"Dear Wilberforce,—The breaking up of Parliament, advanced as the season is, I can hardly help regretting on another account. One wants a means of publishing the abominable backwardness in which things are with respect to defence: so as literally to put us in the situation, described by some writer in theMoniteur, namely that if fifty thousand men can anyhow get on shore, they must conquer the island. What shall we say to the fact, that at the end of now more than five months since the King's message not a single ball cartridge (I suppose) has been fired from one end of the country to the other, unless perhaps a few that I have desired to be fired just by me in Norfolk, and some that I hear Grey has been using upon the same principle in Northumberland?—that the corps, which have been raising, such as they are, remain to this moment for the greater part without arms?—that excepting, I am afraid, a very few thousand men to the army of reserve, not the smallest addition has been or can be made to a force truly regular, such as can alone be opposed upon equal terms to the troops by which we shall be invaded?—and that the whole assistance, that would be to be received from works, of whatever sort, is all yet to be begun, and evensettled? When men talk of the difficulties and impracticability of invasion, of the impossibility of conquering a country such as this, they say what may be true, but which is certainly not so for any reasons which they can, or at least which they do, give. It is all a kind of loose, general vague notion founded on what they have been accustomed to see and to conceive, to which the answer is that so was everything which we have seen successively happen for these last fourteen years. Considering things not in much detail, but upon principles somewhat less general than those which I have been alluding to, I can see no impossibility in the supposition of two armies landing in different places of from twenty to thirty thousand men each, of their beating, severally, the troops immediately opposed to them, and that having nothing then to encounter but volunteers and yeomanry, and other troops of this description, in the midst of all the confusion and panick which would then prevail, that they might advance to London or wherever else they pleased. What the further consequences might be, one has no pleasure in attempting to trace; but I should be obliged to anyone who would show me some distinct limits to them. The persons to do this are, I am sure, not those who talk so glibly of crushing and overwhelming, and smothering, and I know not what all; without the least idea howany of these things are to be done, while the persons attacking us know how these things are, sometimes at least, not done, by the example of the numerous countries which they have overrun in spite of all such threatened opposition. I shall go from here, that is from London, as soon as I have settled some necessary business, and see whether I can be of any use in Norfolk, though I do not perceive how with the aid of only a single regiment of militia (all our present force) we are to stop a body of even one thousand men, or how for the present, anything at all can be done, when there is not as yet a provision for even the delivery of arms. All the firelocks which they have as yet got immediately about here have been sent down at my own expense. My chief hopes are I confess that Buonaparte may, for some reason or another, not come, or at least for some time; but what foundation there is for any such hope I confess I do not know. Forgive my running on at this rate. The importance of the subject would certainly warrant me if I had anything new to say.
"Yours very truly,"W. Windham."
Lord Chatham[36]at that time Master-General of the Ordnance, writes on the same subject: at any ratethere were "one hundred thousand pikes ready for the defence of the country, but there was an indisposition to take them."
Lord Chatham to Mr. Wilberforce."St. James' Square,"September 2, 1803.
"I had certainly felt it my duty (as only following up the plan proposed before I came to the Ordnance) to endeavour to restore at the Peace, and with such improvements as could be suggested, the manufacture of the old Tower musquet, which our troops used to have, but which the necessities of the late war, and the naked state of our arsenals at its commencement, had obliged us to depart from, and to have recourse to an inferior arm. I found of course considerable opposition to any improvement, not only from the manufacturers, but from all the inferior servants of the Ordnance. This was, however, nearly surmounted, and the manufacture of the better sort of arm on the point of taking place, when this sudden and unprecedented demand for arms took place. I ought here to state that had it not been with a view to improvement, and intending gradually to dispose of those of inferior quality through the medium of the India Company, we should not have been, previous to the war breaking out, carrying on any manufacture of arms, our arsenals being overflowing, calculating on the mostextended scale the Department had ever been called upon to furnish. I have, however, in consequence of the extraordinary calls of the present crisis, determined to use every effort to meet it, and directions have been given to the Board of Ordnance to revert to the same arm as was made last war, and to manufacture to the utmost possible extent the musquet of the India pattern. You will easily believe I must have felt some reluctance in being obliged to take this step after all the pains I have bestowed, but I hope I have judged for the best. I have great satisfaction in thinking that the stock of arms we possess will enable us in the first instance, to arm to a considerable extent perhaps all that is really useful, and as arms come in, which with the exertions of the manufacturers they will do quickly, and with the aid of what we expect from abroad the remainder will be provided before long. We have already one hundred thousand pikes, and can increase them rapidly, but in general there is an indisposition to take them. I should like much to talk over with you, not only the subject of arms, but the whole question of volunteering which I contemplate as a most serious one. Excuse great haste with which I have written, and with Lady Chatham's very best remembrances to you,
"Believe me, yours very sincerely,"Chatham."
