from
company till time to go to British and Foreign Bible
Society's monthly committee meeting, to get a grant of
Testaments for the West Indies ; 2000 willingly granted.
To Babingtorfs and wrote letters. Met Butterworth
fresh from Ireland . . his communications show sad hos-
tility of mind between Protestants and Roman Catholics . .
then House. Moving for papers about Slave Trade
at Cape, and Mauritius. Lord Wellington's grant of
£100,000 to buy an estate. After the House a discussion
at Henry Thornton's with Babington, the Dean, and
Stephen. At night home with the Dean. 8th. Fuller
of Kettering breakfasted, and talked much about East
Indian Gospel Communication plan. Then town, Ma-
nufacturers' Committee — Duke of Kent in the chair,
and very civil Then Hatchard's letters — home to dinner
- — Stephen, Simeon, the Dean, and others — the House.
12th. Forced to dine with the Duke of Gloucester. One

112

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1812.

of his mixed parties — Lord Sidmouth — Vansittart — Has-
tings, quite aged. All splendid — Lord Sidmouth — clever.
Sheridan said of a person whom Lord Sidmouth does
not like, O he has an iron heart, but Lord Sidmouth has
a fine spirit. 14th. To town to find out about Dr. B —
from Yarmouth, who had written for £20, without which
he with his wife would be ruined — could learn nothing —
so sent it doubtingly. African Institution, and home.
V oice not well to-day. Duchess of York took my an-
telope. 18th. Letters and callers till two. African In-
stitution. House on grant to Russia £200,000* — spoke
but middlingly. 23d. To town about twelve to meet
Brougham at Lord Bathurst's about Parke's Journals.
Heard of Russian meeting, and that Duke of York in the
chair. Went to Crown and Anchor, and found Lord
Liverpool, Duke of York, Lord Castlereagh, N. Van-
sittart, Lord Harrowby, Lord Buckinghamshire, and
several under secretaries, and four or five Russian
merchants — Samuel Thornton speaking — sixty or seventy
common people — meeting utterly unknown — tried to get
it put off; but being desired to speak, did shortly —
rather pressing adjournment, but they had not presence
of mind for it. Brougham had sent to know if any
Whig, and then he would come. I pressed him to write
to Lord Holland to make a second meeting. I fear the
folly, if not worse, of not taking pains to have a full
meeting, (perhaps for fear of having the business taken
out of certain hands,) prevented more notice ; and now
there is danger of its being considered as cooked up
between ministers and a few interested Russian mer-
chants— sad, so to spoil a noble work which would
have taken admirably, and have given rise to a noble
testimony of national admiration, esteem, benevolence,
and gratitude. 24th. Town — read Report, corrected
from Allen's draught at Freemasons' Hall — distressed
manufacturers — Duke of Cambridge in the chair — he had

* The sum of 200,0007. was voted for the relief of the sufferings brought
upon the Russians by their gallant resistance to the common enemy.
The meeting of the 23d, was to raise funds for the same purpose by
private charity.

1812.

MR. OWEN OF LANARK.

113

never heard of Russian meeting, nor Stephen. So vexed
at the folly of its managers, that after talking with
Brougham and Lord Bathurst, I wrote to Lord Liverpool
and S. Thornton to get the meeting stated as a pre-
liminary one before Christmas. 26th. To Lord Liver-
pool's by half-past eleven, to confer about undoing the
evil done by the Russian subscription management.
Lord Harrowby, Vansittart, S. Thornton came. Agreed
upon notifying another meeting — acting on my advice.
Still I fear all or a hundredth part of the mischief cannot
be undone. Thence to secretary of Russian embassy, to
tell him that the manufacturers wished to give supplies of
manufactures.

" 30th. Owen of Lanark, Dale's son-in-law and part-
ner, breakfasted with me, and stayed long talking w7ith
me of his plan of education, and of rendering manufac-
tures and morals compatible." This visit was renewed
soon after, and Mr. Grant and Henry Thornton met Mr.
Owen by appointment. When Mr. Owen wras proceeding
to detail his schemes, he gently hinted that the ladies pre-
sent might be suffered to retire from a discussion which
must prove beyond their comprehension. Mr. Wilber-
force eagerly dissented from the proposition ; and it was
well for Mr. Owen that he yielded, for he had not read
long before " Grant, Henry Thornton and I were all fast
asleep, and the despised ladies were his only real audi-
ence." " One of my great principles, Mr. Wilberforce,"
said the schemer, " is, that persons ought to place them-
selves in the situation of others, and act as they would
wish themselves to be treated." " Is that quite a new
principle, Mr. Owen?" was his answer, with that look of
suppressed humour, which gave his countenance an arch-
ness of expression whi(!h no description can convey. " I
think I have read something very like it in a book called
the New Testament." " Very possibly it may be so,"
gravely answered the imperturbable philosopher. Yet
such was his universal kindness, that Mr. Owen left him
to tell others that Mr. Wilberforce was charmed with his
discoveries.

At times, in the secret struggles of his heart, he la-
10*

114

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1813.

ments that he was " unable to realize the presence of God.
It was as if there had been a wall of separation that I
could not penetrate or see over; and my heart dead and
cold. Surely it is not enthusiasm to notice these sensa-
tions, as David does. Lord, renew and quicken me."
But this was not his common state. His secret entries
testify that habitual peace, combined with the deepest
humility, were in him the blessed fruits of keeping God's
watch carefully. They are well expressed in an entry
at this time. " I am just returned from a highly impres-
sive sermon by Mr. Dunn. I hope that my sensibility is
in some degree the effect of the Holy Spirit, the knock-
ing of Christ at the door of my heart. I must not spend
any of my few minutes before dinner in writing; but let
me just record my feelings of deep humiliation, yet of
confiding, though humble faith — looking to the Saviour
as my only ground of hope. I cast myself at the foot of
the cross, bewTailing my exceeding sinfulness and unpro-
fitableness, deeply, most deeply aggravated by the infi-
nity of my mercies. I plead thy precious promises, and
earnestly pray to Thee to shed abroad in my heart more
love, more humility, more faith, more hope, more peace,
and joy; in short, to fill me with all the fulness of God,
and make me more meet to be a partaker of the inheri-
tance of the saints in light. Then shall I also be better
in all the relations of life in which I am now so defec-
tive, and my light will shine before men, and I shall
adorn the doctrine of God my Saviour in all things.''

A busy session was now opening on him. " 1 am
reading," he says, (Feb. 5th,) "on Catholic Emancipation,
and thinking too. I grieve to see so much prejudice.
Talking the question over with friends; one, though a
most able man, not knowing that Dissenters may sit in
parliament." This question now agitated all the country,
and there were " meetings against Roman Catholics in
all parts of England." " I am very doubtful which way
right." This was his only question ; general popularity
and party principle wTere no rule for him to steer by; and
though he suffered keenly from shocking, upon such a
question, the conscientious scruples of those whose prin-

1813.

ROMAN CATHOLIC QUESTION.

115

ciples he most esteemed, yet even this feeling could not
for a moment bias his decision. " Lord direct me," he
prays on this question ; " all the religious people are on
the other side, but they are sadly prejudiced." " It grieves
me to separate from the Dean, and all my religious
friends ; but conscience must be obeyed. God does not
direct us to use carnal weapons in his cause." He dis-
plays at this time the exact balance of his mind in a let-
ter to William Hey.

" Near London, Feb. 22, 1813.

" My Dear Sir,

I have been and still am longing to devote my time and
thoughts to the Roman Catholic question ; yet pamphlets
and other documents lie unopened on my table. My
opinion is far from made up on that momentous subject;
and I heartily wish I could employ a few weeks in quietly
studying and considering it. It is not however on this
head that 1 now take up the pen to address you, though
mindful of your late kind communications, I begin with
a few words on it; and having touched on it, I will go
on to add, that I am quite decided against granting to
the Roman Catholics eligibility to all civil offices. My
chief doubts are concerning their admissibility into par-
liament: and there is one consideration v/hich I do not
see that even you yourself, who to do you justice have
considered the question more maturely than nineteen-
twentieths of those who write or speak on it, have duly
borne it in mind. The Bishop of Lincoln's charge,
which is otherwise able, entirely leaves it out, and even
proceeds on a supposition of there being no such con-
sideration. It is that whatever the Roman Catholics, if
admitted into the House of Commons, could effect through
the medium of law for establishing their hierarchy and
injuring that of the Protestants in Ireland, they can do
just as well (in one important respect better) through the
medium of members of parliament, called Protestants,
but who being elected by Roman Catholic voters, and
having little or no real religion themselves, are implicitly
subservient to their constituents' purposes. I say, they

116

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1813.

can serve the Roman Catholics even better in one respect,
inasmuch as they do not call into action the opposite
Protestant spirit in the same degree.

But while the Roman Catholics thus possess parlia-
mentary influence, they do not possess it in such a manner
as to render it a personal privilege, or gratification to
them ; and therefore so as to give them an interest in the
existing legislature, and to connect them to the Protestant
system by the various ties which unite men w7ho act to-
gether in parliament, and which would render it impro-
bable that they would join a foreign enemy in separating
Ireland from Great Britain ; and where can be the
wisdom of retaining the prison dress, when you have set
the men at liberty'? I must break off. I remain, my
dear sir, with cordial esteem and regard,

Your sincere and affectionate friend,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

Under this view it was a mere question of political
expediency. The principle had been long since conceded.
Political power the Romanists possessed already, and the
only object was to provide for its being most innocently
exercised. He was now almost convinced that this end
would be promoted by a change of system ; for that " the
actual state of the laws," as he told Mr. Charles Butler,
" so far from affording any security to the Established
Church, or to the Protestant cause in general, augmented
their danger ; and so far from lessening or weakening
the influence of the Roman Catholic church over its
members, maintained and extended its force."

As yet, though he " had prepared" himself " upon this
question," he " had found no opportunity for taking part
in the debate. Lord, direct me. I have been reading
some of the East Indian charter documents, which are
immensely voluminous; and on Catholic Question. How
difficult it is to attain to truth in these complicated cases ;
and therefore with what moderation should we hold our
own opinions, and with what candour allow for those of
others ; whereas in both the exact opposite prevails !
Alas ! Lord, guide and bless me. Blessed be God, they

1813.

CHRISTIANITY IN INDIA.

117

cannot be finally wrong in thy sight who obey conscience,
having taken due pains to inform themselves and judge
rightly." _

But this great question was far from having an un-
divided hold upon his thoughts. Besides many other
minor matters, he had perfectly resolved to fight to the
very last the battle of Christianity in India, and the mo-
ment of the contest now drew near. Though he had
been long making preparations, he had not satisfied him-
self. " 1 sadly fear," he says on the 16th of March,
" that we have been too negligent about the grand
question of communicating Christianity to our Indian
fellow-subjects. We have heard of excellent Martyn's
death in Persia, on his way to the Mediterranean home-
wards. It is a mysterious Providence. Alas, when the
interior is opened, the missionary and religious party in
India are not so much at one, nor so free from human
infirmity, as I had supposed. Oh did the world see into
the hearts of religious professors, how much would it
triumph over them ! Yet they are better as well as
worse than the world suspects. It confirms old Baxter,
1 Good men neither so good, nor bad men often so bad,
as the world supposes.' "

It was evident that the struggle would be arduous.
The great mass of Anglo-Indians were convinced that
the attempt to Christianize the East must infallibly cost
us our dominion ; and though they might reluctantly
assent to the scanty ecclesiastical establishment for the
English residents in India, which government had been
persuaded to propose, they were determined to abate
none of their hostility to missionary efforts. They pro-
posed therefore that the entire regulation of the subject
should be left for the next twenty years to the East India
Company, who had unequivocally shown what would be
their rule of conduct. On this point then the contest
was to turn.

The temper of the House of Commons could not be
mistaken, and it was only by bringing forcibly to bear
upon it the religious feeling of the country, that he could
hope to carry through this most important measure.

118

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1813.

And now that he was in the strife, he set about the
necessary steps with an energy and resolution which
had never been exceeded even in the vigour of his early
manhood, when he fought the Abolition battle. " The
truth is," he tells Mr. Hey, " and a dreadful truth it is,
that the opinions of nine-tenths, or at least of a vast
majority, of the House of Commons would be against
any motion which the friends of religion might make;
but I trust it is very different in the body of our people ;
and petitions are to be promoted with a view to bring
their sentiments and feelings to bear upon the opposite
tenets and dispositions of the members of parliament.
Surely there can be no doubt that all who are zealous in
the cause of Christ would do their utmost to enlighten
our East India fellow-subjects. I must have sent you a
letter which I drew up last year for general circulation:
I would send a copy but that it is out of print. It was
composed too hastily, but it contained such arguments
and motives as I think no Christian could resist."

Not a day was lost in calling to his aid the expressed
religious feeling of the country. On the day following
the first debate he wrote a multitude of letters to all his
leading country correspondents in the following strain.

" London, March 25,1813.

< ' My dear Sir,

I wish I had an hour or two which I could give to
writing to you, but I have scarce as many minutes.
The subject on which I wish to open my mind to you is
the pending renewal of the East India Company's charter,
and the opportunity it offers of doing away that great
national crime of committing the control of the only
entrance for religious light and moral improvement into
India to the Directors, who are decidedly adverse to
every attempt that can be made to Christianize, or raise
in the scale of being our East Indian fellow-subjects.

I beg you will attend to these last expressions; for
great as is the importance of the subject in a religious
point of view, it is only less important in that of humanity.
It is a shocking idea that we should leave sixty millions

1813.

CHRISTIANITY IN INDIA.

119

of our fellow-subjects, nay of our tenants, (for we collect
about seventeen millions sterling from the rent of their
lands,) to remain in a state of barbarism and ignorance,
the slaves of the most cruel and degrading superstition,
lest they should not be so easily governed by a small
number of Europeans; though it is the opinion of many
of the ablest East Indian statesmen that this doctrine is
as false as it is wicked; and that by gradually and pru-
dently proceeding to Christianize our East Indian popu-
lation we should greatly add to the stability of our
Oriental empire. Now 1 grieve to say, it is intended to
commit, as before, to the Court of Directors the uncon-
trolled power of granting licenses, without which no one
shall be permitted to go to India; indeed to leave them
the exclusive direction as to religious and moral concerns
in all that regards our East Indian dominions. Mr.
Stephen, I, and others, loudly exclaimed against the pro-
posed system of barring out all moral and religious light
from the East Indies, and declared that wTe were confi-
dent the friends of religion, morality, and humanity
throughout the kingdom would petition on the subject.
Now you I trust will make good our words. You peti-
tioned in the case of the Slave Trade, and those petitions
were eminently useful ; so they would be now ; and
what is more, after having been talked of, their not
coming would be highly injurious ; so lose no time. The
petitions should be from each place separately.

To you I will confess I feel another consideration
strongly. The Methodists and Dissenters will, I doubt
not, petition ; but let it not be said that they only take an
interest in the happiness of mankind, and that the mem-
bers of our Church are not as zealous when there is a real
call for such exertions. I cannot write to-day to Hud-
dersfield, or Bradford, but do you exert yourself.

I remain ever sincerely yours,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

He was now " excessively busy stirring up petitions,"
feeling that it was " the greatest object which men ever
pursued." "The spirit of petitioning scarcely spreads

120

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1813.

as one could wish." Yet the leaven was at work, and
he soon adds, that " already Bristol, Hull, Glasgow, (ex-
cellent resolutions,) and Birmingham have spoken out."
His own personal efforts meanwhile were incessant.
Upon the 24th of March he went "early to town to
Freemasons' Hall for committee of annual meeting of
the African Institution. After business over, consulted
about East India charter's religious bearing, and agreed
on a public meeting for Monday, March 29th." Two
days later he was again " off early, and after calling at
Lord Liverpool's and Buckinghamshire's, to Seeley's.
Meeting of committee on the religious bearing of the
East India Company's charter. Long discussion." On
the Monday following, March 29th, " an effective public
meeting on the subject was held at the City of London
Tavern."

On the next day began the examination of the witnesses
before the House of Commons. This was now his daily
business. " Writing almost all morning about East India
charter — examinations, sharp work — extreme ignorance
and bigotry. We examine daily from half-past four to
near eight before other business." The object of the
enemies of missions may be seen from the general tenor
of their questions. " Would not," they inquired, " the
appearance of bishops encourage a fear amongst the
natives that force would ultimately be used to establish
Christianity amongst them ?" 44 Would it be consistent
with the security of the British Empire in India, that
missionaries should preach publicly that Mahomet is an
impostor, or speak in opprobrious terms of the Brahmins
and their religious rites?' In such an examination they
had clearly a perilous advantage. Few or no witnesses
could be produced to prove the safety of what had so
rarely been attempted ; wThilst almost every Anglo-Indian
was ready to come forward and swell by his separate
evidence the general cry of danger.

This made the issue of the question most uncertain ;
" I should not much wonder if, unless the sense of the
religious part of the public is expressed by petitions, both
the ecclesiastical establishment for India, and all security

1813.

CHRISTIANITY IN INDIA.

121

for preventing the door from being barred against the
admission of religious and moral light, should be alto-
gether abandoned. Now this conduct it appears to me
would be one of the most crying insults that ever called
down the vengeance of Heaven. While we are going
so far in favouring the Roman Catholics, shall Chris-
tianity be the only religion which is not to be tolerated
in India?"

The examinations were evidently tending towards this
result ; and something must be attempted to prevent a
fatal impression of the risk of all exertion being fixed
upon the House. No time was to be lost ; and as the
examination by the Lords was to commence the following
day, a meeting was summoned on Sunday, the 4th of
April, at Henry Thornton's, Palace Yard, at three—
" Stephen, Grant, Henry Thornton, Babington, and I, to
discuss about the Lords' examination of witnesses on
religious business — agreed that I should call to-morrow
on Lord Grenville and Lord Wellesley, and settled one
or two other points. Dined there, which 1 had not done
on Sunday since I lived there."

He was so convinced that his cause could only be
carried by the influence of the religious community, that
although one Anglo-Indian witness had declared "the
resolutions of the recent meeting in the city likely to
excite a general ferment amongst the Hindoos, and
favour an idea which (once obtained) would cause our
expulsion from Bengal and India," he determined on
appealing to another. On the 13th, therefore, he was
"early in the city, at the general meeting of the Church
Missionary Society for Africa and the East. Made the
report of our deputation, and agreed to a petition to both
Houses, for introducing Christianity in India. As the
best means of supplying the defect which was occasioned
by the omission of all evidence upon the subject of reli-
gion, he "moved for sundry papers to illustrate the
moral character of the Hindoos, and the shocking prac-
tices prevalent there."

The Easter week now for a short time intercepted the
proceedings of the House of Commons, and he had long

VOL. II. 1 1

122

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1813.

been engaged to spend it with his family in visiting Lord
Gambier. u Our going put off once or twice already,
but after a severe struggle I resolved to give it up en-
tirely. I cannot spare the time now, when it is so much
needed for East Indian religion and seeing people on it."
This was one great branch of his exertions. All had
access to him, and he could enter everywhere. He
was the link between the most dissimilar allies. Bishops
and Baptists found in him a common term. " x\fter
breakfast Messrs. Gutteridge, Weymouth, and Shaw,
three Baptist committee gentlemen, called on me about
East India Baptist missionaries. Called on the Bishop
of St. David's, and tried to stir him up." " Called Earl

's about East India religious business, found him full

of prejudice and ignorance. How sad that so noble a
mind as his should be rendered so indifferent to the hap-
piness of our fellow-creatures !"

In the midst of this engrossing struggle, he was threat-
ened with a serious attack of sickness, and for one day
was very ill. The temper of his mind under this dis-
tressing interruption, is a striking proof of the degree in
which the prayer with which he entered on the cause
had graciously been answered. He had asked for sim-
plicity of purpose, and his cheerfulness when laid aside,
shows how pure had been the motives of his activity.
" April 24th. A blank day ; and really I can do nothing
but think of God's goodness to me, in that even when I
arn ill, I suffer no pain. General Calvert told me of

Col. 's most painful operation, (twenty minutes long,)

after great previous suffering, undergoing immense fa-
tigues, and unable to spare himself when suffering agonies.
Oh ! how much will men bear for a corruptible crown !
Poor fellow ! it is very affecting. May God touch his
heart. How thankful ought I to be for having been
spared it all ! Here, as usual, God most merciful. My
Saviour spares me."

The hidden safeguard of his happy simplicity of pur-
pose, may be found in the record of his secret hours.
" Secured," he says at his busiest time, " an hour for
private devotions this morning and yesterday, and found

1813.

EFFORTS TO CHRISTIANIZE INDIA.

123

the effects of it." " This East Indian object," was his
declaration when he undertook it, " is assuredly the
greatest that ever interested the heart, or engaged the
efforts of man. How wonderful that a private man
should have such an influence on the temporal and eter-
nal happiness of millions ; literally, millions on millions
yet unborn ! O God, make me more earnest for Thy
glory; and may I act more from real love and gratitude
to my redeeming Lord." " Oh how does this little check
of sickness," he continues after his recovery, " impress
on me the duty of working while it is day ; the night
cometh when no man can work ! Let me not take my
estimate of myself from others who do not know me, but
from my own self-knowledge and conscience. Oh what
cause have I for contrition ! What misspent time, what
wasted talents, what means of grace (no one so many
and so great) with how little profit ; what self-indulgent
habits ; what softness, instead of the hardness of a good
soldier of Christ ! It may be shown in any improper want
of self-denial. O Lord, may my faith and love be more
active, bringing forth more the fruits of the Spirit."

In this temper he resumed his work. Its conduct
needed great address. All the feeling of the more reli-
gious classes of the nation must be brought effectively
to bear, for political assistance he had none.

The fresh application upon which the friends of the
cause now decided had a more favourable issue. May
26th, he says, " Lord Buckinghamshire acceded to our
terms ;" and on the following day when he " visited the
public offices, Lord Castlereagh agreed to Lord Bucking-
hamshire's and our arrangements for East India Christian-
izing Resolutions — far surpassing my expectations." " Let
me express my humiliation," he adds upon the following
Sunday, " and my gratitude to God, for enabling us to
agree with government as to the conditions for sending
out missionaries, and in general as to improving, moral-
izing, and Christianizing India. I humbly hope that God
has great designs in view for the East, and that they
will be executed by Great Britain."^

But though the government yielded to his wishes the

124

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE..

1813.

battle was not over. The Resolutions which they had
adopted, the House of Commons might reject; and in
the House of Commons lay the strength of the Anglo-
Indian party. The day of trial was approaching ; upon
the 22d of June Lord Castlereagh moved the adoption of
the 13th Resolution. " The appearance of the House at
the beginning of the evening was as bad as could be, but
Lord Castlereagh opened the subject very discreetly and
judiciously." The morning of the 22d had been given
up to preparation, and he was now at his post, with his
mind full of his subject. Never did he speak with greater
power, or produce more impression. Twenty years be-
fore, he had appeared in the same place, the eloquent ad-
vocate of the same cause. He had beyond all expecta-
tion been spared to lead the onset in a new engagement;
and he told the House that his silence during that long
period was not because the subject had faded from
his recollection, but because he had meanwhile been de-
voted to the payment of another debt to humanity which
was even yet but imperfectly discharged. He went
through the whole subject at length, proving the degraded
character of the Hindoo superstition, and calmly reason-
ing out his own conclusions ; yet relieving the unavoida-
ble prolixity of such a speech by occasional flashes of
the brightest eloquence. " He who knows my heart,"
he said in closing his account of the Hindoo superstitions,
" knows that 1 have not drawn this melancholy picture
to exult over its blackness. It is with grief and shame
I view it; mourning, sir, over my own country, which
for fifty years and more has left so many millions of our
fellow-creatures in this state of misery and vice. I am
not bringing a bill of indictment against the Indian race
— but I have lived long enough to learn 'that flatterers are
not friends.' I am the true friend of this people, who
am willing to allow their present degradation, that I may
raise them to a higher level."

" We carried it, about 89 to 36, beyond all hope. I
heard afterwards that many good men had been pray-
ing for us all night. Oh what cause for thankfulness ;
yet almost intoxicated with success." The impression

1813.

DR. CAREY.

125

of nine hundred petitions, a number them wholly with-
out precedent on such a subject, could not be mistaken.
" Let no man think," was Mr. Wilberforce's warning to
the House, " that the petitions which have loaded our
table, have been produced by a burst of momentary en-
thusiasm ; or that the zeal of the petitioners will be soon
expended. No, sir, it will be found to be steady as the
light of heaven. While the sun and moon continue to
shine in the firmament, so ldng will this object be pur-
sued with unabated ardour until the great work be ac-
complished."

One great argument of his opponents was grounded
on the enthusiastic character which they imputed to the
missionary body. India hitherto had seen no missionary
who was a member of the English Church, and impu-
tations could be cast more readily on " Anabaptists and
fanatics." These attacks Mr. Wilberforce indignantly
refuted, and well had the noble conduct of the band at
Serampore deserved this vidication. " 1 do not know,"
he often said, " a finer instance of the moral sublime,
than that a poor cobbler working in his stall should con-
ceive the idea of converting the Hindoos to Christianity ;
yet such was Dr. Carey. Why Milton's planning his
Paradise Lost in his old age and blindness was nothing
to it. And then when he had gone to India, and was
appointed by Lord Wellesley to a lucrative and honoura-
ble station in the college of Fort William, with equal
nobleness of mind, he made over all his salary (between
£1000 and £1500 per annum) to the general objects of
the mission. By the way, nothing ever gave me a more
lively sense of the low and mercenary standard of your
men of honour, than the manifest effect produced upon
the House of Commons by my stating this last circum-
stance. It seemed to be the only thing which moved
them." Dr. Carey had been especially attacked, and " a
few days afterwards the member who had made this
charge came to me, and asked me in a manner which in
a noted duellist could not be mistaken, ' Pray, Mr. Wil-
berforce, do you know a Mr. Andrew Fuller, who has
written to desire me to retract the statement which I

11*

126

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1813.

made with reference to Dr. Carey?' 1 Yes,' I answered
with a smile, * I know him perfectly, but depend upon
it you will make nothing of him in your way ; he is
a respectable Baptist minister at Kettering.' In due time
there came from India an authoritative contradiction of
the slander. It wras sent to me, and for two whole years
did I take it in my pocket to the House of Commons to
read it to the House whenever the author of the accusa-
tion should be present; but during that whole time he
never once dared to show himself in the House."

His own personal influence had been a powerful instru-
ment in gaining this successful result. Never had he
been able to bring forward in the House so openly his
own religious principles ; never had they been more
respectfully received. " Last session," says a shrewd
and even caustic critic, whose sentiments were wholly
different, u when the House had been tired night after
night writh discussing the endless questions relating to
Indian policy, Mr. YVilberforce, with a just confidence in
his powers, ventured to broach the hackneyed subject
of Hindoo conversion. He spoke three hours, but nobody
seemed fatigued : all indeed were pleased ; some with the
ingenious artifices of his manner, but most with the glow-
ing language of his heart. Much as I differed from him
in opinion, it was impossible not to be delighted with his
eloquence ; and though I wish most heartily that the
Hindoos might be left to their own Trinity, yet I felt dis-
posed to agree with him, that some good must arise to
the human mind, by being engaged in a controversy
which will exercise most ofits faculties."

His friends were looking with some anxiety to the
effect which these great exertions might produce upon his
weakly frame.

This too was far from having been his sole business
in the last session. Almost every day had brought its
separate burden. A few extracts from his Diary, with
which it was impossible to break the chain of facts con-
nected with his leading business, will show howr closely
the interstices it left were packed with other matters.

"March 4th. Lock Hospital meeting. Then African

1813.

JOURNAL.

127

institution — Duke of Gloucester. Dined Henry Thorn-
ton's, and House. 5th. Hudson and Smith, chemists
about Apothecaries' Bill. Then Burder and Osgood
about latter's plan. Wrote a little. Town — Berbice
* meeting. Long talk with Lord about the gover-
nor's ill usage of us. Poor Lord very unreasona-
ble and positive. How calm one can be, when acting
with real disinterestedness! Yet curious, that I only
arguing with him for his own interest and credit's sake.
19th. Castlereagh showed me what he had told me be-
fore, Sweden's abolition and Guadaloupe surrender —
Euge. April 7th. Jews — London Tavern. First stone
laying at Bethnall Green — Duke of Kent, Lord Erskine
and Dundas, &c. Dinner afterwards. Grand day, and
above £1000 collected. Erskine's animated speech.
Way's fire. Frey's pathos. 10th. African Institution
meeting. Lords Grenville, Landsdown, &c. about Re-
gistry Bill, and large meeting. 20th. Canning came to
me about Roman Catholic Bill; with him to Mr. Pon-
sonby by Grattan's desire. Mr. Elliot there. Sir J.
Newport, Romilly, and Sir Ar. Pigott, besides Ponsonby
and Grattan. Talked over the matter. 28th. Breakfast
with Canning. After talking over Roman Catholic busi-
ness, to Hatchard's, to meet Blair, Pearson, John Villier's,
&c. to revive the Lock Asylum. 29th. Forced to attend
a meeting for Lock Asylum — right, but an hour and
half expended. Called Grattan's, Lord Erskine's and
Donoughmore's. Lodgings — and House. Then with
Henry Thornton to City of London Tavern — anniversary
dinner for foreigners in distress, Duke of Gloucester in
the chair — very civil. Near 200 people, and excellent
object, but no foreign minister. Near £1000 collected
after dinner.

" May 4th. Annual sermon, and meeting of Church
Missionary Society for Africa and East. Dealtry, ex-
cellent sermon. Meeting afterwards and spoke. Late
to Asiatic Society, where took the chair — then House.
5th. British and Foreign Bible Society anniversary — full
meeting — I spoke, and well received. Dined Lord Teign-
mouth's — Bishops of Salisbury, St. David's, Cloyne;

128

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1813.

and Norwich was to have been there, but prevented.
6th, Prayer Book and Homily Society — spoke, after a
sermon, which could not attend causa meeting at Glou-
cester House — Lord Grey, Lansdown, Stephen, Macau-
lay, Harrison, Vansittart, about Registry Bill. 7th. Jew-'
ish Meeting Anniversary — sermon yesterday, Randolph
of Bath — I spoke. 12th. Archbishop of Cashel called
morning — much talk with him about Ireland. 13th.
Morning busy. Dined hastily Henry Thornton's. House
on Catholic Question. Charles Grant spoke, beautiful
but too elaborately. I, alas, too strong afterwards; as
professing to act from higher principles, I ought to be
more affectionate, and gentle, and meek."

This entry is a striking instance of the careful watch
over his tongue which he so jealously maintained.
Other members in the course of the debate declared
that he had not spoken more severely than the occasion
fully justified. But he judged by another standard, and
in his next Sunday's meditations beautifully adds —
" Having so little time I must not spend any in writing.
Let me only record my own grief and shame ; and all
probably from private devotions having been contracted,
and so God let me stumble. How much too strongly did
I speak in the House of Commons, concerning Sir. J.
Hippisley ! Alas, how little exhibiting the temper of the
meek and lowly Jesus. Yet I humbly hope I have be-
wailed my sin with bitter contrition, and but for the
weakness of my eyes could shed many tears. Lord, I
flee to Thee for mercy, and do Thou guide and direct
me. Yesterday's decision to have a committee of in-
quiry concerning the state and treatment in law and fact
of the slaves and coloured people in our West India
islands, will bring on me an immense load if I undertake
it; greater I fear than I can bear. Yet, Lord, to Thee
I look, for * Thou delightest in mercy.' O soften, quicken,
warm, and sanctify me."

1814.

VIEWS OF EDUCATION.

129

CHAPTER VI.

Mad. De Stael — Social Character — Efforts to promote Abolition by Con-
tinental Powers — Emperor Alexander.

Lmmediately upon the prorogation of parliament he
made his escape to Sandgate, where his children gather-
ed around him, and he watched over them as usual with
the deepest interest. " I can scarcely," he wrote to a
friend, with an enclosure which had been sent for his
perusal, " conceive any earthly pleasure greater than that
of receiving such a letter from a beloved son, who shows
by his conduct that he writes the real sentiments and
feelings of his heart. I am conscious of my own ex-
tremely inadequate powers in all that concerns the work
of education, but 1 humbly trust that 1 can say with truth
that the spiritual interests of my children are my first
object; I mean that I w7ish to see them become real
Christians, rather than great scholars, or eminent in any
other way: and I earnestly pray to God for wisdom to
direct me, and that His grace may be given in large
measure to my children ; resolving at the same time,
since the Almighty acts by means, to consider tho-
roughly and after consideration to pursue the dictates of
my judgment. I own I am rather sanguine in my hopes
of the result, on the ground of the Scripture promises.
Join your prayers, my dear friend, to mine, and give me
also from time to time the benefits of your friendly
counsel." In the same tone he tells Mrs. Wilberforce —
" My best hopes for them rest on the declaration that
God hears and grants the prayers of his people through
the merits and intercession of the Saviour. Oh let us
press on to a higher proficiency in the Christian life as
the surest expedient for their good. We do not — even
those who hold the truths of Christianity correctly — we
do not think enough or speak enough of the Saviour. I
would gladly have Him continually before me. I find
the sense of His presence produces a humble, calm, con-

130

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

fiding dependence, making me ' walk softly.' To you I
open all my heart. I feel very lonely without all of you,
though nothing can be kinder than Stephen."

The conclusion of this autumn was spent in paying
several long-promised visits of duty and affection in the
south and west of England. Amongst those which had
been the longest promised was one to Barley Wood.
It was seven years since he had seen Hannah More,
except a single day that she had spent with him in the
summer ; and it was with no little pleasure that he again
found himself, his wife and daughters, beneath the roof
of the sisterhood. Death indeed had visited their dwell-
ing, and taken one from the united band ; but she who
was gone had died in Christian hope, and they who yet
survived lived on in Christian cheerfulness. It was still,
as it ever had been, the favoured seat of intellectual and
religious sunshine.

Parliament had been sitting nearly for a fortnight when
Mr. Wilberforce returned to towrn ; but no important
questions had required his presence. Little more was
done in the early part of the session than to follow with
votes of thanks the successful progress of our army.

But though little was at this time doing in the House,
his time was fully occupied. His children had gathered
round him for the Christmas holidays, and he was giv-
ing his usual attention to them. " Chatting with them all
the evening, and reading Miss Edgeworth's tales to
them. I extremely wish to attend to them, but I sadly
feel my incompetence to discharge the parental office."
These feelings were quickened at this time by his seeing
" in the newspapers that poor C. N. was killed. Alas !
alas ! I fear it will go hard with my good old friend his
father. I used, I fear too sanguinely, to hope that God
would hear the prayers of all who called on Him for
their children. Yet surely good old N. prayed, and so
did she, for poor Charles. Oh what a lesson to us, to
give all diligence with our children, as well as with our-
selves, and also to live closely with Him, that our inte-
rest with Him may be greater !" " S.'s interesting ac-

1814.

LASCARS.

131

count of poor C. N. — yet while eulogizing him, said he
had no benevolence or kindly feelings. S. thinks that he
was overdosed with religion, and that of an offensive
kind, while young. It is an awful instance, and well de-
serves the study of all parents; they should labour to
render religion as congenial as possible. It is worth in-
quiring what the failure was in poor N.'s case, if any ;
which it seems to be difficult not to suppose, considering
all his sons to be such as they are."

Many other matters soon claimed a large share of his
attention. Amongst the most troublesome was a long
inquiry into charges brought by a governor of Sierra
Leone against his friend, Zachary Macauiay. "Poor
Macaulay, after all his sufferings, labours, and disinte-
restedness for Africa, in reality put on his defence; and
having the mortification of seeing even well-disposed
people jealous, and taking up with idle and malignant
tales against him — what a lesson to us not to set our
heart on worldly favour, even that of good men ! Yet he
will come pure out of the fire."

His full London season was now begun, and he was
often "worried by many morning callers upon business."
" Breakfasters," too abounded ; while all his rooms were
occupied by various friends. "Dr. Buchanan came to
stay with us a little. Dear Bowdler also an inmate —
much pleasing talk." Yet however he was occupied, he
could not decline any pressing work of mercy. On the
3d of January, " we were," he says, " a very large party
at breakfast, Mr. Cardale and several others, first time
about the Lascars and Chinese brought over in our East
India ships; and shall we not provide for them, or for
their return?" In this work he called a few days later
for Mr. Stephen's aid —

(Private.)

" My dear Stephen,

I have but a few moments for writing, but if you will
be at liberty I will call on you between two and three
o'clock, that we may proceed together, if you like to
join me, to the East India House. At all events I wish

132

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

lo let you know something of a case which has been
some time before me. But consider yourself as having
promised not to divrulge it, without my permission. Mr.
Cardale some few days ago brought hither three or four
Lascars. It appears that these people, about 1500 in
number, are quartered in Ratcliffe Highway, the East
India Company paying ten shillings per head weekly for
their board and lodging. Some neighbours reported
that the poor creatures were very hardly treated, and
there had been much private inquiry, and long and nu-
merous discussions, before I was apprised of it.

Attention was kept more awake through some be-
nevolent and intelligent young men employing their
leisure in teaching them English, and in learning from
them Bengalee, Hindoostanee, and Chinese. I was ex-
pecting almost daily to go into the city to inquire, when
Mr. Cardale four or five days ago wrote me word, that
the superintendents of these poor creatures had learned
that some of them had been complaining of their treat-
ment, and that they had therefore resolved to send the
grumblers off by the first ship. Matters were in this
state when about three quarters of an hour ago, sur-
rounded by ten or twelve visiters of various sorts and
sizes, I received the enclosed letter, which you will con-
cur with me in thinking requires immediate attention. I
mean therefore to proceed to the India House imme-
diately after an interview with Lord Melville, which is
appointed for half-past one o'clock. Will you meet me
at the India House ?

I am ever yours, in extreme haste,

W. Wl LEER FORCE."

The singleness of spirit in which he undertook such
causes, may be seen in the alacrity with which he re-
signed the leading part to others. " Grant," he tells
Mr. Babington, "has been asking me to spend some
time with him to-morrow, to settle a plan for the protec-
tion, and I hope instruction, of the Lascars ; will you
help him to form it ? It is a business just suited to you,
and it would be aiding the accomplishment of a great

1814.

EFFORTS ON BEHALF OF LASCARS.

133

act of humanity as well as of friendship to Charles
Grant, jun. who is to bring the business before the House
of Commons. I believe you know some particulars
about these people, to which I may add their willingness
and capacity to receive instruction. Mrs. Babington
will laugh and say, I am at my old trade of bringing
you into the harness."

To put others forward was indeed his " old trade."
He had set on foot about this time another plan, to which
he found himself unable to attend as fully as he wished,
and went down therefore to the committee whom he had
set to work, to " advise their putting it into the hands of
some other M. P. who could attend to it, and carry it

through. It soon appeared that had already made

this very application to two M. P.'s. There could not,"
he continues with beautiful simplicity, " be better men
for a business of this kind; and therefore, though it was
not handsome in hip towards me who had first named
the matter to him, I appeared unconscious of it, and
truly declared I would help them in any way I could,
and that I was glad it was in such hands. It is a great
part of true wisdom and Christian conduct to set others
on good scents instead of following them oneself."

He was at this time busy in another charitable work,
in which he was thrust forward into an unwilling promi-
nence. The destitution on the continent, for which he
had last year done much to obtain relief, was greatly
aggravated by the ravages of the last campaign ; and he
was now most anxious to obtain substantial aid for the
German sufferers. On the 27th of January, he was 44 off
early to the City of London Tavern to the meeting for
relieving the distressed Germans. I moved the first
resolution. The Duke of Sussex prevented attending by
the asthma. But a poor meeting as to our respectable
people. Henry Thornton in the chair."

Not satisfied with this attempt, he was soon after-
wards " trying to effect a meeting in the West End of
the town." When he reached Freemason's Hall, upon
the 25th, he found " the Archbishop already there, and
the Duke of York soon after. ^Ul in confusion from one

vol. ii. 12

134

LIFE OF WI LB ER FORCE.

1814.

4 contrary' lord, who however I am told is a benevo-
lent, kind-intentioned man. The Duke of Sussex be-
haved nobly about ceding the chair and then coming.
He received me most kindly when I called on him about
it. Though he had been led to consider himself as
chairman, he gave it up most liberally, and said he
trusted he should show he was actuated by a better prin-
ciple than vanity. Sir James Mackintosh too has acted
nobly in coming and being ready to speak, but we could
not manage it either for him or for Charles Grant. I
was at length called forward to second Lord Bucking-
hamshire's motion of thanks to the Duke of York, and

most kindly received. burst into tears at seeing

me so applauded. Madame de Stael there.* Oh while
this should humble me in the dust from the conscious-
ness how little I deserve their praises, how assiduous
should it make me to use my influence wisely ! How
graciously God's good providence favours me ! I had
scarcely thought at all before, and had no plan of speech,
yet for a few sentences went on very well. My merci-
ful Saviour has never yet forsaken me. O God, what
thanks do I owe Thee !"

Besides these calls of charity and business, society
had many claims upon him, and often occupied his time,
though he watched more narrowly than ever over his
motives and conduct when he entered into it. This spring
affords some striking illustrations of his principles in this
particular. " When attending," on the 8th of February,
u a meeting of the African institution, Sir S. Romilly
told me aloud that Madame de Stael assured him she
wished more to be acquainted with me than with any
other person. The Duke of Gloucester made me by her
express desire fix a day for meeting her at dinner, chez
lui — Saturday se'nnight. This is mere vanity, and per-
haps curiosity ; and I felt my vanity a little rising too on
the occasion. Oh how full are we of this degrading

* She ha9 described this meeting in her Considerations sur la Revo-
lution Frangaiee, 44 L'homme le plus aime\ et le plus consider^ de toute
TAngleterre, M. Wilberforce, put a peine se faire entendre, lant les
applaud isscments couvraient sa voix."

1814.

MADAME DE 5TAEL.

135

passion ; and how diligently should we counteract it by
calling up the ideas of what degrades us, and of the
judgment we should form of others in whom we saw the
same temper of mind ! Thus we learn to abhor our-
selves, and to sit in judgment on ourselves as on others.
Lord, enable me thus to scrutinize and condemn myself
more and more. She told the Duke of Gloucester that
I did not think how really religious she was. I must
read her L'Allemagne, in order not to excite her preju-
dices. It will also enable me better to distinguish be-
tween her religion and the true, in conversing with
others."

"Feb. 19th. Dined Duke of Gloucester's to meet Ma-
dame de Stael, at her desire — Madame, her son and
daughter, Duke, two aides-de-camp, Vansittart, Lord
Erskine, poet Rogers, and others. Madame de Stael
quite like her book, though less hopeful — complimenting
me highly on Abolition — ' All Europe/ &c. But I must
not spend time in writing this. She asked me, and I
could not well refuse, to dine with heron Friday to meet
Lord Harrowby and Mackintosh, and poet Rogers on
Tuesday se'nnight. This would lead to an endless round
of dinners, but it neither suits my mind or body ; when I
dine late, the previous hours are worth little, and the rest
of the evening goes to society. I greatly doubt about
the doing any good by dinings-out. By going out now
and then in the evening, when I have dined early, and
am fresher and brisker, I should be better fitted to adorn
religion and seize occasions of doing good ; now I am
often sleepy, and not having duly cultivated the religious
principle by private devotions, it is weak, and I grow
worldly and useless. I may fairly assign weak health,
and dine early and so get more hours for business."

" I must secure more time for private devotion, for
self-examination, for meditation, for keeping the heart,
and even doing the duties of life, or the most pressing
claims will carry it, not the strongest. I have been
living far too publicly for me — 'Notus magis omnibus/
Oh may it not be * ignotus moritur sibi.' Lord, help me.
The shortening of private devotions starves the soul, it

136

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

grows lean and faint. This must not be. Oh how sad,
that after trying to lead a Christian life for twenty-eight
years, I should be at all staggered by worldly company,
Madame de Stael, &c. I will not however, please God,
enter and be drawn into that magic circle into which
they would tempt me."

"23d. Breakfast, Mr. Barnett about the poor. Letters.
Wrote to Madame de Stael and poet Rogers, to excuse
myself from dining with them. It does not seem the
line in which I can now glorify God. Dinner quiet, and
letters afterwards."

" 24th. To F.'s to dinner, where G. and others — I had
heard just before from Macaulay of his having at a party
wrongly condemned my book and religion, and that G.
who is just beginning to be earnest, was much disgusted.
Alas ! it is a pity, yet I wish I had as much love of the
Saviour as they have."

" March 4th. Much unpleasant doubting what I
ought to do about Madame de Stael. Lady S. tells me
that there has been much discussion whether I should go,
and wagers laid ; but Madame de Stael said she was
sure I should come, because I had said I would. What
care this shows we should take, because we shall be
more closely watched, more strictly judged! I must do
away the effect of this in her mind, that she may not
think I conceive I may speak conventional falsehoods,
the very doctrine and crime of the world, which so re-
sents what it calls lies and the imputation of them.

" 10th. I have consented to dine with Madame de
Stael ; I could not well do otherwise. Bowdler said
much to persuade me. Let me try to speak plainly
though tenderly to her. 18th. Dined with Madame de
Stael — her son and daughter, and two other foreigners,
Lord Harrowby, Lord and Lady Lansdown, Sir James
Mackintosh. Lord and Lady Granville Leveson were
to have dined, but Lady Spencer died that morning. She
asked me to name the party. A cheerful, pleasant din-
ner.— She talking of the final cause of creation — not
utility but beauty — did not like Paley — wrote about
Rousseau at fifteen, and thought differently -at fifty.

1814.

DANGERS OF SOCIETY.

137

Evening, assembly, but I came away at half-past eleven.
A brilliant assembly of rank and talent.'' " The whole
scene," was his next day's reflection, " was intoxicating
even to me. The fever arising from it is not yet gone
off', (half-past 8, A. M.) though opposed by the most se-
rious motives and considerations both last night and this
morning. How dangerous then must such scenes (literally
of dissipation, dissipating the spirits, the mind, and for a
time almost the judgment) be to young people in the
hey-day of youth, and life, and spirits ! How unfit for
those who are to watch unto prayer, to walk soberly, to
be sober-minded ! Something in my own case may be
fairly ascribed to natural high spirits, and I fear, alas !
much to vanity, and a good deal to my being unaccus-
tomed to such scenes; yet after allowing for these weak-
nesses and peculiarities, must not the sobriety of my age,
my principles, my guard, (prayer preceding my entering
into the enchanted ground,) be fairly considered as
abating the effect, so much as that I may be a fair ave-
rage sample of the effect of such scenes on young people
in general of agreeable manners, and at all popular ways
and characters ? I am sure I durst not often venture into
these scenes. Then the seasoning is so high that it would
render all quiet domestic pleasures insipid. Even poor
Paley used to say, (though I hope jokingly,) * Who ever
talks to his wife? This showed even in him the danger
of being fascinated by social gaiety, O Lord, enable me
to view last night's scene in its true colours, and shapes,
and essences. I have not time to trace out the draught.
May I remember that they and I are accountable, dying
creatures, soon to appear at the judgment-seat of Christ,
and be asked whether we avoided temptation, and en-
deavoured to preserve a frame of spirit suited to those
who had to work out their salvation with fear and trem-
bling."

"1 am now engaged to many parties, yet I must not
go on thus. It unfits my mind for private devotions, and
makes me too late, steals me from my children, and even
from my business, which from my weak health I must
do by contrivance. O Lord, guide me; let me not do

12*

138

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

any thing contrary to the liberal and social spirit of Thy
religion, but let me have wisdom to see what is really
required from me, and resolution to perform it. My own
soul should doubtless be my first object, and combined
with it, my children . . how much better might I serve
them if I cultivated a closer connexion with God ! . . .
my business, and doing good to others. I am clear it is
right for me to withdraw from the gay and irreligious,
though brilliant, society of Madame de Stael and others.
I am, I hope, thankful to God that I am not given up to
these pleasures. O let me labour that I may not be
merely gratifying an indolent spirit by staying away.
Let me cultivate a spiritual mind, that if any be really in
earnest I may then approximate and show them that I
can feel; and oh may God touch their hearts also. How
surely is every one who is in earnest useful to others !
Poor Lord G. ! Let me talk with him, and guard him
against the deception of being satisfied with the world's
religion. Indeed he knows too much for that. But O
may I above all pray and strive for a larger measure of
softening, warming, quickening grace. Amen."

This calm and self-denying judgment of himself is not
a little striking in one, whose past labours and long-settled
character would have exempted him in the eyes of the
most scrupulous from the necessity of such rules of con-
duct. Nor was it that any touch of age had damped
the exuberance of his younger spirits ; and that he with-
drew morosely from scenes in which he could not as of
old give and experience pleasure. " Mr. Wilberforce,"
was Madame de Stael's declaration to Sir James Mac-
kintosh, " is the best converser I have met with in this
country. I have always heard that he was the most
religious, but I now find that he is the wittiest man in
England." His social qualities are about this very time
thus described by his friend Mr. Harford. " The first
time I met Mr. Wilberforce was at the house of his friend,
Mr. Henry Thornton. I had heard him speak in the
morning, in a crowded meeting, at the anniversary of
a public charity, when elevated sentiments and touching
appeals, rendered doubly impressive by the fine tones of

1S14.

mr. harford's description.

139

his musical voice, had deeply affected the feelings of the
auditory. There was a dinner party at Mr. Thornton's,
and several of the guests were among the particular
friends of Mr. Wilberforce. Mr. Thornton before we
sat down to table expressed a hope that he would join us
in a few minutes. We had not been long seated when
he entered the room with a smiling, animated counte-
nance, and a lively vivacity of movement and manner ;
exchanging as he advanced kind salutations with his
friends, whose faces were lighted up with peculiar plea-
sure at his presence. From my earliest youth I had
been taught to reverence the name of Wilberforce, so
that my delight was great to find myself in his company.
His manner and address throughout the afternoon were
marked by kindness and vivacity, and his style of con-
versation was brilliant and easy.