Henry Bankes, the old friend of both Pitt and Wilberforce, writes on the political situation in 1807 as follows:—
Mr. Bankes to Mr. Wilberforce."Kingston Hall,"January 1, 1807.
"My Dear Wilberforce,—Upon perusing the French papers I am well satisfied with the conduct of our Government. The tone is firm and uniform, and the demands such that we might have felt extremely happy to have made peace if we could have obtained them. There is somewhat of a blundering about the basis, which you will recollect Lord Malmesbury wrote so much ingenious nonsense about upon a former occasion, and it is to be lamented that Mr. Fox (whose letters upon the whole do him great honour) laid down an indistinct and indefinite basis in general terms of loose construction instead of binding that Proteus, his friend Talleyrand, to whom in his first address he professes the most perfectattachment(what a word from a Minister not born in the days of Charles II.!) to the sense in which he meant to interpret, fairly as I think, his words, and the words of his master.
"Nothing can equal the shabbiness, chicanery, and double dealing of the French negotiators, and their proceedings do in fact but little creditto their understandings, if they have any opinion of ours.
"Believe me, my dear Wilberforce,"Most sincerely yours,"Henry Bankes."
Lord Harrowby, who twice refused the Premiership, writes of the state of parties in 1809.
Lord Harrowby to Mr. Wilberforce.Friday, September 22, 1809.
"Dear Wilberforce,—You must have thought me a great bear not to have thanked you sooner for your kind recollection of my wish to see a sketch of Mrs. H. More's rustic building. It is much more finished than I wished, and shall be sent to Kensington as soon as Mrs. Ryder has taken a slight sketch of it.
"I have, since I received it, taken two journies into Devonshire, upon Maynooth business, and have not had, when in town, a spare moment from Indian and domestic torments. The history of the latter could not be put upon paper, and if it could, would be as voluminous as an Indian despatch. You know enough of the parties not to suspend your opinion till you know as much as is necessary to form it. The Duke of Portland's resignation has only accelerated the crisis, and you know enough of Perceval to be sure that we are not broken up, becauseheinsists upon having the whole power inhis own hands, and will not serve under any third person. Under these circumstances, and a thousand others, there seemed no resource left, but to attempt an overture to Lord Grey and Grenville jointly, which is made with the King's consent and authority. If it is met in the spirit in which it is made, I trust it will be successful. Whatever we may bedrivento do, if they shut their ears to the proposal of an extended and combined administration, we shall not, in my opinion, have been justified in our own eyes or in those of the country, if any party feelings prevented us fromendeavouring bonâ fideto form such a Government as may both protect the King, and be fit for these times. They are, I believe, as little able to form a separate Government as ourselves, unless they mean to re-unite themselves with those at whose proceedings they were so evidently alarmed last year. If they come in alone by force, they will have the Catholic question as a millstone round their necks. The very fact of an union with us who are known to entertain a decidedly opposite opinion upon that question (some of us for ever, and all during the King's life) would enable them to get rid of it for the present, as, without any pledge, which, after all that has passed, could neither be asked nor given, that question could never be made a Government question without the immediate dissolution of the administration.
"You express a very flattering satisfaction at my return to public life. It will probably be a very short excursion, and certainly a most painful one. I look for no comfort but in planting turnips in my Sabine farm.
"Yours ever most sincerely,"Harrowby."
Lord Erskine writes in 1813, to Wilberforce:—
"I cannot sufficiently discharge a duty I owe to the public without telling you what I think of the speech you sent me on the Christian question in India. The subject, though great and important, was local and temporary; but the manner in which you treated it made your speech of the greatest value in the shield of Christianity that eloquence and faith could possibly have manufactured.
"I read it with the highest admiration, and as I am now a private man for the remaining years of my life, I may say, without the presumption of station to give weight to my opinion, that it deserves a place in the library of every man of letters, even if he were an atheist, for its merit in everything that characterises an appeal to a Christian assembly on the subject of Christianity. With the greatest regard I ever am,
"My dear sir,"Your most faithful servant,"Erskine."
Rowland Hill, the celebrated preacher, the disciple of Whitefield, and the founder of the Surrey Chapel, writes to bring before Wilberforce's notice the question of "untaxed worship," with regard to his chapel.
Rev. Rowland Hill to Mr. Wilberforce.
"Surrey Church,
"April 16, 1814.
"My dear sir,—Another prosecution for poor rates on our chapel has commenced. Though the appellant, Mr. Farquarson, a man of no character and involved in debt, is the ostensible person, yet all the evil arises from a Mr. Whitlock, who has a place in the lottery office under Government, who probably might have been quiet had he received a hint from the Government that his designs were not correspondent with their wishes. As matters are, the most vexatious and perplexing consequences must be the result. Different persons are subpœna'd down as far as Rygate, while these large expensesa third time overis the least of the evil that must result. If they gain a verdict, for the sake of thousands of religious people that must be ruined by such a taxation, we must and shall resist. Surely the present mild Government will not suffer us to be deprived of the privilege of untaxed worship that we have uninterruptedly so long enjoyed.