" Those who never saw him till within eight or ten
years of his decease, when his figure had become a good
deal bent and his head depressed upon his chest by the
weight of years acting on an extremely delicate frame,
cannot easily form a just idea of him at the period to
which I now refer. Some tendency to these infirmities,
it is true, was already apparent, but the elasticity and
spring of his movements, the comparative erectness of
his figure, and the glow on his cheek, presented a strong
contrast to the decrepitude which gradually stole upon
him in his declining years. His frame was at all times
extremely spare, and seemed to indicate that the ethereal
inhabitant within w7as burdened with as little as possible
of corporeal encumbrances ; but from this attenuated
frame proceeded a voice of uncommon compass and
richness, whose varying and impressive tones, even in
common conversation, bespoke the powers of the orator.
His eyes, though small, and singularly set, beamed with
the expression of acute intelligence, and of comprehension
quick as lightning, blended with that of cordial kindness
and warmth of heart. A peculiar sweetness and play-
fulness marked his whole manner. There was not a
single handsome feature — there was scarcely one that
was not in itself plain ; but the mingled emanations of

140

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

imagination and intellect, of benevolence and vivacity,
diffused over his countenance a sort of sunny radiance,
which irresistibly acted as a powerful magnet on the
hearts of all who approached him. At this time, and till
within a few years of his death, he wore powder ; and
his dress and appearance were those of a complete gen-
tleman of the old school."

It was with no ordinary interest he watched the pro-
gress of the continental wars: looking upon Buonaparte
as the " modern scourge of God," he was sure that when
the purpose for which he had been raised up was accom-
plished, he would again be put down, and at length he
thought he saw in the capture of Paris by the allied army,
the token of his downfall.

In a letter written at this time, he says,

" How wonderful are the events of the last few days !
After hearing that Buonaparte had dashed into the rear
of the Allies it seemed doubtful what would happen ; when
suddenly we heard on Tuesday that they were marching
on to Paris. Then we hoped the best; but how little ex-
pected that to-day, Saturday, we should hear of Buona-
parte's accepting the Emperor of Russia's offer, re-
nouncing the throne and agreeing to retire to Elba !"
" Have you good authority for believing that Toussaint
perished in Elba? If so, and if Buonaparte himself se-
lected it, he is harder-hearted than Shakspeare would
have rendered his greatest villains."

To the congratulations of his friend William Hey
upon the continental triumph he replies a few days
later.

" Near London, April, 1814.

" My dear Sir,

If I had not 6 extremely occupied' to plead in my de-
fence, I should feel quite uncomfortable at having been,
I had almost said churlishly, irresponsive to your ani-
mated call. And I own I have been condemning myself
for not echoing back the songs of grateful acknowledg-
ment. Never surely was the hand of the Almighty more
strikingly manifested. Had not Buonaparte been abso-

1814. EFFORTS TO PROMOTE GENERAL ABOLITION. 141

lutely infatuated, he never would have broken off the
conferences at Chatillon. I like your verses much, and
can imagine my old friend joining in chorus and singing
with all his might. I have been thinking how to convey
them to the hands of the Regent, but have not yet devised
a way. For I have been for some time, till two days
ago, a close prisoner from an attack on the lungs, or
rather trachea ; for which a blister and silence were
prescribed to me by Dr. Baillie. I thank God I am
much recovered, indeed nearly well again. I am just
now extremely occupied, both mind and thoughts, with
considering about and taking measures for, effecting a
convention among the great powers for the Abolition of
the Slave Trade. It would be indeed a glorious termi-
nation of the hurricane. But do not talk publicly of
this."

" It would be too shocking," he says to Mr. Gisborne,
M to restore to Europe the blessings of peace with pro-
fessions of our reverence for the principles of justice and
humanity, and at the same moment to be creating, for
so it would really be doing wherever the Slave Trade is
extinct, this traffic in the persons of our fellow- creatures.
We are much occupied with the grand object of pre-
vailing on all the great European powers to agree to a
convention for the general Abolition of the Slave Trade.
Oh may God turn the hearts of these men ! What a
great and blessed close would it be of the twenty-two
years' drama !"

His own special part in this effort was to prepare a
letter to the Emperor Alexander. " I am about to cor;
respond with a real live emperor," he concludes a letter
to Mr. Gisborne, " not merely such a sort of Birming-
ham emperor as Buonaparte; so admire my conde-
scension, which can bestow all this penmanship upon
you." At this he set to work directly, though he found
it difficult to rescue from his other occupations the time
which it required. "An incessant succession of inferior
concerns," he complains, * prevents my doing this really
important business. I cannot jet please myself at all ;

142

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

and I have written to beg Bovvdler to try his hand at a
head and tail piece at least. Use your influence with
him. I cannot keep myself from interruptions." " Though
I have as little conception," replied Mr. Bowdler, "how
to address an emperor as if he were an inhabitant of the
moon, I half had intended to put what occurred to me
upon paper, in order that after seeing the failures of other
pens, you might be better satisfied with your own. De-
pend upon it, whatever styles you employ as contribu-
tory, if you consult the wise they will insist on your
ultimately adopting your own."

This in the end he did, though little able to secure the
leisure he desired. " I find myself," he says, " stupid
and slow, and not able to move at all to my liking in
composition. My mind must be filled and warmed, then
I can pour along pretty well. I am like a horse which
cannot get into a gallop till it has some space in which
to come to its speed ; the incessant interruption of little
things obstructs my progress. 1 have been sadly bothered
about the French translation, and forced to write so
many letters that I could not get to my work till very
late." Now however he kept close to it; " writing the
foul copy" of his letter as he walked " in his garden ;"
and even giving to it some of that time which he most
reluctantly conceded to any worldly care. " I stay at
home to-day, (Sunday, April 17th,) on account of my
cold, and I am about after a short prayer for the Divine
blessing, to set to work on my letter to the Emperor. I
do it as in God's sight. Surely this occupation is pleasing
to Him who says, Mercy is better than sacrifice. I can
truly say in the presence of the Searcher of hearts, that
I do not engage in it from inclination, for the contrary is
the truth, but because it is a business which presses
greatly in time, and which tends eminently to the glory
of God, and the present and eternal happiness of men."
Yet on the following Sunday he says, " I will not quit the
peculiar duties of the day for my Abolition labours.
Though last Sunday I set about them with a real desire
to please God, yet it did not answer; my mind felt a
weight on it, a constraint which impeded the free and

1814.

LETTER TO EMPEROR ALEXANDER.

143

unfettered movements of the imagination or intellect ;
and I am sure that this last week I might have saved for
that work four times as much time as I assigned to it on
Sunday. Therefore, though knowing that God prefers
mercy to sacrifice, yet let me in faith give up this day
to religious exercises, to strengthening the impression
of invisible and divine things by the worship of God,
meditation, and reading. 1 trust He will bless me during
the week, and enable me to make up what might seem
lost."

He concludes his letter to the Emperor as follows —
" To the Divine blessing I now consign these pages.
May that Almighty Being, whose I trust you are, and
whom you serve, who has raised you up to be the chief
agent in delivering the European continent from the
bonds in w7hich, by a mysterious Providence, it had been
so long held, render you the honoured instrument of
accomplishing in Africa also his purposes of mercy.
May you live, sire, to witness the blessed result of your
beneficence, in the prevalence throughout those be-
nighted regions of Christian light, and moral improve-
ment, and social comfort ; and to hear her sable children,
when, in the language of Scripture, 6 they spread forth
their hands unto God,' call down not temporal only but
everlasting blessings on the head of Alexander Emperor
of the Russias, as the greatest of their earthly bene-
factors."

To effect this glorious consummation was now the
great object of his life, and the Congress of Vienna
offered to his sanguine mind room to hope it might be
realized. In his letter to the Emperor, he entered into a
detailed statement of the history of the trade in so forci-
ble a manner, that the Emperor charged himself with
the care of the cause of Abolition in the Congress. He
had also indulged the hope that France might be in-
duced to enter heartily into the arrangement, and Mr.
Macaulay went to Paris to promote the cause. He was
desirous to retain the colonies which had fallen into the
hands of Great Britain, until France should be willing to
abolish the Slave Trade. He entered into correspon-

144

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

dence with many distinguished Frenchmen on the sub-
ject, and among others with Talleyrand, who replied in
a letter filled with shallow subterfuges and personal
flattery. His disappointment was great, when Lord
Castlereagh returned from Paris bringing with him a
treaty which restored to France her colonies, with only
a vague promise that the Slave Trade should cease in
five years. On the 6th of June he enters in his diary, " I
staved off yesterday," (Sunday,) " the thoughts of the
Abolition arrangements, but to-day they rushed on me,
and grieved me deeply." On that evening, when Lord
Castlereagh, on his return from Paris, entered the House
of Commons, he was received with loud and enthusiastic
cheers. " The only voice which remained mute amidst
the fervent burst of joy, was that of Mr. Wilberforce.
No heart beat more highly than his with patriotic emo-
tions, but this feeling was mastered by another which
forbad its utterance." The acclamations therefore were
no soooner hushed, amidst which Lord Castlereagh laid
on the table a copy of the treaty, than he " opened upon
him." " I can assure my noble friend," he exclaimed,
" that if I have not been able to concur in the salutations
with which he has been welcomed on his return, it is not
from any want of personal cordiality, but because seeing
him come up to the House bearing the French treaty,
and calling to mind the arrangements made in it respect-
ing the Slave Trade, I cannot but conceive that 1 behold
in his hand the death-warrant of a multitude of innocent
victims, men, women, and children, whom I had fondly
indulged the hope of having myself rescued from de-
struction. It is not, however, to give vent to the feel-
ings of an overloaded mind, that I have now risen, for in
truth my feelings are far too deeply seated for me to be
thus eased of them, but I rise chiefly to notice two par-
ticulars to which 1 entreat my noble friend's immediate
attention." One of them was the preventing a five years'
revival of the Dutch Slave Trade, the other the imposing
restrictions upon that of the French. " When I con-
sider," he continued, " the miseries that we are now about
to renew, is it possible to regard them without the deepest

1814. DISAPPOINTMENT RESPECTING AEOLITION. 145

emotions of sorrow ? Still as all this was known to my
noble friend, I will not suppose that he could lightly or
without what appeared to him the most imperious and
almost irresistible necessity set his hand to such a treaty.
For my own part indeed I frankly declare no considera-
tions could have induced me to consent to it." "My
noble friend must allow for my extreme regret, if when
at length, after a laborious contention of so many years,
I had seemed to myself in some degree in possession of
the great object of my life, — if then, when the cup is at
my lips, it is rudely dashed from them, for a term of
years at least, if not for ever."

Amidst these various disappointments, he was not a
little " thankful to hear that the Emperor Alexander
charged himself with the Abolition in a Congress. He
wishes to see me." On the evening of the 10th of June
he u received a note summoning" him for one o'clock
upon the morrow. " Sunday, 12th. Got up by half-past
six, that I might pray to God for a blessing on my inter-
view. Lock — from which to the Emperor. In his wait-
ing-room were several of his nobles — Prince Czartoriski,
Prince of Oldenburgh, and others. At length the Em-
peror who was absent at Messe (Greek Church) returned,
with the Princess of Russia, (Oldenburgh,) and I was
summoned up-stairs, and soon after into the inner room
to the Emperor. He took me by the hand, very cor-
dially, and assured me that he was much interested for
my object, and very glad to see me. On my stating my
fear that the French would not in fact abolish at the time
settled, he replied heartily, * We must make them ;' and
then correcting himself, 1 we must keep them to it.' I
asked leave, before I left him, to write to him, conceiving
that any thing I should say would be driven out of his
mind by the incessant bustle of his situation. He frankly
assented, and told me he should be glad to hear from
me and was obliged to me. He shook hands with me
cordially. When I was expressing my concern about
the treaty, he said, 1 What could be done, when your
own ambassador gave way?' "

More than once he was summoned by Alexander to con-

VOL. II. 13

146

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

versations, in which the Emperor spoke French, and he
replied in English. The Duchess of Oldenburgh, and the
King of Prussia, alike desired to see and talk with him ;
and from the latter he received a set of Dresden china,
" the only thing," he playfully declared, " I ever got by
spouting." But none amongst the band of monarchs and
nobles interested him more than Prince Czartoriski, a
Polish Prince, formerly Foreign Secretary to the Empe-
ror. " Czartoriski came in and talked to me for an hour
or two about his country, and especially our institutions,
with a view to their adoption. He seems eager for use-
ful information, and whatever could improve the people.
He acquiesced when I lamented the Emperor's being
only feted, and not let alone to see useful things, courts
of justice, &c."

Such reflections could not but force themselves upon
the mind of calm and rational observers of these brilliant
days. " After we had, Hezekiah-like, ostentatiously ex-
hibited our riches," says Mrs. H. More, " our gold and
our silver, after having gorged them with banquets,
which I hear they disliked, why w7ere they riot intro-
duced to something serious besides the Quakers' meet-
ing? I did not dislike to let them witness our own gran-
deur, and I like to express our respect and admiration
for them, but why keep back from them every thing that
was useful ? They had really little more good to carry
home than poor Omai had." He at least was free from
from this reproach. " Too late," he says, June 30th,
" for dinner, because writing about the Bible Society for
Czartoriski, and getting for him some Reports of the So-
ciety for Bettering the Condition of the Poor." Many
years afterwards, almost the last visit Mr. Wilberforce
received was from this interesting man, when having
resigned Russian greatness to fight the battles of his in-
jured country, he sought the shores of England as an
exile and a refugee.

The temper of his own mind indeed was wholly un-
disturbed by the agitation around him. " How delight-
ful," he says after an evening spent in social intercourse,
" to see the love, simple devotedness, and gratitude of the

1814. CONTINUED EFFORTS FOR ABOLITION.

147

three 's ! How it shames my lukewarmness ! Lord,

forgive and help me, and let the example spur me on to
greater diligence."

It is well wTorth while to trace up to its fountain head,
the quiet recollection of his principles amidst the hurry
of his public life. Another entry of his Diary will point
it out. When most engaged this summer, he says, 44 1
must try what I long ago heard was the rule of Elliot
the great upholsterer, who when he came from Bond
Street to his villa, always first retired into his closet. I
will do it, though but for a short time. It will, with God's
blessing, be useful both for self-examination for the past,
and seeking God for the future." 44 1 have been keeping
too late hours, and hence I have had but a hurried half
hour in a morning to myself. Surely the experience of
all good men confirms the proposition, that without a
due measure of private devotions the soul will grow lean.
It is remark-able that at such times my business and
worldly concerns have also gone on ill ; enforcing on me
old Sir M. Hale's remark, which might have been
deemed too strong. O Lord, help me. I will try to as-
sign at least an hour in the morning, and when circum-
stances will permit, the same in the evening, for Scrip-
ture reading, private devotion, and meditation. How
little can I now realize the circle of angels and unseen
spirits ! Yet I hope I can truly say I allow not my cor-
ruptions. O Lord, strengthen my faith, send the Spirit
of Thy Son into my heart, that I may call Thee Father,
and set my affections upon things above."

At the end of July he left London, to devote the quiet
of the summer to his great design. All his hopes hung
on the result of the approaching Congress. It was
therefore of the utmost moment to give to the public
mind on the continent the same impulse which it had re-
ceived in England. He had already tried through Car-
dinal Gonsalvi, to influence the Romish Conclave, and
he now opened a correspondence with a number of lite-
rati, Alexander Humboldt, Sismondi, Chateaubriand, and
Madame de Stael, in the hope that he might act through
them upon their countrymen. He was himself preparing

148

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

his chief effort, a printed letter to Talleyrand, which was
to contain the strength of the Abolition cause, and to be
dispersed as the manifesto of its supporters. " How
time flies away !" he writes. " For a third time we are
now all collected at Sandgate, enjoying wherever we
are the overflowing bounty of the Almighty. The quiet
of this place, so great a contrast to the bustle of my
London life, produces a general sleepiness and stupefac-
tion, which almost disqualify me for all active employ-
ment of my mental faculties. I must try to rouse and
lash myself into something like animation; but I can
truly declare that I wish the office of writing a piece for
general circulation devolved on a more able hand. I
will do my best however, after having executed two or
three lesser duties which require immediate attention. I
mean to write to the Emperor of Russia and the King of
Prussia, and a private letter to Talleyrand. I hope here-
with to transmit one to Chateaubriand. You know pro-
bably that Lord Castlereagh charged himself with com-
municating with the Pope. Have you seen the article
in the Edinburgh Review on the Revival of the Slave
Trade ? I do not think it quite fair, and any statements
which can justly be pronounced unfair, are always in the
end injurious as well as unjust."

The want of books, and a wish to be near Peltier, the
translator of his work, obliged him at length to return to
London. This was no inconsiderable sacrifice. He
loved to spend his summer holidays in the retirement of
the country surrounded by his children ; with whom he
had " begun walking, and examining them in walks in
the books which they are reading, and talking them over
together." While " in the evening," almost the greatest
of their treats, he was " reading to them Shakspeare."
Occasionally, too, he made excursions with them for the
day; and in " Caesar's camp and the cherry orchards"
all the burden of his business was thrown off, and he was
the most cheerful of the party. " We took our dinner
with us upon Saturday," is the description of such a day
this summer in the letter of a guest, " and were fourteen
in number. Mr. Wilberforce made us all very happy.

1814.

RETURNS TO LONDON.

149

He read, and talked, and carved, and reminded us of the
benevolence of God in making the avenues of innocent
pleasure so numerous, and forming us for so many enjoy-
ments which have nothing sinful in them." " There is
no way," is his own remark on this day, "in which
children's tempers are more indicated than in such ex-
cursions." With the same watchfulness for their advan-
tage he now tells Mr. Macaulay, that though 44 at first
disposed at once to cut his cables and slip off* for Lon-
don," he had postponed his journey 44 until Monday, be-
cause I am to take with me on his way to school,

and I like to make Sunday his last day at home. I think
it tends to associate religion and domestic tenderness ;
to identify them with each other, and thereby augment
both."

He continued his work at Battersea Rise, where he
was a guest in the house which he had inhabited so
many years before. He had left Sandgate, hoping only
to be kept a few days near London, but the claims of busi-
ness multiplied upon him. On the 2d of September he tells
Mrs. Wilberforce, 44 My anticipations are verified. I am
forced to stay three or four days longer, I trust not
more. The interests at stake are so prodigious that even
the probability of advancing them constitutes an object
of vast amount. What a comfort it is that my absence
from you and our dear children is not when I am en-
gaged in the work, however necessary for self-defence,
and therefore justifiable, of blood and tears — making
others miserable while endeavouring to secure our own
happiness ; but on the contrary, in the work of mercy
and love; a work which may truly be said to breathe
the same spirit as that of Him whose coming was an-
nounced as 4 peace on earth, and good-will towards men!'
Ay, and surely we need not leave out the most honour-
able part of the service, 4 Glory to God in the highest.'
For I am occupied, I trust, in preparing an entrance
into Africa for the gospel of Christ. I must say that I
account it one of the greatest of the many and great
mercies and favours of the Almighty, (oh how many
and how great!) that his providence connected me with

13*

150

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

this good cause. I might have been occupied as
honestly, but in ways, political ways for instance, in
which the right path was doubtful."

He touches here upon a secret spring which led to
many of his Abolition efforts. " I greatly fear," he tells
Mr. Stephen, " if Hayti grants to France a colonial mo-
nopoly in return for the recognition of its independence,
that all commerce with us will be excluded, and with it
our best hopes of introducing true religion into the island.
Now I frankly own to you to introduce religion appears to
me the greatest of all benefits. I blame myself for not
having earlier stated to you my feelings on this head. It
has arisen from want of reflection, for my principles
have always been the same. God grant we may not
hinder the gospel of Christ. O remember that the sal-
vation of one soul is of more worth than the mere tem-
poral happiness of thousands or even millions. In this
I well know you agree with me entirely."

CHAPTER VII.

Private Usefulness — Death of H. Thornton and J. Bowdler — Corn Law-
Riots — Battle of Waterloo — Intercourse with Prince Regent.

There was nothing more remarkable about him than
the cheerful spring of his natural affections, even under
the heaviest pressure of perplexing business. " There,"
he said when hurried once almost beyond bearing, calling
the attention of a friend to a sudden burst of voices,
" how can I be worried by such trifles, when I have such
constant remembrancers of God's goodness to me?" It
was his children playing over head with a noisy glee
which would have jarred upon the feelings of almost
any one besides himself. Thus amidst his present busi-
ness he rescued time enough to write to his second son.

1814.

ADULT SCHOOLS.

151

"Battersea Rise, Sept. 14, 1814.

" My very dear ,

I do not relish the idea that you are the only one of
my children who has not written to me during my ab-
sence, and that you should be the only one to whom I
should not write : I therefore take up my pen though but
for a very few moments, to assure you that I do not
suspect your silence to have arisen from the want of af-
fection for me, any more than that which I myself have
hitherto observed has proceeded from this source. There
is a certain demon called procrastination, who inhabits
a castle in the air at Sandgate, as well as at so many
other places, and I suspect that you have been carried
up some day, (at the tail of your kite perhaps,) and
lodged in that same habitation, which has fine large
rooms in it from which there are beautiful prospects in
all directions; and probably you will not quit a dwelling-
place that you like so well, till you hear that I am on my
way to Sandgate. You would meet the 1 to-morrow
man' there, (it just occurs to me,) and I hope you will
have prevailed upon him to tell you the remainder of
that pleasant story, a part of which Miss Edgeworth has
related, though I greatly fear he would still partake so
far of the spirit of the place as to leave a part untold till
— to-morrow. But I am trifling sadly, since I am this
morning unusually pressed for time. I will therefore
only guard my dear boy seriously against procrastina-
tion, one of the most dangerous assailants of usefulness,
and assure him that I am to-day, to-morrow, and always
while I exist,

His affectionate Father,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

It is not a little interesting to turn from public objects
which consumed so much of his time and attention to
the details of his private life. He soon returned to
Sandgate, living in the midst of his children, studying
the Scriptures daily with some of them, " walking and
reading with them all, and bringing them into the habits

152

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1814.

he desired by kind, not violent means." He was as busy-
too doing good to those around him, as if his sympa-
thies had never wandered from his own immediate
circle; entering eagerly into any individual tale of suf-
fering— as when he " heard" this year of a case, (" the
shocking account of Mrs. R.'s cruelty to her child,")
which he took up and carried through, at a great expense
of time and trouble, and in spite of repeated threatenings
of personal violence from the brutal parent — and la-
bouring too by schools and other institutions to relieve
the want and ignorance around him. 44 The adult school,"
wrote a friend staying at this time in his family to Mr.
Arthur Young, " is established here ; a room and teachers
provided, and all will be left in good train. Mr. Wilber-
force went himself, read them extracts from Pole's His-
tory of Adult Schools, and made them a little speech,
saying how much he respected their good sense for
coming. You would have been delighted with seeing
him seated by the old ladies, with the utmost patience,
kindness, and humility, fairly teaching them their letters,
and quite unconscious that it was at all more remarkable
in him than in any common person. This was beautiful
in him, and highly useful and encouraging in its effects
upon the institution."

It is no wonder that thus causing and enjoying the
present social happiness, he should have 44 felt melancholy
at the idea of breaking up and going to town." But the
session was about to open, and duty called him up to
London.

" We have seen much of Wilberforce," Mr. Henry
Thornton tells Hannah More, 44 and heard his letters
from many of the renowned of the earth, all seeming to
pay homage to him. Lord Castlereanrh tells him that he
has obeyed his commands, and put his book into the
hands of each of the Sovereigns. Talleyrand's last
letter has rather a clearer acknowledgment than before
of his sympathy with Wilberforce, as to the grand object.
The most happy part of the intelligence, is an official
assurance of an 4ordonnance' of some sort issued re-
cently by the French government, excluding French

1814.

CONTINENTAL ABOLITION.

153

slavetraders from all the northern parts of Africa ; and
the line is so drawn that Sierra Leone, and all the set-
tlements restored by the treaty with France, as well as
a very large district below Sierra Leone, are exempt
from their molestations. I almost anticipate more good
from these new efforts of our friends than even from the
Abolition voted here ; and the name of Wilberforce has
attained new celebrity, and his character and general
opinions a degree of weight, which perhaps no private
individual not invested with office ever possessed. My
delight has consisted much in observing his Christian
simplicity, and the general uniformity in his character
and conduct, amidst the multitude of compliments from
the great, made, on the part of some, with much feeling.
He is indeed in his usual bustle, but he reminds me
nevertheless of that saying which was applied to Fox,
that the greatest objects, or the most heavy load of
business, seemed never to put him into that petty tumult
which is the common mark of inferior men."

The hostile feelings of the French ministers were now
however abated. They even attempted to abridge the
exemption promised to northern Africa by making Cape
Three Points its southern limits, thus opening the Bight
of Benin to the Slave Trade.

The measures, however, which Louis XVIII. either
would not or could not carry, were now about to be ac-
complished by a stronger hand. From his rock of Elba,
Buonaparte had not been an unobservant witness of the
feelings of this country, which he now probably for the
first time believed to be sincere. Upon his sudden return
to power, he attempted to ingratiate himself with England
by proclaiming a total and immediate Abolition of the
Slave Trade. Thus was the bloody cup dashed from
the hands of France, and the scourge of Europe became
the pacificator of Africa. And when Louis was again
restored by British arms, he was not suffered to revive
the hateful traffic. " I have the gratification of ac-
quainting you," writes Lord Castlereagh, "that the long
desired object is accomplished, and that the present mes-
senger carries to Lord Liverpool the unqualified and

154

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1815.

total Abolition of the Slave Trade throughout the do-
minions of France. I must beg to refer you to his
Lordship for the terms in which this has been effected ;
but I feel great satisfaction in persuading myself that, as
they will leave you nothing to desire on the subject, so
you will trace in them the undeviating and earnest ex-
ertions of the Prince Regent's ministers to effectuate this
great object, which had been so impressively given them
in charge."

Mr. Wilberforce had been long accustomed to make
the opening of a new year a time for serious and de-
votional reflection. After morning service, on Sunday,
Jan. 1st, (1815,) " I was much affected," is his entry,
" O may it be permanently, by the reflections the seasons
suggest. Read in the evening a sermon on the fig-tree
a cumberer of the ground to my family." He was now
occupying Barham Court, and partaking of the holyday
employments of his children.

Mr. Thornton was at this time occupying his house at
Kensington Gore, to be nearer medical advice. His
health, which was at no time robust, had been much
weakened by a fit of illness in the autumn; but it was
hoped that he was rallying from it, and no apprehensions
were expressed of its ultimate result. On the 9th of Ja-
nuary Mr. Wilberforce was "so busy with" "his letters"
that "he could hardly find time" to leave the country;
" but it would be unkind not to go to town for Henry's
sake, if, as they think, I could be any comfort to him."
The next day therefore he went up " to Kensington
Gore, but did not see dear Henry till the next morning
for fear of flurrying him." He had come to town with
no idea that his friend wras in any danger, and was
" shocked" therefore " to hear" when he " saw Halford
early the next morning, that a sad change had taken
place within the last five or six days ; inflammation going
towards the heart, and the greatest danger. I ordered
myself to be refused to all put particular friends.
Dealtry and I up praying with Henry and Mrs. and Miss
Thornton."

" My mind," he tells a friend at the conclusion of a

1815.

DEATH OF HENRY THORNTON.

155

business letter, " is in reality engrossed all this time by
a different subject, and I scarcely need tell you that it is
the loss of one of my oldest, kindest, most intimate, and
most valuable friends. His death is indeed a loss, though
so much more so to poor Mrs. Henry Thornton than to
any of us, that all comparison is at an end. However
the old, well-worn consolation is not worn out, our loss
is his gain, and we should indeed be selfish if we could
even wish to call our friend back to inhabit once more
an emaciated, suffering body, from the far different scene
on which he has now entered. I knew my deceased
friend well, and I can truly say, after living in the same
house with him for several years, and on terms of the
closest intimacy and the most unreserved and uninter-
mitted society for eighteen or nineteen subsequently, that
a more upright character I never knew — taking the word
in the largest sense, as expressing the fulfilment of every
duty, and the cultivation of every Christian grace and
moral virtue on right principles. To me who was used
to consult with him on all public questions, and who
profited so often from the extraordinary superiority of his
understanding, the loss is almost irreparable. But it is
the will of the Almighty, and it becomes us to submit.
It is the ordination of infinite wisdom and goodness, and
it becomes us to say, Thy will be done. I will not apo-
logize for the serious strain of my letter, because I am
persuaded you would wish me to pour forth of the fulness
of my heart."

Another blow soon followed. There was not perhaps
any one amongst his younger friends whom he loved
and respected as he did John Bowdler. " I loved him so
warmly," he says when four busy years with all their
obliterating influences had passed by since his death,
" that it quite delights me to find him estimated at his
true value. If poor Kirke White had lived he might
have grown into something of the same kind. But
Bowdler had a dignity — he would have become capable
I assure you of thundering and lightening. And then he
was the tenderest, and the humblest, and the most self-
forgetting creature." Bowdler too had just been mourn-
ing with him. On the sorrowful day which followed

156

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1815.

Henry Thornton's death, Mrs. Thornton had " sent for
him. He came in the evening, and I had much talk with
him. I took him to town next morning." It was the
last time they met on earth. The very next day " about
one in the morning dear Bowdler burst a blood-vessel,
and until about seven, when his bed-maker came in, he
lay in his chambers, humanly speaking in the most de-
solate state. Yet he told C. afterwards that his mind
was then so filled with the Saviour that he thought of
nothing else." Such was the colour of his thoughts for
the ten following days, during which he meekly bore the
sudden breaking up of the strongest natural affections,
and the highest intellectual powers. Upon the 31st of
January, he was pronounced 44 better, the inflammation
of the lungs subdued, and its conquest thought a great
point." Yet on the following evening, when Mrs. Henry
Thornton's business had again carried Mr. Wilberforce
to town, " a note came to" him at seven, 44 telling me of
dear Bowdler's death at twrelve o'clock this morning.
Oh how little did I foresee, when we met lately at
Kensington Gore, that it w7ould be the last time of my
intercourse with him on earth ! O sit anima mea cum
Bowdlero. I went on to Grosvenor Square, and saw his
lifeless and ghastly frame."

To Hannah More a few days later he pours out his
heart.

"London, Feb. 11, 1815.

44 My dear Friend,

Scarcely had a week passed away after the death of
our dear friend Henry Thornton, before the excellent
and elevated Bowdler was called out of this world, only
less dear a friend as of more recent acquisition ; and
scarcely had we returned from his funeral, . . though
there also I speak figuratively, because I was unable to
attend from the continuance of the same indisposition
which kept me from joining in the same sad office to my
earlier friend, . . when the tidings arrive of the depar-
ture of Dr. Buchanan. How striking ! We are all in-
voluntarily looking round and asking with an inquiring
eye, Who next, Lord ? Oh may the warnings have their

1815. LETTER TO MRS. HANNAH MORE.

157

due effect in rendering us fit for the summons. But I at
this moment recollect some important and urgent claims
on my time (too little for them) before I must go out of
town, and I must therefore break off unwillingly, for my
stream of thought was in full flow, and it beats against
the barrier. Kindest remembrances. Farewell. I en-
close the half of a bank note ; the remainder shall fol-
low.

Yours ever most sincerely,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

These deep tones of manly affection are strikingly
contrasted with his lowly estimation of himself. On
Sunday, Feb. 12th, he was at Battersea Rise and re-
ceived the " Sacrament. Mrs. H. Thornton stayed for
the first time since her husband's death, and was much
affected. Indeed, so hard a creature as myself was so.
What letters did I see yesterday, one quite exquisite from
M. How wonderfully the power of true Christianity is
displayed in the tempers, feelings, and even reflections of
the several sufferers! Harford, one of them, having lost
a beloved father, indicated the same blessed sentiments
and feelings." To this friend he wrote two days later.

TO J. S. HARFORD, ESQ.

" Kensington Gore, Feb. 14, 1815.

" My dear Sir,

Even by those who think and feel concerning the events
of this chequered life as real Christians, such an incident
as the death of a parent, or even of a near and dear friend,
will be felt severely ; and indeed it ought to be so felt,
for here, as in so many other instances, it is the glorious
privilege of Christianity and the evidence of its superior
excellence, that it does not, like the systems of human
fabrication, strive to extinguish our natural feelings, from
a consciousness that it is only by lessening them that it
can deal with them, if I may so express myself, and
enable us to bear the misfortune as we ought, but it so
softens, and sweetens, and increases the sensibility of our

VOL. II. 14

158

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1815.

hearts, as to make us love our friends better and feel
more keenly for the whole of this life the loss of our for-
mer delightful intercourse with them, and yet at the
same time it so spiritualizes and elevates our minds as to
cheer us amidst all our sorrows ; and enabling us, on
these as on other occasions, to walk by faith and live by
the Spirit, it raises us to the level of our ascended friends,
till we hear almost their first song of exultation, and
would not even wish to interrupt it, while we rather in-
dulge the humble hope of one day joining in the chorus.

Yet the loss of so excellent a man as Bowdler, at what
seemed to us so premature a period, when we might
have hoped that for so many succeeding years the world
would be instructed by his wisdom and charmed by his
eloquence, and above all, edified and improved by his
example, must be deeply felt by the survivors. And
even in the case of Mr. Henry Thornton, I at least may
naturally feel this who was of the same age; much it
might be hoped still remained for him to do for the
benefit of his fellow-creatures and the glory of God.
And Buchanan too! but, I am silent. . .

The general question of the effects of Abolition about
this time engrossed his attention. The Abolition party
were upon the eve of taking an important step in their
great struggle. Their objects had been all along strictly
practical ; they contended for no abstract principles ;
they did not enforce the natural rights of man ; but they
saw a great system of iniquity and wrong, which called
aloud to Heaven for redress : The abolition of the Trade
in Slaves was the first remedy for the evil. It was
hoped that it would at the same time staunch the wounds
of Africa, save the present victims of the trade, and
insure the kind and Christian treatment of the actual
stock of slaves. Seven years had now passed, and
there was yet no visible improvement in this respect.
Efforts had been made to effect it by private and in-
offensive means, but in vain. Some of the more eager
partizans could scarcely be kept within these limits, but
Mr. Wilberforce would not listen to the more violent
counsels of his coadjutors in the great work of Abolition.
" You," he tells Mr. Stephen, " are full ten degrees above

1815.

CORN LAW RIOTS.

159

me." He was resolved in the first instance to strengthen
the ameliorating influence of the Act of Abolition, by pre-
venting the illicit introduction of fresh labourers. Thus
the Bill for a Register of Negroes, which he at this time
introduced in order to prevent illicit traffic in slaves, was
the first move in this new conflict ; and yet in this mildest
and most necessary step the principle of all his latter con-
duct was in fact involved. For it was in truth the appeal
of the slave population from the narrow-minded island le-
gislatures to the supreme council of the empire; from the
corrupted currents of Jamaica and Barbadoes to English
sympathy and moral feeling. It led therefore to every
after-effort for the mitigation of their sufferings; and
when all these had been tried in vain, it led step by step
to the great principle of entire emancipation. But he
and others around him saw not as yet to what they
should be led. They had never acted upon the claim of
abstract rights; and they reached emancipation at last
only because it was the necessary conclusion of a series
of practical improvements. " They looked," says Mr.
Stephen, " to an emancipation of which not the slaves,
but the masters themselves should be the willing authors."

The energy and decision of his character was exhibit-
ed strikingly during the period at which the public dis-
content ran so high on the question of Corn Laws, some
extracts from his Diary will illustrate at one view the
excitement of the times and his own feelings on the occa-
sion. " March 6th. House. Corn Bill in committee —
sad rioting at night. Both doors of the carriage, which
set down members, opened, and member pulled out.
None much injured. 8th. House — Report of Corn Bill,
and tendency to riot. 9th. House. Some mobbing, and
people savage and inveterate — alas ! alas ! Charles
Grant, and Mr. Arthur Young, the agriculturist, slept
with us for security on Tuesday." Mr. Young was now
entirely blind, and found his chief pleasure in such
society as that which he continually found in Mr. Wil-
berforce's house. " He says that in his present state of
Egyptian darkness, Kensington Gore is still like the land
of Goshen to him ; and that while he has the hope of

160

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1815.

hearing Mr. Wilberforee's voice, he will not say that he
finds * in change of place, no change of scene.' "

" At my prayers this morning," his Diary continues,
" March 10th, I reflected seriously if it was not my duty
to declare my opinions in favour of the Corn Bill, on the
principle of providing things honest in the sight of all
men, and adorning the doctrine of God my Saviour in all
things. I decided to do it. 1 see people wonder I do
not speak one way or the other. It will be said, he
professes to trust in God's protection, but he would not
venture any thing. Then I shall have religious questions
and moral questions, to which my speaking will con-
ciliate, and contra, my silence strongly indispose men.
Besides, it is only fair to the government, when I really
think them right, to say so, as an independent man not
liable to the imputation of party bias, corrupt agreement
with landed interest, &c; so I prepared this morning
and spoke, and though I lost my notes, and forgot much
I meant to say, I gave satisfaction." " I am sure that
in coming forward, I performed a very painful act of
duty, from a desire to please God, and to serve the inte-
rests of religion, and I humbly trust God will protect me
and my house and family. If not, His will be done."
" Sir Joseph Bankes's house sadly treated ; all his papers
burnt, and his house nearly being so."

A letter to his eldest son, now seventeen years old,
enters into more particulars.

" London, March 15, 1815.

" My very dear W.

I do not recollect with any precision when I last wrote
to you, but my feelings have been for some days inti-
mating to me that it is long, too long, since we either
of us heard from the other, and therefore I gladly avail
myself of a leisure half hour, which I enjoy in con-
sequence of Mr. Whitbread's, or rather of Lord Castle-
reagh's, business being put off, to despatch a letter to
Aspeden.

You did not mention, I think, the subject of your de-
clamation— I wish you had, and shall be glad if you will

1815.

CORN LAW RIOTS.

161

name it in your next letter to me or your mother. What
are the speculations of the Aspeden politicians on the
escape of Buonaparte? We old hands are, if we would
confess it, as much at a loss as you what predictions
to utter. In short, I for one, have learnt from expe-
rience to be very diffident in my speculations on future
events. It is however an unspeakable comfort in such
circumstances to be assured that able, and active, and
wicked as Buonaparte is, he is no less under the Divine
control than the weakest of human beings. He is exe-
cuting, unconsciously, the Divine will ; and it is probably
because the sufferings which he before brought upon the
nations of Europe did not produce the intended effect of
humiliation and reformation, that he is allowed once
more to stalk abroad and increase the sum of human
misery.

Were you to enter the dining-room at family prayer
time without having received some explanation of our
appearance, you would probably begin to think that we
were expecting a visit from the ex-emperor and his fol-
lowers at Kensington Gore, and had prepared a military
force to repel his assault. For you would see four sol-
diers and a sergeant, together with another stranger,
who as far as bodily strength would go, would play his
part as well as any of them. The fact is, that we had
some reason to apprehend mischief for our house, in con-
sequence of the part which I judged it my duty to take
on the Corn Bill; and as your mother, &c. was advised
to evacuate the place, I preferred the expedient which
had been adopted by Mr. Bankes, and several others of
my friends, that of having four or five soldiers in my
house — the very knowledge of their being there, render-
ing an attack improbable. But it was a curious instance
of the rapid circulation of intelligence, that at Covent
Garden market early on Saturday morning, John Shar-
man, who sells garden-stuff, being there to purchase for
the supply of his shop was hooted after, with * So your
old master has spoken for the Corn Bill,' (I had spoken
Only the night before,) 1 but his house shall pay for it.'
All however is hitherto quiet, and I trust will continue so.
14*

162

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE,

1815.

But I was aware of the danger when (to you I may say,
it was at my prayers) I resolved to speak for the Bill ; but I
judged it my duty to show that I was in favour of the mea-
sure ; (though thinking 76s. a preferable importation price
to 805.) I thought that if I remained silent, many might
say Mr. Wilberforce professes to trust in the protection
of God, but you see when there is danger to be appre-
hended from speaking out, he takes care to protect him-
self by being silent. Again, I sometimes need parlia-
mentary support for measures of a class not so popular
as some others, as missionary questions, or any others of
a religious kind. Now by coming forward and speaking
my mind on the present occasion, 1 knew I should render
people better disposed to support me in any of these
cases, while on the other hand my remaining silent and
snug as it might have been termed, would have produced
a contrary disposition. I acted in short on the principle
of 6 providing things honest in the sight of all men, and
of adorning the doctrine of God our Saviour.' But ob-
serve, I was clear in my judgment in favour of the Bill.

I did not intend to give you this long history. And as
I have expended all my own time, and have trespassed
on yours, I must hasten to a conclusion, not, however,

without a few words to assure my dear how often

I think of him, how often pray for him. O my dearest
boy, let me earnestly conjure you not to be seduced into
neglecting, curtailing, or hurrying over your morning
prayers. Of all things guard against neglecting God in
the closet. There is nothing more fatal to the life and
power of religion ; nothing which makes God more cer-
tainly withdraw His grace. Farewell, my beloved

, my first-born : and O my dearest boy, bear in mind

what a source either of joy or sorrow you will be to your
affectionate mother, and

Your affectionate Father and Friend,

W. Wilberforce.

P. S. Kind remembrances to any young friends that I
know."

His Journal continues on the 14th of March ; " All

1815.

ANNIVERSARY OF BIBLE SOCIETY.

163

quite quiet here, but sad accounts from France ; Buona-
parte having got to Lyons, and Horner anticipating the
worst. The soldiers (Scotch) behave extremely well ;
they come into prayers, and pleased to do so."

In the midst of much daily business, encountered with
the utmost diligence, comes in the result of a Sunday's
self-examination. "April 10th. I humbly hope that I en-
joyed yesterday more of a Christian feeling of faith,
and hope, and love, than of late. But I have been to
blame in point of hours. Lord, forgive my past unpro-
fitableness, and enable me to mend in future. 21st.
Being unwell, I kept the house, but busy on letters, and
chiefly African Institution Report; and occupied evening.
Committee on Lascars' business called just when dinner
going on table. I too faint, and, alas, impatient, forget-
ting Christ's talking with the woman of Samaria, and
neglecting the solicitations of hunger, and the distress of
faintness."

" May 3d. Anniversary of Bible Society. It went off
well. Robert Grant spoke beautifully. I was well re-
ceived, but very moderate in real performance. As I
came out, a truly pleasing Quaker accosted me, and
with the true friends' frankness and kindness, without
any thing of forwardness and vulgarity, asked me con-
cerning peace or war 6 having been much exercised
about conferring with me' on that topic, wishing me 'to
become a fool that I might be w7ise,' &c. I walked with
him some time, and was affected to tears. 10th. Early
to see Lords Castlereagh and Liverpool about Abolition
and St. Domingo. Castlereagh clear that the Bourbon
government will never revive the Trade. I hear every-
where that the Duke of Wellington is in high spirits. I
am distressed and puzzled about politics; but surely
without being clear it would not be right to oppose the
government. If Buonaparte could be unhorsed, it would,
humanly speaking, be a blessing to the European world ;
indeed to all nations. And government ought to know
both his force and their own. Yet 1 greatly dread their
being deceived, remembering how Pitt was. 29th.
Wordsworth the poet breakfasted with us, and walked

164

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1815.

garden — and it being the first time, stayed long — much
pleased with him."

"June 1st. A report to-day from Brussels that it is
still said there will be no fighting; Buonaparte will re-
tire— surely there is no ground for this idea. 7th. House.
Notice about Register Bill. 8th. Duke of Gloucester's
on Registry Bill — Lords Grenville and Lansdown,
Romilly, Calthorpe, Horner, William Smith, Stephen,
Babington, and Macaulay. I against bringing on the
measure this year. But Grenville strongly for it, and all
the rest gave way. 9th. First quiet thought of the plan
of my speech for Tuesday. Then African Institution,
Captured Negroes' committee. Then House. Dined Sir
G. Beaumont's to meet Wordsworth, who very manly,
sensible, and full of knowledge, but independent almost
to rudeness. 12th. Off early to Stephen's, Chelsea, to
prepare for motion ; any quiet time here being next to
impossible. 13th. Busy preparing all morning ; but not
having settled plan of speech before, much less finishings,
I felt no confidence. Got through pretty well, speaking
an hour and fifty minutes."

Sunday, the 18th, was spent at the parsonage of Tap-
low, where his family had been staying for a week. It
is described in his Diary as " a quiet day." Above
measure did he enjoy its quietness. He seemed to shake
off with delight the dust and bustle of the crowded city;
and as he walked up the rising street of the village on
his way to the old church of Taplow, he called on all
around to rejoice with him in the visible goodness of his
God; and "perhaps," he said to his children, "at this
very moment when we are walking thus in peace to-
gether to the house of God, our brave fellows may be
fighting hard in Belgium. O how grateful should we be
for all God's goodness to us !" the next day he "returned
to London for Lord Roseberry's Divorce Bill, religionis
causa ;" and almost the first news which .met him showed
that his grateful reflections on the Sunday had been ut-
tered whilst the battle of Waterloo was being fought.
"22d. Dr. Wellesley came and told us of the Duke of
Wellington's splendid victory of the 18th." "A dreadful

1815.

NEWS OF BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

165

battle," he writes word to Taplow. u British victorious?
but great loss. Duke of Brunswick and Lord Errol's el-
dest son killed. We are said to have lost 25,000, the
French 50,000. Oh my heart sickens at the scene ! Yet
praise God for this wonderful victory."

On Saturday, the 24th, he again plunged into the
country, but hastened back upon the Monday, for " the
Duke of Wellington's reward ; I preferring infinitely a
palace to be built to buying one ready made. 28th.
Breakfasters again — Sanders, a black man — Spanish,
Blanco White; yesterday Prince Blucher's aide-de-camp
who had brought the despatches — desired by Blucher
several times over to let me know all that passed."
"Did Marshal Blucher," he was asked at his audience
by the Regent, "give you any other charge?' "Yes,
sir ; he charged me to acquaint Mr. Wilberforce with all
that had passed." "Go to him then yourself by all
means," was the Prince's answer, "you will be delighted
with him." The veteran soldier's lively recollection of
the efforts made in the preceding year to succour his
afflicted countrymen is highly to his honour. " I have
fought," he wrote to the managing committee, "two
pitched battles, five engagements, masked three for-
tresses, taken two ; but 1 have lost 22,000 men. Will
the people of England be satisfied with me now? Desire
Mr. Wilberforce to bestir himself." Though he had
lately lamented his forgetfulness, and begged a friend
"to act always as his flapper," he needed in truth no
such assistance. He took at this time the leading part
in another meeting for the Germans, and in the midst of
his busiest preparations for the introduction of his Regis-
try Bill he " came back and took the chair at a private
meeting of the neighbours, for a fund, raising for the
widows and children of the killed and wounded of the
1st Life Guards always quartered at Knightsbridge — a
small meeting, but cordial."

A grateful remembrance of the gallant services of our
soldiers and our sailors was deeply wrought into his
mind, and appeared often in his conversation; as when
he said to a friend, " I never see a soldier or a sailor

166

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1815.

without a mingled feeling of gratitude and compassion.
I think of the privations they suffer, and of the dangers,
moral as well as physical, to which they are exposed in
our defence, whilst we are comfortably at home by our
firesides, enjoying freely our domestic blessings and our
Christian advantages." Or when at another time the
conversation turned upon the beauties of our English
villas. "I must speak," he said, "of the comfort and
security of English cottages. It is delightful to think
how many there are in this country who though having
no title to personal security from the extent or import-
ance of their possessions, are so completely guarded in
their little nooks and tenements by the power of the law,
that they can enjoy undisturbed every comfort of life as
securely as the first peer in the land. I delight to see, as
one sometimes does, an old worn-out sailor — poor .fellow!
seated in his queer boat-like summer-house, smoking his
pipe, and enjoying himself in a state of the most happy
independence."

The session was now drawing to a close. On the 5th
of July the Registry Bill was introduced by Mr. Wilber-
force, and read a first time. It had for some time been
determined to carry it no further till another session. On
the 6th, and more fully on the 7th, he was " shocked to
hear of Whitbread's death — having destroyed himself. It
must have been insanity, as the jury immediately found it.
Oh how little are we duly thankful for being kept from
such catastrophes ! Doubtless the devil's instigation."
" The newspapers," he writes on the same day to
Zachary Macaulay, " will state to you the dreadful end
of poor Whitbread. I need not say how much the
event has shocked me. There can be no doubt of in-
sanity having been the cause, and from what is said the
impulse must have been sudden. Are not such acts most
probably to be referred to the evil spirit's operation V9
He found some slight alleviation of these painful feelings,
in bearing witness on the 11th, when a new writ for
Bedford town was moved for, " in a few words which I
found pleased his friends," to the thoroughly English cha-
racter of this rugged but manly statesman. What a beau-
tiful evidence of the " charity which filled his heart — the

1815.

DEATH OF WHITBREAD.

167

same Whitbread who a few weeks previously had " re-
proached him ill-naturedly'' in the House with being un-
grateful.

After a tour through some of the southern and west-
ern counties for the gratification of his eldest son, he
settled with his family at Brighton, not only for the bene-
fit of his own health, but of that of Mrs. Henry Thornton,
who died during his sojourn there. His Diary mentions
his 44 reading and praying" with her, and ultimately her
death in a state of 44 sober triumph." During his sepa-
ration from his family, which he left at Brighton, while
he attended the body of his friend to London, he writes
to them as follows. " I will use my pen no more than
to express what however I express much more at large
on my knees, my earnest wishes that God's best blessings
may be ever strewed abundantly upon you all. Oh !
how blessed will be that day, when after all our conflicts
and anxieties we shall be made partakers of that rest
which remaineth for the people of God ! Oh let us all
strive lest a promise being left us of entering into His
rest, any of us should seem to come short of it. But if
we give diligence to make our calling and election sure,
we never shall, we never can fail, for the promises of the
God of truth are the pledges of our security. But let
us all remember that if we would be admitted hereafter
into heaven we must be made meet for it here. That
striking passage in the 8th of Romans quite haunts me—
4 If any man have not the spirit of Christ he is none of
His.' Oh let this thought quicken our endeavours and
our prayers."

On the 14th of November he returned to Brighton, and
to business, for he complains, 44 1 cannot even read during
the day all the letters which the morning's post has heaped
upon me: twice within the last few days 1 have had five
or six packets beyond my number."

In the midst of these over-occupations, he perceived
with no great pleasure a new feature of resemblance
added to 44 Piccadilly by the sea-side," in the presence
of the Prince Regent, and the consequent claims of the
court and society upon his straitened time. 44 1 at the

168

LIFE OF WI LBJDRFORCE.

1815.

Pavilion once. The ministers have been down with the
Prince for two or three days each. Lord Sidmouth and
Bathurst called on me yesterday. Lord Castlereagh be-
fore." " The Prince and Duke of Clarence too very
civil. Prince showed he had read Cobbett. Spoke
strongly of the blasphemy of his late papers, and most
justly. 1 was asked again last night and to-night; but
declined, not being well." This excuse however would
not long serve, and three days afterwards he was again
" at the Pavilion — the Prince came up to me and re-
minded me of my singing at the Duchess of Devonshire's
ball in 1782, of the particular song, and of our then first
knowing each other." " We are both I trust much
altered since, sir," was his answer. "Yes, the time
which has gone by must have made a great alteration
in us." « Something better than that too, I trust, sir."
" He then asked me to dine with him the next day,
assuring me that I should hear nothing in his house to
give me pain, . . alluding to a rash expression of one of
his train, when I declined the other day — ' Mr. Wilber-
force will not dine with you, sir,' . . that even if there
should be at another time, there should not be when I
was there. At dinner I sat between Lord Ellenborough
and Sir James Graham. The Prince desired 1 might be
brought forward."

"At night in coming away I opened to Bloomfield,
very civilly as I am sure 1 ought, saying I felt the Prince's
kindness, but told him that it was inconvenient to me to
come to the Pavilion often — children causa. He at once
said, I understand you. When I next saw the Prince,
he gave me a kind and general invitation. I heard after-
wards that Lord Ellenborough was asked to Pavilion
expressly to meet me. I was glad to hear it, as indi-
cating that I was deemed particular as to my company."
Several times in the ensuing week he was again a guest
at the Pavilion, and met always with the same treatment.
" The Prince is quite the English gentleman at the head
of his own table." 84 1 was consulted by the queen's
desire, whether proper to keep the queen's birth-day,
which fell on the thanksgiving-day. I replied that not

1815.

INTERCOURSE WITH PRINCE REGENT.

169

wrong, but rather doubtful. I went myself, being forced
to obey the sergeant and summons, otherwise should
have deemed it for me ineligible, and therefore wrong."

" No, my dear Stephen," he wrote in reply to the
playful taunt, "you will live to be a peer at last," " I am
not afraid of declaring that I shall go out of the world
plain William Wilberforce. In one view indeed I sel-
dom have had less reason to be dissatisfied with that
less dignified style : I mean in the degree of civility or
even respect to which even plain W. W. may be deemed
entitled. For really had I been covered with titles and
ribbons, I could not have been treated with more real,
unaffected, unapparently condescending, and therefore
more unostentatious civility. But, alas ! still better rea-
sons suggest the same dispositions. I become more and
more impressed with the truth of good old Baxter's de-
claration, that * the great and the rich of this world are
much to be pitied ;' and 1 am continually thankful for
not having been led to obtain a station which would have
placed my children in circumstances of greatly increased
danger."

On the first Sunday after his return to London, he
says, " I am fresh from Brighton, a place much to be
avoided in the winter except for some special purposes
— wishing to see the Prince, or some other persons,
whom one would meet only there. It must be a bad
place for the generality of young women ; infusing a
pleasure-loving, dissipated spirit. How different this
from crucifying the flesh with the affections and lusts,
and making no preparation for the flesh to fulfil the lusts
thereof! How ill-suited to the batismal engagement to
resist the pomps and vanities of this wicked world ! I
find it steals on myself though so advanced in years."

With him and his meanwhile, the year had closed with
thoughts of soberness and prayer. " What a change has
a single year and less made in the circle of my acquaint-
ance ! Mr. Henry Thornton and his widow, and their
excellent young friend and mine, Mr. Bowdler, who was
carried off just when he was about to be married to the
daughter of another friend. Mrs. Henry Thornton dying

VOL. II. 15

170

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1816.

at this place, it was my privilege to be much with her
in her latter days, and a more peaceful, humble, grateful,
hopeful death I cannot conceive. 4 1 trust,' she said a
few days before her decease, * God is gently leading me
to that blessed world which He has prepared for those
that love Him.' I thank God we are well. We over-
flow with blessings."

M Sunday, Dec. 31st. Church morning. After church,
we and our six children together — I addressed them all
collected, and afterwards solemn prayer. How little
likely on the 30th May, 1797, when I married, that we
and all our six children (we never had another) should
all be living and well ! Praise the Lord, O my soul."

CHAPTER VIII.

Abuse on account of Efforts for Negro Emancipation — Death of his Sis-
ter—Letters to Children — Political Disturbances — Interest in Hayti.

The year 1816 opened with a storm of opposition to
the cause of Abolition well fitted to try the firmness and
ascertain the reality of his principles. " The stream
runs most strongly against us. Marryat's violent and
rude publication, Matthison's more fair, and Hibbert's
well-timed one, all come out to meet us at the first open-
ing of parliament. But how vast is the influence of
government ; it is of that only we are afraid ! Our
cause is good, and let us not fear; assuredly God will
ultimately vindicate the side of justice and mercy. Mar-
ryat's new pamphlet is extremely bitter against my reli-
gious profession, thinking that nail will drive. Poor fel-
low ! I hope I can bear him no ill will, but allow for,
and pity him."

It was comparatively easy to throw aside one or two
such attacks, but it became a real trial of his principles

1816.

FEELINGS UNDER ABUSE,

171

when they were daily repeated throughout years of
patient perseverance in efforts for the good of others;
when scandalous insinuations were multiplied, and every
day produced a new set of slanders of such an aggra-
vated kind, that " if they had been true," he told the
House of Commons, "nothing but a special Providence
could have prevented my being hanged full thirty years
ago." Yet he stood the trial; never in his most un-
guarded hours did he manifest any bitterness of feeling;
never in public was he led into angry recrimination.
Often did he provoke some of his more impetuous col-
leagues by taking the part of the West Indian Planter —
suggesting excuses for his conduct — alleging that there
was no class of persons whom it was so much the in-
terest of the actual managers to keep in darkness as to
the abuses of the system — and so extenuating their moral
guilt that he drew upon himself a portion of the storm
which lowered over his West Indian slanderers. His
severest public answer was an apt quotation of the
words of Gibbon to an abusive assailant — " Everv ani-
mal employs the note, or cry, or howl, which is peculiar
to its species; every man expresses himself in the dialect
most congenial to his temper and inclination, the most
familiar to the company in which he has lived, and to
the authors with whom he is conversant."

Throughout this session he had taken far less part
than usual in its public business. A complaint on his
chest hung upon him obstinately, and made him "fear
that I shall do little more good. Alas, that I have not
laboured more to make the best use of mv faculties."
" It is a stroke which I own I feel ; not I hope with a
rebellious but with a humbled will ; yet I trust it may
still please God to enable me to use my organs (and oh
that it might be better in all ways) in His service, and
for the benefit of my fellow-creatures." He was obliged
therefore for the most part to confine his exertions^ in
the House to his "own proper business," and to questions
of a moral cast. As " a chamber counsel" he was still
labouring diligently. Every year multiplied the private

172

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1816.

claimants on his time, and this year they abounded
from the tale of ordinary distress, and the throng of
44 breakfasters," to the 44 Duke of Kent who more than
once called" on him 44 for two hours about his affairs,
and why going abroad — hardly used." On some few
great occasions he came forward, and always with
effect; and at the end of the session he took an active
part in the exertions which were made to provide relief
for the pressing distresses of the times.

Lowestoft on the Suffolk coast was the scene of his
summer retirement with his family. He had spent but
a few weeks there and in its neighbourhood, when he
was called suddenly away by the illness of a friend.
44 In how different a congregation," he writes to his
family on the first Sunday he now spent at Bath, 44 have
I been from that of Pakefield ! It reminded me of the
difference between the twelve poor fishermen, (I did not
till now recollect that yours are literally such,) who con-
stituted the first assemblages of Christians, and the well-
dressed and well-mannered meetings of the high and
the literary, who used to congregate for their various
purposes of devotion or instruction. Though I make it
an invariable rule not to write letters on a Sunday, ex-
cept in cases of necessity and charity, yet on the principle
of charity I may send you a few friendly lines. I need
not assure you that on this day you are all much in my
thoughts. I hope you all feel grateful for being brought
at once into so friendly an intimacy with so excellent a
family as that at Earlham.* For my part I am still full
of Earlham, or rather of its inhabitants. One of our
great astronomers has stated it as probable that there
may be stars whose light has been travelling to us from
the creation, and has not yet reached our little planet;
and thus some have accounted for new stars first ob-
served by more recent astronomers. In this Earlham
family a new constellation has broke upon us, for which
you must invent a name as you are fond of star-gazing;

* Joseph John Gurney's.

1816.

mrs. Stephen's death.

173

and if it indicate a little monstrosity, (as they are apt to
give the collections of stars the names of strange crea-
tures, dragons, and bears, &c.) the various parts of which
the Earlham assemblage* is made up, may justify some
name indicative of queer combinations ; only let it include
also all that is to be esteemed, and loved, and respected
too, and coveted."

Before he had spent many days at Bath, he received
a hasty summons to attend upon his sister, who had been
suddenly attacked by dangerous sickness. It was a great
shock to him. His other sisters had been so early taken
from them, that there had been none to share or to divide
the affection for each other, which had grown in them
writh their growth and years. Her affectionate admira-
tion of her brother had been rarely equalled, and affec-
tion was never wasted upon him. He had parted with
her a few weeks before at Cambridge, and rejoiced " to
see her better than she had been for a long time past."
He was therefore unprepared for such a blow, and set
off immediately with a heavy heart for Sunning Hill.
" On arriving I heard that my sister had died yesterday
at four o'clock. Poor Stephen much affected ! Liable
to strong paroxysms, at other times calm and pretty
cheerful. I prayed by my dear sister's body, and with
the face uncovered. Its fixedness very awful. I sat all
the evening engaging Stephen while the coffin was ad-
justing below. How affecting all these things; how
little does the immortal spirit regard it ! Looking at
night, till near two o'clock this morning, over my dear
sister's letters — many to and from myself, when she and
I first in earnest in religion."

" Our separation from each other just at this time," he
writes to Lowestoft, " if it produces some pain, yet re-
minds us of the call we have for gratitude to the Father of
mercies, who has so long spared us to each other. How
can I but feel this, when our dear friend's solitary situa-

• Amongst the " large party" at the dinner table at Earlham he
mentions the Bishop of Norwich, Col. B. and Lady Emily, Mr. Buxton,
Mr. Cunningham, Mr. Hudson Gurney, &,c.

15*

174

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1816.

tion is so forcibly impressed on me ! I indeed have lost
a most affectionate sister, one, of whom I can truly say,
that I believe there never was on earth a more tenderly
attached, generous, and faithful friend to a brother, who,
though I hope not insensible to her value, saw but little
of her to maintain her affection, of whom, alas, I could
say much that might reasonably have abated the force and
cooled the warmth of her attachment.

" How affecting it is to leave the person we have
known all our lives, on whom we should have been
afraid to let the wind blow too roughly, to leave her in
the cold ground alone ! This quite strikes my imagina-
tion always on such occasions. But there is another
thing which has impressed itself in the present instance
much more powerfully than in any other I ever remem-
ber, I mean in contemplating the face of our dead friend
to observe the fixed immovableness of the features. Per-
haps it struck me more in my sister's case because her
countenance owed more of the effect it produced to the
play of features than to their formation. I could not
get rid of the effect produced on me by this stiflf and cold
fixedness for a long time. But oh it is the spirit, the in-
habitant of the earthly tenement, not the tenement itself,
which was the real object of our affection. How un-
speakably valuable are the Christian doctrines and hopes
in such circumstances as ours ! We should not care
much, if we believed the object of our tender regard had
gone a fewT days before us a journey we ourselves should
travel ; especially if we knew that the journey's end was
to be a lasting abode of perfect happiness. Now blessed
be God, this is after all not an illustration. It is the
reality. The only drawback with me here is the con-
sciousness that I have much to do for God, and the self-
reproach for not having done it. Yet here also I can
cast myself on the sure mercies of my God and Saviour;
and while I desire to do on each day the day's proper
work, and to be more active and useful than I ever yet
have been, still I can humbly hope that if I should be
taken hence with my work unfulfilled, He who said,
* Thou didst well that it was in thine heart/ will gracious-

1816.

FEELINGS ON DEATH OF HIS SISTER.

175

ly forgive my sins; and that my all-merciful Saviour
will take me 'to himself out of the same superabundant
goodness, which I have ever experienced. For how
true it is, (I am often driven to this,) 6 Thy thoughts are
not as our thoughts, nor Thy ways as our ways; for
as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are Thy
ways higher than our ways, and Thy thoughts than our
thoughts !'

" I think I told you that my dear sister, when asked
whether God comforted her and gave her peace, said,
* O yes, so much so, as quite to put me to shame when I
consider what a sinner I am.' She then exclaimed —
so like herself, ' I hope this is not cant ;' adding however,
4 1 am sure it is not all so.' 99

After a few days he returned to Bath, and stayed in
its neighbourhood until the 13th of November, when he
set out by the London coach to join his family at Ken-
sington Gore. " Arrived safely D. G. at half-past ten at
Kensington Gore, after travelling above 700 miles with-
out a single accident. The boys coming out immediately
to me, and receiving me with humiliating kindness — God
bless them !"

There had been no abatement of the storm which had
been raised against the Registration Bill. It was taken
up as a colonial question. A voluntary tax upon every
hogshead of sugar which passed the Custom House, was
raised by the West Indians to oppose the measure; and
one and all clamoured loudly against its proposers. All
this tumult of calumny passed over him almost unnoticed.
At times indeed he nearly roused himself to make some
reply, lest they should occupy the public mind, and. pre-
judice his cause. But there is really no trace of any
personal feeling in any of his entries.

It was not merely cheerfulness of temper, on which
this calm was based, there was a deeper and more sure
foundation for this high-minded peacefulness under per-
petual provocation. " I get more and more to disrelish
these brawlings, and to be less touchy as to my charac-
ter. This I fear is chiefly from advancing years, and
quiescence : something from the decay of natural spirits.

176

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1816.

and some little I hope from the growing indifference to
human estimation, and from an increased value for peace
and love. But it is our clear duty to prevent our good
being evil spoken of, when we can do this by a fair and
calm defence; and I very greatly deplore my not having
prepared an answer to Marryat." His answer to one
charge, that he had pledged himself not to interfere with
the condition of the slaves, deserves to be recorded. " It
is really true," he tells Mr. Stephen, " as I must one day
state, (I grieve at my not having answered Marryat in
print ; he very wisely never would enter into a contro-
versy on his legs,) that the condition of the West Indian
slaves first drew my attention, and it was in the course
of my inquiry, that I was led to Africa and the Aboli-
tion. As long ago as in 1781, the very first year of my
being in parliament, and when I was not twenty-two
years of age, I wrote a letter to James Gordon express-
ing my hopes that some time or other I might become
the instrument of breaking, or at least of easing, the yoke
of these poor creatures."

The distresses of the country soon called him to his post :
and leaving his family at Hastings, where he had taken
them for health, he was in town by the opening of par-
liament upon the 28th of January, and found the political
horizon unusually dark. " We are here (in the Secret
Committee,)" he writes back to Hastings, " in the midst
of accounts of plots, &c, but a gracious Providence, I
trust, watches over us. Remember to pray in earnest
against sedition, privy conspiracy, and rebellion." His
time was now fully occupied. " I feel," he writes from
the table of the Secret Committee room, " the effects of
sitting up too late. But do not be uneasy, I am pretty

well. Dear asks about our Committee, though he

very properly checks himself. We are not to divulge;
but thus much I may say, though do not let it be re-
peated out of doors, that the seizing of the ringleaders
on Sunday last prevented bloodshed from the Spa Fields
mob on Monday. Hunt seems a foolish, mischief-making
fellow, but no conspirator, though the tool of worse and
deeper villains. Cobbett is the most pernicious of all ;

1817.

PARENTAL FEELING.

177

but God will bless and keep us, I fear not; and it is
highly gratifying that all the truly religious classes have
nothing to do with the seditious proceedings. The
blasphemous songs and papers of the seditious will dis-
gust all who have any religion, or any decency."

So constant were at this time the calls on his attention
that he assures Mr. Roberts, 44 you have perhaps supposed
that now I am no longer member for Yorkshire 1 have
as much leisure as I can desire for my own enjoyment
and the service of my friends. If such wras your sur-
mise, never I assure you were you more mistaken. I
do not find the smallest diminution of the amount of my
business, though there is some difference in its nature."
Yet in the midst of all this occupation the flow of his
kindly natural affections wTas as warm and free as if his
mind was never burdened by a single thought of busi-
ness. Some of its expressions in his correspondence
with his family are peculiarly striking; and his letters,
though written often in " those edgings of time, which
like the edgings of cloth or other substances are their
least valuable part," are full of thought and manly ten-
derness. " Mr. R.'s last letter," he writes to Hastings
at this time, 44 suggests to me some very painful fears

that 's temper has been again ungoverned — dear,

dear boy. Though writing at the Commitee table with
people all around me, I can scarce refrain from tears
while I thus write about him. Oh that he would pray
earnestly ! How sure I am that he would then be blessed
with grace, and be enabled to make our hearts leap for
joy. Farewell — a thousand times God bless you all !"

This was the great aim of his parental watchfulness.
44 O if I could but see them give up their hearts to God,"
he says in another letter, " I think that I could cheerfully

lay down my life." 44 Above all, my dearest ," he

wrrites to one of them on his tenth birth-day, 44 1 am
anxious to see in you decisive marks of this great change.
I come again and again to look and see if it be indeed
begun, just as a gardener walks up again and again to
examine his fruit trees, and see if his peaches are set,
and if they are swelling and becoming larger ; finally, if

178

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE

1817.

they are becoming ripe and rosy. I would willingly
walk barefoot from this place" (near London) " to Sand-
gate, to see a clear proof of it in my dear at the

end of my journey." " May God bless you, and if it be
His will, may we be long spared to each other. I am
strongly impressed with a persuasion that this will much
depend on the goings-on of our children; and as I have
often said, let it be with us an argument for growing in
grace, that in proportion as we do thus cultivate an in-
terest, if I may so express it, in the court of Heaven, the
more we shall insure our children's edification in answer
to our earnest prayers."

Upon his busiest days he found time to write to them.
" Were it not," he tells one of his daughters, " that my
eyes were so weak, and that, in such a state, writing by
candle-light does not suit me, especially after a full day's
work following a bad night, you would have received a
good long letter instead of this sheetling. My last night's
wakefulness arose in fact from my thinking on some
subjects of deep interest, from which, though I made
several efforts, I could not altogether withdraw my
thoughts. My mind obeyed me indeed while I continued
wide awake, but when I was dropping half asleep it
started aside from the serious and composing train of
ideas to which I had forced it up; and like a swerving
horse chose to go its own way rather than mine. I like
to direct my language as well as my thoughts and feel-
ings towards you on a Saturday night, because it serves
as a preparation for that more continued mental inter-
course with you in which I allow myself on the Sunday.
When I was a bachelor, and lived alone, I used to enliven
the dullness of a solitary Sunday dinner by mustering my
friends arcund me in idea, and considering how I could
benefit any of them ; and now how7 can there be a more
suitable employment of a part of the Lord's day, than
thus to call my absent children round me? And you,

, and , will present yourselves to-morrow ; and

I shall pray that our great heavenly Shepherd will num-
ber you amongst the sheep of His pasture, and guide you
at last into His fold above."

1817.

LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN-.

179

Many of these letters are highly indicative of his
peculiar character of mind, from their cheerfulness sub-
siding into serious thought as affection stirred the deeper
current of his feelings. Thus to one of his younger sons
he writes from London.

" House of Commons.

" 3Iy dear ,

I take advantage of a dull speech to come up-stairs

and chat a little with my dear , though I heartily

regret that I alone can be the speaker, for I should gladly
hear my dear boy's voice and see his countenance.
Yesterday was the first time of my going to Kensington
Gore. I had no comfort there, but many qualms of
emptiness when you were all away, and only vacant
places to remind me of the want of you. I hope Mr* L.
told you that I had tried to get your watch mended in
time to go down to you by him, but in vain. A broken
limb is not so easily repaired, especially when it is re-
quired that the party shall go as he did before. I am
sorry to hear that the substitute you have is liable to oc-
casional headaches. I hope you will bear this in mind
in your treatment of it, and not let it be stunned or stupi-
fied through carelessness."

" My very dear boy, 1 received no little pleasure from
the account which Air. L. gave of you. I hope that

while he is absent from his earthly father, my dear

will look up the more earnestly to that heavenly Father,
who watches over all who trust in Him. Try to bring
on your brother in all good, ever remembering my ad-
vice not to be satisfied with not being unkind, but trying
to be positively kind. Above all remember prayer is
the great means of spiritual improvement, and guard as
you would against a wild beast which was lying in a
bush by which you were to pass, ready to spring on you
— guard in like manner against wandering thoughts
when you are at prayer, either by yourself or in the
family. Nothing grieves the spirit more than our wil-
lingly suffering our thoughts to wander, and fix them-
selves on any object which happens at the time to in-

180 LIFE OF WILBERFORCE. 1817.

terest us. May God bless and keep you, my very dear

boy. 1 think that my dear is greatly improved in

bearing little crosses of inclination properly, and I do
hope that God will hear my prayers for him, and will
make him a comfort and support to my declining years.
I have indulged the serious train of thought into which I
naturally fall in writing to my children, and am ever,
my dear ,

Your most affectionate father,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

Nor was it for his children only that this tenderness of
spirit had survived all the chilling influences of a long
public life. His affection for his friends was in its degree
as strong. " I am writing," he tells Mrs. Wilberforce,
" at C.'s, with whom I am come to dine tete-a-tete. He
sees no other company, dear fellow, so that it is a great
pleasure to him I believe, and must be beneficial also,
for me to sit with him as much as I can. You may be
sure therefore, that I do my best in this way. It is a sad
encroachment on my time; but I love him more and
more, and value him not less. I must copy for you a
short passage from Southey's last letter. 1 1 hope from
your mention of C. that I was mistaken in representing
him to be in a dangerous state of health. Yet when I
saw him, I could not but fear that he was not long to be
a sojourner on earth. There is an expression in his
countenance at times, which has more of heaven than
of earth about it ; something wrhich is at once inexpres-
sibly sweet and mournful, like the smile of a broken
heart.' Do show this beautiful passage to Mr. Rolliston,
who appeared to me to enter fully into C.'s character.
Indeed let all see it, as the beautifully tender sentiment,
exquisitely expressed, of a very superior man concern-
ing my dear friend. Lord Bacon says, that we bear
better to hear our friends abused, than our enemies well
spoken of. But I am sure that the converse of this dic-
tum of the great Bacon's holds true in my instance ; for
this eulogy on the expression of my dear friend's coun-

1817.

WISH TO SUPPORT GOVERNMENT.

181

tenance has given me very great pleasure. I must
break off. Farewell. — "

One other brief but touching instance shall be added
from these crowded days.

" My dear Stephen,

You appeared to me to look unhappy last night, as if
something was giving you pain either in body or mind.
It will be a pleasure to me to hear that this was not so ; or
if it was, and I can help to remove it, let me try.

Ever affectionately yours,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

The inquiries of the Secret Committee disclosed a fear-
ful extent and degree of disaffection. " You and I agree,"
he wrote to Mr. Macaulay before he came to town, "in
esteeming it to be the duty of every good subject to sup-
port government when he can. But then I own 1 feel
that to draw on ourselves the ill-will, and worse than
neutrality, of opposition on all West Indian questions,
when we cannot have government as our friends, is to
act in a way, which though it might become our duty if
the ship were in danger of going down, is not to be ex-
pected from us unless in such critical circumstances. I
have again and again been silent when I should have
spoken against the democrats, and even oppositionists,
more especially against party, but for the consciousness
that I had to look to the opposition rather than to govern-
ment, as our supporters in the Registry Bill and West
Indian matters."

The unsettled aspect of the times now so far suspended
these ordinary motives, that he prepared to take an ac-
tive part in strengthening the hands of the executive.

A sharp and sudden fit of illness seized him the very
day following the presentation of their Report by the
Secret Committee, so serious as to hurry Mrs. Wilber-
force to London on the summons of the friends who
wratched anxiously the inroads it was making on his
feeble constitution; but after about three weeks, the
cough, which was its worst symptom, yielded to medi-

VOL. II. 16

182

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1817.

cal treatment, and on the 11th of March he "thanked
God that he was much better, but giving this week to
annealing." His first attendance in the House was on
the 18th, on the Lottery question. In moving its sup-
pression, " Lyttleton argued too much like a man who is
conscious that he is liable to be quizzed by his gay com-
panions for talking of religion, morality, &c. Romilly
as commonly was feeling, moral, and elevated. I had
not arranged any order of thought, and I argued it too
much on the ground of its effects, though not omitting
higher considerations, but not enough introducing God's
providence and will, (in the way wherein alone proper
there,) and subjecting myself therefore to the answer
Castlereagh gave, as if it were a question of feeling, not
of right and wrong. How shocking does it seem to me
on cool consideration, deliberately, for the sake of
£500,000 per annum, to break God's laws and abjure
his protection ! Oh may he forgive us."

" Poor Sally More," says his Diary, May 19th, " died
about a week ago, after long and extreme suffering; yet
never impatient, but perfectly submissive and resigned —
what a triumph of grace ! All the world wild about Dr.
Chalmers; he seems truly pious, simple, and unassuming.
Sunday, 25th. Off early with Canning, Huskisson, and
Lord Binning, to the Scotch Church, London Wall, to
hear Dr. Chalmers. Vast crowds — Bobus Smith, Lord
Elgin, Harrowby, &c. So pleased with him that I went
again ; getting in at a window with Lady D. over iron
palisades on a bench. Chalmers most awful on carnal
and spiritual man. Home tired, and satisfied that I had
better not have gone for edification." " I was surprised
to see how greatly Canning was affected ; at times he
quite melted into tears. I should have thought he had
been too much hardened in debate to show such signs of
feeling." " All London," he was soon after told in a
very different circle from his own, " has heard of your
climbing in at that window." With the healthful play of
a vigorous mind he entered readily into the joke. "I was
surveying the breach with a cautious and inquiring eye,

1817.

PUBLIC DISTURBANCES.

183

when Lady D., no shrimp you must observe, entered
boldly before me, and proved that it was practicable."

In reviewing the month of May of this year, he in-
dulges most feelingly in regret at the amount of time
dissipated by the numerous visiters who thronged his
house, often consuming the most important part of the
day. Many, if not most of them, called on him for
counsel or assistance, either in cases of personal interest
or public benefit; though he laments the consumption of
time, he could not but be sensible to the service he was
rendering. Thus urging one of his children to steady
application — " You cannot conceive," he says, " w7ith
what pleasure I look forward to the time when you will
be able to engage in plans for the improvement and hap-
piness of your fellow-creatures. I cannot but feel it as
an honour, though except to a son I should not mention
it, that when people have any scheme in view that is to
do good they come to me as an ally in such a warfare
against sin and misery." The very next day's Diary
supplies an instance of these customary applications.
"Cunninghame came in, and young Mr. W., with a
charitable case of a foreigner and his family. I so
much respect young W., a marine lieutenant giving up
his half-pay for his father's support, and maintaining him-
self as a clerk in a warehouse, and yet busying himself
for these poor people, that I coiJd not help becoming an-
swerable for the £20 he wanted for them, if I could not
get it from the Distressed Foreigner's Institution."

The aspect of the times was again clouded over. " At
Babington's, the window being open, we heard a shout,
which we soon found was produced by Watson's ac-
quittal. The Chief Justice Ellenborough summed up
strongly against the prisoner, but it is said there was a
jury-man who was decided to acquit. How ill-judged was
it of government to suffer the trial to drag on so ! Never
surely was there a criminal convicted — never one who
did not become popular — after having been the subject
of a trial for six or seven days." The Secret Committee
was now sitting, and he attended constantly at its delibe-
rations, in vain endeavouring, on the 18th, "to get Pon-

184

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1817.

sonby and Lord Milton to agree to the Report ; they de-
cidedly resolved not to do so ;" and on the next day
" altering the part respecting the employment of the
secret informer." The Report was presented on the
20th, and on the 23d the Suspension of the Habeas Cor-
pus Act was proposed by government. Mr. Wilberforce
reluctantly supported what he deemed an unavoidable
severity. His freedom from all party spirit gave a
weight to his decision, which was keenly felt by opposi-
tion. Sir Samuel Romilly directed all his powers of
eloquence and reasoning to take off the effect of so un-
impeachable a judgment; and another member in a dif-
ferent strain attacked him warmly on the third reading
with an unworthy sarcasm aimed at his religious work.
" The honourable and religious member," as he addressed
him amidst cries of order from all sides of the House,
" could hardly vote for any measure more thoroughly
opposed to vital Christianity." He was strongly tempted
to retort on his opponent the obvious epithet suggested
by his opening sarcasm ; but with rare forbearance he
repressed the impulse to render railing for railing.

" I shall take no notice," he began, " of what has been
said concerning myself, though I claim no credit for my
silence, for I am well convinced there is not a man in
the House who would not feel lowered by replying to
such language as the honourable member has allowed
himself to use." " How," he said turning round to the
preceding speaker, " how can the honourable member
talk thus of those religious principles on which the wel-
fare of the community depends 1 I would fain believe
that he desires as sincerely as I do myself to perpetuate
to his country the blessings she enjoys. But if I could
be base enough to seek the destruction of those institu-
tions which we both profess to revere, I will tell him
what instrument I wrould choose. I would take a man
of great wealth, of patrician family, of personal popu-
larity, ay, and of respectable talents, and I am satisfied
that such a one, while he scattered abroad the firebrands
of sedition under pretence that he went all lengths for
the people, would in reality be the best agent in the

1817.

SPANISH TREATY.

185

malevolent purpose of destroying their liberties and hap-
piness."

His Diary simply states, " B. forced me up in self-de-
fence, and the House sided with me, though I forgot
what I meant to say." " But never in my parliamentary
life," says a member present, "did 1 hear a speech which
carried its audience more completely with it, or was
listened to with such breathless attention." " I cannot
recall," says another, " the capital sentence with which
he concluded ; and the reporters, for I looked in the
papers next morning, did no justice to its force. But I
well remember the manner in which he worked up his
supposition, and then brought it home to his opponent.

You know B 's manner when attacked, his head high,

his body drawn up. His tall figure as he sat on the
upper bench immediately behind was the higher of the
two, even when Wilberforce stood up to speak. But
when after speaking for a few minutes Wilberforce
turned round to address him amidst the cheers of the
House, he seemed like a pigmy in the grasp of a giant.
I never saw such a display of moral superiority in my
life."

Nothing can make his uniform forbearance more in-
structive than the knowledge that he at all times pos-
sessed this ready power of self-defence. " If there is
any one," said Mr. Canning, " who understands thorough-
ly the tactics of debate, and knows exactly what will
carry the House along with him, it certainly is my hon-
ourable friend the member for Bramber."

He had declined pushing the bill for the Registration of
Negroes in the British Colonies, from an apprehension
that it might hinder the progress of the treaty with
Spain, in which he laboured diligently to procure a clause
for the Abolition of the Slave Trade by that power. His
Journal records frequent interviews with the ministry on
this subject, and correspondence with the commissioners
by whom the treaty was framed. These exertions were
happily crowned with success, and he writes as follows
to Mr. Macaulay.

16*

186

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1817.

"Stansted, Oct. 9th, 1817.

" My dear Macaulay,

However pressed for time, I must tell you without de-
lay, or renounce forever all claims to being capable of
the relations of peace and amity, that a very friendly
and handsome letter from Lord Castlereagh informs me
that he has actually received the Treaty with Spain
(signed) for abolishing the Slave Trade generally and
finally in May 1820, and immediately to the north of the
line. Also, which is scarcely less valuable, that a system
of mutual search is agreed to be established for enforcing
the Abolition Law. Well may we praise God ! I do
congratulate you my dear friend, and no one has more
right than you to be congratulated : for no one has done
or suffered so much as yourself in and for this great
cause."

It was indeed "glorious intelligence" — a blessed fruit
of many years of labour, spent in striving calmly and
patiently to arouse the slumbering moral sense of a great
people. " Let us," is his characteristic call to his fellow
wrorker, Mr. Stephen, "let us praise God for it."

The first few weeks of the recess were spent by Mr.
Wilberforce in clearing off the unavoidable accumula-
tions of the session. They were busy and fatiguing
days, and exposed to continual interruptions from the
calls of charity, against which his doors were never
closed. "July 21st. The birth-day of my two eldest
children. I regretted that I was so hurried; I had little
time to give to them, or to prayer for them. A poor
woman called immediately after breakfast, just when I
had meant to spend a quiet hour in devotion ; but I
called to mind Christ's example, and looked up to Him,
hoping that I should please Him more by giving up my
own plan and pursuing His — writing for her."

He was also writing to the Emperor of Russia, urging
him to take such steps in the approaching Congress as
should secure the execution of the Abolition compact.

To these employments was soon added a kind and

1817.

REFLECTIONS ON DEATH.

187

constant attendance on the death-bed of a sister of Mrs.
Wilberforce.

" How striking," he writes, " it is to see a tender-
spirited young woman looking the last great enemy in
the face, with as much calm resolution as was ever
shown by any military hero in the field — with far more,
indeed ; for far more surely is required where all around
tends to soften the mind, and give reason its full unruffled
exercise, than when the drums, and trumpets, and artil-
lery, and the bustle of war has excited all the passions.
She has long been her mother's consolation and earthly
support ; but these services can be rendered by other
friends, or even by confidential dependants. There are
still higher services which so much loved an object can
alone render ; weaning from this world and exercising
faith, and patience, and child-like confidence and love.
The effects of these will endure for ever; and the day
will, I doubt not, arrive, when the mother shall see that
her daughter was selected as the honoured instrument,
after being her best and most assiduous friend in this
world, of obtaining for her these still more excellent
blessings. O my dear friend, the day is coming when it
will be delightful to follow out all these now mysterious
lines of Providence from the dark cloud in which they
are at first wrapped, into the full brightness of celestial
glory. This thought was brought powerfully to my
mind this morning, when observing that a passion-flower
was about to open we stopped for about five minutes,
and beheld the complete developement of the beauties
and symmetry of the interior.

;< May God bless you and yours, my dear friend.
What a blessing is friendship ? How true is the psalmist's
exclamation, 6 How good it is to dwell together in unity V
It is in short a heaven upon earth. May we realize it
here, from its being the reflection from the better and
less imperfect state of it beyond the mountains. Kindest
remembrances to all common friends, and believe me
ever,

Your affectionate and sincere friend,

W. Wilberforce."

188

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1817.

This was now become the ordinary temper of his
mind. The morning clouds had passed away, and he
walked in the fullest sunshine of " peace and joy in be-
lieving." His earlier Journals contain, as has been seen,
records of hard struggles with "divers temptations;"
but the power of the enemy had been long since re-
buked ; and after the most close and jealous self-exami-
nation he could humbly say, " I prefer spiritual to carnal
pleasures, and never suffer any thing sensual to get the
advantage over me deliberately. Am I guarded enough
on the sudden He was still ever praying to be more
fully "quickened, warmed, and purified;" and at times
he complained " from what cause soever it is, my heart
is invincibly dull. I have again and again gone to
prayer, read, meditated, yet all in vain. Oh, how little
can we do any thing without the quickening grace of
God ! I will go again to prayer and meditation. Blessed
be God, His promises do not vary with our stupid insen-
sibility to them. Surely God has always blessed me in
all things, both great and small, in a degree almost un-
equalled, and never suffered me materially to fail when
there has been an occasion for exertion."

But though occasionally harassed by such "dulness
of heart," his ordinary spirit was far different. The full
spring of love and joy, and thankfulness was bursting
forth into spontaneous expression in his conversation, his
letters, and his Journal. All the natural objects round
him had become the symbols of the presence and love of
his heavenly Father, and like the opening of the passion-
flower, suggested to him some new motives for thank-
fulness and praise. " I was walking with him in his
veranda," says a friend, " the year before, watching for
the opening of a night-blowing cereus. As we stood by
in eager expectation, it suddenly burst wide open before
us. 1 It reminds me,' said he, as we admired its beauty,
6 of the dispensations of Divine Providence first breaking
on the glorified eye, when they shall fully unfold to the
view, and appear as beautiful as they are complete.' "
" For myself," says one of his letters, (Aug. 28th,) when
to his own family he unveiled his heart, " I can truly

1817.

HIS HAPPY TEMPER.

189

say, that scarcely any thing has at times given me more
pleasure than the consciousness of living as it were in an
atmosphere of love ; and heaven itself has appeared de-
lightful in that very character of being a place, in which
not only every one would love his brethren, but in which
every one would be assured that his brother loved him,
and thus that all was mutual kindness and harmony,
without one discordant jarring; all sweetness without
the slightest acescency."

There was no obtrusive display of such emotions.
True Christian joy is for the most part a secret as well
as a serene thing. The full depth of his feelings was
even hidden from his own family. " I am never affected
to tears," he says more than once, " except when I am
alone." A stranger might have noticed little else than
that he was more uniformly cheerful than most men of
his time of life. Closer observation showed a vein of
Christian feeling mingling with and purifying the natural
flow of a most happy temper; whilst those who lived
most continually with him, could trace distinctly in his
tempered sorrows, and sustained and almost child-like
gladness of heart, the continual presence of that "peace
which the world can neither give nor take away." The
pages of his later Journal are full of bursts of joy and
thankfulness ; and with his children, and his chosen
friends, his full heart welled out ever in the same blessed
strains; he seemed too happy not to express his hap-
piness ; his " song was ever of the loving-kindness of the
Lord." An occasional meeting at this time with some
who had entered life with him and were now drawing
wearily to its close with spirits jaded and tempers worn
in the service of pleasure or ambition, brought out
strongly the proof of his better " choice." " This ses-
sion," he says, " I met again Lord , whom I had

known when we were both young, but of whom I had
lost sight for many years. He was just again returned
to parliament, and we were locked up together in a
committee room during a division. I saw that he felt
awkward about speaking to me, and went therefore up
to him. ' You and I, my Lord, wTere pretty well ac-

190

LIFE OF YVILBERFORCE.

1817.

quainted formerly.' 'Ah, Mr. Wilberforce,' he said
cordially ; and then added with a deep sigh, ' you and I
are a great many years older now.' * Yes, we are, and
for my part I can truly say that I do not regret it.'
' Don't you?' he said, with an eager and almost incredu-
lous voice, and a look of wondering dejection, which I
never can forget." " You must allow that Mr. Wil-
berforce is cheerful," said some of his friends to one who
had just spent a week in the same house with him, and
who was fixing on religion the old charge of dulness.
M Yes," she said in a tone intended to convey reproach,
"and no wonder: I should be always cheerful too, if I
could make myself as sure as he does that I was going
to heaven."

Yet with all this constant cheerfulness there was a
marvellous sobriety in his religion. His secret records
of humiliation are aimed at specific faults, and do not
waste themselves in generalities. " How sad," he says
on one of these occasions, M that I am still molested by
the love of human estimation ; so that when a man whom
I think of very mean intellect spoke disparagingly of me
before others I felt vexed. What weakness ! and all the
time abhorring myself for it too ; what a strange thing
is the heart of man !" Again, " I love human estimation
too well, though I trust I strive against it; and I have
no temptation to seek dishonourable gain. Now how-
ready am I to condemn those wrho addict themselves to
the latter ! Yet am not I as criminal in loving the former,
for it is the not loving God that is the vice ? O Lord,
purify me, and make me meet to be partaker of the in-
heritance of the saints in light." Again he complains,
"What over-valuation of human estimation do I find
within me ! And then also what self-complacent risings
of mind will force themslves upwards, though against
my judgment, which at the very moment condemns
them, and yet my heart then claims credit for this con-
demnation ! Oh the corruption and deceitfulness of the
heart !"

The same sober judgment watched over his hours of
unusual religious joy. " Let me put down," he says this

1817.

SOBRIETY OF HIS RELIGION.

191

month, " that I have had of late a greater degree of re-
ligious feeling than usual. Is it an omen, as has once or
twice shot across my imagination — a hint that my time
for being called away draws nigh ? Surely were it not
for my dearest wife I could not regret it, humbly hoping,
deeply unworthy as 1 am, that there is a propitiation for
our sins, and that the mercies of God through Christ
would not fail me. But oh let me check the emotions of
indolence and of trying to have done with the turmoil of
this vain world of perturbations, and give way to a more
lively gratitude for the mercies of the Saviour, and a
more active determination and consequent course of holy
obedience and usefulness. Alas, alas, considering my
opportunities, I have been a sadly unprofitable servant.
Pardon me, O Lord; quicken, soften, warm, invigorate
me, and enable me to rise from my torpor, and to imitate
the example of holy Paul, doing this one thing, forgetting
the things behind, and pressing forward towards the
mark of our high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Alas, I
fear I sadly neglect my duties to my children, and also
to the poor, for though I serve the latter more abundantly
than by individual visitation, when with the motive of
Christ's speech, (Matt. xxv. 40,) I attend to whole classes
and masses of them, yet individual visitation has its good
also. O Lord, teach, guide, quicken me. Without Thee
I can do nothing ; with Thee all things. Lord, help,
bless and keep me. Amen."

It is well worth the inquiry by what system of self-
treatment these happy fruits had been matured. They
were not merely the results of a naturally cheerful temper
leavened with religious feeling; they resulted from close
and systematic discipline. He kept a most strict watch
over his heart. He still recorded by a set of secret
marks the results of frequent and close self-examination
under a number of specific heads. He used every help
he could devise for keeping always on his soul a sense of
the nearness and the goodness of his God. " I used to
have an expedient similar to the Jewish phylacteries,
(Numb. xv. 38, 39,) in order to keep up the sense of
God's presence. Let me try it again. I must have Him

192

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1817.

for my portion and the strength of my heart, or I should
be miserable here as well as hereafter." Another custom
from which he " found great benefit was putting down
motives for humiliation, motives for thankfulness, and so
on, which" he " carried about with" him, " and could
look at during any moment of leisure." Such a paper,
copied in part from one of earlier date, appears in a
pocket-book of this year.

HUMILIATION, MEANS OF, AND TOPICS FOR.

" Consider — all my motives and just causes for gra-
titude ; constant, fervent, self-denying gratitude ; and then
with this contrast my actual state — all my means and
motives also to improvement and greater advance in the
Christian character. That if all that really passes within
were visible, all the workings of evil positive and negative,
(especially if compared with my principles and lessons
to others,) all my selfishness of feeling, and coldness of
affection, too often towards those even whom I love and
ought to love most, all my want of self-denial, all my
self-indulgence, what shame would cover me ! Yet that
comparatively I care not for its being known to God.
And is this because of His and Christ's mercy? Oh
what baseness ! My incurable, at least uncured, love of
human approbation, and my self-complacency or pain
when much granted or withheld, even when my judgment
makes me abhor myself for it. (I trust I can say I do
not allow this vicious feeling, but repress it with indigna-
tion and shame.) Oh were all that passes within in this
instance to be seen fully, what shame should I feel !
Realize this. — Look at various other Christians who have
not enjoyed half my advantages or motives to growth
in grace, yet how immeasurably they exceed me!"
(Here many individuals are mentioned.)

" How little good have I done compared with what I
might have done ! What procrastination ! Consider in
detail how deficient in the duties of an M. P., father,
master, friend, companion, brother. Resolutions broken.
Intemperance often. How sinful this when taken in

1817.

HUMILIATION.

193

relation to motives to self-denial, from love to Christ —
and to self-extinction, for me a vile ungrateful sinner !
Oh shame, shame !

"Early advantages abused, and benefits often lost.
What an (almost) hell of bad passions (despair absent)
in my soul when a youth, from emulation, envy, hatred,
jealousy, selfishness ! (Yet, alas ! justice to myself re-
quires my adding how ill-treated here.) Time, talents,
substance, &c. wasted, and shocking goings-on (Chris-
tianity considered : and after the revellings over, as
egregious waste of faculties and means among the fel-
lows; card-playing, &c. Consequent course of living
almost without God in the world, till God's good pro-
vidence checked and turned me, (oh miracle of mercy !)
in 1785, through the Dean's instrumentality.

" But, alas ! since I professed and tried to live to God,
sometimes only preserved from gross sin and shame by
preventing grace. And, alas ! even till now how little
progress, how little of the Divine nature, how little spi-
rituality either in heart or life, how little of a due adorning
of the doctrine of God my Saviour! How much vanity
and undue solicitude about human estimation ! (Oh if
transparent here !) Procrastination, inefficiency, self-in-
dulgence, living below principles and rules. Contrast
all this with my almost unequalled mercies and blessings.
And remember God and Christ foreknow all thy in-
gratitude. N. B. All thy sins, great and small, are open
to God's eye as at first, entire, and fresh, and unfaded,
except as blotted out by Christ's blood.

44 1 find it one of the best means of gaining self-abhor-
rence, after such reflection as above delineated, to con-
sider and press home what I should think and feel about
another favoured in all respects as myself, who should
be such in all particulars as I am in point of sins, negli-
gences, weaknesses, neglect and misuse of talents, &c. ;
and then contrast my sins with my mercies, my service
with my motives, my obligations with my coldness, the
gratitude due with the evil returned. Alas! alas! God
be merciful to me a sinner."

The friend, whose death-bed he was now cheering,

VOL. II. 17

194

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1817

" reading and praying with her daily," was upheld to
the last by the same consolations. When her eyes had
been closed in peace, he took his family to spend their
summer holidays at Stansted, which had been kindly lent
to him by his friend Lewis Way.

He spent a month at Stansted, " making an excursion
for twenty-four hours to Huskisson's country house,
where I was most kindly received." He delighted in
receiving almost as much as giving such proofs of friend-
ship; and with playful philosophy threw aside any of the
little troubles it entailed. " Mr. Smith, the steward," are
his Stansted Park reflections, " was all that could be
desired — extremely obliging; in short, just representing
his master. He, dear kind man, had endeavoured in
every way to render me comfortable, had left me wine,
and even china, plates, &c. ; and the key of all his libra-
ries, even of the sanctum sanctorum. We of course
tried to do as little harm as possible. Though at first I
thought we must have gone away on account of the
housekeeper's bad temper, which sadly effervesced."

Haytian business much engrossed him. His first con-
sent to enter into correspondence with Christophe led to
an assurance, " that they would take any thing from
him," and Christophe (by whom he had been entreated
to sit for his picture, a request made the year before by
Blucher) sent him in return the only portraits of himself
and of his son which he had allowed to be taken. He
was on his guard in opening this correspondence.

To avoid all misconstruction he " determined to show
Lord Liverpool the Haytian letters. I think it best; he
is a man of considerable religious principle, and surely
the prospects dawning upon Hayti will prevent his yield-
ing to the highly probable disposition of too many of the
West Indians, to blast these opening buds of moral
and social comfort and virtue." This was no exagge-
rated estimate of the interest of the cause. " Were I
five-and-twenty," Sir Joseph Bankes wrote to him asking
for Haytian information, " as I was when I embarked
with Captain Cook, I am very sure I should not lose a
day in embarking for Hayti. To see a set of human

1817.

HAYTI.

195

beings emerging from slavery, and making most rapid
strides towards the perfection of civilization, must I
think be the most delightful of all food for contempla-
tion."

Christophe was truly a great man. Born and educated
as a slave, he had raised himself to absolute power,
which he was most solicitous to use for the good of his
countrymen. To educate his people, to substitute the
English tongue for that of France, and the Reformed faith
for that of Rome, were now his leading projects; and in
them he sought for Mr. Wilberforce's aid and counsel.
His letters everywhere abound in truly elevated plans.
" He has requested me," Mr. Wilberforce tells Mr. Ste-
phen, " to get for him seven schoolmasters, a tutor for his
son, and seven different professors for a Royal College he
desires to found. Amongst these are a classical profes-
sor, a medical, a surgical, a mathematical, and a phar-
maceutical chemist." He entered warmly into Chris-
tophe's views. " Oh how I wish I was not too old, and
you not too busy to go !" he writes to Mr. Macaulay.
M It would be a noble undertaking to be sowing in such
a soil the seeds of Christian and moral improvement, and
to be laying also the foundation of all kinds of social and
domestic institutions, habits, and manners." It produces
quite a youthful glow through my whole frame," he
writes to Mr. Randolph in America, 44 to witness before
I die in this and so many other instances, the streaks of
religious and moral light illuminating the horizon, and
though now but the dawning of the day, cheering us
with the hopes of their meridian glories." It w7as with
this end especially that he undertook this new charge.
44 Christophe is not himself, I fear," he says, "governed
by religious principles," but he was ready to admit, and
ever to uphold religion. " I have succeeded," he tells
Mr. Hey, 44 in finding a physician, but I still want a sur-
geon, and much more a divine. Oh what would I give
for a clergyman who should be just such as I could ap-
prove !"

He wrote at once to Mr. Simeon to bespeak his as-
sistance in this search.

196

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1817.

" We have been," he tells one of his sons, "harder at
work than ever, and still we are in the state in which the
sea is after a great storm — a heavy swell — by no means
at rest in the haven. For till we hear the ship has actu-
ally sailed, more ' last words' are continually occurring.
And I find this Haytian connexion will by no means be
an encouragement to indolence. But I trust it will be an
occasion for doing much good, and I really look up to
God with renewed thankfulness; I say renewed, for His
having by His good providence drawn me to the Aboli-
tion business has always appeared to me to call for the
most lively gratitude. Individuals who are not in parli-
ament seldom have an opportunity of doing good to con-
siderable numbers. Even while I was writing the
sentence I became conscious of the falsehood of the
position ; witness Mrs. Hannah More, and all those who
labour with the pen. Witness Dr. Jenner, and Sir Hum-
phry Davy, and all the good clergymen, which last
class however, I meant to except from the remark. But
what various and extensive occasions of benefitting their
fellow-creatures are presented to members of parliament
in this highly-favoured country ! And what thanks do I
owe to God, for having led me from any subordinate line
of official business into lines of service of extremely ex-
tensive usefulness, and less bitterly contentious, till Mr.
Marryat entered the field, than the walks of politics ! In
this Haytian instance, we are sowing the seeds of civili-
zation and knowledge in a new society, which (may it
please God) you may live to see exhibiting the new spec-
tacle of a community of black men, of which the mass
will be as well instructed as any nation upon earth. I
will enclose you some returns of the state of the schools
which I have just now received. Pray take care of
them, and return them in three or four days, after show-
ing them to any confidential friends; but I think it is
better to keep Hayti in the back ground, till it is able to
stand on its legs in a firmer attitude.