"If, dear sir, you could but hint to Mr. Vansittart what must be the result of his neglecting to answer our respectful petitions so as to obtain some redress on our behalves, thousands would have to bless you, and none more so than
"Yours most respectfully,"Rowland Hill.
"It should appear according to the new French constitution that our religious liberties in England are soon likely to be much inferior to those in France.
"We humbly conceive we have some little claim on the attention of the Government against these vexatious disputes, having made the largest collection of any place of worship in the kingdom on different patriotic calls."
It will be remembered that when the Duke of Wellington was ambassador to Paris in 1814 he took up very warmly the question of the Slave Trade, himself circulating in Paris Wilberforce's letter to his Yorkshire constituents on the subject, which Madam de Staël had translated at the Duke's suggestion, and also undertaking to disperse Wilberforce's pamphlet to Talleyrand. The Duke writes from Paris, December 14, 1814.
The Duke of Wellington to Mr. Wilberforce.
"It is impossible to describe the prejudice of all classes here upon the subject, particularly those of our determined enemies, the principal officers andemployésin the public departments. I was in hopes that the King's measures had changed the public opinion in some degree, of which the silence of the public journals appeared an evidence. But I found yesterday that I was much mistaken and that the desire to obtain the gain expected in the trade is surpassed only by that of misrepresenting our views and measures, and depreciating the merit we have in the abolition. I was yesterday told gravely by the Directeur de la Marine that one of our objects in abolishing the Slave Trade was to get recruits to fight our battles in America! and it was hinted that a man might as well be a slave for agricultural labour as a soldier for life, and that the difference was not worth the trouble of discussing it."
The Duke goes on to complain that what was taking place in Paris as to the Slavery question had got into the English newspapers.
The Duke of Wellington to Mr. Wilberforce.
"I am quite convinced that the only mode in which the public opinion upon it here can be brought to the state in which we wish to see it, is to keep the question out of discussion in England by public bodies and by the newspapers, and I must say that it is but fair towards the King of France not to make public in England that which he has not published to his subjects. We shall do good in this question in France only in proportion as we shallanticipate and carry the public opinion with us; and in recommending to avoid discussion at present in order to make some progress in the opinion of France, I may lay claim to the merit of sacrificing the popularity which I should have acquired by having been the instrument to prevail upon the French Government to prevent the renewal of the trade on that part of the coast on which we had effectually abolished it during the war. I see that Mr. Whitbread mentioned the subject at a public meeting in the city, which I hope will be avoided at least till the French Government will have carried into execution all it proposes to do at present.
"Ever, my dear sir, yours most faithfully,"Wellington."
The Duke of Wellington's letter to General Macaulay is on the same subject: he says that in the case of the Slave Trade he could only be successful in France by being secret. He evidently disapproves of the people "who will have news and newspapers at their breakfasts," and thinks that the great cause had suffered from prematurely published reports.
The Duke of Wellington to General Macaulay."Paris,December 22, 1814.
"My dear Macaulay,—I received only yesterday your letter of the 9th, and I had already received one from Mr. Wilberforce on the samesubject, to which I have written an answer. I am quite certain that he has nothing to say to the publication in question.
"It is, I believe, very true that secrecy in such a matter cannot be expected, but the people of England ought to advert to this circumstance when they are pushing their objects, and if they will have news and newspapers at their breakfasts they should show a little forbearance towards their Governments, if Foreign Courts are a little close towards their agents. In the case of the Slave Trade I could be successful in this country only by being secret, and in proportion as we should be secret. And in point of fact I have found the agents of this Government much more disposed lately to oppose our views than they were six weeks ago, and I have been reproached with having allowed what has been done to be published in our newspapers.
"I must observe also that though Mr. Wilberforce could not prevent what was published from appearing in the newspapers, Mr. Whitbread might have avoided to mention the subject at a public meeting held in London upon some other subject; but the truth is that we mix up our party politics with our philanthropy and everything else, and I suspect we don't much care what object succeeds or fails provided it affects the Ministers of the day.
"Matters here are apparently in the same state as when you went away, but I believe are really in a better state; the appointments of Monsieur Didule to the Police and of Marshal Soult to the War Department have done some good.
"Ever yours,"Wellington."
Wilberforce was a member of a committee for the relief of the "poor German sufferers," the wounded Prussians in 1814-15. The translation of Marshal Blucher's letter to the Managing Committee after Waterloo is as follows.[37]
"Chatillon Sur Sambre,"June 24, 1815.