" My dearest boy, remember my counsel. If you come
into parliament, let me earnestly entreat you not to ex-
pend yourself in speechifying on questions of grand po-

1817.

HAYTI.

197

litical, or rather I mean party contention ; but while you
take part in the public and general discussions that are
of real moment, for this is what I have commonly done,
choose out for yourself some specific object, some line of
usefulness. Make yourself thoroughly acquainted with
your subject, and you will not only be listened to with
attention, but you will please God, do great good. This
is the mode in which I have often advised young men to
proceed, but they seldom would be wise enough to follow
my counsel, and hence you hear of many of them making
one or two good speeches, and then all is over. This is
really a sad waste of the means of prodigious usefulness
which Providence has put into their power."

With such views opening on him, it was not unnatural
that he should say, " never hardly did I feel so much in-
terested as in finding proper people for Christophe, espe-
cially a tutor for his son."' This was no easy task.
When he first began the work he had received no remit-
tances from Hayti. He cared little for this, as far as it
regarded his own risk . . " if I should be a few hundred
pounds out of pocket, the money might not be ill spent . .
but" he scarcely knew what to promise others. Soon
however, he was intrusted with a considerable sum,
which " proved Christophe to be in earnest;" and he was
able to ofler liberal terms to the professors. Still it was
difficult to find any except men of broken fortunes, who
would emigrate to Hayti. " It has often struck me,"
Mr. Stephen says to him, " that you and all who have
thought on the subject without experience, have formed
an inadequate conception of the sacrifice involved in a
colonial residence. Rely on it that in general there are
only two motives strong enough to keep any man or
woman, without necessity, six months in the West In-
dies;— religious zeal, and auri sacra fames." At Hayti,
moreover, all depended on Christophe's life and power.
His demoralized and debased subjects must be coerced
into morals and civilization; and his death or a revolu-
tion, would risk the fortunes or the lives of these his
stranger guests.

Patiently and perseveringly did Mr. Wilberforce strng-
17*

198

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1817.

gle against all these difficulties, not only corresponding
largely with all quarters from which he might gather
the assistance he required, but receiving both at " Ken-
sington and Stansted the different applicants, that they
might stay with me a few days, and enable me the better
to take their dimensions." With all his overflowing
kindness he was a shrewd observer of men's characters,
and where he trusted to himself seldom imposed upon.
Scarcely ever did a complaint escape from him in all
this disagreeable service; and once only does he tell Mr.
Stephen, " S., whose weakness and vanity are doing all
the harm they can, has positively haunted us of late."
So closely did he labour at the small French writing of
this long correspondence, that his eyesight was perma-
nently injured.

CHAPTER IX.

Death of Princess Charlotte — Interest in Negroes — Mrs. Fry — Visit to
the Lakes — Efforts for benefit of Hayti — Humility — Religious Anni-
versaries.

He had now returned into the neighbourhood of Lon-
don, after spending a few days at Woodhall Park, that
he might get more undisturbed time to complete his
Haytian letters. " I have been excessively busy of late,
and in the line of duty. But my devotional time has
been too much broken in upon ; and this must not be.
Much harassed by applications for recommendations to
Hayti, by people of whom I know nothing.'' " Nov. 4th.
W. set off for college. Talked much to him to-day;
telling him the chief events of my early life. I could

not sleep quietly for anxiety ; yet dear means to

give me pleasure. I fear he will be overborne from not
forbearing to expose himself to temptation. I told him
often the main matter was to put the guard in the right
place. 6th. Heard for certain, what before reported,

1818. DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.

199

that Princess Charlotte died about five hours after the
birth of a very fine, but still-born boy. She bore her
long sufferings admirably. About ten days before, she
had remarked, * Certainly I am the happiest woman in
the world, I have not a wish ungratified — surely this is
too much to last.' The loss most deeply felt; their life
had been truly exemplary — charitable, unostentatious
kindness to all the poor around Claremont." " I must
say," is the postscript of a letter sent on this day to
Mr. Babington, " alas! for Claremont; yet surely this is
an event which reasoning on Scripture principles we
may easily comprehend, both in the probable meaning
of personal mercy, and national, as well as domestic,
punishment."

" I thought," his Diary continues, " in the night of
writing a letter to the Prince Regent, hoping to find his
heart accessible, and put down some notes for it: but
this day scarcely spent so profitably as Sundays should
be. Too little private prayer and communion with God
aimed at. Oh remember thy high calling and the pre-
cious promises, 2 Cor. vi. at the end, and 1 John iii. 1,2,
of fellowship with the Father and Christ, and Psalms
lxiii. lxxxiv. xxxvi. O sursum corda." " Sent off," he
says soon after, " a suitable letter with my Practical
View to Prince of Coburgh. May God prosper it;" —
and the notice of a " kind answer in which he promises
to read it," is followed by the prayer, " May God bless
to him the perusal of it."

The year 1818 was an important era in the West
Indian struggle; for though no ameliorating measure
was actually carried, the friends of Africa were led into
new counsels, and assumed a new position. The oppo-
sition made to the Registration Act forced them to
establish its necessity, by going into an examination of
the actual state of the slave population ; and these in-
quiries revealed at once such an amount of crime and
cruelty, as proved that there was no cure for the evils
of the system, short of its entire subversion. "Our grand
object, and our universal language," says his private
memoranda, " was and is, to produce by Abolition a dis-

200

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1818.

position to breed instead of buying. This is the great
vital principle which would work in every direction, and
produce reform every where." This had been hitherto
their only aim ; but a fuller view of the secret iniquities
of the colonial system, loo surely convinced him that
even this would not heal all its evils; and now therefore
for the first time the word emancipation occurs amongst
his secret counsels. Yet as another instance of the prac-
tical and cautious character of all his efforts, he thought
not in emancipation of depriving the owners of West
Indian properties of their present right to the labour of
their slaves, but only of granting to the slave, such civil
rights, as should bring him under the protection of just
and equal laws, and make him a member of the com-
monwealth instead of the chattel of an absent master.

The fine shadings of these altering views, and their
various colours as they pass into each other, cannot be
so well exhibited as by free extracts from the private
Diary in which they are recorded at the moment, min-
gled with the intervening objects which filled up his
time. But it is impossible within reasonable limits to
publish all there is of interest in these treasures of his
mind. He appears about this time to have had his atten-
tion turned to this question by some accounts of horrible
atrocities perpetrated in the West Indies, and led to many
consultations with his friends as to the best mode of effect-
ing a melioration of the condition of the slaves. The fol-
lowing entry may serve as a correct specimen, and exhibit
the feeling with which he regarded this important subject.
" March 8th. Sunday. Lay awake several hours in the
night, and very languid this morning. My mind is very
uneasy, and greatly distracted about the course to be
pursued in the West India matters. It is hard to decide
especially where so many counsellors. This is clear,
that in the Scriptures no national crime is condemned
so frequently, and few so strongly, as oppression and
cruelty, and the not using our best endeavours to deliver
our fellow-creatures from them. Jer. vi. 6: 4 This is a
city to be visited : she is wholly oppression in the midst
of her.' Ezek. xvi. 49 — of Sodom's crimes: 4 Neither

1818.

DIARY.

201

did she strengthen the hands of the poor and needy.'
Zeph. iii. 1, Amos iv. 1, 8, &c. I must therefore set to
work, and oh Lord, direct, and support, and bless me !
If it please Thee not to let me be the instrument of good
to these poor degraded people, may I still be found work-
ing, like dear Stephen, with vigour and simple obedience,
remembering 4 It is well for thee that it was in thy
heart.' 11th. Sadly distressed in mind about the proper
course as to West Indian matters, but I believe it is
wiser not to bring the subject forward just now, when
the public mind and too many of our friends are full of
the Indemnity Bill. Many of the opposition are our
friends.

" 28th. I am still in no little embarrassment what
course to pursue as to the West Indian question. The
denunciations not only against those who are guilty of
the positive acts of oppression, but against those who
connive at its continuance, are so strong that I am truly
uneasy at my having suffered so much time to pass
away without having done any thing for relaxing the
yoke of the most degrading and bitter bondage that ever
ground down the human species. Yet valid objections
have always occurred against every specific plan. Oh
may I be directed right! I quite long to bring some
measure forward. Lord, guide and strengthen, and
warm me with true Christian love of Thee, and desire
to benefit my fellow-creatures for His sake. 31st. Much
impressed by Mr. Buxton's book on our prisons, and the
account of Newgate reform. What lessons are taught
by Mrs. Fry's success! I am still wrarmed by the ac-
count. Were I young, I should instantly give notice of
the business, if no one else did.

" April 22d. Stephen's library for quiet, and preparing
for discussion in House on West Indian affairs. My
motion for papers explaining about Registry Bill. I spoke
long but not well — too much matter imperfectly ex-
plained and without due method. But the mercenary
feelings of some, and the prejudices of others, with
the cry against me, make the reporters so inattentive
to me, that they do not affect to report what I say.

202

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1818.

May God only enable these poor injured creatures to
find a deliverer! What men say of me is little — in some
views it is even gratifying. I used to fear I was too
popular, and I remember 6 Commit thy way unto the
Lord: trust also in Him, &c.' Only forgive me my own
many defects, infirmities and negligences.

" 24th. I could not sleep last night for thinking of poor
H. Shelton, with whom John Sargent had been yester-
day in Newgate, and described her unutterable agony —
to suffer this morning for forgery. To Education Com-
mittee by Brougham's desire — then lodgings, where
wrote and dined on cold meat. The Courier of yester-
day contains a most bitter attack on me and others for
West Indian interference; I am almost glad of it: surely
God will assert his own cause when the powers of dark-
ness thus come forward and instigate their agents. He
will overpower them. I have no fear, though my poor
weak body and decayed faculties may not enable me to
see in this world the triumph.

" May 1st. Simons staying in the house officiated at
family prayer — devotional, but not sufficiently practical;
stating warmly the privileges and enjoyments, and in a
degree the character ' of Christians, but none of those
urgent admonitions and warnings, which Scripture con-
tain, nor those exhortations to penitence. When clear
from people, to Freemasons' Hall. Meeting of the
friends of National Schools called together to replenish
the treasury — Duke of York in the chair — Archbishop
of Canterbury, York, and Bishop of London, and ten or
twelve more. Lord Harrowby moved the first resolu-
tion, which given me to second. All circumstances con-
sidered . . my having been canvassed by the Archbishop
himself, my being suspected, though falsely, of loose
attachment to the Church because I do not hate Dis-
senters . . I gave £50, — more than I could well afford, —
and doubled my annual subscription; but we are not to
suffer our good to be evil spoken of.

u 10th. Determined to come in again for Bramber, at
least for two years, under some strange circumstances.
Thus Providence seems to fashion my ways, and if I

1818.

VISIT TO THE LAKES.

203

should go entirely out of public life in two years, I hope
to have previously sown the seeds and laid the founda-
tion of the West Indian reform. I shall then, if I live,
be sixty, as much as most men's seventy. But my times,

0 Lord, are in Thy hand. Oh how truly may I say,
that goodness and mercy have followed me all my days !
What cause have I to be thankful for kind friends !
Lord Gambier most affectionate. Stephen most disin-
terested, and kind, and generous. Babington and Inglis,
Charles Grant and Macaulay too, and Col. Barry truly
friendly, frank, and kind. Surely no man ever had such
undeserved mercies. Praise the Lord, O my soul.

" 17th. Trinity Sunday. Blessed be God, I felt to-day
more sensibly than of late the power of divine things.
Was it the present reward of not yielding to the impulse
which I felt, but upon good grounds, to be longer in bed?

1 remembered Christ's rising long before day, and got
up. Babington sent me a kind letter, warning me of
H.'s excessive and vindictive rage, and intention to
charge me with duplicity (I am sure I can say in the
presence of God, none was intended) about the Bill for
permitting the removal of gangs of slaves from the Ba-
hamas to Guiana. Lord, undertake for me ; let me not
bring discredit on Thy holy faith. Thou hast the hearts
of all under Thy power, O turn them favourably towards
me. At least let me not discredit Thy cause. I will not
think on this business until to-morrow : but to-day I may
say, 6 Lord, be Thou my surety for good.' How many
are the passages in the Psalms which give comfort under
the assaults of unreasonable and violent men ! How
strongly have I felt the double man within me to-day !
I really despise and abhor myself for the rising of
thoughts referring to human estimation ; which never-
theless will rise even as to this very self-abhorrence, and
so on ad infinitum. Oh what poor creatures we are!
This should make us long for a purer heart and a better
world."

He soon after left London on an excursion to the
lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland. His spirit ex-
panded amidst rural sights and sounds, and his heart

204

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1818.

overflowed with thankfulness to the Giver of all his mer-
cies. He longed to teach all around him his own song
of gratitude, and could scarcely bear its absence. " Most
kindly received," he says after visiting an early friend,
" by T., and he lives most comfortably, to the full of that
word — I might say splendidly ; but it is grievous and
very injurious to spend day after day enjoying every
indulgence without the mention or apparent thought of
the Giver of all good, and the Object of all hopes. Oh if
a fellow-creature had given us every thing, how should
we have talked of him ! What exuberant overflowings
of gratitude should we have witnessed ! It is a delightful
place, and a magnificent house. But I find it hurt my
own mind : I felt less from the non-recognition of Christ
the latter days than the first and second. Oh that I
might more and more walk by faith habitually !" 44 Alas,
poor G., from spending all his time in hunting and farm-
ing, is grown empty and stupid. "

u There are two places," he had said in earlier life,
44 to which, if I ever marry, I will take my wife — to
Barley Wood, and Westmoreland." But Westmoreland
he had never yet found time to visit since his marriage;
and even now, the fresh arrival of some Hayti parcels
made him 44 grieve in secret over this lake expedition."
Mr. Southey had endeavoured to engage for him a
house at Keswick ; and, though unsuccessful, enticed
him onwards by letter. 44 1 am very sorry that you are
not in this delightful country during this delightful
weather. We are enjoying a real honest, old-fashioned
summer, such as summers were forty years ago, when I
used to gather grapes from my grandmother's chamber
window — warm weather for polemical writing ; and yet
little as such writing is to my taste, I have been em-
ployed in it for the last week. B., with his usual indis-
cretion, thought fit to attack me from the hustings. It
was wholly unprovoked, as I had taken no part what-
ever in the election, and every thing which he said of
me was untrue. So I am giving him such a castigation
as he never had before, and which it is to be hoped may
last him for his life." Ten days later he writes again.

1818.

dr. Johnson's religion.

205

" The heat of the summer is checked, and we are en-
joying sun and showers, with just such a temperature as
makes exercise pleasant, and allows one to enjoy a little
fire at night. I am as true to the hearth as a cricket or
a favourite spaniel, and reckon it a privation when the
weather is too hot for enjoying this indulgence.,,

Some continuous extracts from his Diary during this
excursion will show the natural working of his mind in a
time of relaxation. Leaving Elmdon on the 10th, he
reached Seaforth House, near Liverpool, upon the 11th
of August. " When we got upon the paved roads, our
linch-pin twice came out, and our spring-straps broke.
A kind Providence favoured us, that no accident. Praise
the Lord, O my soul.

" 12th. Morning and evening prayers. How grati-
fying that we have some Christian merchants! Most
kind treatment. Stayed at home for writing. Mr. J.
remarkably pleasant — overflowing, and sparkling all the
while. In the evening got into an argument about Dr.
Johnson's religion. Mr. J. showed me afterwards Dr.
Johnson's affecting farewell to Windham — 1 May you
and I find some humble place in the better world, where
we may be admitted as penitent sinners. Farewell. God
bless you for Christ's sake, my dear Windham.'

" In the night," he tells a friend to whom his heart
was open, " a certain subject is apt to get the better of
me and keep me awTake ; not so much from direct dis-
tress as from its being so interesting that it occupies the
mind, and the effort of thought w7hich is required for
turning to another subject wakes me." These wakeful
nights were a great drain upon his strength, but careful
self-discipline had taught him the true Christian alchemy
which can extract from all outward things the elements
of gratitude and praise. " I am up late," says his Jour-
nal, " from having a very sleepless night, though blessed
be God a very comfortable one — no pain and even no
anxiety; my mind meditating gratitude to God for all
his mercies, and thinking over passages of the Psalms."
It was a striking sight on such a morning to contrast his
" hunted" and languid frame with tftb full burst of thank-

VOL. II. 18

20(5

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE..

1818.

fulness and joy, which seemed to flow most freely when
the weakness of the body showed that it sprung from a
spiritual and heavenly source.

" Sept. 2d. R. and S. off to see Keswick." They
went longing to see Southey, but charged not to call
upon him, " lest seeing lads of your age, should too pain-
fully remind him of the son whom he has lost."

" 5th. I took a two hours' walk by Rydale and Gras-
mere, and a good deal tired." It was not a little affect-
ing to see him retracing with delight all his haunts of
earlier days — another man in many things ; his body
bent and weakened, but his mind furnished and matured ;
his soul purer and well established after many struggles ;
but having passed through all the bustling scenes of an
unquiet life with the simplicity of early tastes and affec-
tions unimpaired, pointing out to his children every well-
remembered beauty, and teaching them by golden pre-
cepts and a most eloquent example the secret of his own
calm and happy temper. "Why should you not buy a
house here," one of his children asked him, as they
walked, " and then we would come here every year?"
" I should enjoy it," was his answer, k as much as any
one, my dear, but we must remember we are not sent
into the world merely to admire prospects and enjoy
scenery. We have nobler objects of pursuit. We are
commanded to imitate Him, who came not to be minis-
tered unto, but to minister. It doubles my own enjoy-
ment to see my dear children enjoy these scenes w7ith
me ; and now and then, when we need rest from severe
labours, it may be permitted to us to luxuriate in such
lovely spots, but it is to fit us for a return to duty ; and
we must bear in mind too that at present we are in a
world which is in a measure under the wrath of God,
and there is much mercy in every natural beauty that is
left in it. We may be contented to wait for full enjoy-
ment till wTe get above to that blessed place, where the
desire of our gracious God to bless us shall meet with
no obstruction, and His love shall have no check upon
its full exercise."

Yet he tasted thankfully of present pleasures. " I do
not often," he tells Mr. Stephen, " get out of the garden

1818.

VISIT TO LAKES.

207

for any vagarious wanderings, but whenever I do ex-
tend my walk, as to-day, for instance, when I was se-
duced from pacing it upon the terrace with my reader
at my side, and get among the rocks, and scale the
mountains, I quite long to have you with me." "7th.
Busy till one. Then on Winandermere. Dined in the
boat, under the lee of the great Island. Home late, a
delightful evening. Yesterday evening charming. Walked
out at night and saw the moon and a flood of light from
Wordsworth's terrace. 20th. Fair at church-time, and

I went to Grasmere, where read a common-place

sermon at cantering or rather galloping pace; he
preached last Sunday a sad trifling sermon on repairing
Chester cathedral ; and before that, one chiefly taken
from Hall's on the Princess Charlotte, utterly unintelli-
gible to the bulk of his hearers. He dined with us, and
I was sorry to find he already knew Cooper's Practical
Sermons. I hoped they would have approved them-
selves to him — but alas! In the afternoon I walked to
two or three cottages, and talked on religion to the peo-
ple." His fervent spirit could scarce be contained in
the full sight of such a state of things. "Our population,"
Mr. Southey told him, "is in a deplorable state both as
to law and gospel. The magistrates careless to the last
degree; whilst the clergyman of has the compre-
hensive sin of omission to answer for. The next gene-
ration I trust will see fewer of these marrying and
christening machines. The manners of the people have
dreadfully worsened during his long sleep. Even within
my remembrance there has been a great change."

During his short stay amongst the Lakes he did what
he could to check this evil. He strove to rouse the
slumbering energies of all whom he could reach or in-
fluence, and in all his scenery excursions visited the
poor himself. He wrote

TO SAMUEL SMITH, ESQ. M. P. WOOD HALL PARK.

From " Muncaster Castle, Cumberland, Oct. 1, 1818.

" My dear Friend,

I should be strongly urged to take up my pen to write

208

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1818.

to you, were it only to satisfy the feelings which are
daily produced in me as I revisit the various scenes of
this delightful country, over which you and I rambled
two-and-forty years ago. What reason, my dear friend,
have we both to consider as addressed to ourselves the
injunction of Holy Scripture, 4 Thou shalt remember all
the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty
years P but there the parallel ceases, for the passage
goes on 1 through the wilderness,' whereas both to you
and to me, (as you I doubt not are as ready to admit as
I am,) life has been any thing but a wilderness. In truth
it has not been a country flowing with milk and honey
only, but with every other benefit and enjoyment which
the heart of man could wish for, and more than any
w7ould be presumptuous enough to request. You may
conceive on reflection what interesting recollections are
called forth in my breast, when 1 recall to mind the
scenes we visited, the objects which then engaged our
minds, the conversation which passed between us, (I am
now within a very few miles of Wastdale Head, the val-
ley in which we slept, or rather passed the night, in the
same wooden crib after piercing through the Gorge of
Borrodale,) and then when I proceed to review the long
line of subsequent events, what do I see, but the con-
tinual bounty of the great Ordainer of all things ? What
reason have I to adopt the language of the psalmist,
* Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all the
days of my life !• I cannot but add, Oh that my grati-
tude were more commensurate with the vast and un-
ceasing kindness and long-suffering (for long-suffering
also I must add) of my unwearied Benefactor ! But
how I am running on ! I have abundantly proved the
truth of the remark with which I opened, that I was
stimulated to write to you by my feelings alone. Fare-
well, my dear friend, and believe me,

Yours sincerely and affectionately,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

Another letter, dated the same day, is an instance of

1818.

SOUTHEY.

209

the various claims upon his thoughts which found him
out at Muncaster as surely as in London.

" Muncaster Castle, Oct. 1, 1818.

" My dear Macaulay,

K , a young man who was rakish and in distress,

is now stopping in Madeira, on his way to the East
Indies. He now professes to be penitent; praises Dod-
dridge's Rise and Progress, &c. I hope all may be
well, but dare not be too sanguine. Will you mention
him, and forward the enclosed, to some pious man (Ed-
wards I think is the name) resident in Madeira, who, if
K. be really religiously impressed, may help to kindle
the smoking flax.

I am ever affectionately yours,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

" Spent the following week at Keswick — visited Sou-
they, who very pleasing, light as a bird in body, and till
the loss of his son, I hear his flow of spirits astonishing.
He is a man of extraordinary method and punctuality;
hence booksellers love to have to do with him. His library
excellent ; filled with curious Spanish and Portuguese
manuscript volumes. He allots one time (before break-
fast) to poetry, another to history, and so on. His His-
tory of Brazil is that to which he looks for fame. He
is kind, hospitable, generous, virtuous, and I hope, reli-
gious, but too hasty in his judgments, and too rash in
politics. Hence he would be a dangerous counsellor,
though an able defender."

" R. and S. got to Rydale on Thursday night, and are
staying with the Wordsworths. I heard just before I
went, that the daughters of a shopkeeper who had lately
returned to Keswick with an acquired fortune had set
up a Sunday school. I called on them and gave them
£2 for it, and encouraged them. The vicar would not
join, though they are churchwomen. I was much in-
clined to stay till Monday in order to see after the school
on Sunday, but could not send for the two boys to us.

I tried to urge to religious efforts for the town, but

18*

210

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1818

could not prevail on him ; he pleaded want of time, no
co-operators, &c. I long to settle there and try to do
some good, though I see the difficulties great. On the
22d a Bible meeting is to be held, Richmond having
written to the Dissenting minister — not well judged. It
caused me much pain and self-reproach afterwards that
I had not fixed to stay over Sunday. May God forgive
me. O let us yield to the still small voice, and make
doing religious good overbear at once all other conside-
rations."

" Southey with us — much delighted with him." What
Southey thought of him may be told in his own words.
" I saw more of your father during his short residence
in this country, than at any or at all other times ; and
certainly I never saw any other man who seemed to
enjoy such a perpetual serenity and sunshine of spirits.
In conversing with him you felt assured that there was
no guile in him ; that if ever there was a good and happy
man on earth, he was one; and that, eminently blessed
as he wras with a benign and easy disposition, the crown
of all his blessings was that inward and undisturbed peace
which passeth all understanding.

" 1 recollect one circumstance during his visit to the
Lakes, which shows the perfect reliance his servants had
upon his good nature, — forbearance it might have been
called in any other person, but in him it was no effort.
The coachman came in to say that some provision con-
cerning the horses had been neglected, and your father
with a little start of surprise, replied, ' that indeed he had
not thought of it.' 6 No !' said the coachman, and 4 since
you have been in this country, you have all of you been
so lake, and valley, and river, and mountain mad, that
you have thought of nothing that you ought to have
thought of/ "

His summer rambles and the expedition to the Lakes
had not withdrawn the thoughts of Mr. Wilberforce
from his Haytian and West Indian clients. Before he
left the neighbourhood of London he was preparing to
make an effort in their favour at the approaching Con-
gress at Aix la Ghapelle ; and urged Mr. Stephen u to

1818.

HAYTIAN PROFESSORS.

211

prepare something for Lord Castlereagh's perusal while
yet in this country, to which we may refer, and which
may predispose him to the cause of Hayti." All his plans
for this purpose failed.

The refusal to acknowledge Christophe's independence
produced consequences most injurious to Hayti. There
was no measure which was urged more constantly by
Mr. Wilberforce in all his intercourse with Christophe,
than that he should reduce his army. "I fear lest his
own troops should leave him ; and 1 long to wean him
from his hankering after the conquest of the Haytian
republic." But until his independence was acknowledged,
he must maintain his troops to guard against a French
invasion ; and though this necessity led, as Mr. Wilber-
force too truly prophesied, to his ultimate destruction,
" he defended his measures in so masterly a manner, that
no crowned head in Europe could send forth a letter more
creditable either to the understanding or principles of its
author."

His own share meanwhile in these counsels wras often
full of perplexity. His correspondence with Christophe
and his ministers was sufficiently laborious ; and the
general superintendence of the emigrants to Hayti, was
sure to cause him disappointment and annoyance. Par-
ties must be chosen from all ranks of life — professors for
the royal college, physicians and divines, governesses
for the royal daughters, tutors for his sons, down to
ordinary teachers of a common school, and " two plough-
men and their ploughs and families." They went into
a land where the whole tone of society was utterly de-
moralized, and vice in no degree disgraceful ; and though
he inquired most cautiously, scrutinized most closely, and
chose at last the best who offered, numbers of these
could not stand the trial. The professors quarrelled with
each other; some by open vices disgraced the cause they
were designed to further ; some were carried off by dis-
soluteness and disease ; whilst the few who laboured
faithfully found their hands weakened in their single
striving against the multitude of evil-doers, and added
often, by their desponding letters, to the common burden

212

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1818.

of this most oppressive correspondence. Still he went
on with his labours cheerfully and never fainted in them,
so long as the opportunity of service lasted.

When his family party had broken up at Rydale, he
had been compelled to travel in a different direction from
the rest ; and on the 24th of October he wrote to Mrs.
Wilberforce from Cambridge — " I thank God I am
arrived at this place in safety, making up near 350 miles
which I have travelled, full 100 of them at night, with-
out a single accident. How grateful ought I to be for
this protecting providence of a gracious God ! And I
just now recollect in a most natural connexion, that to-
morrow, the 25th of October, is the anniversary of the
day on which I experienced that notable escape from
being drowned in the Avon, when we lodged at Bath
Easton. Praise the Lord, O my soul. I forget the
year ; do tell it me if you remember, by a mother's
calendar."

" Sunday. Lest I should not be able to write in the
evening, I take up my pen now, (three-quarters past two)
though I shall to-day write but little, having had very
little time to myself this morning before church. My
heart would be very sad, but for the blessed prospects
that are opened to the eye of faith — even the faith of an
unworthy sinner. I hope it will be the effect of these
earthly sufferings to wean me from this world, and fix
my affections and desires more on that better state,
where sorrow and sighing will have fled away. How-
ever I will not open any chapter of grievances this day,
and I am ready to burn what I have written, on account
of its being in any other strain than that of thankfulness.
Oh wThat cause for gratitude have I : no man surely so
great, at least very few ! My spirits are not in them-
selves so cheerful as they used to be, but it is one of my
many mercies that they are so good as they are. I sup-'
pose the mental sky of every one has its 1 dim passing
cloud that just tempers the ray.' Stephen comes here
to-day. Dear fellow; his kindness, like that of the dean,
is as lively as if it were ever so short an effort, and as
persevering as if it were ever so parsimoniously exerted.

1818.

GREAT HUMILITY.

213

No man could ever have more cause for thankfulness to
the Giver of all good for the many kind friends He has
vouchsafed me. Farewell. Commending you to the best
blessings of God,

I am ever yours,

VV. WlLBERFORCE."

On the 24th of December he was again at Kensington,
surrounded by his family ; and the new year opens with
some striking resolutions of devoted service, in his usual
tone of deep humility. " It is with a heavy heart that I
look forwrard to the meeting ; so many friends absent,
and so many objects of pursuit, and I so unequal to them ;
yet had I duly used my powers I could do much. O
Lord, do Thou quicken and guide me. I have resolved
to dine out scarcely at all during this season."

"Jan. 15th. What is it to have our views spiritual
when w7e are in our closets, unless we also retain and
carry about with us the sense of invisible things, and the
desire to please our unseen, but present Saviour, looking
up to Him for grace and strength ! O Lord, enable me
thus to live, and may I practise self-examination more
constantly, that I may watch myself in this important
particular."

His daily occupations differed so little from those of
the preceding spring, that the copious transcripts of his
Diary at that time will render needless any but a few of
the most interesting extracts of the present season. Some
of these throw a strong light upon his character. " I thank
you for your truly friendly conduct," is his answer to a
friend who had transmitted to him the censures of another
on his conduct, " and I beg you to join my dear and ex-
cellent brother-in-law in helping me to correct my own
infirmities; as you have so often kindly borne with them.
For this end the first step will always be to tell me of
my faults, and I trust I can truly say I shall love you the
better for so doing, and even if I do not think you right
I shall be sure that your motive was friendly. You must
also flap me and rouse and aid my decaying memory.
Poor dear Babington ! I miss him often in this way." -

214

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1819.

These were not idle words. In presenting on the 9th
of February a petition from the Quakers against the se-
vere enactments of our penal code, he expressed his
deep regret for the loss of that great man who had made
this subject his especial study. This warm and feeling
language drew on him a remonstrance for having termed
Sir Samuel Romilly " a great and good man." " Had a
truly honest and Christian-like letter from Mr. Poynder,"
is the humble entry of his Diary, " to which I replied I
trust in the same strain, on my eulogium on Sir Samuel
Romilly. Perhaps I went too far, though the newspaper
made me say more than I did. But, alas, I well know
how often I am led into saying what I never meant !
How can I but add the above," he continues, " when I
am fresh from the House of Commons, where most un-
accountably, except from my not having at all meditated
before-hand what I should say, I am told, and I fear
justly, notwithstanding some opposite assurances, that I
was extremely harsh against Castlereagh. How strange
this ! I really have a personal regard for him, have
always wished, and do now wish him well, and did not in
the least mean to be severe, especially against him. He
had no interest in preventing the inquiry. However,
may God forgive me, and enable me to act in a way
more agreeable to my Christian character of peace, and
love, and meekness. 1 am truly and deeply hurt by the
consciousness, though quite relieved by a few friendly
words which passed between Castlereagh and me in
going out of the House."

From the prominent part always allotted him at the an-
niversary of Religious societies he greatly shrunk. No
man ever attended them with a simpler or more fervent
spirit, or entered therefore with more feeling into all their
true excellence. " There really is in such a scene," he
writes to a friend, " a moral sublimity, which, if dulv esti-
mated, would be worthy of the tongues of angels': and
indeed, I doubt not, they who are declared by our blessed
Lord to sympathize with the poorest, repenting, earthly
sinner, do participate in the joy and thankfulness which
are called forth in our Christian assemblies, in hearing of

1819.

PUBLIC MEETINGS.

215

the general diffusion of the word of God, and of the la-
bours, and sufferings, and blessed be God the triumphs
also, of those zealous missionaries who are devoting their
lives in distant lands to the service of their Divine Mas-
ter."

Never perhaps was his eloquence more winning than
when on these subjects it flowed fresh from his full heart
—and many a stranger to the ordinary excitements of
the town returned at the week's end into the country
nerved by it afresh for his path of solitary labour. " I
shall never forget," says one who thus heard him, 44 the
effect of a short speech of his upon my own mind. He
was alluding to some natural difficulties which had im-
peded the success of missions, which ought not to dis-
courage us ; for nature seemed often, as well as man, to
fight against St. Paul. He was not merely 4 scourged
with rods/ but 4 thrice suffered shipwreck.' The tone,
the manner, the voice in which he brought out this sim-
ple thought was so overpowering, that I went home with
it ringing in my ears for days."

The bustling week began upon the 3d of May, with
44 Breakfasted Dr. Hamilton (Irish) Owen, Mons. Kieffer
from Paris, Mons. De Solles, (stating the friendly dis-
position of the present French government to our Bible
Society,) and to Methodist Mission Society, where a
full meeting — afterwards Church Missionary House —
eat cold meat — and House — Catholic Question.

44 4th. Church Missionary anniversary. Dear Lord
Gambier in the chair, and closed with a hynm after
opening with a prayer. I spoke warmly, and so pretty
well. Mr. Matthias from Dublin very good. Delightful
meeting. Lodgings and writing, when I recollected
Lottery Resolutions. Hurried down to the House, and
found Van concluding his defence of Lotteries against
Lyttleton, who I heard had spoken long and abiy. I
drawing up Canning, the debate became lively and
warm. Poor Canning — how grievious it is to hear him
so unjust to his own real kindness of heart, as to attempt
to turn into ridicule the story of distress told by Buxton
with great effect !

216

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1819.

"5th. Several breakfasters. Bible Society anniver-
sary. Charles Shore spoke with fascinating tenderness.
I was called on suddenly, but D. G. did pretty well-
Then cold meat— and Downing Street. Then House.

"11th. Naval and Military Bible meeting. House.
Lord Camden's generous gift to the public, and Tierney
acknowledged it very handsomely. It is a sad proof of
the low moral tone of the world, that people in general
say, ' More fool he.' Then Bill for protecting the New
Zealanders and Otaheitans."

" 15th. British and Foreign School Society. Duke of
Kent in the chair. Oh how glad I am that the tenth
meeting is this day over ! The consumption of time is
really too great." " Would it had been my favoured
lot," writes Hannah More, " to hear one of twelve
speeches in ten days." The wonder is, how with his
feeble health he stood such constant fatigue. A house
crowded with " inmates" . . their number swelled every
morning by a tide of " breakfasters" . . then a throng of
" callers" — a crowded meeting at which he made often
a long, always an animated speech — then a budget of
letters to be read and answered — his only rest or food a
" canistered" dinner ; and then House, where he sat long,
and sometimes spoke again, not getting home till " all
were gone to bed." It is not a little striking, to turn to
some of his letters to his children, written in the midst of
such a life as this, often at hurried intervals when wait-
ing for an audience at an office, or some such scrap of
time; (" for I always take the raw material with me to
such places, and work it up into the manufactured article
as opportunity permits ;") but showing even in their fair
and legible characters how much he consulted the feel-
ings of those to whom he wrote. A sample or two of
this correspondence, maintained once a week at least
with each of his absent children, will best show his tone
of mind.

" My dear ,*

I stop at a friend's house in London solely to write to

Aged 13.

1819.

LETTERS TO CHILDREN".

217

you a few lines; sincerely concerned at my having been
so engrossed by a host of callers, as not to secure a single
quarter of an hour secure from interruption to converse
by pen and ink with my very dear absent child. Yet as
when you were a little boy I used to delight in taking a
passing kiss of you, so now7 it is quite gratifying to ex-
change a salutation with you on paper, though but for a
minute or two. The sight of my hand-writing will call

forth in my dear affectionate all those images of

parental and family tenderness, with which the Almighty
permits us to be refreshed, when children and parents
are far separated from each other. You have a heaven-
ly Father too, my dearest boy, who loves you dearly,
and who has promised He will never leave you nor for-
sake you, if you will but devote yourself to His service
in His appointed way. O my dearest boy, pray in
earnest; guard against formality in prayer. Endeavour
to place yourself as it were in the presence of God
when you call upon Him. Again and again, may God
bless and preserve you, and grant you His Holy Spirit,
and a disposition to deny yourself. But 1 must break
off ; somebody has been talking to me almost all the time
I have been writing, so if there are mistakes excuse
them ; and believe me ever,

Yours most affectionately,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

TO THE SAME.

" My dearest ,

The last letter from home communicated to you the
death of one young friend, my present letter will convey
the account of an event still less to be expected ; that of
the death of poor B. Poor young man, he sadly disap-
pointed all his real friends, not only by failing in his
studies, but also I fear by a licentious course of conduct.
Suddenly he was thrown on a bed of sickness. Merci-
fully God gave him some days for repentance, and we
are not without hope he may have found mercy, for he
was very penitent. But, alas! dependence on a death-

VOL. II. 19

218

LTFE OF WILBRFORCE.

1819.

bed repentance, is a sad dependence indeed ! O my
dear boy, may you remember your Creator in the days
of your youth ; then whether you live or die, all will be

well. Farewell, my very dear , I am sadly hurried,

but I would not omit writing to you to-day.

I am ever your affectionate father,

W. WlLBER FORCE."

TO THE SAME.

" My dearest ,

1 have not either time or eye-sight to-day sufficient to
send you what from its size, may deserve the name of a
letter ; but a letterling it may be called, and you know
the old passage, Inest sua gratia parvis — a maxim which,
from my not being myself of extravagantly large dimen-
sions, I may be supposed to consider a very reasonable
proposition. I am glad to find (and it is quite a drop of
balm in my heart when I hear of my dear boy's going
on well) that you are setting to work doggedly, as Dr.
Johnson used to term it; but I like neither the word nor
the idea. I hope my dear boy will act from a higher
principle than one which I have seen in a poor animal in
a team, when the taste of the wagoner's whip has made
him resolutely set all his muscular force in action, and
pull up a steep as if determined to master it. But my
dearest will be prompted by a nobler set of mo-
tives ; by a desire of pleasing God and showing his grati-
tude to his Saviour, and not grieving the Holy Spirit ;
of giving pleasure to a father and mother who are
watching over his progress with tender solicitude. I have
been looking over some old papers till my heart is not a
little affected. How year passes away after year, and
first one person is snatched away and then another!
Little did I expect I should outlive so many much more
robust, and many of them younger than myself. But to
persons of your age as well as mine, the lesson is read,
' Be thou also ready.' And then, my dearest boy, we
shall never part, if we have made our calling and elec-
tion sure ; we shall never again be in the storm, but re-

1819.

VISIT TO WYE.

219

main for ever in the enjoyment of the pleasures which
are at God's right hand for evermore. I remembered
that you would receive this on a Sunday, and therefore
permitted myself to fall into a serious strain. Indeed I
am always tempted to sing in this key when I am ad-
dressing one of my absent children, because loving them
so dearly I am naturally drawn into the discussion of
those topics in which their best interests are concerned.

Above all things, my dear , attend to your private

devotions. Beware of wandering thoughts. If you do
but pray in earnest, I am sure all will be well. May

God bless and preserve you. Poor has suffered

grievously from the bite of a gnat: her arm from the
shoulder to the finger has been greatly inflamed, but D.
G. she is now getting better. I remember Dr. Clarke
says, the Russian soldiers often die from the bites of
gnats in the country bordering on the Crimea ; and yet
it used to be said, that ' You flay a Muscovite to make

him feel.' God bless you, my dearest .

Ever your affectionate father,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

CHAPTER X.

Death of Miss Martha More — Disturbances among the lower orders-
Death of Dean Milner — Queen's case.

He closed the labours of the session by moving on the
7th an address to the Regent on the suppression of the
Slave Trade, by which he hoped to quicken the exertions
of our government, and produce some effect on France.

During the recess of parliament he made an excur-
sion with his family to the West of England, and the
Valley of the Wye. His letters prove him to have re-
tained all his enthusiastic love for the beautiful scenery
and delightful associations into which he was introduced';

220

LIFE OF W1LBERF0RCE.

1819.

yet even here he did not neglect the subjects so dear to
his heart. "I understand that the C.'s have resolved to
go to Hayti, and I own I am glad of it. It absolves me
from all responsibility, while it obtains for Hayti the ser-
vices of people, who I hope may be useful, though 1 dare
not in conscience rely on the morality of persons in
whom I have no reason to believe there is a deep principle
of religion, when they are going into a country where vice
is not discreditable. But, my dear Stephen, I cannot
tell you how deeply I feel the not having taken more
pains to promote the religious and moral improvement
of that interesting people. In this instance, as, alas, in
so many others, I find myself at once comforted by the
blessed assurances of pardon from God, wTho delighteth
in mercy through the atonement and intercession of our
great Mediator and Advocate, while I am at the same
time supplied with the most powerful of all motives,
gratitude and generous shame, to exert myself with aug-
mented earnestness for the time to come. I wish be-
yond measure you could help me in getting some school-
mistresses, and also some missionaries, though the latter
must be men of uncommon prudence and moderation.

" We stay here D. V. till Monday se'nnight, and then
I believe shall fix for a week or so at Malvern. O how
I wish I could yet do any good before I am called
away ! Of the uncertainty of life we have just now had a
fresh instance in the death of Mrs. Patty More. Never
was there a more generous, benevolent creature, more
self-denying to herself, or kind to others; and her natural
tempers, blessed be God, were sanctified by just views
of religion, or rather by that Divine Spirit which pro-
duced and confirmed them." "Patty sat up with me,"
he says in his Diary, " till near twelve, talking over
Hannah's first introduction to a London life, and I, not
she, broke ofF the conference; I never saw her more
animated. About eight in the morning when I came out
of my bed-room I found Hannah at the door — ' Have
you not heard Patty is dying? They called me to
her in great alarm,' at which from the ghastliness of her
appearance I could not wonder. About two or three

1819.

DEATH OF PATTY MORE.

221

hours after our parting for the night, she had been taken
ill." She lingered for about a week.

His various wanderings are pleasantly retraced in a
letter to another friend. " My summer, which began
late, has been spent almost entirely with various friends;
— the Noels, at my old haunt at Barham Court, near to
which you once endured the labours, if not the dangers
of war (on Cox Heath;) — my valuable old friend, Mrs.
Hannah More, whom we the rather visited, because we
deemed it but too probable that if we should not see her
this summer we might never see her alive in another;
and such is the uncertainty of life, that we witnessed the
death-bed, and nearly the actual departure of her younger
and stronger sister — then we spent a few days at the ro-
mantic and beautiful seat, Blaize Castle, of my friend
Mr. Harford ; and afterwards a fortnight with the Bish-
op of Gloucester, whom I heartily wish you could hear
and see, both in his public ministrations and in his private
life; he is really what a bishop should be — for humility,
industry, zeal with sobriety, hospitality, and above all
for love in all its kinds and directions, he is really a
bright specimen; and the veneration and affection that
are felt for him by all who know him, even by those who
do not entirely concur with him in religious principles,
are seen beaming from every countenance, and spark-
ling in every eye. He practically remembers the motto
of old Archbishop Usher's seal ring — Vae mihi si non
evangelizavero. On the week-days he visits different
country parishes, whence the income of his deanery is
derived, and collects round him as crowded congrega-
tions as are usually found in a well-frequented church.
Then we were seduced into spending near a fortnight at
Malvern, having visited it with the intention of merely a
twenty-four hours' cursory survey. For the recovery
of an invalid, or for the means of enabling an old man
to toddle up the mountains (not quite Himalayans) with-
out fatigue or even effort, it is by far the first of all
English elysiums. Then we spent a little time with
Mrs. W.'s widowed mother, whence I paid a second
short visit to a sweet lady friend to meet, by his and her

19*

222

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1819.

urgent desire, the Duke of Gloucester for a few days en
ami, (must I not be an inch or two -taller for the distinc-
tion ?")

All his letters were now tinged by one subject. Much
popular disturbance had occurred in the manufacturing
districts. " Let me beg you," he asks a friend at Shef-
field, " when you write to give me all the information
you can concerning the state of mind of your lower or-
ders, and particularly whether the religious part of your
community has in these trying times been acting worthy
of its high calling. I declare my greatest cause of dif-
ference with the democrats, is their laying, and causing
the people to lay, so great a stress on the concerns of this
world, as to occupy their whole minds and hearts, and
to leave a few scanty and lukewarm thoughts for the
heavenly treasure. # * It really provokes me
to a degree of indignation greater I fear than Christianity
warrants, to look forward to what may happen to this
highly favoured country from our internal divisions.
Party, party is our bane. I feel 1 think much as Lord
Falkland did when he used to stalk about his tent and
exclaim, Peace, Peace."

The worst feature of the disaffected was their zeal
against the Christian faith. " What your lordship and I
saw," he reminds Lord Milton, " amongst the papers of
the Secret Committee, gave me but too mdch reason to
fear that the enemies of our political constitution were
also enemies to our religion." " Heretofore they inveigh-
ed against the inequality of property, and used every ar-
tifice to alienate the people from the constitution of their
country. But now they are sapping the foundations of
the social edifice more effectually by attacking Christi-
anity. The high and noble may be restrained by honour;
but religion only is the law of the multitude."

In this spirit he entered the House on the first day of
the session; and then, on the 26th, when he " spoke with
effect though without premeditation, " he maintained for-
cibly the cause of order. He arraigned the irreligious
spirit of this new morality, proved that the bar of the
House of Commons was the most improper place for an

1819.

EFFORTS TO PROMOTE PUBLIC PEACE.

223

inquiry into the behaviour of the magistrates, and turning
upon those who showed some inclination to reap a fac-
tious triumph from the sufferings of their country — " Can
there be one man here," he asked, " who does not from
his heart lament these transactions ? If there be, it must
be one who has learned to look to civil war and slaugh-
ter for the regeneration of the country, and to regard the
overthrow of our religion and our laws as the means of
accomplishing their end."

Throughout the stormy session which succeeded, his
language was the same. He esteemed "the situation of
the country very critical, and though" he " had no small
reason to complain of some members of administration,"
he " thought it" his " duty to come forward in support of
the several measures which were proposed for the pre-
servation of the public peace."

" We are in a state of almost combustion," he com-
plains amidst nightly contentions, " which does not suit
me as well as it did thirty years ago —

* Calidus juventk

Consule Planco.' "

In the hot fit

Of youth and Pitt.

Yet his own mind was quiet in the storm. The next
day's Diary affords a glimpse of those deep waters
which no political tempests could disturb. " Walked
from Hyde Park corner, repeating the 119th Pslam, in
great comfort." His learning this whole pslam by heart
in all his London bustle, is a striking instance of the care
with which he studied the Holy Scripture; and in spite
of his complaints, his memory could not have been ma-
terially injured, since he could (even with the help of a
technical artifice which he now frequently employed)
acquire and retain perfectly this long and unconnected
passage. To return to the Diary.

"Dec. 14th. Not a minute alone to-day. Money
with me during dressing. Then Mr. Scott about the
wool tax. Then African institution — Duke of Glouces-

224

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1820.

ter there, and Lord Lansdown. Then House — Lord
John Russell's motion. He spoke pleasingly — Lord
Normanby seconded with more talent, though Romeo-
like. Alas! I get no time to myself. To-night Arms
Seizing Bill ; doubtful what course to pursue, as to
whether one or two justices, and by night as well as
day; decided for former, on ground of publicity, and the
clause requiring time being given, and that in 1812 the
same power was given and no abuse followed. O Lord,
enable me to decide aright. Blessed be God, I serve a
Master who takes the will for the deed."

" Several press me strongly to bring forward a com-
mittee to inquire into and relieve the distresses of the
lower orders. I am much puzzled about it. Sir W. De
Crespigny's motion to refer Owen's plan to a committee.
I forced to speak against it on the Christian ground.

" 17th. Found Owen of Lanark truly placable and
good-humoured ; he said Vansittart and 1 right in voting
against him." He was no advocate for " a system of
morals or instruction not founded on religion." " They
would exclude," he complains of such instructors, " re-
ligion from life, and substitute knowledge in its stead."
" It is only by educating our people in Christian princi-
ples, that we can hope to advance in strength, greatness,
and happiness. By their efficacy alone can wre escape
the operation of those causes, which have assimilated
other states to the human frame in its infancy, manhood,
and decay. But the religion of those states was founded
on false principles. They went on from stage to stage
of intellectual improvement, emerging from ignorance to
knowledge, till the light of day beamed upon the fabric,
and betrayed the rotten imposition uport which it was
built. The pillar of our greatness is raised upon that
basis of all intellectual and moral improvement, the
Christian religion."

The year 1820 opened with an unexpected calm. The
restrictive Acts of the preceding session, and the clearing
of the commercial gloom, quieted the angry spirit of that
stormy period. A busy session seemed to be at hand ;
when the unexpected death of George III. suspended

1820.

PARENTAL AFFECTION".

225

public business, and dissolved the parliament. Mr. Wil-
berforce's spring passed in its usual employments,
maiked only by two domestic features; the marriage of
his eldest son, and the lingering and fatal illness of his
early friend, Dean Milner, of Carlisle. He came to Ken-
sington Gore, to attend as usual, on the Board of Longi-
tude; and after five weeks of suffering illness, breathed
his last upon the 1st of April.

Many were the hours he gave to soothing the sick-bed
of his friend. Though his life had been spent so much in
public, he was no stranger to such scenes; and never
was the genuine tenderness which filled his heart more
beautifully shown than in these unwitnessed charities.
More than one touching instance may be quoted from
the private memoranda of a friend, who was at this time
a frequent inmate in his family. At the close of one of
his days of hurry, perhaps after the stormy contests of
the House of Commons, "between twelve and one o'clock
he heard that hi is daughter, who was ill, could get no
sleep. Coming into her room, he took her hand, and,
kneeling down by the bed, spoke of the tender shepherd
carrying the weak and lame in his bosom to warm and
cherish them. Then he applied this to our blessed Sa-
viour; spoke of His tenderness and love; how He would
feel for His dear suffering child, and conduct her all the
way she had to go, until He took her from this scene of
trial and sorrow to a world where sorrow and sighing
shall flee away — 'a beautiful personification, indicating
their haste to leave the mansions of the blessed.' In this
spirit he prayed with her, and never left the bed until her
spirit was visibly soothed and supported."

One other extract shall be given. On the 24th of May
he " wrent down to Paul's Cray, honest Simons's, where a
great party at his school-fete. Gerard Noel gave us a
beautiful sermon. Lord and Lady Jocelyn, Charles Noel,
Lady E. Whitbread, and various friends." He was all
sunshine at such times, from principle as well as habit.
"It is a fault to be silent; every one is bound to present
his contribution to the common stock of conversation
and enjoyment;" and wherever the group was the most

226

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1820.

crowded and attentive, he was sure to be found its cen-
tre. From all this he stole away, and " asked me" (to
quote from the same memoranda) " to walk with him
down the village. It was to visit a poor woman, of
whom he had heard as in a deep decline. He found out
the sick-room, and sat down by the bed, and began to
speak to her of the love of God, which should dwell in
his children's hearts. 1 Ask yourself then, do you love
him. We know how love to our fellow-creatures acts;
how it makes us try to please them, bear for their sakes
unpleasant or unkind things, pain or hard words with
patience. Now does your love to God act in this way 1
Do you bear patiently what he sends you, because he
sends it? It is no proof of love to God to do what
pleases us, to come for instance, as I have done to-day,
to see all those dear children in the society of friends I
love. But if you submit to your illness, and give up
your will to God's will ; if you seek to listen to His voice
in this affliction, if you are patient under your sufferings,
and gentle to those about you, this will indeed be a proof
of love to God. And then think of the happy conse-
quence. He will come and abide with you, and bring
such peace and joy into your hearts as none else can be-
stow. The Comforter will come and dwell with you ; not
pay you a short visit as I am now paying to my friends
here, but dwell with you, and never leave you. Now
this is the joy I wish for you.' And then he knelt down,
and asked of God to comfort and support her, and after
all her sufferings bring her to a world of peace and joy,
where the former things shall have passed away. 'It is
delightful to me,' he said as we returned, 4 to visit such a
bed of sickness, to be able to take one ray of joy from
the full sunshine of the social circle, to gild her sick-
room. It has been one of the happiest days I ever
spent.' "

M Went," he says, on the 26th of April, " to Freema-
sons' Tavern Committee-room, and afierwards to the
Hall on the Duke of Kent's Statue proposal. I seconded
the first resolution — kept there latish. I am much pressed
to attend the London Missionary Society, but I cannot

1820.

SELF-ABASEMENT.

227

do it. Last year I was at eight or nine of these public
meetings in as many days, but I must not this year."
He attended four or five, and was the charm of each one
where he took a part, doing, according to his own ac-
count, " pretty well, and every body very kind to me.''
"But oh how humbled am I to find still in myself solici-
tude about human estimation! Yet I strive against it,
and despise myself for it. O Lord, help me." No one
perhaps was ever freer from this fault; but his rigid
scrutiny detected in himself the smallest rising of the
tempers he condemned. " I should like you," Mr. Ste-
phen said to him when he was once depreciating him-
self,* to write a life of yourself, and I would write
another; and it would be curious to see the different ren-
derings which would be given to the self-same facts."
"To one of these meetings" says the friend, whose
memoranda have before been quoted, "I went with him,
and arrived before the room began to fill. He walked
round, looking at the portraits which hung around the
wTalls, and his spirits seemed unusually depressed ; after
a time, he burst forth into expressions of his grief and
self-abasement, at his remembrance of some scenes of
revelling, in which, though never given to excess, he had
joined in early life within that very room — 4 To what a
different use, thank God, are we now about to put it !' "
Nothing can surpass the depth of his habitual humility,
" Alas," he exclaims, "how unprofitable a servant I am,
if I compare myself with M. ! How unspeakably am I
humbled ! In every particular he excels and in every
one I fall short: natural powers make some difference,
but the want of Christian exertion makes ten times more.
Oh God forgive me. I find my body as well as mind
indicating weakness, soon tired, and requiring rest.
Alas! that I have not better used my faculties! God be
merciful to me a sinner. Oh what cause have I to say

* The occasion is too good to be omitted. " I was so small of stature
when a youth," was his account, " that Milner put me on a table to read
to the boys." Mr. Stephen interrupted him, "Why, Wilberforce, Milner
himself ha9 told me that it was that your elocution might be a model to
the school."

228

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1820.

this! O they do not know us as we know ourselves.
Lord help me. 1 should despair but for the precious
promises of Holy Scripture. Yet in spite of this lowly
estimate of both his powers and services, no slight la-
bours were at this very moment before him.

The arrival of the Queen introduced a new and fear-
ful excitement amidst the subsiding waves of civil strife.

His part was at once taken. Though he expressed his
fears that " she had been very profligate," he " resolved
if possible to prevent the (parliamentary) inquiry, an ob-
ject which could only be accomplished by such an ami-
cable adjustment as should give to neither party cause
for triumph. When therefore Lord Castlereagh had
made a motion to refer the papers to the consideration
of a secret committee, I endeavoured to interpose a
pause during which the two parties might have an op-
portunity of contemplating coolly the prospect before
them. What followed is before the world — the corres-
pondence and subsequently the conferences which took
place between the King's servants and the Queen's law-
officers. The concessions made by the King's servants,
as Mr. Brougham afterwards declared in the House of
Commons, were many and great. The name and rights
of a Queen were granted to her majesty without re-
serve, any recognition of w7hich had formerly been care-
fully avoided. A Royal Yacht, a frigate, &c. were of-
fered. It was agreed that her name and rank should be
notified at the court either of Rome or Milan, the capitals
of the countries in which she had expressed her intention
to reside : and that an address should be presented to the
Queen, no less than another to the King, to thank her
majesty for having acceded to the wish of the House of
Commons.* During the anxious interval which followed
he was far from idle. He sent his son with an earnest
letter to the King, in which he entreated him to restore
the Queen's name to the Liturgy, " suggesting the ferment
w7hich would be occasioned ; that the country would be
in a fury, and perhaps the soldiers might take the Queen's
part." The course he pursued in these trying circum-

Memorand. among papers.

1820.

EFFORTS TO RECONCILE KING AND QUEEN.

229

stances, he well knew, exposed him to extreme odium
and misconstruction. But in the " hope of averting a
great evil" he laboured unceasingly to mediate between
the parties. He was one of the committee of the
House which presented an address to her majesty,
who " decidedly rejected our mediation." This failure
drew on him all the abuse he had expected. He was
charged with trifling with the House of Commons and
attempting to deceive the people. The calmness with
which he met this contumely and the secret of his great
confidence is shown by the following letter to his family,
who were absent at the sea-side. * I am often prompted
by the injustice and unfairness of men to look upward,
and to say to myself, well, the time will come when He
will make thy righteousness as clear as the light, and
thy just dealing as the noon-day. I got the nineteen
Sunday newspapers, once for all, the other day, that I
might the better judge of their contents: and assuredly
such a collection of ribaldry and profaneness never be-
fore disgraced my library, and I trust never will again.
Of course many of the writers honour me with a peculiar
share of attention. But this will soon blow over, and by
and by all the well disposed part of the community will
do me justice, and above all, the Lard will 'protect This
is as fine a summer's day as I ever knew, and I have
been quite delighting in the garden. What a pity it is
that you all do not enjoy it more ! I never saw the weep-
ing willow so fine as it is this year. I wish I could
transplant myself to you and my dear children who oc-
cupy their place in the group that my fancy draws of
you all upon the sands. Ask the boys if it be a good
place for crabbing."

" I ought to be thankful," he tells Mrs. Wilberforce,
" that I have lately felt a comfortable consciousness that
I am in the hands of God. The 71st Psalm, which I
learned by heart lately, has been a real comfort to me.
Cobbett has been publishing a very clever letter to me,
full, as you may suppose, of falsehood and mischief.
Well ! remember good old Luther, in worse times, when
assailed by enemies who could burn as well as write."

vol. ii. 20

230

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1820.

He reasons on this passing odium as calmly as if it
had attacked some one else. " I am doubtful about
moving an Address on the Slave Trade. I greatly doubt
the wisdom of bringing on these questions now, because
the public mind is engrossed with the Queen's business,
and because I am unpopular out of doors, though not in
the House. What a lesson it is to a man not to set his
heart on low popularity, when after forty years' disinte-
rested public service I am believed to be a perfect rascal !
Oh what a comfort it is to have to fly for refuge to a
God of unchangeable truth and love I"

During a prolonged separation from his family, who
were at the sea-side, " I think," he writes to them, " it is
good for the mind to feel a little solitary. It more im-
presses on me the true character of life, which has been
to me too uniformly comfortable. Indeed I can say,
* My cup runneth over.' What a beautiful expression !
— the passage struck me yesterday, when meditating
over the 23d Psalm in the garden."

On the 25th of July, the House of Commons adjourned
for a month ; and on the 28th he was preparing for his
summer's flight. His route to Weymouth took him to
the house of an early friend, whose guest he had not been
for many years. 44 So here is William Wilberforce going
to visit Henry Bankes," his companion overheard him
murmur to himself as he drove up to Kingston Hall, 44 and
they are the only two of the old set of whom so much
can be said."

His residence at Weymouth was soon interrupted by
the threatening aspect of affairs. 44 The accounts from
London are most alarming." In this crisis his inter-
ference was requested by men of various parties. Lord
John Russell led the way by a letter in the Times of
August 5th, 44 which can hardly fail," says the editor,
44 to propitiate Mr. Wilberforce, so beneficent is the
office which it assigns to him ; so flattering, and we will
add so just, the tribute both to his virtues and his power."

This step he thought most ill-advised from reasons
which he thus imparts to Mr. Buxton. 44 You must ere
now have seen Lord John Russell's curious publication.

1620.

DIFFICULTIES WITH THE QUEEN.

231

I own I am concerned to see the letter, because it sadly
obstructs the course of proceeding I had before medi-
tated. It would have been very different if he had in
private communicated to me his ideas."

" I do not quite despair of getting the business put off,"
he tells Mr. Stephen, "though it must be said, that Lord
John's letter is a sad obstacle in the way, and one which
may perhaps be insuperable." . . " My project was to
urge the King to go to the House of Lords, and declare
he gives up his own wishes to the gratifying of his peo-
ple." . . " But how could he hope that I should prevail on
the King to accept my mediation, as that of a neutral
man, when publicly called upon to come forward by one
of the strongest partisans of the opposition ?"

44 1 am divided between the fear on the one hand of
neglecting some measure, which by the blessing of God
might be the means of arresting our progress into that
abyss to which we seem gradually but too surely ad-
vancing, and on the other of appearing conceitedly to
think of myself more highly than I ought to think, and
of thereby injuring the interests of religion. My situa-
tion would be very painful if religious principles I hope
in part, but still more natural temper and habit, had not
lessened the sensibility of my feelings on all terrestrial
things. Yet to be told before all the world, that on me
and my conduct depends the fate of the empire, is enough
to make a man anxious."

The day before this letter reached him, he had 44 de-
cided that it may be well to be on the spot when the
Queen's business is going to begin, that if any opening
should present itself, it may be embraced. 1 go up to try
if I can prevent the inquiry. Yet I feel deeply the evil,
that so bad a woman as I fear she is should carry the
victory by sheer impudence, (if she is guilty,) and assume
the part of a person deeply injured. Oh the corrupted
currents of this world ! Oh for that better world, where
there shall be no shuffling."

44 Pray for me," he writes back from London to his
family, 44 that I may be enlightened and strengthened
for the duties of this important and critical season.
Hitherto God has wonderfully supported and blessed

232

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1820.

me ; oh how much beyond my deserts ! It will be a com-
fort to me to know that you all who are, as it were, on
the top of the mountain, withdrawn from and above the
storm, are thus interceding for me who am scuffling in
the vale below."

But matters were too far advanced for any beneficial
interference, and he returned after a time to Weymouth,
where he was still followed by pressing applications that
he should demand an audience of the King, or recom-
mend conciliation to the Queen. One ardent friend, with
more zeal than discretion, sent down a messenger " to
fetch me up express, and meet him at Salt Hill to have
an audience of the King. I positively refused. He had
summoned S. and Lord H. from Hastings, who both
came; he himself went to the cottage and conferred
with General Thornton, and sent in to the King that he
expected me. The King sent a very proper answer:
That if he had conferred with me, it must be on some
political business, and that he never talked on political
subjects with any but his ministers."

Seeing therefore no present opening for usefulness, he
remained with his family at Weymouth and at Bath,
watching from a distance the advancing trial.

Here a new blow distressed him greatly. On the 9th
of December he heard from unquestionable information
of the sudden death of Christophe ; and with Christophe
he well knew all the plans for the improvement of the
Haytians, which had cost him so much time and labour,
must fall to the ground. " I cannot mention Hayti," he
says a few days later, " without interposing a word or
two concerning this same tyrant, as now that he is
fallen it seems to be the fashion to call Christophe. If he
did deserve that name it is then compatible with the
warmest desire in a sovereign for the improvement and
happiness of his people; and I must also add that all the
authentic accounts I ever heard of him have led me to
believe that he was really a great man, with but few in-
firmities. Nevertheless I am not much surprised at what
has taken place, for I must confess that the yoke of go-
vernment might probably press heavily upon his people,
and that he might carry on his whole system, both in

1820.

DEATH OF CHR1STOPHE.

233

introducing improvements and in reforming morals,
with too much rigour. Again, the military discipline
which he enforced, and the great army which he main-
tained, were necessary to resist the expected invasion
from France ; and I fear that all kings are apt to be too
fond of arms and reviews — of course except the King of
Great Britain."

M I regret," he said at this time to a friend, " that I did
not more press Christian principles upon poor Christophe,
and instruct him in the knowledge of a Saviour ; yet I
was afraid of losing my influence with him by going too
far.* I sent him books, and said what I thought I could,
but I have been uneasy since; I know not that a day
has passed that I have not prayed for him. He has only
been charged, as far as I know, with two faults ; one, an
over-strict enforcement of justice; the other, his being
avaricious, and heaping together much money in his
capital. But this was for the purpose of buying gun-
powder from the x\mericans, in case France should
attack him. He sent me over £6000 to pay school-
masters, &c. ; and I remember his giving a man, whose
conduct he approved, 1000 dollars, quite spontaneously.
He was a great man, intent on the improvement of his
people, but he furnishes a striking instance of the truth,
that by too earnestly pursuing a good object you directly
defeat" it."

As the meeting of the House approached the political
horizon became darker. Mr. Wilberforce returned to
London with a heavy heart. M Pray for us," he said
when he left his family, who for his daughter's health
still stayed at Bath; "pray for us who are about to
attend parliament, and shall soon be in the heat of the
battle." " I wish I had any thing to call me away to-
morrow from the House of Commons. The question
before us is a most perplexing one : a choice of evils.
But how litttle these parliamentary affairs will interest
me when I look death in the face — except having kept a
clear conscience !"

* Vide Correspondence.
•JO-

234

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1820.

On the 26th he " found the question changed by the
motion of Lord A. Hamilton, from restoring the Queen's
name to the Liturgy, to blaming the leaving it out. Not
one in fifty but thought it wrong, and still more foolish,
to leave the name out, yet a large majority voted for the
previous question. That night I meant to vote for re-
storing her name, but was forced to go home by illness,
though had the division come on a few days before, I
should have voted against it, on the ground of the Queen's
outrageously contumacious conduct. It is almost rebel-
lious." This concession he thought due to the religious
feelings of the great bulk of the middle classes. He
found that not only the political Dissenters, but even the
Wesleyan Methodists prayed for the Queen by name,
and " would not allow that she was prayed for at all, in
the words, * for all the royal family.' " For himself, he
had never viewed the omission as involving any religious
question, sharing the sentiment expressed by Dr. Parr :
" In the words, ' all the royal family,' I include the
Queen." But to perpetuate the notion that it was de-
signed to deprive her of the benefit of the people's
prayers, was, he thought, so paramount an evil, that on
the 13th of February he supported Mr. John Smith's
motion for the restoration of her name.

" This exclusion," he maintained, " is a most unhappy
circumstance, because it has been the means of intro-
ducing a political feeling into the Church. Every reli-
gious man has hitherto consoled himself with the reflec-
tion, that there is at least one day in the week, when he
may forget all his low and vulgar cares, and dismiss
from his mind the animosities which disturb the course
of human life. On that day the elements of discord
ought to be at rest, and every recollection which creates
disunion or excites a jarring sentiment should be, if pos-
sible, avoided. But at present this unhappy subject is
brought under public notice every Sunday, and the
wound which might otherwise be healed is kept in a
state of constant irritation. Nothing can more tend than
such a state of things to bring into discredit an ecclesias-
tical system sealed with the blood of martyrs, and from

1820.

SUPPOTS RESTORATION OF QUEEN 's NAME.

235

which the Dissenters themselves have derived all the
advantages which they enjoy."

" It grieved me more than it ought," he wrote next
day, " to differ from many dear friends, but I really
could not in conscience forbear to support the motion."
" Yet there are those even whom I love, who, if they
will not look at me with altered countenance, will yet
feel real grief of heart ; and I perhaps, even to weakness,
feel full as much pain from the consciousness of grieving
them. But we must not suffer such considerations to
affect our conduct, or even to bias our judgment. Yet
it is one of the views in\vhich a better world often pre-
sents itself to my mind's eye, and cheers my heart by the
prospect, that then there will be no errors, no room for
misconstruction, but all will at once recognize the kind
intentions of others, and live in the clear and full light of
unclouded love and confidence. Oh how trivial will
then appear to have been many of those questions which
we now contest so warmly !"

CHAPTER XI.

Family Religion — Death of eldest Daughter — Retirement at Marden
Park — Death of Lord Londonderry — Letter to former Tutor — Efforts
for West India Emancipation.

His domestic character was truly remarkable. It was
not merely that the tenderness of his earliest affections
was unchilled by a bustling public life, but that there was
a careful thoughtfulness as to the effect of little things
upon his children's characters which seemed almost in-
compatible with his incessant occupations. This was
now more observable when his sons were growing into
manhood. For them he chose, as he had done for him-
self, (a far severer trial of his principles,) with no eye to

236

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1821.

personal ambition. His great wish was to see them
useful clergymen, and leaving to themselves entirely the
choice of their profession, he watched the little openings
of domestic life to give to their minds the bias he desired.

The result was what he wished. Of his four sons, who
came of a stock which for twenty-six recorded genera-
tions appears not to have produced one clergyman, he
lived to see two in Holy Orders, and a third preparing
for the ministry. His letters to them are full of the same
spirit.*

His state of health at this time gave many indications
that his parliamentary services must terminate ere long.
Several successive attacks of illness made it impossible
or dangerous for him to attend the House, and delayed
his intended inquiry into the West India system to an-
other year. " I scarcely dare tell you," he writes to
Mrs. Wilberforce, "that at one time, thinking I was not
likely to be able to speak before Easter, I was actually
meditating the cutting and running system without delay ;
when I recovered, so as to allow me the hope of doing
two or three important matters before my departure."

His secret thoughts on his recovery are full of grati-
tude to God. " What cause have I for thankfulness, that
even when ill I scarcely ever experience pain, or distress
of body or mind ! But then I learn, or rather I re-learn,
from this attack, two important practical truths: when I
become ever so little incapable of quiet continued reflec-
tion I can only gaze at known truths, and look up with
aspirations of humble thankfulness to the will of my un-
wearied and long-suffering Benefactor."

The Easter recess of this year was spent at Bath, after
which he resumed his constant attendance on the House,
not forgetting his African and West India clients, till
the time arrived for retiring into summer quarters. He
sold his house at Kensington, and determined upon set-
tling in the country, in compliance with the wishes of his
wife and daughter, and in the hope of giving his children
"country tastes and occupations, and they are virtuous

* Sec Correspondence.

1821.

RETIRES TO THE COUNTRY.

237

pleasures." He settled at Marden Park, in Surrey, and
says in a letter to L. Macaulay, Esq., " I am profiting I
trust from the quiet life I lead in this sweet place."

Never surely was family religion seen in more attrac-
tive colours, than in his house. " I only wish," said a
college friend who had been visiting tw7o of his sons,
" that those who abuse your father's principles could
come down here and see how he lives." It was a
goodly sight. The cheerful play of a most happy tem-
per, wrhich more than sixty years had only mellowed,
gladdened all his domestic intercourse. The family
meetings were enlivened by his conversation — gay, easy,
and natural, yet abounding in manifold instruction, drawn
from books, from life, and from reflection. Though his
step was less elastic than of old, he took his part in out-
of-door occupations; climbing the neighbouring downs
with the walking parties, pacing in the shade of the tall
trees, or gilding with the old man's smiles the innocent
cheerfulness of younger pastimes.

In the leisure of the country he meditated literary
works of an extensive kind, and hoped to realize the wish
of Mr. Babington, " that the evening of your days should
shed a mild lustre on your contemporaries and on pos-
terity, harmonizing with the great and important labours
of your earlier years." " My whole life of late has been
consumed by letters, and by other business which leaves
no trace behind. I must endeavour to redeem the time
for some useful wrork. Though the complaint in my
eyes has for some years prevented my acquiring know-
ledge, or even keeping up what I had acquired, yet I
hope that I might be able to compose both a religious
and a political work, which would not be without value.
May God bless to me this scene of quiet."

The execution of these plans was continually hindered
by his public occupations. The West India cause ex-
acted all his time. He was at once obliged to begin
writing " letters to two members of the American Con-
gress and to the emperor of Russia."

One heavy trial clouded all this summer. The health
of his eldest daughter gave him much uneasiness.

238

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1821.

As the year advanced her small remaining strength
was manifestly sinking, and on the 30th of December she
breathed her last at Mr. Stephen's house, whither she
had been removed some weeks before, for better medi-
cal attendance.

" I have been employed," he tells Mr. Wrangham, 44 for
a long period in attending the sick, and at length the
dying bed of a justly beloved grown-up daughter. But
the pain of our late trial has been abundantly mitigated
.by the assured persuasion that she is gone to a better
world. It would have been delightful even to those who
were not so personally interested in the scene as our-
selves, to have witnessed the composure with which, in
the prospect of speedy dissolution, our dear child, natu-
rally of a very timid spirit, was able to pray that her
parents might be supported under the privation they were
about to suffer. I shall never forget the tenderness, and
faith, and love, and devotion with which, having desired
ail others to withdraw, she poured forth her last audible
prayer for herself and us." 44 Sustained by a humble
hope of the mercies of God through her Redeemer and
Intercessor, she was enabled to bear her sufferings with
patience and resignation, and to preserve a composure
which even surprised herself. On the very morning of
the last day of her life she had desired a favourite fe-
male attendant to ask her physician, whether or not
there was any hope of her recovery, 4 but if not,' she
added, 4 all is well.' She expired at last like a person
falling asleep — scarcely a groan, and not the least strug-
gle. I am almost bound in gratitude to the Giver of all
good to call in my friends to rejoice with me over such
an instance of Divine goodness, and the consciousness
of our dear child's being safe is a cordial of inestimable
efficacy."

To Mr. Babington he opens still more freely all the
feelings of his heart in the review of this affecting scene.
44 There was none of that exultation and holy joy which are
sometimes manifested by dying Christians. But I know
not that my judgment does not rest with more solid con-
fidence on her humble composure and consciousness of

1821.

DEATH OF HIS DAUGHTER.

239

her own unworthiness, with an affectionate casting of
herself on her Redeemer and Intercessor. The day be-
fore she expired, she sent all out but her mother and me,
and concluded some declarations of her humble hope in
the mercies of God through Christ with a beautiful
prayer addressed to her Saviour. And she had re-
marked to her mother that she never had before under-
stood the meaning and value of Christ's intercession.
My dear friend, I must stop — you are a father."

On the day of his daughter's funeral he was kept at
home by the extreme coldness of the weather, and when
the band of mourners had set out he went into his soli-
tary chamber to commune with his God. " I went and
saw the coffin. How vain the plumes, &c. when the oc-
casion is considered, and the real state of humiliation to
which the body is reduced ! I must elsewhere note
down the mercies and loving-kindnesses of our God and
Saviour in this dispensation; above all, the exceeding
goodness of giving us grounds for an assured persuasion
that all is well with her; that she is gone to glory.
When I look back on my past life, and review it, com-
paring especially the numerous, almost innumerable, in-
stances of God's kindness to me with my unworthy
returns, I am overwhelmed, and can with truth adopt
the language of the Publican, God be merciful to me a
sinner. Every one knows, or may know, his own sins,
the criminality of which varies according to his oppor-
tunities of improvement, obligations and motives to obe-
dience, advantages and means of grace, favours and
loving-kindnesses, pardons and mercies. It is the ex-
ceeding goodness of God to me, and the almost un-
equalled advantages I have enjoyed, which so fill me
with humiliation and shame. My days appear few when
I look back, but they have been any thing but evil. My
blessings have been of every kind, and of long continu-
ance ; my being made the instrument of bringing for-
ward the x\bolition ; my helping powerfully the cause of
Christianity in India; my never having been discredited,
but being always supported on all public occasions.
There would be no end of the enumeration, were I to

240

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1821

put down all the mercies of God. My escape from
drowning by a sudden suggestion of Providence. My
never having been disgraced for refusing to fight a duel.
Then all my domestic blessings. Marrying as late as
38, yet finding one of the most affectionate of wives. Six
children, all of them attached to me beyond measure.
And though we have lost dear Barbara, yet in the main,
few men ever had such cause for thankfulness on ac-
count of the love of their children towards them. Then
my social blessings. No man ever had so many kind
friends; they quite overwhelm me with their goodness,
and show the wisdom there has been in my cultivating
my friendships with men of my own rank, and remain-
ing quietly in it, instead of trying to rise in life myself,
or to make friends among men of rank ; above all, the
wisdom of selecting religious men for friends. The
great and noble now all treat me with respect, because
they see I am independent of them, and some I believe
feel real attachment to me. Then my having faculties
sufficient to make me respectable — a natural faculty of
public speaking — though the complaint in my eyes sadly
hinders me in acquiring knowledge, and in writing.
Then, almost above all, my having been rendered the in-
strument of much spiritual good by my work on Chris-
tianity. How many, many have communicated to me
that it was the means of their turning to God ! Then all
this continued so long, and in spite of all my provoca-
tions. These it would be wrong to put down, but my
heart knows and feels them, and I trust ever will. And
it is a great mercy that God has enabled me to maintain
a fair, consistent, external course, so that I never have
brought disgrace on my Christian profession. Praise the
Lord, O my soul.

" And now, Lord, let me devote myself more solemnly
and more resolutely to Thee, desiring more than I ever
yet have done to dedicate my faculties to Thy glory and
service."

On the 4th of January Mr. Wilber force returned with
his diminished family to Marden Park; a lease of which

1821. PREPARES TO RETIRE FROM PUBLIC LIFE. 241

he had purchased ; where his recent loss, as well as his
decreasing powers of body, tended to detain him.

But though his bodily strength was visibly impaired, the
fire of his spirit was unquenched, and he longed to be still
active in his Master's work. " I am sometimes," he told
his friends, " quite grieved at the idea of my probably
not being able to do a little good yet before I quit the
stage; and the 71st Psalm is strongly impressed upon
me, especially the verse, 6 Forsake me not when I am old
and gray-headed.' Yet perhaps this is in part only
another form of selfishness ; and the better feeling that
which prompts me to acquiesce entirely in the disposal
of God. If my chief object be that His will be done,
what signifies it whether it be by me or not ? He can
raise up instruments at will, and I may be serving him
more acceptably by cheerfully retiring and giving place
to younger and more active men."

But he was not yet to close his parliamentary career;
and we find him soon after as busily and anxiously as ever
engaged in the great object which was ever nearest his
heart. During his retirement he prepared a letter to the
Emperor Alexander, on the subject of slavery, intended
for general circulation on the continent, and soon after
we find him at his place in the House of Commons, par-
ticipating in the debates both on this subject and Reform.
He attended the " Anniversaries" in May, speaking at
them all, though sometimes much exhausted. In June of
this year he announced to Mr. Stephen his wish that Mr.
Buxton or Mr. Whitmore "should take the chief manage-
ment of the Slave Trade concerns, and let me give oc-
casional assistance, as my indifferent health and infirmi-
ties will allow." But while he thus was willing to take
for himself the lowest room, he made at this very time a
speech upon occasion of moving an address on the sub-
ject, which is characterized by Mr. Buxton as " the best
he ever heard him make ;" " he poured forth his whole
soul on the duty of extending civilization and Christianity
to the savage and the heathen."

At Marden Park his family and friends were gathered
round him, and he was reading, conversing, writing let-

VOL. II. 21

242

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1821.

ters, and composing with all his usual diligence and
vigour. He was soon deep in various books. " Ran
over Cain — what diabolical wickedness ! Looked into
Swift's Letters — what a thoroughly irreligious mind —
no trace of Sunday to be found in his journals, or Let-
ters to his most intimate friends." " I am going on with
Thomas Scott's life in dressing. What a truly great
man old Scott was ; acting for so many years on the
highest principles, not only above money, but above
vain-glory, or any other of the idols of men ! I always
valued him, but now that his character is viewed more
distinctly, he really appears to have been a Christian
hero. I never saw a book which I should recommend
so strongly to the constant study of a minister." " The
grand point for imitation, and may we both attend to it,"
he writes to his eldest son, " is his integrity. He was
an Israelite indeed, in whom there was no guile. No
consideration of interest, gratification, or credit could
make him swerve consciously a hair's breadth from the
line of duty. This, depend on it, is the best of all signs.
I have often remarked that it has always ended eminent-
ly well with those in whom it has been visible. Such a
one was Lord Teignmouth. I know no one quality which
I always recognize with such heartfelt pleasure in any
persons whom I love." Lighter reading occupied the
fragments of the evening. " Scott's new poem, Halidon
Hill — very beautiful. I have been running over the For-
tunes of Nigel, the best, I mean the most moral in its
tendency, of any of Walter Scott's stories which I have
heard, illustrating the ways of Providence, the character
of men of the world, and their unfeeling selfishness."

In the midst of these wholesome domestic occupations
he was startled by the news of Lord Londonderry's
death, "I am shocked by it," he tells Mr. Stephen.
" How strange is it, that though professing to live under
the continual recollection of the uncertainty of life, yet
when such an event as this takes place, we are as much
astonished as if we had expected the man to be as sure
of good old age as of his actual existence !"

The particulars of this tragical event had not yet

1821.

DEATH OF LORD LONDONDERRY.

243

transpired, but the next day supplied more distinct intel-
ligence. "August 14th. S. brought a report from Croydon
that poor Londonderry had destroyed himself. 1 could
not believe it. The Courier, however, and several letters
too clearly confirmed it. He was certainly deranged —
the effect probably of continued wear and tear of mind.
But the strong impression of my mind is, that it is the
effect of the non-observance of the Sunday, both as ab-
stracting from politics, from the constant recurrence of
the same reflections, and as correcting the false views of
worldly things, and bringing them down to their true
diminutiveness." " All the time that I have been writing,"
he concludes a letter this day to Mr. Stephen, " poor
Castlereagh has been in my mind. I never was so
shocked by any incident. He really w7as the last man
in the world who appeared likely to be carried away
into the commission of such an act ! So cool, so self-
possessed. It is very curious to hear the newspapers
speaking of incessant application to business, forgetting
that by the weekly admission of a day of rest, which
our Maker has graciously enjoined, our faculties would
be preserved from the effects of this constant strain. I
am strongly impressed by the recollection of your en-
deavour to prevail on the lawyers to give up Sunday
consultations, in which poor Romilly would not concur.
If he had suffered his mind to enjoy such occasional re-
missions, it is highly probable the strings would never
have snapped as they did, from over-tension. Alas ! alas !
poor fellow ! I did not think I should feel for him so
very deeply."

Though now in comparative repose, he watched anx-
iously over the progress of his cause, and was sometimes
engaged in consultations with the other Abolition leaders ;
sometimes for w7hole days in " preparing a most im-
portant communication for Lord Bathurst," or in cor-
responding with the other members of administration.
He received " a satisfactory reply from Lord Liverpool,"
of whom he had demanded " as the head of the go-
vernment," that the plenipotentiary of Great Britain at
the approaching Congress might be " instructed by the

244

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1822.

Cabinet," to make the Abolition a point of leading
moment. And " if I could prevail on them to instruct
our naval officers to take the slave ships of France, I
would engage not only to defend the measure in the
House of Commons, but to take it on myself as of my
own advising."

He wrote at this time, and sent through William Allen
to Verona, a letter to the Emperor Alexander, seriously
urging him to exert himself. * He does not I hope be-
lieve that we are satisfied with him on Abolition grounds.
My letter, though civil in terms, was frank in matter,
and it plainly intimated that we should have no fa-
vourable opinion of his religious or moral character if
he did not honestly exert his powers in our behalf."

He had left home in the middle of September, and
travelling from house to house, visited many of his
friends, each of whom in turn delighted to gather round
him their own circle of acquaintance, whilst in addition
to these claims of society, a tide of letters overtook him
at each halt. Here was no room for idleness. " I thank
you most sincerely for your visit," he heard from Mr.
Buxton, with whom the series had commenced, " I shall
disappoint myself if I do not gather solid benefit from it.
1 believe I told you how much surprised I was at your
industry." His progress led him on to many of his
earliest haunts ; Elmdon, Rothley Temple, Yoxall Lodge,
and Apley, " the house of an honest Tory," were all
visited in turn ; and many interesting notices are scat-
tered through his Diary. " C. knew Canning well at
Eton ; he never played at any games with the other
boys; quite a man, fond of acting, decent, and moral.
Dr. Parr violent against him in public company ; says,
1 I know the interior of the man, and despise and abhor
him.' "

From Cromer Hall he paid Felbrigg a visit, and in its
library turned over with great interest many of the
books which were " full of Windham's marks." " Wind-
ham's mind," he said, " was in the last degree copious,
the soil was so fertile, scratch where you pleased, up
came white clover. He had many of the true cha-

1822. CORRESPONDENCE WITH EARLY FRIENDS.

245

racteristics of a hero, but he had one great fault as a
statesman, he hated the popular side of any question."
His companion quoted Pope —

" So much they hate the crowd, that if the throng
Go right by chance, they purposely go wrong."

" It was exactly so." he replied, u and I had a me-
lancholy proof of it in the instance of the Slave Trade.
When the Abolition had but few friends, he was all on
our side, but as the nation drew towards us. he retreated,
and at last on the division in 1807, he was one of the
sixteen who voted against us."

"Whilst at S. sat three-quarters of an hour with
Robert Hall, who quite himself. He eulogized highly
Scott's life, and old Scott himself; especially a sermon
he heard from him in Robinson's pulpit from 2 Pet. iii.
* Knowing I must soon put off this tabernacle as the
Lord hath showed me.' 1 It was a sermon,' he exclaimed
repeatedly in a most animated way, ' quite above all
criticism.' " " L. off to Birmingham to hear Hall preach
to-morrow ; I should have liked it, but thought it wrong.
In attending public worship we are not to be edified by
talent, but by the Holy Spirit, and therefore we ought to
look beyond the human agent."

Various incidents in this excursion had revived more
than one acquaintance which time had almost obliterated.

" The Duke of called on me, and sat for almost

three hours. He and I came into life about the same
time, though we have seldom met since. Oh what thanks
do I owe to a gracious Providence which provided me
with such parents, and guided me through such paths as
I have trodden !" In two other instances this revival of
acquaintance led to a correspondence of unusual interest.
One letter was to his college friend Dr. Frewen. " It is
always with a sort of melancholy pleasure, that I ad-
dress an old friend after a long period has elapsed without
personal intercourse. The mind naturally casts a back-
ward glance over the retrospect, and in the experience
of all there has been some loss or another which renders
the review affecting. These emotions have been this

21*

246

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1822.

very day called forth by breakfasting with our old friend
Carr, whom I had seen but once for above thirty years,
and now I am writing to another old friend in very
nearly similar circumstances." Dr. Frewen's answer
alluded to some coldness which he imagined had grown
up between them, (" of which 1 was quite unconscious,")
and led him to take a full and interesting review of his
life since the time of their early intercourse.

" Elmdon House, near Coventry, Dec. 6, 1822.

" My dear Sir,

Not a single day has passed since I received your in-
teresting letter, in which I have not wished, I may rather
say longed, to answer it. I really am impatient to state
to you some, for it would take far more eyesight than I
can spare to state all, of the sentiments and feelings you
have called forth. But let me begin by expressing that
strong confirmation your letter gives to my favourite
doctrine, and I must do myself the justice to say practice,
when we have to deal with any one of whom we are
disposed to think at all favourably, of frankly stating
every matter of complaint we conceive ourselves to have
against him, instead of suffering it to settle on its lees, if
I may use the expression, and acquire augmented strength
and colour by being kept within our own bosoms. It is
really true, that I was not aware of having exhibited
any coldness towards you in my behaviour, and also that
I have utterly forgot, if ever I knewT, the circumstance
in your behaviour toward me, to which you refer, as
having originated in a mistake, and from which I am
sorry to hear you suffered real pain.

I am pressed for time, and have been so much in the
same situation ever since I got your letter that I have
not been able to reflect upon it, or by calling up the re-
collection of long-past incidents to bring before me, if
possible, the circumstances to which you allude. You
therefore have my first thoughts, though I have had your
letter for some days in my possession.

Various are the emotions which the retrospect of my
life is calculated to produce in me; but those of thank.

1822.

REVIEW OF COLLEGE LIFE.

247

fulness for the wholly undeserved, and yet multiplied
mercies and bounties of God are, I hope, uppermost.
You cannot but remember, what I can never review
but with humiliation and shame, the course I ran at
college, and during the three or four first years of my
parliamentary life which immediately succeeded it. Yet
in justice to myself it is only fair to state, that at least as
much pains had been taken by my nearest relatives and
guardians to make me dissipated and vain, and though
they did not mean it, vicious also, as are commonly used
to counteract these dispositions ; and forgive me, my
dear sir, if opening my heart to you with frankness, and
trusting to your considering my letter as written in con-
fidence of your secrecy, I add that even at college most
of those very men who ought to have used both authority
and influence (and of the latter at least I was susceptible)
to root out these propensities, and to implant better,
rather confirmed than abated them. I must do both you
and Cookson the justice to exempt you in a good degree
from this charge, though, to be honest with you, not en-
tirely. For would not the golden rule have prompted
you to use towards me the language of a friend, if not
of a father? (My natural father I lost when eight years
old, and my grandfather and uncle soon after I went to
Cambridge.) Ought you not to have urged me to look
forward, and even on principles of sound human wisdom,
much more on Christian principles, to consider what
must be the issue of the course of life I was pursuing,
and of the choice I was making of associates and
friends? That though while my youthful spirits should
remain I might continue an entertaining companion, yet
that I should ere long bitterly lament that 1 had suffered
the years and circumstances which supplied opportunities
for acquiring useful knowledge, and even still more for
cultivating and strengthening the intellectual powers,
to pass away wholly unimproved 1 Ought you not to
have reminded me of the great account I had to render
of the talents committed to my stewardship, and to have
enforced on me the base ingratitude, to say nothing of
the guilt, of making such an unworthy return to the

248

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1822.

Giver of all good for all the uncommon blessings which
had been lavished on me with such exceeding pro-
digality? (I allude to my having been born in England
in the eighteenth century, and not when a man of my
weakly body would have been useless and contemptible
if he had not been exposed in his infancy, to my having
a handsome fortune, my being born in the middle rank
of life, and my having, I hope, a fair proportion of na-
tural talent, and a cheerful and not an anxious temper,
one of the greatest comforts in life ; but there would be
no end to the enumeration. I may fill up the line with,
&c. &c. &c.) You did not spend night after night at
cards with me, but did you suggest to me the fate of the
unprofitable servant 1

All this went on, with grief and shame I say it, till by
degrees I came to myself; for to no one can the phrase
be more justly applicable. This began in the summer
and autumn of 1785, and was carrying on in the winter
of 1785-6, and in the following spring, when blessed, for
ever blessed be God, I adopted those principles, to
which, though I am but too well aware very imperfect-
ly, 1 have ever since made it the great business of my
life to conform my character, I should rather say my
dispositions, and tempers, and conduct. Of course I
then took a survey of the past and the future. Provi-
dence had placed me in a situation which I must say I
still think one of the most honourable that any man can
possess — that of member for Yorkshire. How was I to
proceed ? My religion taught me the duty of devoting
all my faculties and powers as a debt of gratitude to my
reconciled Father in Christ Jesus, as well as of reasona-
ble service to my Creator, Preserver, and continual Bene-
factor. And I was to labour more abundantly than
the men of the world, who looked only to gain or to
glory for their recompense. For 1 what do ye more
than others,' was our Saviour's language to his disci-
ples. You know but too well how sadly empty I then
was ; how utterly destitute of the habits no less than of
the knowledge I ought to have possessed. My business
therefore manifestly was, to employ as diligently as I

1822.

LETTER TO DR. FREWEtf.

249

could in study as much as possible of my recesses from
parliament ; and as I knew I could do far less in any
house of my own, for many years I quartered myself for
nearly all the time parliament was not sitting with dif-
ferent friends, who suffered me to breakfast in my own
room, and live as much as I pleased the life of a student.
Once I was with Cookson ; (poor fellow, it is with a
sigh that 1 write his name: he and his wife both gone and
I left;) and ever after with Gisborne in Staffordshire, and
Babington in Leicestershire. Thus I went on until I
married in 1797.

I have gone into this narrative because you are con-
cerned in it. You will see at once that having no house
of my own, except that either in or near London, from
which I attended the House of Commons, I could not
ask any of my old friends to come about me under my
own roof — otherwise remembering our old habits of
social intercourse, I think it is most probable I should
have endeavoured to renew them — yet while I am writ-
ing, a new idea has suggested itself. I do not recollect
having sent you a book of a religious nature which I
published in 1797, just before my marriage ; if not, I
gave you reason to complain of me for failing in the
performance of an act of friendship ; for in truth, one of
the chief objects I had in view in writing and publishing
that work, was to explain to my friends the causes of
the change which they witnessed in my ' goings-on,' (to
use a coarse but expressive phrase,) and the principles
which I could not but earnestly wish and pray that all
whom I valued and loved should also embrace. Now if
I did not send it to you, I really believe the omission
must have arisen from forgetfulness. But it was an un-
friendly omission, and I beg your pardon for it, and will
repair the fault. I grant, however, that though the in-
terest I took in the well-being of my old friends, was
even greater than it had been before the change I have
been speaking of, yet that from natural and obvious
causes, we were not likely to be such agreeable inti-
mates to each other as heretofore. There was no longer
the 1 eadem velle' and * eadem nolle' in the same degree,

250

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1822

and therefore we were likely to retain full as strong a
desire to serve such friends as formerly, but not to have
the same pleasure in each other's society. But as you
and I have never to my knowledge been in the same
place, we never have had opportunities of seeing much
of each other. Thus, my dear sir, I have explained myself
to you without reserve, and before I conclude let me say a
few words concerning that same publication which I
trust you will still do me the favour to accept and
peruse.

It is not from any idea of its literary merit that I en-
treat you to peruse it. I am quite aware that it is much
too diffuse and even tautologous. But I am more and
more convinced by subsequent experience, that the cha-
racter and practices which are recommended in it, are
such as the New Testament prescribes to us, and such
as alone will bring peace at the last. You will at once
however see, that my main object was to endeavour to
convince my friends that the mere outward profession
of Christian principles could not be all that was required,
when such strong figures were used and expressive ex-
planations given to describe the dispositions and affec-
tions which were to be formed in us here, in order to
qualify us for a better world hereafter.

As to the other points to which I drew your attention
in my former letter, I can say but a very few words on
them. It is very natural that I should not have formed
a very correct idea of your political sentiments, con-
sidering our not having exchanged a word on the sub-
ject for between thirty and forty years. I am myself
decidedly convinced that party is one of the chief evils
which in politics we have now reason to regret. This it
is, which in the opinion of many well meaning (though
I do not think them rightly judging) men, renders
governing by influence necessary ; so that it has become
a settled contest, whoever is minister, between crown
influence on one side and systematic opposition on the
other. Of course I do not mean to condemn all co-
operation of like-minded men, and I know that if I were
to have made such an acknowledgment in a public as-

1822.

LETTER TO T. F. BUXTON, ESQ.

251

sembly, the ready reply would be, Why, what is that but
party ? It is certainly one of the innumerable cases in
which the fault is in the abuse, in the excess of the
thing, not in its nature.

As to Parliamentary Reform, it would require more
eye-sight than I can spare to put on paper what I think
on that head. But I doubt not you would concur with
me in opinion that the bribery, of all sorts and forms,
and the drunkenness, which attend our present system,
are those evils which call by far the loudest for reform.
I verily believe, and have long believed, the constituent
body to be more corrupt than the representative.

My dear sir, I must say farewell. May every bless-
ing attend you and yours."

Mr. Buxton, to whom he entrusted the lead in the
House of Commons in the great question of emancipa-
tion, having written to him in terms of high eulogium on
the industry which marked the employment of his time
during a few days they spent together, he replied as
follows :

TO T. F. BUXTON, ESQ.

" You intimated a high sense of my industry. Alas !
my dear friend, truly is it said in Holy Writ, ' The heart
knoweth its own bitterness.' You little know how I re-
proach myself for not having expended wisely and eco-
nomically the many more years of health than from my
bodily frame I could reasonably have expected to be
employed on earth in my Master's business. I do not
mean that I actually waste much time! for, honestly
speaking, I am conscious that I do not ; but I am sadly
chargeable with the fault of not expending my time with
judgment.

But alas, my dear friend, my want of industry is most
exhibited, (to the Searcher of hearts, at least,) in my not
duly availing myself of all opportunities of forming and
strengthening the habit prescribed by the apostle, ' What-
ever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the

252

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1822.

Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father through
Him.' We all are apt to forget that the great object of
our lives should be to acquire that new nature which is
to qualify us to live in heaven, or, in Scriptural language,
is to make us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of
the saints in light. Now this new state is produced,
blessed be God, in various ways, and we are never cul-
tivating it more efficiently than when, under the influ-
ence of right motives, we are doing good to our fellow-
creatures, especially if our active services are attended
with self-denial. But the formation of the right temper
and character is the main thing still. God can effect
His own purposes by His own agents as He will. ' They
also serve who only stand and wait and indeed they
often are proceeding in the same great work of culti-
vating and strengthening the right dispositions and tem-
pers— humility, submission, patience, love, peace, joy,
child-like affiance, far more prosperously than those wrho
to the view of their fellow Christians may be abound-
ing in all the works of faith, and labours of love. Let
this, my friend, be your grand work and mine, and to
this end let our industry be mainly directed. One thing
is needful.

Now a gracious Providence has kindly allotted to us
the far easier as well as pleasanter line of active service,
and let me assure you in a parenthesis, that I have often
rejoiced of late years in thinking of my having you for
an associate and successor, as indeed I told you. Nowr,
my dear B., my remorse is sometimes very great, from
my consciousness that we have not been duly active in
endeavouring to put an end to that system of cruel
bondage, which for two centuries has prevailed in our
West Indian colonies ; and my idea is, that a little
before parliament meets, three or four of us should
have a secret cabinet council, wherein we should de-
liberate and decide what course to pursue. I can scarcely
say what pain it would give me, were I to be unable be-
fore I go hence to declare my sentiments and feelings on
this head."

1823.

APPEAL IS BEHALF OF NEGRO SLAVES.

253

But no council of war was needful to decide that the
first step in this attempt must be taken by himself, and
that the subject must be introduced to parliament and to
the nation by the long acknowledged patron of the negro
race. His friends urged him therefore u to record and
publish his opinions as to the state of the negro slaves,
the duty of improving it, and of gradually emancipating
them. Indeed my conscience reproaches me," he says,
" with having too long suffered this horrible evil to go
on. We must now call on all good men throughout the
kingdom to join us in abolishing this w?icked system, and
striving to render the degraded race by degrees a free
peasantry. Oh may God bless our attempt."

It was desired that he should set the renewed effort in
motion, by a manifesto on the condition of the slaves in
the colonies, and upon this and a preface to the work of
Witherspoon, he was engaged during a great part of the
winter, months, bestowing much labour on the Appeal
which was published early in March. He then speaks
of himself as " busy for the first time on" his * Slavery
Abolition wTork. My pamphlet is well liked, thank God."
No address was ever better qualified to produce that
mighty effect which followed its publication. Its kind-
ness and forbearance towards individuals, rendered its
earnest expostulations irresistible. The fervour of the
writer's natural manner was so happily tempered by
Christian candour, and by the wisdom of age, that no
heart could be closed when he spoke, " suavitate ilia, qua
perfunderet animos, non qua perfringeret." Its perusal, a
West Indian proprietor told him, " has so affected me,
that should it cost me my whole property, I surrender it
willingly, that my poor negroes may be brought not
only to the liberty of Europeans, but especially to the
liberty of Christians."

But the nation was slow to be persuaded of the cruel
and debasing nature of a system which it had so long
maintained, and which was linked with innumerable
private interests. Mr. Wilberforce had learned too
much in his thirty-five years' apprenticeship in African

vol. n. 22

254

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1823.

controversy, to expect the chains of slavery to crumble
under a single blow.

In his present measures he was but following up his
former steps. He had attacked the Slave Trade as a
monstrous evil in itself, while he hoped that its suppres-
sion would lead at once to an improved treatment of the
race of slaves. He had waited patiently for this result ;
perfecting the work of Abolition by international nego-
tiation, and guarding against smuggled importation by
registering the slaves. But he waited fruitlessly; whilst
the working of the registry showed beyond all doubt,
that the negroes (elsewhere amongst the most prolific of
the human race) were melting away under the driving
system by a sure and rapid diminution. Self-interest
therefore was not a sufficient corrective of the system,
and delay was impossible. The time was at length
come, when he must demand that from parliament, to
which he had hoped that gradual improvements would
have imperceptibly led on the planters.

He was also obliged at this session to defend the So-
ciety for the vSuppression of Vice from the attacks of
Joseph Hume.

But these peculiar services were often interrupted by
his increasing infirmities. " My lungs," he says, (April
15th,) "are affected, and my voice weak; so I am
forced to keep the house, though yesterday Canning's
explanation about the Spanish negotiations. To-night
the motion against Plunket, when, above all the House,
it would have become me to move the previous question.
I greatly regret that I could not go, but I must accustom
myself to be willing to retire. Even a pagan could say,
solve senescentem, &c. A Christian, considering him-
self the servant of God, does his Master's business so
long as He signifies His will, by action and no less by
retiring. 1 hope I have been acting on this principle
(applying 6 he must increase, but I must decrease') to
other and younger men. And oh may I be enabled to
walk by faith, not sight ; and then all will be clear and
easy, and not unpleasant." " How cheering is the con-

1823. HUMBLE ESTIMATE OF CHARACTER.

255

sideration that all events are under the guidance of infi-
nite wisdom and goodness, and that we are hastening to
a world of secure peace and joy !"

The foundation of this graceful and easy retirement
from the foremost place which he had so long filled, was
laid in the deep Christian humility which gave its tone to
the following letter.

TO J. S. HARFORD, ESQ.

" House of Commons, April 25.

" My dear Friend,

Do not measure by the tardiness of my reply the force
of the feelings excited by your last friendly note. The
most interesting part I shall like to talk to you upon. O
my friend, you struck a string which vibrates in my
heart in full unison. When I review all my past life,
and consider ever since it has been my general intention
to live to the glory of God, and in obedience to His laws,
what have been my obligations, and what ought to be
the amount and the effects of my gratitude, what my
means and opportunities of usefulness, what the scanti-
ness of my performances, and with what alloy my mo-
tives have been debased ; alas, alas, my friend, I have
no peace, no rest, but in the assurances of pardon and
acceptance to penitent believers in Christ Jesus ; and I
adopt the language of the Publican, with the declara-
tions of mercy and grace held out to the contrite and
broken-hearted. What a blessed truth it is, that it is
our duty to be confident in the undeserved bounty and
overflowing loving-kindness of our heavenly Father !
Farewell.

Ever affectionately,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

On the 15th of May, Mr. Buxton, to whom he had
now committed the leading place in his great wrork, 44 be-
gan his Slavery motion about half-past five. He moved
a resolution declaring Slavery repugnant to Christianity
and the constitution. Canning replied, and moved reso-

256

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1823.

lutions proclaiming reform of the system, and specifying
driving, punishment of females, Sunday work, and mar-
ket. It was an awkward situation, but I could not learn
what our friends thought, and I never got up so utterly
unprepared, but D. G. I believe I hit the point. We cer-
tainly could not have divided well. The debate dragged
on till one and more."

For the remainder of the session, which he spent
chiefly in town, his bodily strength was taxed to the
utmost, and his breakfast table — crowded sometimes by
" a consultation on our Slave cause," sometimes by most
variously assorted guests, " reminded him of the old bustle
of a Kensington Gore breakfast."

Even at the most busy times his sons were receiving
from him the most affectionate and thoughtful letters.

to .*

" London, June 14th, 1823.

" My very dear ,

I scarcely need assure you, that however much I am
occupied, I am never intentionally long without taking
up my pen to write to you. There can be no business
so important to me as the well-being of my children.
But not seldom I am cheated out of my time ; as I am
at this moment. The Archbishop of Dublin was to
breakfast with me, and I desired Mr. Wilson to come a
little before, that I might introduce them to each other,
in conformity with a principle on which I have acted for
many years, and which I recommend to you early in
life, that of bringing together all men who are like-
minded, and may one day combine and concert for the
public good.

Never omit any opportunity, my dear , of getting

acquainted with any good or useful man. More per-
haps depends on the selection of acquaintance than on
any other circumstance of life. Acquaintance are the
raw material, from which are manufactured friends,

* Aged 18.

1823.

LETTER TO HIS SON.

257

husbands, wives. I wish it may please God that you
may have some good ones to choose from on your first

settling at Oxford. T seems a very pleasing young

man, but I own I covet a much higher praise for my
sons; and oh that I could have reason to believe they
were steadily and sturdily setting themselves to act on
that beautiful description of the true Christian's charac-
ter which we had two or three mornings ago in our
family service, 'among whom ye shine as lights in the

world !' O my dearest what would I give to see

you a (pwCmp sv tu xotfjxw. The idea has brought tears into
my eyes and almost disqualified me from going on with
my letter. My dearest , aim high ; do not be con-
tented with being hopeful ; strive to be a Christian in the
highest sense of that term. How little do you know to
what services Providence may call you ! If, when I
was at your age, any one had pointed to me and said,
That youth in a few years will be member for the first
county in England, it would have been deemed the
speech of a madman. But I can truly say I would as
much rather see you a Buchanan, as eternity is beyond
any given portion of time in the estimate of a reasonable
being.

But my time and eyesight are expended, and though 1
seem as full of matter as ever, I must stop — not, however,
without assuring you how earnestly I shall pray for you
to-morrow, (inter Sylvas Mardeni,) that you 4 may be
strengthened with might in the inner man.'

The young men of our day are in no danger of being
called to the encounter of fire and sword — to burning at
the stake; but then the consequence of this absolution, is
their not being prepared for that milder form of persecu-
tion which they may be called on to face. But all may
be done through prayer — almighty prayer, I am ready
to say; and why not? For that it is almighty, is only
through the gracious ordination of the God of love and

truth. Oh then pray, pray, pray, my dearest ; but

then remember to estimate your state on sell-examination
not by your prayers, but by what you find to be the
effects of them on your character, tempers, and life.

22*

258

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1823.

But this opens a wide prospect, and I must stop. Most
reluctantly, farewell.

Ever most affectionately yours,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

The conclusion of this letter is a picture of the tone
of his religion; fruitful in the liveliest affections, but
tested unceasingly by its more substantial fruits. " I
should wish to know," he said after hearing of a happy
death, " the man's previous character ; for such expres-
sions of confidence in the Saviour are not satisfactory
to me unless they are accompanied by other marks of
practical religion."

CHAPTER XII.

Barmouth — Retires from Parliament — Visits to Friends — Recollections
of Public Characters.

Having given up his tenancy of Marden Park, Mr.
Wilberforce was now looking out for some summer quar-
ters, at which to fix his family. No Diary of the next
few months was found amongst his papers ; but his cor-
respondence will supply the blank, and enable us to trace
his steps. Shortly before leaving London he thus men-
tions to a son (aet. 18,) the place upon which he had de-
cided for the gathering of the family.

" Brompton, July 29, 1823.

" My very dear ,

Your disappointment at the arrangement which pre-
vented your paying us a pop-visit can scarcely have been
greater than ours; but it is a great pleasure to me to
think that we shall meet D. V. ere long, and spend some
time together. It will then be your duty to take plenty

1823.

EXCURSION TO WALES.

259

of air and exercise ; and in selecting Barmouth for our
quarters I was principally decided by the consideration
that the place would tend to render the duty a greater
pleasure to you all. Barmouth, I understand, is very
near the most ferocious and untamed of all the Welsh
mountain-lions, though Snowdon may take the lead a
little in mere bulk.

In came about an hour ago. She speaks of your

and 's kindness to her in terms which delight my

heart. Even the world, not commonly a just estimator
of the value of character and conduct, always respects
and admires family union and affection. May a gracious
God keep you all, my dear children, mutually attached
to each other : the ties of nature being strengthened, and
adorned, and perpetuated by the influence of grace.

Farewell, my beloved . Praying God to bless

you, I am

Ever affectionately yours,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

On his road to Barmouth he wrote to one who had
shared his excursion to the Lakes, and who had been
the most intimate friend of his eldest daughter.

" July 30.

" My dear ,

Any one whom I love at all, I seem to love better in
a land of mountains ; and I understand that of all the
Welsh lions, Cader ldris, beside the roots of which Bar-
mouth is situated, if not the most respectable in size, is
the wildest and most untameable in his properties. Yet
certain recollections will chasten the vivid colouring of
this glowing prospect, and though with a melancholy
now become not unpleasing, because so enriched and
animated by hope, will a little sadden the gaiety of the
scene. Fancy would paint for itself a renewal of the
expedition in which I rode by your side in scaling the
heights of Skiddaw, or in which Southey skipped as
light and elastic as a bird from stone to stone in tracking
his path through Brothersdale, near Wyburn Water.

260

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1823.

There was a chapel and a school — not that school
tyrannized over by that Queen Elizabeth of schoolmis-
tresses at whose nod the terrified children trembled in
Langdale. How naturally we are drawn into retracing
our steps when we look back with interest on the road
we travelled !

I have lately been hearing the first hundred pages of
Southey's Peninsular War, in which he gives you a bird's
eye view of the French principles, and character, and
conduct under Buonaparte ; and they have rekindled in
me that warmth of gratitude, which I own I think is far
too little felt by my countrymen, even by the considerate
and serious of them, towards the great Disposer of all
things for having delivered us from the imminent danger
to which we were exposed, if not of becoming the prey
of that ferocious and unprincipled tyrant, yet of having
our country the seat of warfare, with all the unspeakable
and almost innumerable evils and miseries which we
must in that case have endured, though we had been
ultimately victorious. One of Buonaparte's generals, in
the true spirit of his school, (Augereau, I think.) is said
to have declared in speaking of this very subject, ' Let
me land with 100,000 men in England, and I do nt>t say
I will keep possession of the country for France, but this
I say, that the country shall be brought into such a state,
that no Englishman shall be able to live in it with com-
fort for a hundred years to come.'

What a fiend-like spirit ! to contemplate with savage
joy the pains of his inflicting, which should be felt by
generations yet unborn. The mind that could cherish
such a sentiment must indeed be enmity itself against
God, whose nature and whose name is love. O, my dear
friend, what emotions are called forth by the very men-
tion of that infinitely glorious and gracious Being, the
sum of all perfection, who condescends to grant us even
here a measure of His Spirit and nature, and of whom
we are told that w7hen He shall appear we shall be like
Him, for we shall see Him as He is. Oh may we verify
our title to that blessed distinction, by our practical ob-
servation of the apostle's declaration, that every one that

1823.

INTEREST IN EMANCIPATION.

261

hath this hope purifieth himself even as He is pure. May
we be enabled to prosecute our endeavours after this
blessed state with more unceasing and strenuous vigour,
and may we have reason hereafter to look back with
mutual thankfulness towards each other on account of
our having been mutually useful to each other in this
greatest of all lines of service. Believe me to be
Ever very affectionately yours,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

From this retirement he watched with intense interest
the progress of his cause. " I am expecting tidings of
the reception given in the West Indies to the account of
the parliamentary proceedings, and more especially of
Mr. Canning's proposals." " My heart and head are full
of West Indian matters." 14 1 wish that I could be as
easy about insurrection as you and Stephen. That they
would not happen if the people on the spot really appre-
hended them, and would take reasonable means of guard-
ing against them, I verily believe, but rebus sic stantibus,
I have ever been, I own, and still am, afraid on that head.
Yet what can we do but act as cautiously as justice and
humanity will allow T"

After his return from Barmouth, during his attendance
on parliament, he was in the utmost danger from an
attack of inflammation of the lungs. His perfect pa-
tience, and the bursts of love and thankfulness which
were ever breaking forth throughout this season of rest-
lessness and languor, can never be forgotten by those
who watched with the deepest anxiety beside the sick-
bed of such a father. He was continually repeating
what shortly before he had observed to Mr. Stephen ;
" No man has been more favoured than I, for even when
I am ill my complaints occasion little suffering." Beckon-
ing to him one of his sons when he was scarce able to
speak, he whispered, " At this moment I have your face
before me when I left you at school in Leicestershire."

To Mr. Babington, who had expressed his pleasure
at witnessing the great affection borne him by his
family, he wrote in reply — " No physician can devise,

262

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1823.

and no money can purchase, such a cordial restorative
to a sick man. And then how exceedingly favourable
are these domestic blessings to a state of heart pleasing
to God !" " How much have I seen some characters
improved, even independently of all religious principles,
by the softening and stimulating power which He has
graciously imparted to these strong affections."

It would indeed be strange if it had been otherwise.
He was beloved in general society ; but if he sparkled
there, he shone at home. None but his own family
could fully know the warmth of his heart, or the une-
qualled sweetness of his temper. With the strictest
truth they can affirm,"that never in the most unguarded
moments of domestic privacy did they see obscured, in
w7ord or action, the full sunshine of his kindliest affections.

" His every deed and word that he did say
Was like enchantment, which through both the eyes,
And both the ears, did steal the heart away."

The last entry of his Diary before he was confined
wholly to his bed, was, " Poor Smith the missionary died
in prison at Demerara! The day of reckoning will
come;" — and the first public business he attempted, after
leaving his sick room, was, (June 1st,) " Preparing for
Smith the missionary's business. I was at the House the
first time for eight weeks or more. Brougham made a
capital speech, by Mackintosh well termed impregnable.
I doubt not he will be great in reply. Mackintosh's own
was most beautiful, his mind teemed with ideas." The
decision was postponed till the 11th, on which occasion
he spoke at large.

" The West Indians," he said, " abhor alike the end we
have in view, and the means by which we hope to reach
it. They frankly avow that from the emancipation of
their slaves they look for inevitable ruin ; whilst all their
prejudices are revolted by each of our remedial measures.
If they agreed with us as to our grand object, we might
hope to lessen by degrees their aversion to our several
steps ; or were those measures singly acceptable to them,

1823.

RETIRES FROM PARLIAMENT.

263

we might hope gradually and almost insensibly to lead
them to our end. But what can we hope, when they ab-
hor alike both means and end? It is with reluctance and
pain I come forward, but I esteem it my bounden duty
to protest against the policy on which we are now act-
ing. 4Liberavi animam meam.' May it please God to
disappoint my expectations, and to render the result
more favourable than I anticipate."

These prophetic words were the last which he uttered
in the House of Commons. Ten days later he set off,
after attending a meeting held in honour of James Watt,
for Lord Gambier's seat at Iver; and on the road was
seized with a new attack of illness. When he reached
Lord Gambier's he was 44 but just able to be helped up
stairs to bed," where he lay in an alarming state for
almost a month. This second attack left him in so shat-
tered a condition, as to enforce upon him the necessity
of absolute repose, and as soon as he could move with
safety he took possession of a small house bordering on
Uxbridge Common.

Here he lived in entire seclusion, though by no means
in idleness. 44 We have been living very quietly ; never
visiting, scarcely receiving a single visiter. Often we
have a little family reading in the evenings after tea,
(Robertson's America,) which Ishould always like, if itdid
not compel me to write my letters in the morning, when
I wish to be employed in more solid work. Oh that God
would enable me to execute my long-formed purpose of
writing another religious book. I have also a wish to
write something political : my own life, and Pitt's too,
coming into the discussion."

As the year advanced he moved in pursuance of Medi-
cal advice to Bath, and though much annoyed by the
many inroads upon his time incident to the habits of the
place, he was yet gratified by the renewal of old friend-
ships, and closed his sojourn there by visits to Blaize Cas-
tle and Barley Wood ; and he enters in his Diary, Nov.
3d: 44 Sat with Hannah More about an hour and a half
— she as animated as I ever knew her, quoting authors,
&c. Off about one, after praying with her." He

264

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1824.

" returned to our cottage retirement near Uxbridge to
collect his children around him according to the good
old English custom. I lay no little stress on the bringing
together at Christmas all the members of the family, if it
can be effected. Such an anniversary annually observed,
tends to heal any little division, and to cherish mutual
attachments." The new year opened according to his
wish. 44 Our dear boys living in much harmony. What
cause have I for gratitude, seeing my five children, my
son's wife and two grand children, all round my table !
Praise the Lord, Oh my soul."

One important question occupied his thoughts all
through the autumn. His strength had been visibly im-
paired by the severe attacks of the spring and summer;
and he was strongly recommended to retire from public
life. He could not bring himself at once to acquiesce in
this decision. 44 The idea of retiring and not endea-
vouring to bear" his 44 testimony once more in support of
truth and righteousness," he found 44 very painful." This
was not from any restless wish to be in action. 44 There
was no particular," he had three years before this time
declared to Dr Chalmers, 44 in which his estimate of
things had been more corrected than in his judgment of
the comparative usefulness of different individuals. To
express my sentiments briefly I may say, that I more and
more enter into the spirit of that beautiful sonnet of Mil-
ton's on his blindness, ending

4 Who best

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best —
They also serve who only stand and wait.' "

This quietness of mind was increased by his habitual
reference of all that concerned himself to the leading of
God's providence. In the course of this autumn, an ar-
rangement was suggested to him by the friendly zeal of
Sir John Sinclair, which would have removed him to
the calmer atmosphere of the Upper House. 44 To your
friendly suggestion," was his remarkable reply, 44 re-
specting changing the field of my parliamentary labours,

1825.

DETTER TO J. J. GURNEY.

265

I must say a word or two, premising that I do not in-
tend to continue in public life longer than the present
parliament. I will not deny that there have been periods,
in my life, when on worldly principles the attainment of
a permanent, easy, and quiet seat in the legislature, would
have been a pretty strong temptation to me. But, I
thank God, I was strengthened against yielding to it.
For (understand me rightly) as I had done nothing to
make it naturally come to me, I must have endeavoured
to go to it ; and this would have been carving for myself,
if I may use the expression, much more than a Christian
ought to do."

His reluctance to retire sprung from deep humility.
It was not so much that he wished to do more, as that he
regretted he had done so little.

To Mr. Harford he writes : " When I consider that
my public life is nearly expired, and when I review the
many years I have been in it, I am filled with the deep-
est compunction, from the consciousness of my having
made so poor a use of the talents committed to rny stew-
ardship. The heart knows its own bitterness. We alone
know ourselves, the opportunities we have enjoyed, and
the comparative use we have made of them. But it is
only to your friendly ear that I breathe out my secret sor-
rows. I might be supposed by others to be fishing for a
compliment. Well, it is an unspeakable consolation that
we serve a gracious Master, who giveth liberally and
upbraideth not." This was no passing feeling. A year
after he wrote to Mr. Gurney.

TO J. J. GURNEY.

" Oct. 24, 1825.

II My dear Friend,

My eyes are indifferent, and were they ever so strong
I should wear them out, were I to attempt to give ex-
pression to the sentiments and feelings with which my
bosom is overcharged. Let us rejoice and bless God
that we live in a land in which we are able to exert
our faculties in mitigating the sufferings, redressing the

vol. ii. 23

266

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1825.

wrongs, and above all, promoting the best interests of
our fellow-creatures. I sometimes fear we are not suffi-
ciently thankful for this most gratifying and honourable
distinction; and perhaps I feel this the more strongly,
because in the private ear of a Christian friend I will
whisper, that though I should not speak truly if 1 were
t© charge my parliamentary life with sins of commission,
(for I can call God to witness, so far as I can recollect,
that I always spoke and voted according to the dictates
of my conscience, for the public and not for my own
private interest,) yet I am but too conscious of numerous
and great sins of omission, many opportunities of doing
good either not at all or very inadequately improved.
Particularly, from an early period of my parliamentary
life, I intended to propose a bill for greatly lessening the
number of oaths, and once I carried on a previous in-
quiry, and had a committee formed for the purpose.
But, alas ! alas ! I have been forced to retire from public
life re infecta, though I must say that several times I had
reason to believe that some other members, chiefly official
men, would take the measure off my hands, and I always
preferred employing others on such occasions, that 1
might not be said to be trying to monopolize. But my
friends deceived me. Believe me to be ever, my dear
friend,

Yours very affectionately,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

Thoroughly had he imbibed the spirit of the precept,
which bids us " when we have done all, say we are un-
profitable servants," who after forty years of such ser-
vice could see only his omissions. More indeed he
might have effected if his habits had been strictly regu-
lar and business-like; but it would have been at a great
sacrifice of incidental good. His daily trayfull of letters,
which in 1806 so alarmed his colleague Mr. Fawkes,
that he exclaimed on seeing it, " If this is to be member
for Yorkshire the sooner I am rid of it the better," con-
sumed many of his best hours; but they were given up
to " Christian courtesy," and " the relief of individual

1825.

CHARITY.

267

distress." He might have closed his doors against the
tide of interruptions which flowed in upon him day by-
day; but if he had, many a friendless sufferer would
have " cried unto the Lord against him." He gave way
therefore to these interruptions upon principle. " It appears
to me," he said in the review of his political life, " that
public men in this country should consider it one of the
duties imposed on them by Providence, to receive and
inquire into the case of distressed persons, who from
finding them interested for suffering individuals, or classes
of mankind, are naturally led to apply to them for the
redress of their own grievances, or the supply of their
own wants."

On this principle he strictly acted, and by a multitude
of daily charities, as much as by his public conduct,
" urged on the lingering progress of the human mind."

"I was with him once," says Lord Clarendon, " w7hen
he was preparing to make an important motion in the
House of Commons. While he was most deeply engaged,
a poor man called, I think his name was Simkins, who
was in danger of being imprisoned for a small debt. He
could find no one to be bound for him. Wilberforce did
not like to become his surety without inquiry ; it was
contrary to a rule which he had made ; but nothing
could induce him to send the man away. 1 His goods,'
said he, * will be sold, and the poor fellow will be totally
ruined.' I believe, at last, he paid the debt himself ; but
I remember well the interruption which it gave to his
business, which he would not resume till the case was
provided for."

This was a sample of his life ; and if he now looked
back on many plans of usefulness which he had left un-
accomplished, it was not because his time had been
passed in ease or self-indulgence, but because he had
never learned to " stop his ears at the cry of the poor."

To a son at college, he announced in the following
letter his determination.

268

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1825.

" Near Uxbridge, Feb. 1.

" My dear ,

I should not like you to hear from common rumour
that I have decided to retire from public life, and therefore,
though much pressed for time, I announce to you this to
me important, and what from the affectionate concern

my very dear takes in all that belongs to me, will

be to him very interesting intelligence. It is to me
almost like change of nature to quit parliamentary life,
all the particulars of which have been formed into habits
during a course of almost forty-six years. But after
mature reflection, the good I was likely to do in the
House of Commons appeared to be outweighed by the
probable danger to my life, and the consequent loss of
any good I might yet do in a private station, either to
my own family, or to a still wider circle. And it should
be borne in mind, that in this comparison, all that may
be done in private life was to be balanced, not against
the effect of the labours of even a single session, but that
of the occasional attendance to which alone my medical
adviser would accede.

What cause have I for thankfulness, that in withdraw-
ing from the political circle, I retire into the bosom of a
family whose affectionate assiduities would be sufficient
to cheer the lowest state of poverty and depression, while
I have all around me that can administer to my comfort,
or rather enjoyment, in the evening of life ! Praise the
Lord, O my soul. Indeed 1 hope I am in some degree,
though not sufficiently, grateful for all these blessings.
No one perhaps has such cause as myself to adopt the
psalmist's declaration, 6 Surely goodness and mercy have
followed me all the days of my life,' Good-night my

dear . Our friends the Babingtons are staying with

us, which leaves me less time for writing even than 1
have eyesight. I know I shall be much pressed to-
morrow, so I have taken up a very bad pen to-night.
May God bless you — the constant wish, as in a few
minutes it will be the prayer, of

Your most affectionate father,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

1825.

HIS ELOQUENCE.

269

His place as a mere orator was still amongst the very
first. When he spoke indeed on the common subjects of
political dispute the effects of age were in a degree visi-
ble ; but, to the very last, when he lighted on a thoroughly
congenial subject, he broke out into those strains which
made Sir Samuel Romilly esteem him " the most efficient
speaker in the House of Commons," and which had long
before led Pitt himself to say repeatedly, " Of all the men
I ever knew, Wilberforce has the greatest natural elo-
quence." Mr. Morritt seems to have formed a very
accurate conception both of his ordinary powers of
speaking, and of that measure of decay which they at
last exhibited. " I find," he says, " that I have recorded
my own general opinion of his oratory and parliamentary
exertions, in terms which, though intended only to com-
memorate for my own future reflection the more recent
impression they made, 1 extract from their privacy in
my drawer, that you may be more sure of their being
my genuine and impartial judgment.

" Wilberforce held a high and conspicuous place in
oratory, even at a time when English eloquence rivalled
whatever we read of in Athens or in Rome. His voice
itself was beautiful ; deep, clear, articulate, and flexible.
I think his greatest premeditated efforts were made for
the Abolition of the Trade in Slaves, and in support-
ing some of the measures brought forward by Pitt, for
the more effectual suppression of revolutionary machina-
tions, but he often rose unprepared in mixed debate, on
the impulse of the moment, and seldom sat down without
having struck into that higher tone of general reasoning
and vivid illustration, which left on his hearers the im-
pression of power beyond what the occasion had called
forth. He was of course unequal, and I have often
heard him confess that he never rose without embarrass-
ment, and always felt for a while that he was languid
and speaking feebly, though he warmed as he went on.
I have heard the late Mr. Windham express the same
discontent with himself, both probably from the high
standard of excellence at which they aimed. I always
felt, and have often heard it remarked by others, that in

23*

270

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1825.

all his speeches, long or short, there was generally at
least from five to ten minutes of brilliance, which even
the best orator in the House might have envied.

" His own unaffected principles of humility, and his
equally sincere estimate of the judgment and good inten-
tions of others, which became in advancing life more
and more predominant, influenced both his line of ora-
tory, and his reasoning when not in the House of Com-
mons. He gradually left off the keener weapons of ri-
dicule and sarcasm, however well applied and justly
aimed; but with the candour that gave what he thought
due weight to an adversary's argument, he sometimes
(as it seemed to me) with undue diffidence neglected or
hesitated to enforce his own. Sometimes also, as on the
questions involving peace or war, the wishes of his heart
were at variance with the conclusions of his understand-
ing, and 6 resolutions of great pith and moment,'

4 Were sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought.'

" I have more than once remonstrated with him for
giving us in his speech the deliberation which passed in
his own mind, instead of the result to which it led him,
thus furnishing his opponents with better weapons than
their own arsenal could supply. Of course this led to
many an imputation of inconsistency from those who
loved him not, which those who knew him not received;
but the real difference was between the manly decision
of his conduct, and his unfeigned distrust and diffidence
of his own opinions."

But if his powers of oratory had been in some mea-
sure impaired by age, the authority of character had
only ripened with his years. He had been a long stand-
ing proof of the fallacy of the assertion, that without
connexion with a party, no man can attain political im-
portance ; and the " moral compulsion" which he exer-
cised continually strengthened. Here he was sure of his
conclusions, and neither in word or deed was there any
doubt or indecision. " It is the fashion to speak of Wil-
bertorce," said one of the heads of the Colonial Office,

1825.

LETTER TO HIS SONS.

271

whom in his later years he had been compelled to weary
with his demands of justice for his clients, " as a gentle,
yielding character, but I can only say that he is the most
obstinate, impracticable fellow with whom I ever had to
do." A friend met him once returning from an audience
with one of the ministers, with whom he had remon-
strated on an improper appointment — the nomination of
a man of notoriously immoral character to a responsible
office abroad. " I conceived," he said, " that the honour
of the country was involved, and therefore I plainly told
him my mind, and that he wrould have to answer here-
after for his choice, but he was so angry that I thought
he would have knocked me down."

Such a man could not bid farewell to public life with-
out much observation from his fellows, and without
being followed into his retirement by the sincere regret
of multitudes.

To two of his sons who had requested him to send
them his last frank, he wrote on the day of his retirement.

TO ROBERT ISAAC WILBERFORCE, ESQ. AND SAMUEL WILBER-
FORCE, ESQ. ORIEL COLLEGE, OXFORD.

" My dear boys,

When Charles the First wras on the very point of ex-
changing, as I trust, a temporal for an eternal crown, he
was forced to be short, so he said but one word — and
now I have but a moment in which to use my pen, and
therefore, my dear boys, 1 also will adopt his language,
and add as he did, REMEMBER.— You can fill up the
chasm. I will only add, that with constant wishes and
prayers for your usefulness, comfort, and honour here,
and for glory, honour, and immortality for you hereafter,
I remain,

Ever your most affectionate father,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

One more extract in a higher tone will complete the
exhibition of his feelings. After speaking in glowing
language of the "full harvest" younger men might live to

272

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1825.

see, from " the good seed now sowing in this highly-
favoured land and its dependencies, let me check," he
continues, " this random sally of the imagination ; and
for you, though much younger than me, as well as for
myself, let me recollect that we may humbly hope,
through the infinite mercies of our God and Saviour, to
behold all the joys and glories that I have been antici-
pating for the generations to come, but to behold them
from a higher elevation, and through a purer medium.
We are not told that Moses was to experience after
death any thing different from mankind in general ; and
we know that he took part in the events of this lower
world, and on the mount of transfiguration talked with
Christ concerning his death which he was to undergo at
Jerusalem. And I love, my dear friend, to dwell on this
idea, that after our departure from the scene of our
earthly pilgrimage, we shall witness the developement of
the plans we may have formed for the benefit of our fel-
low-creatures; the growth and fruitage of the good
principles we have implanted and cultivated in our chil-
dren; and above all, the fulfilment of the prayers we
have poured forth for them, in the large effusions on
them of that heavenly grace, which above all things we
have implored as their portion. It is almost, I fear, to
touch too tender a string, but there is one within my
breast also, which vibrates in exact unison with yours ;
and may I add, that I cannot doubt our own dear chil-
dren are now taking a tender interest in all that con-
cerns the real happiness of those parents, the value of
whose Christian instruction, and prayers, and tears, they
are in a situation to estimate more justly, and therefore
to feel for them a more lively gratitude, than while they
were our fellow-travellers through this transitory wrorld.
I must no longer trespass on my slender stock of eye-
sight, but say, farewell."

When Mr. Wilberforce quitted parliament he deter-
mined to withdraw from London altogether. His tem-
porary retirement near Uxbridge was exchanged, there-
fore, for a freehold residence at Highwood Hill, a
pleasant spot, just " beyond the disk of the metropolis."

1825.

HIS PRIVATE LIFE.

273

" We have bought a house about ten miles north of
London," he tells Mr. Gisborne. " I shall be a little
Zemindar there; 140 acres of land, cottages, of my
own, &c."

His feelings when purchasing this place are expressed
in his comments on the habits of a friend. " How ra-
tional is his mode of life ! Domestic charities sweeten-
ing and cheering the defilements of worldly affairs. I
partake in his longing for repose ; and oh may I be ena-
bled more and more to walk during the years which
may yet remain for me in the fear of the Lord, and in
the comfort of the Holy Ghost." " Oh may I only walk
with God during my closing years, and then where is of
little consequence."

His new purchase was not yet ready for the reception
of his family, and he spent the spring of 1825 in the quiet
of his Uxbridge cottage, and rejoiced to find more time
than heretofore for miscellaneous reading.

Many of his friends were now again his guests, and
the notice of these visits in which he delighted, occupies
a large share of his Diary. " March 24th. Inglis and two
Thorntons came in the evening — stayed all next day.
Inglis extremely entertaining, and most kind. Not out
of my dressing-room when they went, but Inglis chatted
with me, and the girls shook hands. Sir Stamford and
Lady Raffles, and Dr. Morrison the Chinese scholar,
came between one and two — Lord Gambier called, and
we had an entertaining confabulation. Ward dined, and
we had a very interesting evening. Good Morrison
strongly censuring the lukewarmness of Christians, which
prevents their devoting themselves to God's service, as
missionaries for China. His plan that persons should
become ministers of Chinese, and then settle on the
borders. The Chinese a reading people ; and he thinks
by degrees you would introduce your knowledge and

religion. Dear- seems touched ; may God direct

him. Singular criminal law of the Battas, by which
persons committing great crimes are sentenced to be eat
up alive; the injured party having the first choice — the

274

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1825.

ear claimed and eat, &c, until the mass fall on. The
coup de grace, except in strong cases, given early.
When Sir Stamford contended against the practice, the
people urged, 1 what defence can we have for our mo-
rals? April 18th. I fear that I am wasting my precious
time, and the night is coming fast with me. Oh may I
strive to be ever abounding in the work of the Lord.
May He enable me to commence some useful work.
30th. When breakfast was just over my attached old
friend Creyke came over in a chaise and announced his
staying till four. To so kind a friend I owe much more
than the sacrifice of a single day. Made the time less a
blank by getting him to read with me W. Whitmore's
speech on the Corn Laws. Evening Mr. and Mrs. North,
and Leslie Forster, and Buxton, and Calthorpe arrived.
Much talk. May 20th. Butterworth dropped in with
Professor Tholuck from Berlin."

A part of the summer he spent in visits to his old
friends, with many of whom he had much delightful in-
tercourse, and early in November, found himself once
more at Bath, where he complains as usual of interrup-
tion, though even here he kept the same vigilant watch
upon himself as he maintained in his more private hours.

" Hearing Macaulay's Abstract of the Papers laid be-
fore Parliament about the Slaves ; a most useful work.
How he shames me ! Yet my eyes could not perform
it, or any thing that requires eyesight. Too much time
taken, and interest too, in Walter Scott's Heart of Mid
Lothian. Yet I only hear it in afternoon and evening.
Much the best of his novels that I have heard. Jeanie
Deans a truly Christian character, and beautiful, as far
as it goes. Yet I have been tempted to bestow some
eyesight and time upon it, which should have been better
employed." Never scarcely did he lay down these fas-
cinating volumes without repeating his complaint " that
they should have so little moral or religious object.
They remind me of a giant spending his strength in
cracking nuts. I would rather go to render up my ac-
count at the last day, carrying up with me 6 The Shep-

1825.

HOUSE OF COMMONS RECOLLECTIONS.

275

herd of Salisbury Plain,' than bearing the load of all
those volumes, full as they are of genius.

With these are mingled other entries full of pregnant
intimations of his state of mind. " Butterworth break-
fasted ; full of matter and good works — all activity ;
God bless him ! Dear Simons in full feather, but too wild,
and in prayer too familiar. Saw a delightful letter from
Bishop Heber — 200 native converts, and he never saw
meeker Christians, or of more intense and touching
piety." An ardent love for the Liturgy grew manifestly
with his years. He breaks out this winter in a letter to
a friend, into a warm expression of his " delight in the
principles of our various formularies. Though they are
sometimes unconsciously possessed and used, and their
nature and qualities often misconceived, and at times
calumniated; yet in circumstances of depression and
desolation their sanative excellence displays itself like
some rich unguent that had been frozen and torpid ; they
begin to emit their healing fragrance, and to supply an
antidote to the poison, that would otherwise consume the
vitals."

Leaving Bath in December he spent a few days with
Mr. Harford at Blaize Castle; and here " he slid," says
his host, "insensibly into continuous descriptions of par-
liamentary scenes with which he had been connected.

1 When Lord Londonderry was in his ordinary mood,
he was very tiresome, so slow and heavy, his sentences
only half formed, his matter so confused, like what is said
of the French army in the Moscow retreat when horse,
foot, and carriages of all sorts were huddled together,
helter-skelter; yet when he was thoroughly warmed and
excited, he was often very fine, very statesman-like, and
seemed to rise quite into another man."

' Our general impression of Sheridan was, that he
came to the House with his flashes prepared and ready
to be let off. He avoided encountering Pitt in unforeseen
debating, but when forced to it usually came off well.'

1 Fox was often truly wonderful. He would begin at
full tear, and roll on for hours together without tiring
either himself or us.'

276

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1825.

' Pitt talked a great deal among his friends. Fox in
general society was quiet and unassuming. Sheridan
was a jolly companion, and told good stories, but has
been overrated as a wit by Moore.'

'Fox was truly amiable in private life, and great al-
lowances ought to be made for him : his father was a
profligate politician, and allowed him as much money to
gamble with as ever he wished.'

" I asked him if he remembered the miser Elwes in the
House of Commons'? 'Perfectly; and that question
reminds me of a curious incident which one day befell
that strange being. In my younger days we often went
to the House in full dress, on nights, for example, when
we were any of us going to the opera. Bankes, on an
occasion of this kind, was seated next Elwes, who was
leaning his head forward just at the moment when
Bankes rose hastily to leave his seat, and the hilt of his
sword happening to come in contact with the miser's wig,
which he had probably picked off some scare-crow, it
was unconsciously borne away by Bankes, who walked
in his stately w7ay down the House, followed by Elwes
full of anxiety to regain his treasure. The House was
in a roar of merriment, and for a moment Bankes looked
about him wondering exceedingly what had happened.
The explanation w7as truly amusing, when he became
conscious of the sword-hilt which he had acquired.'

" As we were one day talking of devotional poetry,
'Dr. Johnson,' said he, 'has passed a very sweeping
condemnation on it, and has given his opinion, that suc-
cess in this species of composition is next to impossible.
And the reason which he gives for it is, that all poetry
implies exaggeration, but the objects of religion are so
great in themselves, as to be incapable of augmentation.
One would think however that religion ought to be the
very region of poetry. It relates to subjects which,
above all others, agitate the hopes and fears of mankind ;
it embodies every thing that can melt by its tenderness,
or elevate by its sublimity ; and it has a natural tendency
to call forth in the highest degree, feelings of gratitude
and thankfulness for inestimable mercies. His prejudice,

1825.

LEVITY OF FRENCH CHARACTER.

277

poor man, appears to me to resolve itself into the same
cause, which prevented his deriving comfort from the
cultivation of religion. The view wrhich he took of
Christianity acted on his fears, it inspired him with ter-
ror, it led him to superstition, but it did not animate his
affections, and therefore it neither duly influenced his
conduct, nor imparted comfort to his feelings.'

" We were talking of the levity and gaiety of heart
of the French, even under the severest misfortunes. This
drew forth an anecdote, which had been related to him
by Mr. Pitt. 4 Shortly after the tragical death of Marie
Antoinette, M. Perigord, an emigrant of some conse-
quence, who had made Mr. Pitt's acquaintance at Ver-
sailles, took refuge in England, and on coming to Lon-
don went to pay his respects in Downing Street. The
conversation naturally turned upon the bloody scenes of
the French Revolution; on their fatal consequences to
social order; and in particular on the barbarity with
which the unfortunate Queen had been treated. The
Frenchman's feelings were quite overcome, and he ex-
claimed amidst violent sobbing, "Ah Monsieur Pitt, la
pauvre Reine ! la pauvre Reine !" These words had
scarcely been uttered, when he jumped up as if a new
idea suddenly possessed him, and looking towards a little
dog which came with him, he exclaimed, " Cependant,
Monsieur Pitt, il faut vous faire voir mon petit chien
danser." Then pulling a small kit out of his pocket, he
began dancing about the room to the sound of his little
instrument, and calling to the dog, " Fanchon, Fanchon,
dansez, dansez," the little animal instantly obeyed, and
they cut such capers together that the minister's gravity
was quite overcome, and he burst into a loud laugh,
hardly knowing whether he was most amused or asto-
nished.' "

The "love of ease" never tainted his old age. He had
entered upon private life with the remark, "A man need
not be idle because he ceases to be loquacious." Yet
now that he had retired from parliament he declined
invitations to participate in public meetings, and the
presentation of addresses even on the subject which ha

vol. ii, 24

278

LIFE OF W1LBERFORCE.

1825.

so long engrossed, his mind and affections and he de-
clared himself unwilling to " take the lead when I can
no longer direct the measures." " It seems like wishing
to retain the reins when I can no longer hold them."
Yet rather than throw any damp upon the cause, he
yielded to the earnest solicitations of his friends, and took
the chair at the meeting of the Anti-Slavery Society in
this year.

" Alas !" he complains at the beginning of the new
year, " life is stealing away. It ought to shock me
to think how all are at work endeavouring to pro-
mote the poor slaves' wrell-being. But all my friends
advised retiring. Well, let me at least try to act in
the spirit of that verse of this evening's family reading,
' Be ye always abounding in the work of the Lord.' 99
He now occupied until the spring a house at Becken-
ham, which had been lent him by a friend, where he
enjoyed much of that retirement which he so long
had coveted. " Few callers here. I have my time
more to myself than I can expect almost anywhere."
" May I especially strive against that fatal trifling away
part of the closing hour at night. Let me employ an
hour in spiritual exercises, prayer, meditation, Scripture
reading, and other serious books, as Lives, &c." Here
his rarer intercourse with society w7as under the same
rules as when he moved in the full stream of London life.
" Mr. and Mrs. W. came in the evening. How little did I
improve the opportunity, though indeed I know not what
could be done, but to show civility, and that I had no
horns or tail !" Through the Christmas holidays his family
all gathered round him ; and with them and visits from
his friends in London, his time was fully occupied. His
thoughts too turned watchfully to the progress of the cause
with which his life had been identified; and he was often
busy with his pen in guiding the decisions of its chief con-
ductors. " Macaulay giving me useful intelligence. We
differing about Female Anti-Slavery Associations. Bab-
ington with me, grounding it on St. Paul. I own I cannot
relish the plan. All private exertions for such an object
become their character, but for ladies to meet, to publish,

1826.

PRIVATE LIFE.

279

to go from house to house stirring up petitions — these
appear to me proceedings unsuited to the female cha-
racter as delineated in Scripture. And though we
should limit the interference of our ladies to the cause of
justice and humanity, I fear its tendency would be to
mix them in all the multiform warfare of political life."

CHAPTER XIII.

Extracts from Diary — Life at Highwood Hill — Tranquillity of his age —
Various sketches of Character.

A few extracts from his Diary will exhibit in a fami-
liar view the tone of his mind and feeling at this period
of his career.

44 April 10th. The Bishop of called on me, and I

walked with him till almost four, when I had barely time
to write a letter to C. Grant about teaching the evidence
of the Christian religion to the young men educating for
writers. Greatly pleased with ; he in a very em-
phatic manner begged my prayers, and said he should
reckon much on them :" they were promised ; 44 and
never since," he said shortly before his death, 44 to the
best of my belief, omitted for a single day."

44 12th. Hearing the Workhouse Boy's Letters, given
to me by Mrs. Samuel Hoare. Oh how humiliating they
are when I reflect on the few advantages he enjoyed,
and the improvement made of them ! But what a bles-
sed proof of the grace of God ! What religion but
Christianity can produce such blessed effects — such ex-
tinction of self — such a desire to please God — to perform
the relative duties to his unkind father — such elevation of
soul with so little knowledge !

44 22d. Bath. Hearing Old Mortality after dinner : the
story of the Covenanters. It has made me sit up too
late, and interested me too deeply ; Oimoi ! Scott is

280

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1826.

certainly a distinct exhibiter of human characters and
affections. But I hope his delineation of the Camero-
nians is too dark, and more especially his making them
scruple at no means when the end is good, (as wronging
Edith Bellenden of her right to buy the old hypocritical
scoundrel, Basil Oliphant).

" 5th. With to Quakers' meeting. We first sat

still (they all with their hats on) for about twenty mi-
nutes, then slowly rose and prayed for about five

minutes an opening prayer. Then he preached as we
should say for about an hour, (no text, and for want per-
haps of divisions it appeared rambling, and left no de-
posit, only impression) then after a short pause, notice was
given that service at six, and neighbours shook hands
with each other. We all came away thankful that not
Quakers. No Scripture reading, no Common Prayer.
The Prayer himself kneels, the rest stand. Afternoon
to Chapel : an excellent sound sermon.

" 12th. Heard from dear Lord , of his son's

death, but in such a state of mind as to cause joy as well
as peace.

" 15th. Finished Peveril — the humours of the unprin-
cipled Buckingham — the acuteness of Charles — his easi-
ness of temper : unprincipled, wild, and varying as the
winds, admirably delineated. The Cavalier character in
broad and strong colours, well done but no nicety. I am
glad we have finished the work ; this class of writing is
too interesting ; it makes other studies insipid, or rather
other light reading : but yet much to be learned from
this class of writings, which I shall state in a separate
piece."

On the 15th of June he took possession of his house
at Highwood Hill, with the characteristic entry — " Late
when got home, and had a too hasty prayer for first set-
tlement in a new house — all in confusion." He was now
here only for a wTeek, and then went on into Suffolk.

" 26th. Dined at Samuel Hoare's at Hampstead, with
Dr. and Mrs. Lushington, and William Allen, who still
goes on doing good. Miss Joanna Baillie came in the
evening — so like the Doctor, as quite to affect me. Dr.

1827.

REVISITS NATIVE COUNTY.

281

Lushington acting a most important part in changing the
condition of the coloured class through the whole West
Indies, by contending against the oppression exercised
towards Lecesne and D'Escoffery. Oh what a glorious
thing it is for a man to be a member of a free country !
He and Miss Baillie were asked if they believed in a par-
ticular Providence. ' Yes,' they replied, * on great oc-
casions.' As unphilosophical as unscriptural — must not
the smallest links be as necessary for maintaining the
continuity, as the greatest? Great and little belong to
our littleness, but there is no great and little to God."

The chief feature of 1827, was a progress which he
made after an interval of almost twenty years through his
native county. He had a strong wish, as he told one of
his cotemporaries, "to revisit the scenes of his childhood,
and early youth." From Yoxall Lodge, where he halted
for a time, he wrote to Mr. Stephen. "Well as I thought
I knew this place, and much as I admired it, I never
saw its riches displayed in such overflowing profusion.
I never was here before till late in the year, or saw the
first foliage of the magnificent oak contrast with the dark
holly, the flowering furze, and the horse chestnut." " A fine
tree always seems to me like a community in itself, with
the countless insects which it shelters and nourishes in
its roots and branches ; it is quite a merciful ordination
of Providence, that the forests of our country (to which
as a maritime nation wre look for protection and com-
merce) should be so admirable for their beauty. Instead
of a beautiful ornament, they might have been a dis-
agreeable object to which we wrere compelled to be in-
debted."

About this period many of his letters are coloured
more or less by the tone of thought excited by the death
of Lord Liverpool and Mr. Canning. " Whatever span
of life may yet be left to us," he said to Hannah More,
" may we both be using our remaining days in prepara-
tion for the last. My friends are daily dropping around
me. The companions of my youth, then far stronger
and more healthy than I was, are worn out, while I still re-

24*

282

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1827.

main." And to Mr. Babington he says, " When you last
wrote to me, you were under the influence of a feeling
that has of late been called into exercise with me also :
that which is excited by seeing our old friends dropping
off one after another while we are left behind.

1 Haec data poena diu viventibus, ut renovata
Semper clade domus, multisque in luctibus, inque
Perpetuo maerore et nigra veste senescant.'

But how different are the emotions with which we may
regard the deaths of our friends from those of the hea-
then poet ! And it is one of the indirect rewards of such
religious principles and habits as lead us to select our
friends from the excellent ones of the earth, that we are
not compelled to seek for comfort by forgetting the com-
panions of our choice that are taken from us, but may
follow thern in our thoughts and sympathies into that
paradise into which we trust they have been received,
and may hope at no distant period to see them once
more."

Something too of the same tone, blended touchingly
with the liveliest affections, may be traced in a letter to
a son on the continent.

" York, July 22, Sunday, at Mr. Gray's,
a true Christian and old friend.

" My very dear ,

It fills my heart with thankfulness, to be assured that
my dear children are on this day withdrawn from
worldly occupations. I fancy to myself my dear, my

very dear , (for dear at home becomes very dear

abroad,) calling up before his mind's eye the images of
absent friends, and I am encouraged by a better feeling
than vanity, to cherish the hope that your old father has
a place among them. Even were it a common day, (a
week-day as it is termed,) writing to you at such a dis-
tance, when the thought that perhaps even at the very
time in which I am addressing you, you may be no
more, the thoughts and feelings of my heart would natu-

1827.

RETURN TO HIGHWOOD.

283

rally be of a serious colour ; and when in relation to all
my friends present or absent, my mind on this day is
conversant with their highest interests, it must be pecu-
liarly so in communicating with a very dear child who
is perhaps a thousand miles off, and of whom I have not
heard for several weeks. Whilst thinking of your geo-
graphical track, if I may so term it, I am led to the idea
of your spiritual track — your track home, as it is phrased
on the globes in the line that describes the voyages of
our great circumnavigators. My mind has been the
rather draw7n to this reflection by yesterday's having
been the birth-day of our beloved and, I confidently hope,
sainted Barbara — already joined by our sweet little
grandchild. There is something very affecting to my
mind in this way of considering life, as a voyage in
which 1 track out' and ' track home' designate its opposite
periods of youth and old age. Oh what cause have I
for gratitude in the blessed influences of the Divine
Spirit which has directed your course, and kept you
from the rocks on which many, alas ! make shipwreck !
And He will still I trust watch over, and guide, and
guard you even unto the end ; and if it be consistent with
the Divine will may I be spared to see you engaged in
that most dignified of all services, that of superintending
the best interests of your fellow-creatures, and guiding
and gaurding them through this dangerous world to the
haven of everlasting happiness and peace, to the rest
that remaineth for the people of God. May God bless
you. I am ever

Your most affectionate father,

W. WlLBERFORCE."

He returned to Highwood in the height of the "Indian
summer." The next morning was " delightful, dewy
like autumn, but the sun full out and warm as summer."
This was a very picture of his state of mind, with some
of the dews of autumn, but still brightened by a noon-
day sun. He had not yet become familiar with his
Highwood residence, and his return to it not unnaturally
weighed somewhat on his spirits. " It is so long since I

284

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1827.

was here, that I really feel a stranger in my own house.
I have had little leisure lately for reading, or rather for
hearing, my life has been spent in chatteration, and I
feel strangely awkward in returning to my ordinary
duties. My spirits quite sink at the idea of being here
when my boys leave me. Oh how I long for a quiet
lodging anywhere, where I might live as a collegian,
. having every thing found for me, and I only trying to do
a little good with what powers are left me, and to work
out my own salvation ! Oh let me not distrust that
mercy of God which has never failed me. I want to
allot a day to devotional exercises."

These were not his habitual feelings; they were the
diapason tones of a mind of infinite compass; but for the
most part his latter years were eminently bright and
cheerful. Never indeed was he more evidently happy
than in that calm old age on which he entered with the
elasticity of youth, and the simplicty of childhood. Gay,
busy, social, and affable, tender without softness, and
witty without sting, he w?as still the delight of old and
young ; and whether he was joining in the " animated
talk amongst the young hands," or discoursing with his
remaining equals, it was in the busiest and happiest
groups that he was always to be found. His days at
Highwrood were very regularly spent. He rose soon
after seven, spent the first hour and a half in his closet ;
then dressed, hearing his reader for three quarters of an
hour, and by half-past nine met his household for family
worship ; always a great thing in his esteem. At this he
read a portion of the Scriptures, generally of the New
Testament, in course, and explained and enforced it,
often with a natural and glow7ing eloquence, always with
affectionate earnestness, and an extraordinary knowledge
of God's word.

After family prayers, which occupied about half an
hour, he never failed to sally forth for a few7 minutes

" To take the air and hear the thrushes sing."

He enjoyed this stroll exceedingly. r- A delightful

1827.

HABITS AT HIGHWOOD.

285

morning. Walked out and saw the most abundant
dew-drops sparkling in the sunbeams on the gazon.
How it calls forth the devotional feelings in the morning
when the mind is vacant from worldly business, to see
all nature pour forth, as it were, its song of praise to the
great Creator and Preserver of all things ! I love to re-
peat Pslams civ. ciii. cxlv. &c. at such a season."

His habits had long since been formed to a late hour
of breakfast. During his public life his early hours alone
were undisturbed, and he still thought that meeting late
tended to prolong in others the time of morning prayer
and meditation. Breakfast was still prolonged and ani-
mated by his unwearied powers of conversation, and
when congenial friends were gathered round him, their
discussions lasted sometimes till noon. From the break-
fast-room he went till post time to his study, where he
was commonly employed long about his letters. If they
were finished he turned to some other business, never
enduring to be idle all the day. " H. is a man," he says
after a wholly interrupted morning, " for whom I feel
unfeigned esteem and regard, but it quite molests me to
talk for a whole morning. Nothing done, and no acces-
sion of intellect." Soon after his retirement he was in-
vited as an idle man to an amateur concert. " What !"
he exclaimed, " music in a morning? Why it would be
as bad as dram-drinking." Yet his love for music was
as strong as ever. This very year he speaks of himself
as " quite overpowered by the Hallelujah Chorus in the
Messiah, a flood of tears ensued, and the impression on
my mind remained through the day." But a long-con-
tinued conscientious use of time had stamped its value
deeply on his mind. He was planning in this leisure
season some further employment of his pen ; a work on
the Epistles of St. Paul, especially. " I have read
Whateley's Essays on Scriptural Difficulties. That on
St. Paul's Epistles exactly my own thoughts twenty
years ago, and often about to be published." Weak
health and his infirmity of sight still defeated his inten-
tion, and neither this work nor an additional chapter to

286

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1827.

that on Christianity, in which he wished to address the
old, were ever actually completed for the press.

About three o'clock, when the post had gone, he sal-
lied forth into the garden, humming often to himself, in
the gladness of his heart, some favourite tune, alone, or
in the company of some few friends, or with his reader.
Here he would pace up and down some sheltered sunny
walk, rejoicing especially in one which had been formed
for him by a son, and was called ever after, with some
hint of affection, by his name.

"The picture which the dead leave on the minds of
their survivors," says Mr. Gurney, " is not always lively
or distinct. Although we may have fondly loved them,
and may hallow the memory of their good qualities, we
cannot always summon their image before us ; but J
venture to express my conviction, that no one who has
been accustomed to observe Wilberforce will ever find
the slightest difficulty in picturing him on the tablet of
the mind. Who that knew him, can fail to recall the
rapid movements of his somewhat diminutive form, the
illumination of his expressive countenance, and the nim-
ble finger with which he used to seize on every little ob-
ject which happened to adorn or diversify his path ?
Much less can we forget his vivacious wit — so playful,
yet harmless ; the glow of his affections ; the urbanity of
his manners ; and the wondrous celerity with which he
was ever wont to turn from one bright thought to another.
Above all, however, his friends will never cease to re-
member that peculiar sunshine which he threw over a
company by the influence of a mind perpetually tuned
to love and praise. I am ready to think there could be
no greater luxury than that of roaming with him in soli-
tude over green fields and gardens, and drawing out of
his treasury things new and old."

This was most true of his hour of daily exercise.
Who that ever joined him in it cannot see him as he
walked round his garden at Highwood ? Now in ani-
mated and even playful conversation, and then drawing
from his copious pockets (to contain Dalrymple's State

1827.

HABITS AT HIGHWOOD.

287

Papers was their standard measure) some favourite
volume or other; a Psalter, a Horace, a Shakspeare, or
Cowper, and reading, and reciting, or "refreshing" pas-
sages ; and then catching at long-stored flower-leaves as
the wind blew them from the pages, or standing before
a favourite gum cistus to repair the loss. Then he wTould
point out the harmony of the tints, the beauty of the pen-
cilling, the perfection of the colouring, and run up all
into those ascriptions of praise to the Almighty which
were ever willing forth from his grateful heart. He
loved flowers with all the simple delight of childhood.
He would hover from bed to bed over his favourites;
and when he came in, even from his shortest walk, de-
posited a few that he had gathered, safely in his room
before he joined the breakfast table. Often would he
say, as he enjoyed their fragrance, "How good is God
to us ! What should we think of a friend who had fur-
nished us with a magnificent house and all we needed,
and then coming in to see that all had been provided ac-
cording to his wishes, should be hurt to find that no
scents had been placed in the rooms? Yet so has God
dealt with us. Surely flowers are the smiles of his
goodness."

He stayed out till near dinner, which was never after
five, and early in the evening lay down for an hour and
a half. He would then rise for a new7 term of existence,
and sparkle through a long evening to the astonishment
of those who expected, at his time of life, to see his
mind and spirits flag, even if his strength was not ex-
hausted. The whole evening was seldom spent in con-
versation, for he had commonly some book in "family
reading" which was a text for multiplied digressions full
of incident and illustration. His own hand has drawn a
picture of these rational and happy evenings.

" I did not put down my pen," he concludes a letter,
after annexing as the date "Friday night, forty minutes
after eleven," "till the announcement of dinner rendered
it necessary. After dinner I lay down, and through the
kind care of my friends wTas suffered to sleep, as too
commonly it happens, for an hour and three quarters/'

288

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1827.

I then came down, and after a little business heard the
young Macaulays read passages from one of those nu-
merous Annuals which the wealth and animation of the
present day supplies for interesting the faculties without
labour or effort. We went to prayers, and after about
half an hour, surely well spent, we returned to the com-
mon room and renewed our reading, which I just now
stopped, finding how late it was, and being in the singu-
larly favoured circumstances of an old fellow, who is
allowed to say, 6 Come, or go, do this, or do that,' with-
out the appearance of frefulness. Then by saying,

* Surely you will not think of finishing your letter at so
late an hour,' reminded me that it was still on the stocks,
and was to be launched into the post stream to-morrow
morning. I owe however so much respect to her rea-
sonable remonstrances, as to endeavour to abridge all
that I might have added if I had taken up my pen in
more favourable circumstances.

One word of what we have been reading — an article
in one of the Annuals on Gibbon and Madame de Stael,
and latterly also on Voltaire. You remember, I doubt
not, the last sentence in Gibbon's Autobiography; I have
engaged my young friend to write under it Dr. Watts's
beautiful hymn, ending with the line — ' Foretells a bright
rising again.' This is one of the * Hymns for Children,'
but surely it is for the children of God, for the heirs of
glory; and when you compare it, either in point of good
sense, or imagination, or sterling value, or sustaining
hope, with the considerations and objects which feed the
fancy, or exercise the understanding or affections of the
most celebrated men who have engaged the attention or
called forth the eulogiums of the literati of the last cen-
tury, you are irresistibly forced to exclaim in the spirit
of my grand favourite,

1 O happy Hymnist, O unhappy bard!1

Farewell, my dear

Ever affectionately yours,

W. W 1LBERFORCE."

1827.

HIS LOVE OF BOOKS.

289

As the evening wore away his thoughts took com-
monly this colour. After prayers as he walked up and
down the room, he would have read to him missionary
accounts, and journals of what was done by foreign
Christians. This was his usual Sunday evening reading.
" It is the most deeply interesting of all subjects, to ob-
serve how the contest is going on between light and
darkness, what different spots of this rebellious province
are being brought into subjection to their rightful Sove-
reign."

His love of books was still extreme. Though he could
read little continuously he would pick out the pith of most
works by a rapid glancing through the pages, and in
every house he visited, he knew commonly within two
days the full amount of its literary stores. His great
complaint against his feeble eyesight was that it pre-
vented his maintaining an accurate acquaintance with
the great writers of antiquity. There were few modern
works which he did not either thus run through, or have
read to him, except 44 mere novels;" and his short criti-
cisms show how little the acuteness of his mind was
blunted. 44 Reading Lawrie Todd, but disliked and left
it off — a stupidly told story — attempt at delineations of
character very indifferently executed — no touches of na-
ture or marked discriminations. Hearing Hallam's Con-
stitutional History of England in Quarterly. Southey a
bitter critic, and works him with great acuteness and
force." 44 Hearing Lord Orford's Memoirs of George the
Second's reign — very bitter, and prejudices great, yet
accounts curious." 44 Scott's novels useful as the works
of a master in general nature, and illustrative of the
realities of past life. Looked at Pelham, most flippant,
wicked, unfeeling delineations of life — to read such
scenes without being shocked must be injurious. I am

sorry read it. For very shame I would not have

it read to me." 44 We finished Sir Jonah Barrington's
Autobiography. A true picture of a thorough man of
the world, who professing to believe in Christianity,
shows throughout his whole life not one single reference
in thought or feeling, word or deed, to any Scriptural

vol. ii. 25

290

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1827.

principle or precept. On the other hand, the Scripture
says, * Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do ail to the
glory of God.' "

In such occupations as these he would go on till very
late; for from long use in parliament, " the midnight hour
was his zenith, and like the beautiful cereus with all her
petals expanded, he was then in full bloom."* This was
especially the case when old and valued friends had
gathered round him. Old age had scarcely lessened his
relish for society, but it had drawn still closer the bonds
of his affection for his early friends. " As I grow older,"
he told Mr. Gisborne, " 1 find myself growing more at-
tached to such of the companions of my youth as are
still left to me; and they are, I need not say, still more
valued, when they are such as we may humbly hope we
shall meet again in a better world." " When I was a
younger man I was tempted to make intellectual conver-
sation my all in all; but now I can truly say, that I pre-
fer the society of the simplest person who fears God, to
the best company of a contrary kind." This happy
preference was the result of early watchfulness. After
receiving a " very clever and entertaining man" many
years before, " I must record the truth," he says, " 1 sel-
dom have found myself more unspiritual, more indisposed
to prayer, than after my party had left me. I could not
somehow raise my mind to heavenly objects, alas, and
so it has been partly this morning also. Is it that the
society of an able worldly man is hereby indicated to be
unsafe to me ? I had a sort of struggle about inviting
him, as if intimating the wish to be acquainted with an
irreligious man, w'as showing too great a deference for
talent. Is it a punishment that I have since felt so cold
and wandering in my mind? I would not be nervous
and superstitious, but I ought to watch and keep my
heart with all diligence. O let me deal honestly with
myself. Let me give up, however entertaining, even
however instructive, whatever it seems the intimation of
God that I should relinquish. O Lord, cause me to be

• Mr. Gurney's sketch.

1827. bishop of Calcutta's recollections. 291

so full of love, and zeal, and grateful loyalty, and child-
like affection for my Saviour, that I may love them that
love Thee; and may I thus become more in my tempers
and frames of mind an inhabitant of heaven."

In great measure had this prayer been answered.

" Do invite to come and see you," was the request

this year of some of his family, naming one of the first
men of the age for intellectual powers. He made no
answer at the moment, but said afterwards in private,
" I am sorry not to do what you wish, but so false and
hollow as I think the man, I could have no comfort in
his company. Only think what truth is; it is the very
principle of gravitation in the moral world." Yet there
was nothing of austerity about him. The playfulness of
his good-tempered humour would often gild even serious
remarks.

It is not a little interesting to trace the impression he
now made on those who stayed with him at Highwood.
" I remember," says the present Bishop of Calcutta, " his
walking with me up and down his drawing-room some
time beyond midnight ; his figure is now in my mind,
his benevolent eye, his kind, considerate manner of
speaking, his reverence for Scripture, his address, the
pauses he made in his walk when he had any thing em-
phatic to say. I recollect one sentiment was, that the
passages so frequent in Scripture, importing the unwil-
lingness of the Almighty that the sinner should perish,
the invitations addressed to him to return, the remon-
strances with him on his unbelief, &c. must be interpre-
ted strictly and literally, or they would appear to be a
mockery of man's misery, and to involve the most fear-
ful imputations on the Divine character. Evasions of
the force of such passages were, he thought, highly in-
jurious, and went to sap the whole evidence and bearing
of the Christian revelation.

" He had a delicate yet penetrating and microscopic
insight into character. Observations minute, accurate,
graphical, and often with a tinge of humour, dropped
from him in conversation, and when quiet in his family
he wTou!d imitate the voice and manner of the person he

292

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1828.

was describing (generally some public man) in a way to
provoke profuse merriment. Then he would check him-
self and throw in some kind remark. His charity indeed
in judging of others, is a trait in his Christian character,
which forces itself on my recollection. Of his benevo-
lence I need not speak ; but his kind construction of
doubtful actions, his charitable language towards those
from whom he most widely differed, his thorough forget-
fulness of little affronts, were fruits of that general
benevolence which continually appeared. The nearer
you observed him the more the habit of his mind ap-
peared obviously to be modest and lowly. He was in
as little measure as possible elated by the love and esteem
of almost the whole civilized world, which long before
his death had been fixed upon him. It required some
management to draw him out in conversation, and there-
fore some of those who saw him only once, might go
away disappointed. But if he was lighted up, and in a
small circle, where he was entirely at his ease, his
powers of conversation were prodigious; a natural elo-
quence was poured out, strokes of gentle playfulness and
satire fell on all sides, and the company were soon ab-
sorbed in admiration. It commonly took only one visit
to gain over the most prejudiced stranger."

The following letter is an instance of this kind. Its
writer came to Highwood Hill prejudiced against him
by some who had maligned his character. After spend-
ing two days at the house, she wrote to a sister.

" Highwood Hill, April 12, 1828.
" You would hardly believe, my dear sister, that I find
it much more difficult to write from this quiet country
place, than from London. Yet I have thought of you
more than ever, and how have I wished for you here,
where there is so much that would interest and charm
you ! It is now past twelve, yet I am sitting up to finish
what I began this morning ; in no one moment before
have I been able to do so, and I write after such a
fatiguing day, that I feel as if all my powers of express-
ing myself were gone. Indeed I think I have been in a

1828.

MODE OF LIFE AT HIGHWOOD HILL.

293

delirium all the time that I have stayed here, from the
excitement of being happier than for a long time past.
Yet my happiness cannot be complained of, as it has
consisted so much in watching the admirable conduct
and feelings, and listening to the excellent conversation
which appears to bring religion more near to the heart,
and the heart more near to God.

" I can perfectly believe that those who have not seen
Mr. Wilberforce in his own house, among his own fami-
ly, and who have heard all the stories that have been
told of him, may not give credit to the sincerity and
purity of his intentions, but no one could see him as I
have done without being charmed. I wish I could send
you something of what I have heard in the beautifully
simple explanations that he gives every day of a chapter
that he reads from the Testament. Then if you could
hear him reading, as he does, the poems in the 1 Christian
year !' I shall have much to tell you at some future time,
of sentiments and ideas of his, all so beautiful, and so
true, and so indulgent, for I think nothing more striking
in him than that spirit of general benevolence which
governs all that he says; joined to the extreme beauty
of his voice, it does indeed make him appear 1 to love
whatever he speaks of.' Then he seems so thoroughly
pleased to hear any anecdote in praise of any person
who is talked about, and so ready to make allowance in
others for the faults that he has not a taint of himself.
Oh he is a dear, good, admirable old man ! I have been
praying that I may be enabled to imitate whatever is
imitable in this excellent being ; his talents and attrac-
tions are not to be acquired, but is it not a cheering re-
flection that such principles as his may be gained bv
all ??'

One occupation of his time at Highwood is too cha-
racteristic to be omitted. Assistance to young men of pro-
mise had always been with him a favourile charity, and
the inclination had been strengthened by the evident
harvest he had sometimes reaped. To have been one of
the first who assisted Kirke White would have been re-
ward enough ; but he had seen two others, who owed all
25*

294

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1828.

to him, fill with credit different judicial stations ; and at
this very time the highest honours of one of our Univer-
sities were obtained by two young men, for whose edu-
cation he had in like manner assisted to provide. But
now that he had time, he gave more than merely money ;
he made his house the home of one or two youths, the
expense of whose education he defrayed ; all their holi-
days were spent with him ; and hours of his own time
were profusely given to training and furnishing their
minds. Nor were the poor forgotten ; they were invited
to join in his family worship on the Sunday evening,
and sought out often in their cottages for instruction and
relief.

CHAPTER XIV.

Difficulties in Building Chapel — Loss of Fortune — Retires to his Sons'
Houses — Final Efforts in the Cause of Emancipation.

When he first came to look at Highwood, he was
" most struck by its distance from church — three miles ;"
and it was only on hearing that " a new chapel was pro-
bable," that he entered on the purchase. Three years
had passed, and the hope of a chapel seemed further off
than ever; he resolved therefore to avail himself of the
new Church Building Acts, and erect one on Highwood
Hill if he could obtain the sanction of the Commissioners.

But this good work was not to be completed without
opposition and contention, in the midst of which he emi-
nently manifested in private, as he had long done in
public life, the meekness of true Christian wisdom under
calumny and falsehood.

This most Christian undertaking involved him in cares
and anxieties, subjected him to calumnies and drew him
into controversies which embittered the remainder of his
life, and it was not until a few days after his death, that

1830.

LOSS OP FORTUNE.

295

the chapel which he erected, at an expense of £4000,
was opened for the worship of Almighty God.

Whilst this annoying business was in progress, his
faith in God was proved by another trial. Though his
style of living had always been below his income, he
had never accumulated money. He had retrenched his
expenses to give and not to save ; and he had given
largely and constantly. "You probably know," wras an
incidental testimony to his unseen charity, from a dis-
tant relation soon after his decease, " that it was very
much owing to him that I was enabled during a very
long period of years to live in an independent manner ;
and his tenderness and feeling in conferring obligations
was such that they raised, not mortified, the objects of
them. Whenever I alluded to the subject his usual re-
ply was to this effect, 6 Had our circumstances been
changed, you would have acted towards me as I have
done towards you.' To two others of my family his
liberality laid the foundation of present usefulness, and
I trust of future blessedness."

He had always therefore lived up to his income.

" He feared not once himself to be in need,
Nor cared to hoard for those whom he did breed :
The grace of God he laid up still in store,
Which as a stock he left unto his seed."

* I never intended to do more," he told his eldest son,
" than not exceed my income, Providence having placed
me in a situation, in which my charities of various kinds
were necessarily large. But believe me there is a spe-
cial blessing on being liberal to the poor, and on the
family of those who have been so ; and I doubt not my
children will fare better even in this world, for real hap-
piness, than if I had been saving £20,000 or £30,000 of
what has been given away."

He had felt therefore some inconvenience from " re-
ducing his rents, which were never high, full 37 per
cent.," at a time when his family were most expensive
to him. His property had been further lessened by his
raising a considerable capital in order to embark his

296

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1830.

eldest son, whose health appeared unequal to the prac-
tice of the law, in a large farming speculation, " to be

actually managed'' as he thought " by ," a man in

whose principles and practical acquaintance with the
business, he at that time entertained the highest confi-
dence. The event did not confirm his expectations ;
and in the very month when Mr. Williams's pamphlet*
appeared, he found that to secure the remainder of his
fortune, he must submit to the immediate and very heavy
loss of nearly all the capital which had been invested in
the business, and retrench greatly on his usual style of
living. He makes this entry in his Diary, March 10th.
" A most kind letter from the Bishop of Chester. In-
formed me that at a great meeting of the Commissioners
(for building churches) Williams's attack upon me be-
came the subject of discussion, and that no friend of
mine could have wished more than was said about the
character of both of us, and all in one story. A solitary
walk with the psalmist. Evening quiet." Yet he was
still as free from care as ever, two days after the full
discovery of his loss. Amongst many gratifying in-
stances of his unbroken cheerfulness, an interesting
sample may be found in his renewed intercourse with
Sir James Mackintosh, whom he now met frequently at
Battersea Rise. " Mackintosh came in," he says, " and
sat most kindly chatting with me during my dinner —
what a paragon of a companion he is; quite unequalled !"
" We are spending a little time at this to me deeply in-
teresting place. I always visit the funeral urn — H. T.
Jan. 16th, 1815— M. T. Oct. 12th, 1815. Sir James
Mackintosh and his family now live in one of the houses
which are built upon the ground which Henry (Thorn-
ton) sold on the side opposite to that of C. Grant's house.
He has been sitting chattering to the girls and myself
for above an hour ; and this extraordinary man spends,
they tell me, much of his time in the circulating library

* This was the Vicar of the Parish in which he resided. He had
published an abusive pamphlet accusing Mr. Wilbcrforce of falsehood,
and attributing to him mercenary motives in the erection of the chapel.

1830.

SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.

297

room, at the end of the Common, and chats with the
utmost freedom to all the passengers in the Clapham
stage as he goes and comes from London. It is really
to be regretted that he should thus throw away time so
valuable. But he is at every body's service, and his
conversation is always rich and sparkling."

Mackintosh's own account of this intercourse is pecu-
liarly happy. " Do you remember Madame de Mainte-
notrs exclamation, i Oh the misery of having to amuse
an old king, qui n'est pas amusable !' Now if I were
called upon to describe Wilberforce in one word, 1 should
say he was the most 1 amusable' man I ever met in my
life. Instead of having to think what subjects will interest
him, it is .perfectly impossible to hit on one that does not.
I never saw any one who touched life at so many points ;
and this is the more remarkable in a man wTho is sup-
posed to live absorbed in the contemplation of a future
state. When he was in the House of Commons, he
seemed to have the freshest mind of any man there.
There was all the charm of youth about him. And he
is quite as remarkable in this bright evening of his days
as when I saw him in his glory many years ago."

" His mind," says a deeper observer,* " was of a highly
discursive character ; and it was often extremely amusing
to observe how, while pursuing any particular subject,
he was caught by some bright idea which flashed across
his path, and carried him off (for a time at least) in a
wholly different direction. This peculiarity belonged to
his genius, and was a means of multiplying the instruc-
tion which his conversation afforded. But the volubility
of his intellect was balanced by the stability and faithful-
ness of his moral qualities. When the happiness of man
and the glory of God were in his view, he was for ever
recurring to his point, and in spite of all his episodes of
thought, was an assiduous, persevering, and undaunted
labourer."

And such he still continued, when any great cause
woke up his former fires. " Retired as he was from

* Joseph John Gurney.

298

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1830.

public life," says Mr. Gurney, " and greatly enfeebled
in his health, he no longer found his place in the van of
the army, or in the heat of the battle ; but both by speak-
ing and writing he repeatedly bore his public testimony
in favour of the great principles of the Abolitionists ;
and his warm encouragements and wise counsels were
always ready to stimulate and direct the efforts of his
friends."

But the sketch of this vigorous and cheerful mind
would be exceedingly imperfect, if no hint were given
of the hidden springs by which its freshness was main-
tained. A merely cheerful age is a melancholy sight to
thoughtful men. " It quite lowers my spirits," was his
own declaration at the conclusion of a visit, " to see
people past seventy, so little apparently estranging them-
selves from worldly objects; it is most painful to me
not to be able to converse with them on religion." His
own cheerfulness rested on a surer basis. He was
often thoughtfully retracing all " the way by which the
Lord his God had led him." " How striking is the
change of fifty years — then Samuel Smith and I tra-
velled as bachelors, and now he has a house full of de-
scendants ; and I also have five children and a grand-
child living, besides a daughter and sweet little grandson
gone, I humbly trust, to a better world. Praise the
Lord, O my soul. My dear, and I trust imparadised,
child's birthday."

This same tone of thought may be traced in his letters
to those with whom he was most intimate. " It is one
of my frequent subjects of gratitude and praise, though
not as frequently as it ought to be, that in the kind pro-
vidence of God I was born an Englishman. Go through
the whole earth, and enumerate every part of it, and
you will find nothing like our own country. An Eng-
lishman too in this period of our country's existence,
and in the middle station of life, &c. &c. &c. We do
not, I am sure / do not, live sufficiently under the con-
stant influence of this spirit of thankfulness; and I be-
lieve there is not any one, who has at all observed the
dealings of Providence in his own instance with any

1830.

CAUSES OF HIS CHEERFULNESS.

299

thing like a due measure of attention, who will not have
seen many, many particulars in which he has been
deeply indebted to the preventing or directing grace of
God. It was the reproach, and among the chief causes
of the condemnation of the pagan world, scanty as was
the light they enjoyed compared with the brightness of
our meridian day, that they ' were not thankful. ' And
still more the people of God were threatened with being
cast off if they should not serve the Lord their God with
joyfulness and with gladness of heart for the abundance
of all things. How much more then should our hearts
overflow with continual gratitude ! I doubt not the want
of this blessed disposition will constitute one of the lead-
ing articles in the condemnation of the unholy; and I
have found rustics, as unassailable as a tortoise in every
other quarter, feeling their weak and indefensible state:
in this point, when I have put it to themselves whether
they have been in any due degree grateful to the God
who gave them all their present blessings, and who gave
His only Son to die for them, and to the Saviour, who
for their sakes endured the unknown agonies of His
bitter passion and cruel death."

With a grateful retrospect of life he combined a high
value of the time which still remained to him. " What
importance does it give to life when it is regarded in its
true character as the probation in which are to become
constitutional the dispositions which must form our meet-
ness for the heavenly state ! When the real purpose and
grand end of life is compared with that low view of it
which is taken by the votaries of ambition or even of
literature and science, the contrast between the joys of
children, and the researches and pursuits of manhood is
a most feeble and inadequate illustration."

"The main fault of the present day," he now repeat-
edly declared, " is the making knowledge and intellectual
advancement the great object of pursuit, instead of that
moral improvement by which we may be fitted for a
higher and better state. Much mystery overhangs the
one, and time with an oblivious touch effaces the little
we do attain of science ; but blessed is he who attains

300

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1830.

some lineaments of the moral image of God, for they
shall see Him as He is, and then shall know even as
now they are known." This conviction made him still
watchful to redeem the time. " This evening," he says,
Feb. 15th, " 1 expounded on the Epistle, ' So run that ye
may obtain, &c. lest I should be a cast-away.' The
second lesson this very evening is 1 Cor. ii., in which St.
Paul relates his labour and suffering. And could pains
be required by Him ? O then, my soul, strive — to him
that overcometh only, the promise is assured." " My
future state should now be my grand, indeed compara-
tively speaking, my sole concern. God's kind provi-
dence has granted to me a residue of life after its busi-
ness is over. I know I must be near death, perhaps very
near it. I believe that on the state in which death finds
me, will depend my eternal condition ; and even though
my state may now be such as to produce an humble hope
that I am safe, yet by a wise improvement of my time,
I may augment my eternal happiness, besides enjoying
delightful communion with God in the interval. Let me
then make the improvement of my soul the first grand
business of my life, attending also to the good of others,
if possible both by my pen, and conversation, and social
intercourse."

In this spirit he continued still his rules of abstinence
and self-denial, saying on Ash Wednesday, " We attend
too little to these days ;" and often secretly observing
his fasting regulations — " disused pleasant food — Daniel.
Entire fasting does not suit my constitution, but I attend
to the principle." Often also did he now give up his days
to more continuous devotion, employing thus especially
his own and his children's birth-days, and noting in his
Diary. " I had an interview of two hours and a quarter
before dinner of unspeakable value. Why not secure
many similar seasons? At my time of life what so
proper or so likely to make me useful to others as thus
walking with God?" It was not in vain that he thus
watched and laboured. Through his later years he
walked, in an eminent degree, with God, and was lite-
rally kept in perfect peace through every trial. Those

1831.

OBLIGED TO LEAVE HIGHWOOD HILL.

301

who lived with him and marked his unmixed cheerful-
ness could scarcely believe that he felt as much on relin-
quishing in 1831 his house at Highwood, as a letter writ-
ten at the time implies.

" Highwood, March 16-

" My dear ,

I wished that you should receive from myself rather
than from the tongue of rumour, tidings which sooner
or later were sure to be conveyed to you, and which I
know would give you pain. The loss incurred has been
so heavy as to compel me to descend from my present
level, and greatly to diminish my establishment. But I
am bound to recognize in this dispensation the gracious
mitigation of the severity of the stroke. It was not suf-
fered to take place till all my children were educated,
and nearly all of them placed out in one way or another;
and by the delay, Mrs. Wilberforce and I are supplied
with a delightful asylum under the roofs of two of our
own children. And what better could we desire? A
kind Providence has enabled me with truth to adopt the
declaration of David, that goodness and mercy have fol-
lowed me all my days. And now when the cup presented
to me has some bitter ingredients, yet surely no draught
can be deemed distasteful which comes from such a hand,
and contains such grateful infusions as those of social
intercourse and the sweet endearments of filial gratitude
and affection. What I shall most miss will be my books
and my garden, though I own 1 do feel a little the not
(for I know not how long if ever) being able to ask my
friends to take a dinner or a bed with me, under my
own roof. And as even the great apostle did not think
the 4 having no certain dwelling place,' associated with
his other far greater sufferings, unworthy of mention, so
I may feel this also to be some, though I grant not a
great evil, to one who has so many kind friends who
will be happy to receive him."

His sure confidence was still in God. " He will not
suffer me to be disgraced in my old age. What gives
vol. ii. 26

302

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1831.

me repose in all things, is the thought of their being his
appointment. I doubt not that the same God who has
in mercy ordered so many events for so long a course
of time, will never fail to overrule all things both for my
family and myself." And on recovering from a tem-
porary illness, 44 1 can scarce understand," he said, " why
my life is spared so long, except it be to show that a man
can be as happy without a fortune as with one."

It should be mentioned to the credit of our times, that
by no less than six persons, one of them a West Indian,
such private offers were now made to Mr. Wilberforce
as would have at once restored his fortune. It was from
no false pride that he declined entirely these friendly
propositions, thinking it became his Christian character
rather to adapt his habits to his present income. Towards
his chapel at Mill Hill alone he consented to receive the
assistance of his friends ; and no less happy in receiving
than in showing kindness, he carried always in his pocket
and delighted to produce a wTell-worn list of their several
contributions.

His leaving Highwood was soon followed by a trial of
a different nature, the death of his surviving daughter.
44 Blessed be God," he says, during her illness, 44 we have
every reason to be thankful for the state of mind we wit-
ness in her : a holy, calm, humble reliance on her Sa-
viour, enables her to enter the dark valley with Christian
hope, leaning as it were on her Redeemer's arm, and sup-
ported and cheered by the blessed promises of His gos-
pel. We are in the hands of our heavenly Father, and
I am sure no one has hitherto had such reason as my-
self to say that goodness and mercy have followed me
all my days."

Now was seen the fruit of the high degree in which
he had learned to 44 walk by faith rather than by sight."
44 1 have often heard," he says, 44 that sailors on a voyage
will drink 4 friends astern' till they are half way over,
then 4 friends ahead.' With me it has been 4 friends
ahead' this long time." It was not by the slow process
of reasoning, that he learned to regard this as a short
separation, he at once felt they should not long be parted.

1831.

DEATH OF DAUGHTER.

301

And he soon describes himself, " as enjoying as much
peace and social comfort, as any ought to expect in this
stormy world."

" I forget whether I sent you any particulars of the
closing scene," he writes to Mr. Babington. " They
were such as to call forth from our dear friend Sargent
declarations of satisfaction and thankfulness, which will
be sources of comfort and joy to Mrs. Wilberforce and
myself as long as we live. The Monday after she was
taken away we removed to St. Boniface, which we had
taken in the hope of its conducing to her recovery. It
is certainly one of the most delightful of all possible re-
tirements. The most romantic scenery, sheltered from
every cold wind, and abounding in the most delightful
walks, both sea and inland. There the Sargents ; my
S. and his wife, and little toddler and prattler; my H.
and ourselves passed a delightful fortnight. Really it
was an oasis in the wilderness."

When Mr. Wilberforce left Highwood Hill, he in-
tended to divide the year between the houses of his
second and third sons. The latter already had a home
fit for his reception in the Isle of Wight ; and the former
soon possessed one in the neighbourhood of Maidstone.
" You will join me I am sure," he tells more than one
amongst his friends, " in being thankful as well as re-
joicing in my being able to inform you that Lord
Brougham has given to my second son, (or rather I may
say to me,) quite spontaneously and very handsomely,
the living of East Farleigh. The parsonage is very little
above a mile distant from Barham Court, and there must
be many pleasant circumstances in being so near the
residence, library, park, &c. of an old friend, of such
dimensions. This event comes in such a way as strong-
ly to confirm the persuasion that it is an indication of
the favour of God ; and I cannot but recognize a provi-
dential hand in Lord Brougham's being prompted to
make the appointment just when we were in want of
such a settlement and residence; though Lord Brougham
knew nothing of the matter, and was quite unconsciously
the instrument of granting us our wish."

304

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1832.

Here and in the Isle of Wight, to the great joy of
those he visited, his remaining years were spent. Per-
sonal reasons forbid the veil being lifted from his life as
heretofore, and all the feelings shown with which his
warm heart overflowed, now that he had become the
parishioner and guest of his sons. But a few extracts
from his Diary and letters will give the outline of his
holy and peaceful age.

" We have now been here," he writes from one of his
parsonage houses, " for about six weeks. How can I but
rejoice rather than lament at a pecuniary loss, which
has produced such a result as that of bringing us to
dwell under the roofs of our dear children, and wit-
ness their enjoyment of a large share of domestic com-
forts, and their conscientious discharge of the most im-
portant of all professions."

" We are passing our time here very agreeably; in-
deed we might well use a much stronger term ; for we
should be void of all feeling if the warmest emotions of
gratitude were not called forth in us, towards the
gracious Ordainer of all things, for granting us, in the
evening of life, after the tossings of the ocean of this
world, such a quiet and comfortable haven. Here too
we have the delightful spectacle of those whom we love
most, enjoying a large measure of human life's sweetest
enjoyments, combined with the diligent discharge of its
most important duties. And then that lovely baby !
What a manifest benevolence there is in the Almighty's
having rendered young children so eminently attractive,
considering the degree in which their very existence must
depend on the disposition of those around them, to bear
with their little infirmities, sustain their weakness, and sup-
ply their wants. How little could I expect to complete my
seventy-second year ! Yet it is on this day completed,
and I am suffering no pain, and my complaints those
which are salutary without producing great bodily suf-
fering, like the kind suggestions of a friend tenderly
watching over me, and endeavouring to obtain for me
the benefits, without my feeling the evils commonly at-
tendant on providential visitations. Really the loss of
fortune has been delayed till it brings with it some posi-

1832.

MODE OF LIFE AT HIS SONS.

305

tive comforts, without producing inconvenience or vexa-
tion ; my children's education being completed, and my
parliamentary life quite finished. The necessity too of
quitting my own house has not taken place till I am
supplied with a choice of residences; quite an embarras
des richesses in the habitation line. O pray for me, my

dear , that my return of gratitude and service may

be more commensurate with the rich stocks of blessings
which the Almighty has poured out upon me."

His overflowing gratitude to God was the chief feature
of his later years. Every thing became with him a cause
for thanksgiving. When some of the infirmities of years
began to press upon him, " what thanks do I owe to God,"
was his reflection, " that my declining strength appears
likely not to be attended with painful diseases, but rather
to lessen gradually and by moderate degrees ! How
good a friend God is to me ! When I have any com-
plaint it is always so mitigated and softened as to give
me scarcely any pain. Praise the Lord, O my soul. I
have had a feverish night, or rather a dreamy and dis-
turbed one, but no headache or pain, D. G. What
thanks do I owe to my gracious and heavenly Father !"

The details of his life at his parsonage residences were
much what they had been of late at Highwood, except
that greater quietness gave him more time for reading,
and for those habits of devotional retirement which mani-
festly grew with his increasing years; in which he found
the Psalms and St. Paul's Epistles becoming more and
more dear to him. He was still read to whilst he dressed ;
and after thus hearing Sharon Turner's Sacred History,
he notes in his pocket-book the importance of " medita-
ting more on God as the Creator and Governor of the
universe. Eighty millions of fixed stars, each as large
at least as our sun. Combine the considerations hence
arising with the madness and guilt of sin as setting up
our will against that of God. Combine with it Christ's
unspeakable mercy and love, and that of God in Christ."

This subject he had been accustomed to notice in his
family exhortations. " The discoveries of astronomy,"

26*

306

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1832.

he said, " instead of having an opposite effect, warm my
heart. I think of eighty millions of stars in one nebula,
and of two thousand nebulae, and I feel elevated and
thankful to bear part in this magnificent creation, to be
the child of Him who is the Governor of these boundless
dominions." These thoughts often passed into meditations
upon the moral attributes of God. " Retire into thy
closet," is one of the last entries in his pocket-book, " and
there let contemplation indulge her flights and expatiate."
" I find unspeakable pleasure," he tells a friend, " in the
declarations so often reiterated in the Word of God of
the unvarying truth of the Supreme Being. To me there
is something inexpressibly sublime in the assurance, that
throughout the whole immeasurable extent of the all but
infinite empire of God truth always extends, and like a
master-key unlocks and opens all the mysterious wisdom
and goodness, and mercy of the Divine dispensations."

His early walk, and his mid-day employments re-
mained unaltered ; and in the afternoon he still took as
heretofore, considerable exercise ; pacing at East Far-
leigh, during the winter, up and down a " sheltered,
sunny, gravel walk ;" and in the summer, climbing with
delight at Brighstone to the^top of the chalk downs, or of
an intermediate terrace, or walking along upon the un-
frequented shore.

The following entry in his Diary occurs April 4th.
" Like the finest summer day. The air singularly mild
and balmy, and not a leaf stirring. S. engaged in at a
cottage reading. R. drove me out in the pony-chaise :
which very pleasant. Much affected this evening by my
own reflections. Alas, I am an unprofitable servant, but
God's mercy and Christ's love are inconceivably great.
His ways (thank God) not as our ways. 5th. Day, if
possible even sweeter than yesterday : as balmy and
more air. Walked with my sons up the hill. This even-
ing began Archdeacon Robinson's last days of Bishop
Heber — had begun Sir Walter Scott's last work, but I
felt desirous of something more spiritual."

His evenings were as bright as ever, and though his
power of retaining new impressions was greatly im-

1832.

HIS RETROSFECT OF LIFE.

307

paired, the colours of his earlier recollections seemed
scarcely to fade.

Notes were often made of his conversations which are
highly interesting. On one occasion a sick person in the
neighbourhood having been named " poor soul," he said,
,; how little we know of the afflictions of those in other
ranks of life ! I am quite abashed to think of them. I
have to find sorrows for myself : God has so crowded
His mercies upon me, I can fancy how delightful it
would be to pour in oil and wine into her wounds. How
wonderful is the power with which all the general state-
ments of Scripture come home to the different circum-
stances of life ! In how many instances, for example,
does that parable of the good Samaritan direct us how
to be truly pitiful !" And soon after, speaking of Her-
schers saying, "These are things which must be for
ever hid from man," he broke out, "No ! that they shall
not: I shall know all these things. Oh how low at the
best are your wise men and philosophers ! truly he that
is least in the kingdom of Heaven is greater than he."
He then began to speak of the astonishing truths of the
Gospel. " Only think of that one declaration, God is
perfect truth and perfect love. Why that one thought
worked out is enough to fit a man for Heaven. Oh the
goodness of God to me to bear all my provocations to
him for so many years, and then not only hear my
prayers, but give me grace to offer them." Here he
stopped, quite overpowered by his feelings.

Low as was his estimate of all that he had actually
done, it was easy to see, by the judgments which he
formed of others, how much he now rejoiced in his
earlier choice of objects and pursuits. M Much struck
to-day." says his Diary, M with T. as the successful
lawyer at his best. How little has he been (I fear) pre-
paring for another world ! His father was an artisan ;
what will it signify in a little time whether he had re-
mained on that level or risen as he has?" "Thank
God," was his common exclamation after parting with
those who had drawn prizes in the lottery of worldly
scenes ; " Thank God that I was led into a different

308

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1332.

path." " How much rather," he said to one of his sons
as he drove by the splendid house of one whom he had
always thought rapacious — " how much rather would I
be living as I am on the wreck of my fortune, than have
fattened as he has done upon the public !"

Never did any one see in him the least touch of regret
for that which he had given up. " When a man chooses
the rewards of virtue," he said with some little indigna-
tion, after hearing such complaints, 44 he should re-
member, that to resign the pleasures of vice is part of
his bargain."

But that which was of all things most worthy of
remark in his review of his past life, was his unfeigned
humility. To himself he appeared 44 a sadly unprofitable
servant," and needed constantly 44 the soothing con-
sideration that we serve a gracious Master, who will
take the will for the deed. Thou didst well (even the
phraseology is indicative) that it was in thy heart." Any
direct allusion to his services was met by some natural
disclaimer, " that we each knew our own faults," and that
he was deeply conscious of " neglected opportunities of
service ;" just as a friendly preface to his work on Chris-
tianity drew from him the remark, " Such things ought
never to be published till a man is dead."

He had always detested flattery. Mr. Gisborne never
saw in him so much display of temper as when, being
addressed with servility by a person who wished for his
favourable influence with Mr. Pitt, he threw the letter on
the ground, with the exclamation, " How much rather
would I have the man spit in my face !" This beautiful
simplicity survived all the unfavourable influences of his
life; and the old man whose name was a familiar word
in every mouth, whose country parsonage was visited
almost like a shrine, and who was told by Rammohun
Roy, that wThen 44 he left the East, one of his chief wishes
was to see Mr. Wilberforce," was still altogether lowly
in his own sight, and could say with natural simplicity
when treated in a place of public concourse with some
marks of courtesy, 44 How very civil they were to me ;

1832.

DISRELISH FOR POLITICS.

309

they made way for me, and treated me as if I were some
great man I"

Almost the only growing mark of age was a still
increasing love of that rest to which he was drawing
nearer. " The grashopper had become a burden to
him," and he declined to settle a dispute which had been
referred to him, with the excuse, " My spirits are now
quite unequal to these unpleasant contentions." With
the same feeling he replied, when pressed to take a part
in an election contest, " I have retired and must be silent
and neutral." When he looked out into the world from
his retirement, it was in the faithful spirit of one who
though not unacquainted with its storms, was more
deeply learned in the secret of a quiet confidence in God.
" I have felt my mind and spirits less affected than per-
haps they ought to have been by the various clouds that
are now gathering around us with such appalling black-
ness. Yet I trust that I may calmly, though humbly,
resign myself to the gracious disposal of that great
Being, who, I am sure, has mercifully poured out on me
such unnumbered blessings, and so allayed with miti-
gating kindness the few trials to which I have been
subjected, as to give me cause to look up to Him and
address Him as my heavenly Father. For my own
part, I quite rejoice in being out of all the bustle and
turmoil of political life."

He now never met a friend of earlier days, whose
principles were different from his own, (and such he took
great pains to see,) without following up their intercourse
with a long and friendly letter on their most important
interests, pressing mainly on them, that it was not yet too
late for them to make the better choice. " This is what
they need," he repeated often ; " they get to think that
they are in for it, and that though they have chosen ill it
is too late to alter. I well remember going to my old

friend Lord in his last illness. I had spoken to him

fully on religious matters many years before, and he had
seemed to pay no attention to me. I had heard that he
was taken ill, and called upon him. When I had sat
some time chatting with him, but without alluding to re-

310

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1833.

ligious matters, another friend came in and asked ' How
are you to-day V 'Why,' was his reply, 'as well as I
can be with Wilberforce sitting there, and telling me
that I am going to hell.'" The conversation which
had thus sunk into his mind had been affectionate and
open. " I never can believe," he had said, " some parts
of the Scripture." " How can you expect," was the
reply, " to be able to believe, when you only turn your
mind to the difficulties of the subject ?" But what had
made his friend read this language in his looks, w7as very
much that sense of hopelessness which he was most de-
sirous to correct. " At all events," said another at the
close of such a conversation, " if you are right it is now
too late for me to alter. I am in for it." "No," he
answered earnestly, " my dear P., it is not too late, only
attend to these things and you will find it true, 1 him
that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out.' "

To such calls as these he was still alive, but from all
common business he withdrew as much as possible ; and
could not " leave the quiet of his country retirement
even for the most friendly asylum, without his spirits
failing him," and praying, " that in proportion as" he
" grew unfit for the bustle of life," he " might become
more and more harmonized with the sentiments and dis-
positions of a better world. His need of its waters still
carried him to Bath, and he paid a few short visits to his
oldest and most valued friends.

Though he had two years before " resolved never
more to speak in public," he was induced, upon the 12th
of April, 1833, to propose at a meeting in the town of
Maidstone, a petition against slavery. His own signa-
ture was put to this petition, and with all his earlier spirit,
he would not allow the appointment of delegates, a
measure commonly adopted, but inconsistent he main-
tained with the spirit of the constitution. It was an
affecting sight to see the old man who had been so long
the champion of this cause come forth once more from
his retirement, and with an unquenched spirit, though
with a weakened voice and failing body, maintain for
the last time the cause of truth and justice.

1833.

HIS ILLNESS.

311

There was now no question about immediate eman-
cipation ; put the principle of compensation was disputed,
and on this his judgment and his voice were clear. Ten
years before he had proposed to Mr. Canning that a
fund should be formed for indemnifying those who should
be proved in fact to suffer by a change in the West In-
dian system ; but to admit the principle of previous
compensation for expected injury was only to postone
for ever all improvements of the system. Against this
therefore he all along contended, even whilst he main-
tained that Great Britain " owed smart money" for her
former encouragement of the Slave Trade. He hailed
therefore with joy the proposal to atone for these offences
by the grant of twenty millions; and in this his last
speech at once declared, " I say, and say honestly and
fearlessly, that the same Being who commands us to love
mercy, says also, Do justice, and therefore I have no ob-
jection to grant the colonists the relief that may be due
to them for any real injuries, which they may ultimately
prove themselves to have sustained. But it must be
after an impartial investigation of the merits of each
case by a fair and competent tribunal. I have no ob-
jection either, to make every possible sacrifice which
may be necessary to secure the complete accomplishment
of the object which we have in view ; but let not the
inquiry into this matter be made a plea for perpetuating
wrongs for which no pecuniary offers can compensate."

CHAPTER XV.

Illness and Death.

And now the time was come, when his dust was to
return to the earth, and his spirit to God who gave it.
On the 20th of April he left East Farleigh, and after q.
short visit to the Isle of Wight, arrived at Bath on the

312

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE*

1833.

17th of May. The waters to which in great measure
he owed the prolongation of his life till his 74th year,
would help, it was hoped, to throw off the effects of the
influenza, from which he had suffered greatly upon
leaving Kent. But here his strength visibly declined,
and it was soon seen, that if his life was spared, it would
be but for a season of weakness and suffering. During
two months which he spent there, he suffered much from
pain and languor ; and though he displayed the most
unvarying patience, yet the excellent bust executed at
this time by Joseph, shows, beautiful as it is, that his
outward tenement was fast hastening to decay. But
while all around him were full of thought about himself,
his own anxiety was altogether for two of his daughters-
in-law : for, a month only before his removal, two
grandsons were born to inherit the name of William
Wilberforce.

" Et quasi cursores vitae lampada tradunt."

This event is the last recorded in a pocket-book which
he always carried with him. Other of his thoughts may
be traced in its pages, by a set of references to the
" closing scene of several memorable men."

All his thoughts and conversation now savoured of
the better world to which he was drawing near. At
this time he was consulted by a young friend who was
doubtful what profession to choose, but inclined towards
the army or navy. " Think particularly," he said,
" whether you are choosing for time only, or for eternity.
For of course a sensible man will wish to choose that
which will be best on the long run. And then it is just
as much part of the consideration what will be best for
me between my thousandth and two thousandth year
as between my twentieth and thirtieth. It is curious
how our estimate of time is altered by its being removed
to a distance. Ask how long did Moses live before
Christ. If a man says 1300 years, and you correct
him, 1500: poh ! why be so accurate? Within 200
years will do. But how immense 200 years now seem !"

1833.

FEELINGS IN PROSPECT OF DEATH.

313

Meanwhile the calmness with which he was pre-
paring to close his own career is apparent from the
following letter.

TO THE RIGHT HON. LORD CALTHORPE.
(Private.)

"Bath, June 27, 1833.

" My dear Calthorpe,

You have been very kindly liberal about franks,
and I really feel your kindness, and did not mean you
should be called on so largely. To confess the truth to
you, as really, and not merely in name, a friend, I will
state that three or four days ago I thought I was breaking
up rapidly as well as seriously. There has been I think
an amendment subsequently, which leads me to believe
that my decline is proceeding less rapidly than I had sup-
posed, though not less seriously. There has been a ge-
neral disposition in the system to the deposition of water,
and this sluggishness of the absorbents is a very common
mode in which they whose constitutions are rather
feeble, and who are favoured with a gradual exit,
actually decay. I thought you would like to know this,
and therefore would not keep it from you.

I hear with real pleasure that your dear sister is well,
and that dear Lady Charlotte is about to afford another
security against the extinction of the Calthorpe name.
My dear friend, may God bless and prosper you, espe-
cially in the most important particulars. Oh what cause
for thankfulness have you for having been called to the
knowledge and feeling of salvation through the Re-
deemer! May you grow in grace more and more.
Give my affectionate remembrances to Lady Charlotte,
and Frederick, also to Miss Calthorpe when you next
write, and be assured I am

Ever sincerely and affectionately yours,

W. W^LBER FORCE.

The cover I enclose is to spare the finances of a
widow with six or seven children, and a very slender
vol. ii. 27

314

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1833.

pecuniary provision. It is to introduce her to some
acquaintances at the place where she has fixed for a
time."

It had always been his feeling that the most fitting
state for the last hours of life, was one free alike from
excitement and from terror; in which while the mind
was conscious of the awful nature of the approaching
change, it could yet resign itself to its reconciled, all-mer-
ciful Father, with the humility as well as the confidence
of a child. He often mentioned it as a proof of great
wisdom, that while the younger believer is described by
Bunyan in his Pilgrim's Progress as passing easily
through the stream of death, a less buoyant hope and a
deeper flood is represented as the portion of the aged
Christian. " It is the peculiarity," he said, " of the
Christian religion, that humility and holiness increase in
equal proportions."

But his own mind was as remarkable for its thank-
fulness and peace as for its humility. His youngest son,
who was with him at this period, recorded at the mo-
ment various memoranda of his state of feeling. " Sa-
turday, July 6th, he was taken ill, quite suddenly, while
sitting at dinner. I ran for a medical man, and before I
returned he was got to bed. He was suffering much
from giddiness and sickness, but his words to me were,
* I have been thinking of the great mercy of God in try-
ing me with illness of this kind, which, though very dis-
tressing, is scarcely to be called pain, rather than with
severe suffering, which my "bodily constitution could
hardly bear.' When his medical attendant came, 1 Thank
God,' he said, 1 1 am not losing my faculties.' ' Yes, but
you could not easily go through a problem in arithmetic
or geometry.' * I think I could go through the Asses'
Bridge,' he replied. ' Let me see ;' and began, correct-
ing himself if he omitted any thing. Of course his at-
tendant stopped him.

" About eight o'clock, on being asked how he felt, he
said, ' What cause have I for thankfulness ! I have been
all day almost as comfortable as if I had been pretty

1833.

LAST ILLNESS.

315

well. I have slept a good deal, and I have so many-
people who are kind to me. I am sure I feel deeply my
servants' attention.'

" Alluding to a remedy which was provided for some
present discomfort, he burst out repeatedly into exclama-
tions on the goodness of God in these little things, pro-
viding means to remedy the various inconveniences of
sickness. To this subject he several times recurred,
with the remark, * How ungrateful men are in not seeing
the hand of God in all their comforts ! I am sure it
greatly adds to our enjoyment to trace His hand in
them.'

" Soon after he said, ' What is that text, * He hath hid
pride from man V I was thinking how God had taught
him the folly of pride, because the most beautiful and
delicate woman, and the proudest man, of the highest
birth and station, who was never approached but with
deference and formality, is exposed to exactly the same
infirmities of this body of our humiliation that I am.'
He was repeating mentally the 51st Psalm, and asked
me to look what came next after the eleventh verse,
4 Take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.' I read, < Oh
give me the comfort of Thy help again.' 6 It is very odd,
I thought it had been 1 Restore unto me the joy of Thy
salvation.' Do look what it is in the Bible Version.' I
found it as he said. 4 What a very remarkable passage !
It seems like an anticipation of the privileges of the
new dispensation.'

" He spoke much of the delight which he had in the
affection and care of his wife and children. \ Think
what I should have done had I been left; as one hears
of people quarrelling and separating. ' In sickness and
in health' was the burden, and well has it been kept.'
(Here she came in.) 6 1 was just praising you.'

" Generally, I should say, that except in his remark
about pride, there was hardly a word he uttered that
was not a bursting forth of praise. * What cause it is
for thankfulness, he exclaimed, ' that I never suffer from
headache !'

" Half-past eight, Sunday morning. * Remember, my

316

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1833.

dear H.,' he said, 4 that it is Sunday morning, and all our
times here are very short. I am sure the manner of my
dismissal, as far as it has yet gone, has been most gra-
cious. I have not had so much time here for reading
Scripture as I wish, but I rejoice at having laid in a
knowledge of it when I w7as stronger. I hope you al-
ways take care of that. From our familiarity with it,
we do not feel about the Scripture at all as we should
do, if w7e were to hear for the first time that there was
a communication from God to man.

" 1 Think of our Saviour coming dow?n from heaven,
and, when one feels what a little pain is, submitting to
all that he endured ; having the nails roughly driven
through his hands. To be sure the thought of our Sa-
viour's sufferings is so amazing, so astonishing, I am
quite overwhelmed. Next to the horrible driving of the
nails, I have thought most of His being given over to the
insults of the Roman soldiery, when one thinks what
brutal fellows they were. His sufferings were not
alleviated as mine are by the kindness of those about
Him.

" 1 1 have been thinking of that delightful text, which
has often comforted me, ' Be careful for nothing, &c.'
(He went on as far as 6 The peace of God shall keep
your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.') k To be
sure,' (he spoke with his voice faltering with emotion,)
6 it is the same Almighty power which enables Him to
watch over all the world, every creature, beast, bird, or
insect, and to attend to all the concerns of every indi-
vidual.'

" Four o'clock. Dinner time. 6 1 am a poor creature
to-day,' he said. 'I cannot help thinking if some of the
people who saw me swaggering away on the hustings at
York could see me now, how much they would think me
changed. What a mercy to think that these things do
not come by chance, but are the arrangement of infinite
wisdom !

' When I think how many poor people are suffering,
without the luxuries that I possess, and the kind friends
1 have about me, I am quite ashamed of my comforts."

1833.

NOTES DURING HIS ILLNESS.

317

"Five o'clock. 'I cannot help thinking there was
some mistake about my medicine; but it does not matter.
There is nothing sinful in it.'

" Toussaint Louverture was mentioned in the evening.
i I sent word,' he said, ' to Sir Walter Scott that he had
not at all done justice to that part of his History, (of Buo-
naparte.) and he replied, that if I would point any thing
out to him, he would willingly alter it. I wanted dear
Stephen to do it, but he did not. I am very sorry for it,
but, it must be known sooner or later. To be sure to
make a treaty of amity and friendship with a man, and
then have him and his family seized and sent on ship-
board, and finally to the chateau of Joux. . . . And then
a veil is drawn over it. None knows what happened.
What a story there will be there, when this world shall
give up its dead ! It was something like the case of the
Due D'Enghien, but worse.'

" Eleven, p. m. 'I feel more comfortable than I have
done for I know not how long. Never had a man such
cause for thankfulness as I have, and above all, that I
have so many, many kind friends to do every thing for
me. My own son, and my own wife. I am quite
ashamed of my comforts, when I think of Him who
had not where to lay His head.'

" Tuesday, four o'clock. Reading some of Cecil's re-
marks. * Nothing can be more opposite than that spirit
of the present day, which shows itself for instance in the
pride of literature, to the spirit of Christianity. Compare
this bold, independent, daring spirit, with the beatitudes.
1 Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are they that
mourn. Blessed are the meek.' Nothing surely can be
so contrary to what ought to be the spirit of a creature
who feels in himself the seeds of corruption.

1 Mrs. Hannah More told me that towards the end of
Johnson's life, if he was asked how he was, he would
answer < rather better, I thank my God through Jesus
Christ.' And so to whatever he wras asked.'

A friend, who happened to be passing through Bath,
two clays afterwards, (July 11th,) paid him a visit which
he thus describes. " VVhen I arrived at the house on the

27*

318

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1833.

South Parade which he then occupied, I found that he
had been suffering severely from a bilious attack ; and
his lady, whose attentions to him were most tender and
unremitting, appeared to be in low spirits on his account.
Still there then appeared no reason to apprehend the
near approach of death.

"I was introduced to an apartment up-stairs, where I
found the veteran Christian reclining on a sofa, with his
feet wrapped in flannel; and his countenance bespeaking
increased age since I had last seen him, as well as much
delicacy. He received me with the warmest marks of
affection, and seemed to be delighted by the unexpected
arrival of an old friend. 1 had scarcely taken my seat
beside him before ... it seemed given me to remind him
of the words of the Psalmist; 'Although ye have lien
among the pots yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove
covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold
and I freely spoke to him of the good and glorious things,
which, as I believed, assuredly awaited him in the king-
dom of rest and peace. In the mean time the illuminated
expression of his furrowed countenance, with his clasped
and uplifted hands were indicative of profound devotion
and holy joy.

" Soon afterwards he unfolded his own experience to
me in a highly interesting manner. He told me that the
text on which he was then most prone to dwell, and from
which he was deriving peculiar comfort, wjas a passage
in the Epistle to the Philippians ; ' Be careful for nothing,
but in every thing by prayer and supplication, with
thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto
God ; and the peace of God which passeth all under-
standing shall keep your hearts and minds through Jesus
Christ/ While his frail nature was shaking, and his
mortal tabernacle seemed ready to be dissolved, this
4 peace of God,' was his blessed and abundant portion.

" The mention of this text immediately called forth one
of his bright ideas, and led to a display, as in days of old,
of his peculiar versatility of mind. * How admirable.'
said he, * are the harmony and variety of St. Paul's
smaller Epistles! — You might well have given an argu-

1833.

STARTS TOR LONDON".

319

merit upon it in your little work on evidence. The Epis-
tle to the Galatians contains a noble exhibition of doc-
trine. That to the Colossians is a union of doctrine and
precept, showing their mutual connexion and dependence;
that to the Ephesians is seraphic ; that to the Philippians,
is all love.'

" 6 With regard to myself,' he added, 6 1 have nothing
whatsoever to urge, but the poor Publican's plea, 1 God
be merciful to me a sinner.' These words were ex-
pressed with peculiar feeling and emphasis, and have
since called to my remembrance his own definition of
the word mercy — 4 kindness to those who deserve pun-
ishment.' What a lesson may we derive from such an
example ! It may awfully remind us of the apostle's
question — * If the righteous scarcely be saved, where
shall the sinner and ungodly appear V "*

The predominance of these feelings may be seen in a
remark which he made to his son a few days afterwards,
speaking of his dangerous attack the week before, " You
must all join with me," he said, "in praying that the
short remainder of my life may be spent in gaining that
spirituality of mind which will fit me for heaven. And
there I hope to meet all of you."

After he had spent two months at Bath, it was thought
advisable that he should consult Dr. Chambers, from
whose skill he had derived great benefit in 1824. He set
out therefore towards London, though with no expecta-
tion on his own part of recovering. " There is no one
now," he said, " that I can be useful to, but we should
always be trying to follow, in every respect, God's indi-
cated will." His purpose was to spend a few days at a
house which was lent him by his cousin, Mrs. Lucy
Smith, of whose kindness he readily availed himself, ob-
serving, that it was his "test of having a regard for a
person when he liked to receive favours from them. One
likes to confer them upon every one, but only to receive

* Familiar Sketch, by Joseph John Gurney. His son has recorded
the last remark as "The Epistle to the Philippians is social and do-
mestic."

320

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1833

them from real friends. I am sure I used always to
think, as soon as I went out of my house, which of my
friends there was to whom I could lend it. It was such
a pleasure to think, when I could not enjoy it myself,
that they did." He commenced his journey on the 17th
of July, and on the 19th arrived in Cadogan Place,
Sloane Street.

Thus was he again carried along the road, which
forty-five years before he had traversed in apparently a
dying state, and his mind seemed to travel back through
the long space which had intervened. "How differently
lime appears," lie said to his son while they halted at an
inn, " when you look at it in the life of an individual, and
in the general mass! Now I seem to have gone through
such a number of various scenes, and such a lapse of
time, and yet when you come to compare it with any
great period of time — fifty years — think how little fifty
years seems: why it is 3000 years since the Psalms
which I delight in, were written. By the way (turning
to his servant,) I have not my Psalter this morning. Do
you know where it is V9

The day after he reached town, he expressed himself
as " very anxious to dedicate the short remainder of time
Cod might yet allot him, to the cultivation of union with
Christ, and to the acquiring more of His spirit. My'pri-
vate prayers," he said, "are much the same as those in
the family? pardon and grace. To-night [Saturday] par-
ticularly with regard to the week past."

" Perhaps I have been wrong in not praying more with
others. But I never felt that I could open my heart with
perfect freedom and sincerity, and the idea of doing
otherwise in praying to Almighty God. . . Now I own
many good men use expressions which I cannot use; for
instance, about their own corruption. I hope no man on
earth has a stronger sense of sinfulness and unworthiness
before God than I. But they speak as if they did not
fee] the wish to do the will of God, and I am sure I can-
not say t hat. Now S. in his prayers, often uses expres-
sions of that kind, which quite amaze me in a man so
sincere as he is."

1833.

HIS LAST DAYS.

321

When he reached London parliament was still sitting,
and many of his friends flocked around him. " What
cause it is for thankfulness," he said, " that God has al-
ways disposed people to treat me so kindly, and with
such attention! Popularity is certainly a dangerous
thing;" — [then after a pause ;] — "the antidote is chiefly in
the feeling one has ; how very differently they would re-
gard me, if they knew me really !" A friend who at this
time came in asked, " Well ! how are you V9 " I am like
a clock which is almost run down." On the Monday
after his arrival, he received a visit from a party of chil-
dren. After they were gone, he said " What a delightful
thing it is to think how many inhabitants are being trained
up there for heaven ! For when the means of grace are
used, one does see, I think, that God so very greatly, one
may say universally blesses them."

His public conduct had not prevented him from keeping
up a friendly connexion with many West Indians; who
gave full credit to his sincerity. One of his last visiters
was a member of a great West Indian family; and to
his son's remark that this circumstance produced no
effect upon his feelings — 11 Oh when we really believe a
man to be serving God," he answered, "I delight in
trampling on all these little points. Some one said, ' I
trample on impossibilities.' I do not quite say that; but
all these little distinctions are overwhelmed, annihilated,
in the case of a person with whom I trust, (speaking
with deep seriousness,) for my own sake, I may meet
hereafter."

"How thankful should I be," was his remark to a
friend who now came in, " that I am not lying in severe
pain, as so many are ! Certainly, not to be able to move
about is a great privation to me; but then I have so
many comforts, and above all, such kind friends — and
to that you contribute."

" At this time," says another member of his family,
" I arrived in London to see him, and was much struck by
the signs of his approaching end. His usual activity
was totally suspended by a painful local disorder, which
prevented him from walking. The morning of Friday

322

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1833.

(July 26th) was pleasant, and I assisted before his break-
fast to carry him in a chair to the steps in front of the
house, that he might enjoy the air for a few moments.
Here he presented a most striking appearance, looking
forth with calm delight upon trees and grass, the fresh-
ness and vigour of which contrasted with his own decay.
It was nearly his last view of God's works in this their
lower manifestation. < The doors' were soon ' to be shut
in the streets, and those that look out of the windows to
be darkened.'

" His manner at this time was more than usually
affectionate, and he received with great cheerfulness the
visits of many old associates, from whom he had long
been separated. The last words which I heard from him
related to one of these, whose religious opinions he had
many years lamented. 6 How truly amiable he is, yet I
can never see him without the deepest pain !' On Friday
afternoon I left him with the intention of preparing to re-
ceive him, on the following Tuesday, not knowing that
before that time he was to be a 4 partaker of the inheri-
tance of the saints in light.' "

It was altogether a striking combination of circum-
stances that he should have come to London at that time
— to die. The Bill for the Abolition of Slavery was read
for the second time in the House of Commons on the Fri-
day night, and the last public information he received
was, that his country was willing to redeem itself from
the national disgrace at any sacrifice. " Thank God,"
said he, " that I should have lived to witness a day in
which England is willing to give twenty millions sterling
for the Abolition of Slavery." His state of health had
latterly induced many of his friends to express their hope
that he might be allowed to witness the consummation
of the fifty years' struggle, and might then retire in
peace; and so strong was this presentiment, that one of
them speaks of writing to take leave of him so soon as
the Bill for the Abolition of Slavery wTas known to be
in progress. That this anticipation should be so ex-
actly realized added signal interest to an event, which
in the course of nature might be shortly expected.

1833.

HIS LAST DAYS.

323

Not less remarkable was it that London, which of late
he had seldom visited, and where he purposed to remain
but a day or two, should be the place of his departure.
Yet had it been otherwise, his funeral could hardly have
presented the circumstances, which made it the fit ter-
mination of such a life. The concurrence of two such
incidents seemed providentially designed to fix public
attention on his closing scene, that so the aged Christian
might be marked out by the public voice, as the man
whom his country " delighted to honour."

On the evening of Friday, however, he seemed so
much better, that there was every reason to suppose he
would be able to leave town on the Tuesday. His
youngest son has again recorded some of his remarks.
"A review in the Quarterly was read to him, (Rush's
Residence,) which spoke of the Duke of Wellington's
ability in council. 6 Most true,' he said. 6 1 suppose you
have never seen them, but when the Duke of Welling-
ton commanded in Spain, and his brother the Marquis
Wellesley was sent to conduct the negotiation, the papers
containing the despatches of the two brothers were
printed by parliament, and I remember thinking, that I
had never seen any thing at all equal to them in talent.
I remember hearing too, that of all the persons who
gave evidence about Finance, the Duke of Wellington
and Lord Harrowby knew most of the subject.'

" Some of his concluding remarks this evening were
on the number of friends by whom he was surrounded.
' I do declare,' he said, 'that the delight I have in feeling
that there are a few people whose hearts are really at-
tached to me, is the very highest I have in this world.
And as far as the present state is concerned, what more
could any man wish at the close of life, than to be
attended by his own children, and his own wife, and all
treating him with such uniform kindness and affection V "

His son concludes his notes this evening. " On the
whole, what appears to me characteristic in his state of
mind is chiefly this : there seems to be little anticipation,
though he is strongly impressed with a feeling that he is

224

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1833.

near his end ; much nearer than from what his physician
says I trust is the case. He speaks very little as if look-
ing forward to future happiness ; but he seems more like
a person in actual enjoyment of heaven within : he hard-
ly speaks of any one subject except to express his sense
of thankfulness, and what cause he feels for gratitude.
This is the case even in speaking of the things which try
him most. Thus, talking of his being kept from exercise,
' What cause for thankfulness have I that I am not lying
in pain, and in a suffering posture, as so many people
are ! Certainly it is a great privation to me from my
habits not to be able to walk about, and to lie still so
much as I do, but then how many there are who are
lying in severe pain !' And then he will break out into
some passionate expression of thankfulness."

" The next morning, July 27, his amendment seemed
to continue. To an old servant who drew him out in a
wheel chair, he talked with more than usual animation,
and the fervency with which he offered up the family
prayer was particularly noticed. But in the evening his
weakness returned in a most distressing manner, and the
next day he experienced a succession of fainting fits, to
which he had been for two years subject, which were fol-
lowed by much suffering, and which for a time suspended
his powers of recollection. His physician pronounced that
if he survived this attack it would be to suffer much pain,
and probably also with an impaired understanding. Dur-
ing an interval in theevening of Sunday, 4 1 am in a very
distressed state,' he said, alluding apparently to his bodily
condition. * Yes,' it was answered, * but you have your
feet on the Rock.' ' 1 do not venture,' he replied, 1 to
speak so positively; but I hope I have.' And after this
expression of his humble trust, with but one groan, he
entered into that world where pain and doubt are for
ever at an end. He died at three o'clock in the morning
of Monday, July 29th, aged 73 years and 11 months.

Mr. Wilberforce had chosen for the place of his inter-
ment, in accordance with a promise made to his brother-
in-law, Mr. Stephen, a vault at Stoke Newington, where

1833.

FUNERAL HONOURS.

325

his sister and his daughter had been buried. A direction
to this effect was given in his will, a circumstance how-
ever not actually ascertained till after the funeral. But
his family had no hesitation in acceding to a request made
by the Lord Chancellor and nearly forty other Peers,
that he should be buried in Westminster Abbey with
public honours. Still they thought it fitting to avoid all
such parade as was inconsistent with the situation of a
private gentleman. It was his characteristic distinction
that, without quitting the rank in which Providence had
placed him, he had cast on it a lustre peculiarly his own.
Nothing therefore could be more appropriate, than that
the Bishops of the Church, the Princes of the Blood, the
great warrior of the age, the King's chief servants, and
the highest legal functionaries — whatever England had
most renowned for talent and greatness — should assem-
ble as they did around his unpretending bier. His simple
name was its noblest declaration.

When his funeral reached Westminster Abbey on
Saturday, Aug. 5th, the procession was joined by the
members then attending the two Houses of Parliament.
Public business was suspended ; the Speaker of the
House of Commons, the Lord Chancellor, one Prince of
the Blood, with others of the highest rank took their place
as pall-bearers beside the bier. It was followed by his
sons, his relations, and immediate friends. The Pre-
bendary then in residence, one of his few surviving col-
lege friends, met it at the Minster gate with the Church's
funeral office; and whilst the vaulted roof gave back
the anthem his body was laid in the north transept, close
to the tombs of Pitt, Fox, and Canning.

It is impossible to conclude this history without ob-
serving the striking testimony w7hich it bears to that in-
spired dictate: "Godliness has the promise of the life
that now is as well as of that which is to come." If ever
any man drew a prosperous lot in this life, he did so,
who has been here described. Yet his Christian faith
was from first to last his talisman of happiness. With-
out it the buoyancy of youthful spirits led to a frivolous
waste of life not more culpable than unsatisfying. With

vol. ii. 28

326

LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.

1823.

it came lofty conceptions, — an energy which triumphed
over sickness and languor, the coldness of friends and
the violence of enemies, — a calmness not to be provoked,
— a perseverance which repulse could not baffle. To
these virtues was owing the happiness of his active days.
Through the power of the same sustaining principle, his
affection towards his fellow-creatures was not dulled by
the intercourse of life, nor his sweetness of temper im-
paired by the irritability of age. A firm trust in God,
an undeviating submission to His will, an overflowing
thankfulness, — these maintained in him to the last that
cheerfulness which this world could neither give nor take
away. They poured even upon his earthly pilgrimage
the anticipated radiance of that brighter region, to which
he has now doubtless been admitted. For " the path of

THE JUST IS LIKE THE SHINING LIGHT WHICH SHINETH MORE
AND MORE UNTO THE PERFECT DAY."

APPENDIX.

The following Memoranda, dictated by Mr. Wilberforce,
were found among his papers.

More private.

It would indicate a strange insensibility to the ways
of a gracious Providence, if I were to suffer the circum-
stance of my having Di\ Milner for my fellow-traveller
to pass without observation. Wishing for an intelligent
and agreeable companion, I requested my friend, Dr.
Burgh of York, to accompany me, a man of whom it is
difficult for me to speak with moderation, full as my
memory must ever be of marks of a kindness that could
scarcely be exceeded, and of a disposition always to
forget himself, and to be ready to conform to his friend's
wishes. A fund of knowledge of various kinds, great
cheerfulness of temper, and liveliness of fancy, rendered
him a delightful companion. But he had qualities also
of a higher order — an entire conviction of the truth of
revelation; a considerable acquaintance with ecclesias-
tical history; just principles of religion; and as affec-
tionate a heart as ever warmed a human bosom ; with
a continual promptitude to engage in every office of
benevolence: but the habit of associating with compa-
nions, and living for the most part in society which,
whatever might be the opinion assented to by the under-
standing, exhibited no traces of spirituality in its ordi-
nary conversation, had induced a habit of abstaining
from all religious topics in his common intercourse, and
even an appearance of levity which would have pre-

328

APPENDIX.

vented his being known, except by those who were ex-
tremely intimate with him, or rather by those who being
themselves also religious were likely to draw forth his
secret thoughts and feelings, to have any more reflection
than that average measure for which we are to give
people credit, whose only visible attention to religion
consists in their going to church on a Sunday. A gra-
cious Providence prepared him, I doubt not, by a long
illness for that change which he was to experience
much sooner than could have been anticipated from the
uncommon strength of his constitution, and the tempe-
rance of his habits ; but had he been my fellow-traveller
I should never have benefited by him in the most im-
portant of all concerns ; indeed I am persuaded that we
neither of us should ever have touched on the subject of
religion except in the most superficial and cursory wray.

To my surprise Dr. Burgh declined accepting my pro-
posal, and I next invited Dr. Milner to accompany me,
chiefly prompted by his acknowledged talents and ac-
quirements, and by my experience of his cheerfulness,
good nature, and powers of social entertainment. It
was the more important to me to secure such a fellow-
traveller, because we were to have a tete-a-tete in my
carriage; the ladies of my party travelling with their
maids in a coach. It is somewhat curious, that, as I
learned accidentally long afterwards, my grandfather
had declared that in after-life I should go abroad with
Isaac Milner as my tutor. I am bound to confess that I
was not influenced to select Dr. Milner by any idea of
his having religion more at heart than the bulk of our
Cambridge society ; and in fact, though his religious
opinions were the same as his brother's, yet they were
then far from having that influence over his heart and
manners which they subsequently possessed; though it
is due to him to declare that his conduct was always
what is called correct and free from every taint of vice,
and he had a warmth of benevolence which rendered
him always ready to every good work. 1 must go fur-
ther ; had I known at first what his opinions were, it
would have decided me against making him the offer; so

APPENDIX.

329

true is it that a gracious hand leads us in ways that we
know not, and blesses us not only without, but even
against, our own plans and inclinations.

The recollections which I had of what I had heard
and seen when I lived under my uncle's roof, had left in
my mind a prejudice against their kind of religion as
enthusiastic and carrying matters to excess; and it was
with no small surprise I found on conversing with my
friend on the subject of religion, that his principles and
views were the same with those of the clergymen who
were called Methodistical ; this led to renewed discus-
sions, and Milner (never backward in avowing his
opinions, or entering into religious conversation) justified
his principles by referring to the word of God. This led
to our reading the Scriptures together, and by degrees I
imbibed his sentiments ; though I must confess with
shame, that they long remained merely as opinions as-
sented to by my understanding, but not influencing my
heart. At length, however, I began to be impressed
with a sense of the weighty truths, which were more or
less the continual subjects of our conversation. I began
to think what folly it was, nay, what madness, to con-
tinue month after month, nay, day after day, in a state
in which a sudden call out of the world, which I was
conscious might happen at any moment, would consign
me to never-ending misery, while at the very same time
I was firmly convinced from assenting to the great
truths taught us in the New Testament, that the offers of
the gospel were universal and free, in short that happi-
ness, eternal happiness, was at my option.

As soon as I reflected seriously upon these subjects,
the deep guilt and black ingratitude of my past life forced
itself upon me in the strongest colours. I condemned
myself for having wasted my precious time, and oppor-
tunities, and talents ; and for several months I continued
to feel the deepest convictions of my own sinfulness,
rendered only the more intense by the unspeakable mer-
cies of our God and Saviour declared to us in the offers
and promises of the gospel. These however by degrees
produced in me something of a settled peace of con-
28*

330

APPENDIX.

science. I devoted myself for whatever might be the
term of my future life, to the service of my God and
Saviour, and, with many infirmities and deficiencies,
through His help I continue until this day.

Conscious of my having sadly wasted my time and
neglected my opportunities of improvement, I began to
consider how 1 might best redeem whatever of life might
remain to me. Parliamentary business both of a public
and private nature (for wherever any landed, commer-
cial, or manufacturing interest was in question, the
county of York was interested) found me full employ-
ment for my time during the sitting of the House. I
therefore considered how to employ my recess to the
most advantage. Accordingly so soon as parliament
was prorogued, I commonly settled myself, except for
occasional residence at Buxton or Bath when my health
required it, in the house of some intimate friend, chiefly
at Mr. Gisborne's and Mr. Babington's, who kindly also
received my mother and sister, where I was allowed the
entire command of my own time, and was very little in-
commoded by country hospitalities. I breakfasted in my
own room, dined with the family, and resumed my
studies in the evening, joining the family party when I
took my little supper half an hour or an hour before bed-
time.

This may be a proper time for mentioning the un-
common kindness and liberality which I experienced
from my constituents. In former times the county mem-
bers displayed their equipages annually at the races, and
constituted a part of the grand jury at the summer as-
sizes ; the latter indeed I should have been glad to attend
but for the unseemly festivities which commonly take
place at that period; I was not however wanted; the
number of gentlemen of large fortune in the county was
far more than sufficient to constitute a most respectable
grand jury both at the spring and summer assizes. I
could not consistently with my principles frequent the
theatre and ball-room, and I knew that I should give
offence by staying away were I actually at York ; but
no discontent was ever expressed at my not presenting

APPENDIX.

331

myself to the county on these occasions. My friends
appeared tacitly to admit my claim to the command of
my own time during the recess, satisfied with my attend-
ing to their and the public interest during the session of
Parliament. In fact no man I believe was ever more
punctual in his attendance on the House of Commons
than myself. I was always in my place on the first day
of the session, and I do not remember having been ever
absent on the last, excepting once when I was drawn
into the country a day or two before the prorogation by
the illness of some of my family ; occasionally also I
was present at the county meetings, and when there I
always took an active part in their proceedings.

That gracious Providence which all my life long has
directed my course with mercy and goodness, and which
in so many instances known only to myself has called
forth my wonder and gratitude, was signally manifested
in the first formation of my parliamentary connexion
with the county of York, and in its unintermitted and
long continuance. Had the change in my religious prin-
ciples taken place a year sooner, humanly speaking I
never could have become member for Yorkshire. The
means I took, and the exertions I made, in pursuing that
object, were such as I could not have used after my re-
ligious change ; I should not have thought it right to
carve for myself so freely, if I may use the phrase, (to
shape my course for myself so confidently,) nor should I
have adopted the methods by which I ingratiated myself
in the good-will of some of my chief supporters; neither
after my having adopted the principles I now hold,
could 1 have conformed to the practices by which alone
any man would be elected for any of the places in which
I had any natural influence or connexion. . . .

My having been member for Hull gave me the oppor-
tunity of making myself known as a public man ; it led
to my formation of political connexions, and to my culti-
vation of the art of public speaking — all of which were
among the means that prepared the way for my repre-
senting the county.

All circumstances considered .. my mercantile origin,

332

APPENDIX.

my want of connexion or acquaintance with any of the
nobility or gentry of Yorkshire . . my being elected for
that great county appears to me upon the retrospect to
have been so utterly improbable that I cannot but wonder
— and in truth I ascribe it to a providential intimation —
that the idea of my obtaining that high honour suggested
itself to my imagination and in fact fixed itself within my
mind. I mentioned it as a possible event to one or two
private friends, but not to Mr. Pitt or any of my political
connexions ; yet entertaining this idea, I carefully pre-
pared myself for the public debate that was soon to fol-
low in the face of the whole county, and both at the
public meeting and in the subsequent discussions which
took place in the miscellaneous body of Mr. Pitt's sup-
porters, it was this idea which regulated the line as well
as animated the spirit of my exertions.

His own conduct* Without date or title.

I cannot deny that from associating with men of the
world, and hearing their principles, and calculations, and
prospects, the ideas of aggrandizement would sometimes
present themselves to my mind, and court my adoption.
Various gentlemen were raised to the Upper House,
whom the partiality we feel where we ourselves are in
question, might excuse my considering as having no bet-
ter pretensions than myself to such an elevation: and
besides the solid advantages of a permanent seat in the
legislature, the securing of which involved the possessor
in no expense or trouble, the Upper House appeared
from various considerations to afford a more favourable
field for bringing forward religious and moral improve-
ments, the neglect of which, I had almost said the entire
forgetfulness of them, has long appeared to me to be the
grand defect of all our modern statesmen (for the last
century). How different in this respect are they, though

APPENDIX.

333

blessed with the light of Christianity, from the great
legislators of antiquity, in whom the conservation or im-
provement of the national morals was always the pri-
mary object of their care! My fortune too was greater
than that of some of those who were raised to the peer-
age; and at that time I thought it far the most probable
that I should never enter into married life. But a little
reflection beat down at once all such worldly appeten-
cies. Since there could be no possible plea of a public
nature, my exaltation would appear, and truly appear,
to arise solely from my own request, and therefore
would not merely have exhibited the show, but the
reality, of my carving for myself, (if I may so express
myself,) of being the artificer of my own fortune;
whereas the true Christian, deeming it to be his duty
to pursue the course that will be most agreeable to the
will of God, endeavours to discover the path of duty
from the indications of the Divine will to be collected
from the passing events and circumstances, considered
in combination with his own qualifications and disposi-
tions : his grand inquiry continuing always the same,
how he may best promote the glory of God, and secure
his own salvation and that of those whose interests are
consigned by Providence to his care.

Independently however of all religious considerations,
it appeared to me that no little injury had been done to
the credit and character of the House of Commons by
the numerous peerages that were granted to men who
had no public claims to such a distinction, and whose
circumstances clearly manifested that borough or parlia-
mentary interest was the basis of their elevation : hence
the inference formerly to be drawn from the support of
commoners of large landed property, that the ministers
who enjoyed it enjoyed also the esteem and confidence
of the public, was no longer to be drawn; nor were such
men entitled to more credit for the independence and
purity of their political support than the representatives
of the most ordinary boroughs. Various were the in-
stances of country gentlemen of family and fortune, who
appeared for a time to be honouring government by their

334

APPEXDIX.

support, sometimes in opposition to their family habits or
political connexions, when at length out came the Gazette,
proclaiming the explanation of their conduct, or at least
bringing it into doubt with those who were disposed to
suspect the purity of politicians. An example therefore
appeared to me to be required of a contrary kind, nor
could it be exhibited more properly than in the instance
of one who having been some time member for the
greatest county in England, and being also the personal
intimate of the prime minister, might be supposed likely
to have been able, if he had made the endeavour, to suc-
ceed in obtaining the object of his Wishes. Nor could
the world, always sufficiently acute in discerning the
faults and infirmities of those who profess to have more
respect than ordinary for religion, have failed to notice
the inconsistency of eagerness for worldty aggrandize-
ment in one, whose principles ought to have moderated
his desire of earthly distinctions, and to have rendered
him even jealous of an advancement which would be
likely to augment his temptations, and thereby increase
the danger of his making shipwreck of his faith.

If such were my conclusions in the circumstances in
which I was then placed, how much have they been
strengthened since I have been blessed with a family!
No one who forms his opinions from the word of God
can doubt, that in proportion to a man's rank and fortune
the difficulty of his progress in the narrow road and his
ultimate admission into heaven is augmented ; and no
Christian can possibly doubt its being a parent's first
duty to promote his children's spiritual advancement and
everlasting happiness; but were the comfort in this life
only the object in view, no one at my time of life who
has contemplated life with an observant eve, and who
has looked into the interior of family life, can entertain
a doubt that the probability of passing through the world
with comfort, and of forming such connexions as may
be most likely to ensure the enjoyment of domestic and
social happiness, is far greater in the instance of persons
of the rank of private gentlemen, than of that of noble-
men who are naturally led to associate with people of

APPENDIX.

335

their own rank — the sons being led to make fortune their
primary object in the forming of matrimonial connexions
that they may be able to maintain their stations in
society. As for the daughters, private gentlemen of
moderate fortunes, and clergymen, and even still more
mercantile men, have few opportunities of cultivating an
intimacy with them, and are afraid of venturing upon a
connexion for life with partners whose opinions and
habits have been formed on a scale disproportionate to
the resources of people of moderate fortunes.

THE END.

INDEX.

Abolition of Slave Trade defeat-
ed, i. 230,248, 276— Bill passes
House of Commons, 307 — de-
feated again, 315 — final pas-
sage, ii. 17.

Adult schools, ii. 152.

Alexander, Emperor of Russia,
ii. 141— letter to, on conven-
tion for general Abolition, 145
— interview with, 145 — letter
to, ii. 244.

Allen, William, his character, ii.
'89.

America, interest for, i. 123, ii.

74, 90, 109.
Ante-room, Mr. Wilberforce's

described, i. 104.
Austerlitz, battle of, i. 321.
Augereau, ii. 260.

B.

Bible Society established, i. 288.

Bishop of Gloucester, character
of, ii. 221.

Blucher, message from, ii. 165.

Buonaparte, ii. 317.

Burke, Right Hon. Edmund, his
estimate of Mr.W.'s eloquence,
i. 94 — death-bed approbation of
* Practical Christianity,' 216.

Burleigh, Lord, his reply to Wal-
singham, i. 319.

vol. II. 29

Canning, i. 255, ii. 57, 215, 244.
Carey, Dr. his character, ii. 125.
Cecil, Rev. R. i. 149.
Challenged, i. 135.
Christian Observer, established,

i. 244.

Charities, Wilberforce's, i. 241,
269.

Chalmers, ii. 182.

Cheddar, establishment of schools

at, i. 96.
Christophe, correspondence with,

ii. 195, 211, 232.
Church patronage, i. 235.
Corn Law Bill and riots, ii. 159.
Ccelebs, ii. 49.

D.

Death of mother, i. 238.
Death of sister, ii. 173.
Death of daughter, ii. 238.
Death, his own feelings in pros-
pect of, ii. 314.
Duel, challenged to, i. 135.
Duel, Pitt and Tierney, i. 231.
Duel, Grattan and Corry, i. 255.
Duel, Canning and Castlereagh,
ii. 57.

E.

Earlham family, ii. 172.

338

INDEX.

Edgevvorth, Miss, her Tales, ii.
63.

Election for Hull, i. 20.
Election, for Yorkshire, i. 37, 109,

277, ii. 27.
East India, interest for, i. 152, ii.

40, 92, 120.
Elwes, John, (the miser), ii. 276.
Escape, providential, i. 299%

F.

Falkland, Lord, ii. 222.

Female Anti-Slavery Associa-
tions, objections to, ii. 278.

Finley, visit to, in Newgate, i.
284.

Franklin, Dr. Benjamin, i. 32.

French levity, ii. 277.

French Revolutionary principles,
spread of, i. 143.

Fox, Right Hon. C. becomes pre-
mier, ii. 13 — supports Aboli-
tion, 15— death, 19, 275, 276.

G.

Gaming, cured of, i. 22.
Gisborne, Rev. T. i. 18.
Gurney, Joseph John, Esq. ii.

172 — his character of Mr.

Wilberforce, ii. 317.

H.

Habeas Corpus Suspension Bill,
i. 171.

Hall, Robert, i. 309, ii. 98, 245.

Hayti, interest for, ii. 194.

Heber, - Reginald, (afterwards
Bishop of Calcutta,) his first
introduction to Wilberforce, ii.
24.

J.

Jay, John, Esq. (American en-
voy,) i. 167.
Jenner, letter to, i. 286.

Johnson, Dr. ii. 205, 276, 317.
L.

La Fayette, Marquis de, reasons
for supporting the motion for
his release, i. 202.

Lakes, visit to, ii. 205.

Latrobe, Rev. C. Ignatius, his
letter on the origin of the Abo-
lition of the Slave Trade, i. 73.

Londonderry, Marquis of, his
death, ii. 242, 275.

Loss of fortune, ii. 295.

M.

Mackintosh, Sir James, ii. 25.

Marriage, i. 220.

Martyn, Rev. Henry, his cha-
racter of Mr. Wilberforce, i.
303.

Methodists, i. 245, 257.

Middle Passage Bill, i. 84.

Milner, Dr. Isaac, accompanies
Wilberforce to Nice, i. 39 —
his religious principles, 43.

Milner, Dean, death of, ii. 225.

Mimicry, Wilberforce cured of
the practice of, by Lord Cam-
den, i. 26.

More, Hannah, i. 95, 97.

More, Martha, (sister of Hannah,)
death of, ii. 220.

N.

Neckar, i. 32.
Nelson, Lord, i. 319.
Newgate, visit to, i. £84.
Newton, Rev. John, visit to, i.

53 — letters to and from, 53,

212.

Not at home, i. 270.

O.

Owen, Robert, Esq. of Lanark,
ii. 113, 224.

IXDEX.

P.

Patronage, government, use and
abuse of, i. 235.

Perceval, Right Hon. Spencer,
his assassination, ii. 95.

Pitt, Right Hon. William, wit
of, i. 22 — intimacy with, 25 —
escapes being shot by Mr.
Wilberforce, 29 — visits France
with Wilberforce, 29 — advised
to become a suitor for Neckar's
daughter, 32 — political quar-
rel, 169 — renewal of friend-
ship, 175 — his duel with Tier-
ney, 231 — last illness, and
death, 321.

Praver, feelings respecting, ii.
320.

4 Practical Christianity,' work on,

i. Ill— published, 211.
Prince Regent, (afterwards

George IV.) interviews with,
ii 167.

Q.

Quaker, interview with, ii. 163.
Quakers' Relief Bill, i. 193.
Queen, ii. 228.

R.

Richmond, Rev. Legh, i. 250,

ii. 53.

Roman Catholic Emancipation, i.

268, ii. 42, 114.
Roberts, correspondence with, ii.

75.

Romilly, Sir S. speech of, ii. 22,
214.

S.

Sabbath, love for, i. 91.
St. Paul's smaller Epistles, ii.
318.

Scott, Rev. Thomas, i. 245, ii.
99, 242, 245.

Scott, Sir Walter, ii. 242, 274,
280.

Sedition Bills, i. 182— Yorkshire
meeting in support of, 185.

Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, Esq.
ii. 105, 275.

Sierra Leone, i. 123.

Slave Trade, Mr. Wilberforce's
condemnation of, at the age of
fourteen, i. 17 — causes which
led him to the Abolition of, 73
— Wilberforce brings forward
the question of Abolition, 79 —
Slave Trade Abolition Bill
passes the Commons, but is
lost in the Lords, 308 — Aboli-
tion Bill passes both Houses,
ii. 17.

Society for the Reformation of
Manners, establishment of, i.
70.

Southey, Robert, LL. D., ii. 180,

204, 206, 209, 210.
Stael, Madame de, ii. 134.
Sunday travelling, ii. 49.
Sunday Association, i. 223.

T.

Test and Corporation Acts, i.
105.

Thornton, John, Esq. i. 14 — letter
from, 5S — his death and cha-
racter, 113.

Toleration Act, i. 256.

Toussaint Louverture, ii. 317.

V.

Vaccination, i. 285.
Venn, Rev. John, i. 281.
Vicar of Wakefield, ii. 100.

W.

Waterloo, battle of, ii. 165.
Watts, Dr. Isaac, his 4 Hymns
for Children,' ii. 288.

340

INDEX.

Wesley, Rev. John, i. 100 — his

4 last words,' 117.
Wicked Williams, i. 219.
Windham, character of, ii. 244.
Wordsworth, ii. 207.
Wellington, Duke of, ii. 323.

WlLBERFORCE WlLLIAM,

1768. Transferred, on the
death of his father, to the
care of his uncle at Wim-
bledon, i. 14 — his early ac-
quaintance with Scripture,
and habits of devotion, 15.

1771. Removed, by his mother,
from the care of his uncle,
to Hall, i. 15 — enters into
the gaieties and amusements
of that town, 16 — his talents
for general society, and skill
in singing, 16.

1773. His early abomination
of the Slave Trade, i. 17.

1776. Entered at St. John's
College, Cambridge, i. 17 —
picture of his college life by
the Rev. T. Gisborne, 18—
by himself, and by Lord
Clarendon, 19.

1780. Resolves to enter upon
public life, and canvasses
for the town of Hull, i. 20
— repairs to London to se-
cure the non-resident free-
men, 20 — frequents the
gallery of the House of
Commons, 20 — forms an in-
timacy with Mr. Pitt, 20—
his coming of age celebrated,
20— returned for Hull, 21—
comes to London, and elect-
ed a member of the leading
clubs, and immersed in poli-
tics and fashion, cured of
gambling, 22.

1781. Makes his first speech
in the House of Commons,
i. 24 — residence at Rayrigg,
on the banks of Winder-
mere, 24.

1782. Opposes Lord North's
administration, i. 24 — inti-
macy with Mr. Pitt, 25—
danger from social qualities,
26.

1783. Cured by Lord Camden
of the art of mimicry, i. 26 —
hi3 dangers from the temp-
tation of ambition, 26 — fo-
reign tour with Pitt and
Eliot, 29.

1784. Great meeting at York
against the coalition, i. 34 —
forms the project of standing
for Yorkshire, 36 — suddenly
proposed to represent the
county, 36 — elected for
Hull, 37— travels to Nice,
accompanied by Isaac Mil-
ner, 42 — change of charac-
ter, 48 — explains his views
to his friends, 52 — interview
with Newton, 53.

1787. Establishes the Society
for the Reformation of Man-
ners, i. 70 — travels round
the country to insure the
success of his plan, 71 —
devotes himself to the Abo-
lition of the Slave Trade,
73.

1789. New year, commences
a time-account, i. 91 — pre-
pares to move for the Aboli-
tion, 93 — brings the question
before the House, 94— visits
Hannah More, 96 — visit to
Cheddar — assists in the es-
tablishment of schools there,
97.

1790. Supports Test Act, i.
105 — re-elected for York-
shire, 109.

1791. Moves the Abolition
question, i. 117.

1792. Carries motion for gra-
dual abolition, i. 132 — in per- '
sonal danger from Kimber,
135 — French citizenship

INDEX.

341

conferred on him by the
Convention, 140.

1793. His first great difference
with Pitt, i. 147 — is pre-
vented from speaking against
war with France, 148 —
brings forward his plan for
national religious instruction
for India, 152 — begins his
work on * Practical Chris-
tianity,' 156.

1794. Opposes Mr. Pitt, i. 168
— moves amendment to ad-
dress, 169.

1795. Offends opposition, 171
— his intercourse with Pitt
renewed, 175 — his consti-
tuents displeased, 178 —
tour in Yorkshire, 180 —
attends the Yorkshire meet-
ing in support of the Trea-
son and Sedition Bills, 185
— gives notice that he will
renew his Abolition motion,
190.

1796. Obtains leave to bring
in his Abolition Bill, i. 191
— defeated, 193 ; supports
Quakers' Relief Bill, 193—
sets off" for Hull, 194 — can-
vasses the county, 195 — is
re-elected, 196 — supports
motion for release of La
Fayette, 202.

1797. Illness, visit to Bath, i.
207—" Practical Christi-
anity" published, 211 — re-
solves to marry, 217 — his
marriage, 220 — engaged in
establishing the Church
Missionary Society, 226.

1798. Association for the Bet-
ter Observance of Sunday, i»
228 — again brings forward
the Abolition question, 230 —
gives notice of a motion on
Pitt's duel, and relinquishes
it on finding that Pitt would
retire from public life, 232 — '

writes letter on church pre-
ferment, 235 — his charities,
241 — engaged in establish-
ing the 1 Christian Observer,'
244 — exertions on behalf of
Jersey Methodists, 245.

1799. Brings forward his mo-
tion for immediate Abolition,
i. 247 — supports Lord Bel-
grave's Sunday Newspaper
Bill, 250 — temporary retire-
ment to Bath, 251.

1800. Occupied about scar-
city, i. 256 — defeats an at-
tempt to alter Toleration
Act, 257 — alarm for Mrs.
Wilberforce, 263 — engaged
in attempts to remedy the
distress of the lower classes,
266.

1801. Declines office, i. 269—
visits Bath, 270 — estimate
of Mr. Pitt, 272.

1802. Makes effort for general
Abolition, i. 274 — to prevent
importation of slaves into
Trinidad, 275— re-elected
for Yorkshire, 277.

1803. Visit to Finley in New-
gate, i. 283 — interest for
Jenner, 286 — engaged in
framing Bible Society, 288
— opposes ministry, 290 —
attends York meeting, 292
— providential escape, 299.

1804. Endeavouring to keep
Pitt and Addington in amity,
i. 304 — carries his Abolition
motion through the Com-
mons, 308.

1805. Abolition Bill defeated,
i. 315.

1806. Brought to town by
Pitt's illness, i. 321 — em-
ployed in promoting a sub-
scription to pay Pitt's death,
322.

1807. Engaged in carrying
Abolition Bill through both

342

INDEX.

Houses, ii. 17 — re-elected
for Yorkshire, 20 — opposes
grant for Maynooth College,
24 — Abolition Bill passed,
and congratulations, 25 —
his feeling on success, 26 —
sets off for York, 28—
speech at Hull, 30— extra-
ordinary canvass, 31 — im-
mense subscription, 34 —
is returned for the sixth
time, 34.

1808. Efforts for benefit of
India, ii. 39 — Opposes May-
nooth College grant, but
supports Roman Catholic
Emancipation, 42 — active on
Smithfield market Commit-
tee, 43 — prevents Sunday
travelling to Parliament, 49.

1809. Attends Bible Society
anniversary, ii. 50 — retires
to parsonage near Newport
Pagnell, 52.

1810. Opposes motion for
sending Sir Francis Burdett
to the tower, ii. 58 — serious
accident, 59.

1811. Befriends dissenters, ii.
72 — opposes war with Ame-
rica, 74 — correspondence
with Mr. Roberts, 75 — deci-
sion to retire from the repre-
sentation of Yorkshire, 84.

1812. Efforts to prevent war
with America, ii. 90 — pro-
mote Christianity in India,
92 — his exertions for the
welfare of religious socie-
ties, 94 — supports provision
for Mr. Perceval's family,
97 — announces his determi-
nation to retire from York-
shire, 101 — is returned for
the borough of Bramber, 105.

1813. Supports motion for
Roman Catholic Emancipa-
tion, i. 114 — efforts for Chris-
tianizing India, 117 — East
India measure carried, 124,

1814. Exertions for relief and
instruction of Lascars in
England, ii. 131 — and pro-
curing aid for German suf-
ferers, 133 — engaged on let-
ter to the Emperor Alexan-
der, 141 — censures treaty
with France, 144— inter-
view with Emperor Alexan-
der, 145.

1815. Buonaparte abolishes
Slave Trade, ii. 154 — death
of Henry Thornton and
John Bowdler, 155 — sup-
ports Corn Law Bill, and
his house endangered by the
rioters, 159 — reflections on
the battle of Waterloo, 165
— interview with Prince
Regeut, 167 — death of Mrs.
Henry Thornton, 167.

1816. Efforts for emancipation,
ii. 170 — death of his sister,
173 — made member of Se-
cret Committee, 176.

1817. Correspondence with his
children, ii. 178 — busy on
Haytian correspondence,
194.

1818. Visit to the Lakes, ii.
203 — makes efforts for bene-
fit of Hayti, 211.

1819. Supports Quakers' pe-
tition on severity of Penal
Code, ii. 214 — attends nu-
merous annual public meet-
ings, 214 — correspondence
with his children, 216 —
opposes motion on Owen of
Lanark's plan, 224.

1820. Sick-bed visits, ii. 225—
engaged in proceedings re-
lating to the conduct of
Queen Caroline, 228.

1821. Supports motion for re-
storing Queen's name to the
Liturgy, ii. 234 — contem-
plates retirement from pub-
lic life, 236 — his secret
thoughts on recovery, 236 —

INDEX.

343

death of his eldest daughter,
237 — takes retrospect of past
life, 239.
1822. Takes retrospect of his
college life, 246.

1523. Intrusts the cause of
Slavery Emancipation to
Mr. Fowell Buxton, ii. 252.

1524. His declining health, ii.
262 — his last speech in Par-
liament, 262.

1825. Projects Bill for lessen-
ing the number of oaths, ii.
266 — retires from Parlia-
ment, 268 — purchases High-
wood Hill, 272.

1826. Settles at High wood,
ii. 280.

1827. Mode of passing his time
at Highwood, ii. 284.

1828. Engaged in preparations
for erecting his chapel on
Highwood Hill, ii. 294.

1831. Leaves his house at
Highwood, ii. 301.

1832. Retirement to his sons'
parsonages in Kent and the
Isle of Wight, ii. 301—
mode of passing his day, 305
— his feelings at this time
on the Slave Trade, and on
the principle of compensa-
tion, 311.

1833. Last visit to Bath, ii. 312
— last illness — his calmness
of mind — his conversations,
315.

Y.

Yorkshire meeting, i. 35.
Yorkshire, first election for, i. 37.

second do. i. 109.

third do. i. 277.

great contest, ii. 27.