"Are you now satisfied? In eight days I have fought two bloody battles, besides five considerable engagements. I have taken one fortress, and keep three more surrounded. Yesterday the worthy Wellington was with me: we are agreed, we go hand in hand: the blockaded fortresses will not stop our operations, and if the Austrians and Russians do not speedily push forward, we shall finish the game ourselves. Farewell, and remember me to all England.
"Blucher.
"It is all very well, but I have twenty-two thousand killed and wounded. It is one consolation that they fell in the cause of humanity. I hope in England care will be taken of our suffering brethren; put it to the feelings of Mr. Wilberforce and other friends."
In a later letter to Wilberforce, Marshal Blucher disclaims the idea that personal affection for himself had had anything to do with the unexampled liberality of the English to his suffering fellow countrymen. For this liberality he begs to be allowed to offer other motives. 1. The flattering description by the Duke of Wellington of the conduct of the Prussians at the Battle of Waterloo; 2. The command of the Prince Regent to make collections for them in all the churches of Great Britain; and 3. Wilberforce's "own noble exertions in their behalf." He entreats Wilberforce to be the organ of his gratitude to the whole English nation.
Marshal Blucher to Mr. Wilberforce."Bonn,December 7, 1815.
"Sir,—Your letter dated the 31st of October, reached me in safety, and with it the cheering intelligence that the English nation, and all the subscribers for the relief of the Prussians who have suffered in the present war, and for the survivors of those who have fallen, have borne an honourabletestimony to their lively interest in the cause, by the greatest and most unexampled liberality.
"In your letter, sir, you are so good as to say, that it is in some measure owing to the personal affection felt for me by your countrymen, that this liberality has exceeded any which in similar circumstances has ever been exhibited; and you appeal to my own experience in the support of this assertion. It is true that during my residence in England I met everywhere with the most flattering reception; and I hope I shall always remember it with gratitude. But this very recollection confirms my belief, that the imagination of my services was magnified by that affectionate goodwill which is always the result of personal intercourse. I cannot otherwise account for the attentions which I received.
"But, sir, allow me to say that other motives than those of personal goodwill to me have quickened the exertions of the British nation for the relief of the suffering Prussians. I allude to the flattering description of their conduct at the battle of Waterloo, by the most noble the Duke of Wellington, and to the command of His Royal Highness the Prince Regent, to make collections for them in all the churches of Great Britain; neither let me forget to mention as a most powerful cause your own noble exertions in their behalf.
"Allow me, sir, to present you my most cordial thanks for this fresh service which you have rendered to suffering humanity. Let me also entreat you, my truly noble friend, you, who so richly deserve the blessings of the whole human race, for having so courageously defended their rights, to be the organ of my gratitude, and to present my acknowledgments to the whole English nation for their very generous assistance to my brave companions in arms, and to the survivors of those who have fallen. May this liberality, which we cannot but receive as an undoubted proof of the truest friendship and esteem, prove a fresh bond of union between us. We fought for the highest blessings which human nature is capable of enjoying—for Liberality and Peace. May our high-spirited people be firmly united in so noble a confederacy, and may that union never be interrupted.
"Much as, at my advanced age, I cannot but feel the necessity of repose, still should it please Providence to prolong my life, I shall yet hope once more to revisit England, and to repeat my thanks for the sympathy of that generous nation.
"I entreat you to accept the assurances of my sincere esteem and high consideration; and I have the honour to remain, sir, your most devoted servant,
"Blucher."
Lord Holland,[38]described as "truly fascinating, having something of his uncle's good humour," by Wilberforce, writes of Abolition to him in 1815, and thinks "the cause had been very coldly supported, if not actually betrayed, at Paris, at Madrid, and at Rio Janeiro; and that we ought to have imposed conditions on this subject when Ferdinand VII. wanted money, instead of giving him the money first."
Lord Holland to Mr. Wilberforce."Holland House,"November 13, 1815.
"Dear Sir,—I heard that you were anxious to get some paper on the Slave Trade translated into Italian. An Italian gentleman who is upon a visit to me will, I am sure, very willingly undertake it, and is well qualified for the task, as he writes his language with great elegance and understands ours. I am afraid you will not find his Holiness as much disposed to anathematise rapine and murder committed under the sanction of the powerful Crown of Spain, as to disdain the extravagances of the Catholicks in Ireland. There was no difficulty in abolishing the French Slave Trade last year but in the breasts of the Bourbons and their adherents. Bonaparte bydoing it at once lost no adherents either in France or in the colonies, and the repugnance felt in 1814 to the measureat Courtoriginated from their persuasion that the principles of all Abolitionists, as well as of all toleration in religion, are more or less connected with notions of political liberty which they know to be incompatible with their system of Government. True French Royalists, and many English Royalists too, make no difference between you and me or between me and Tom Paine. We are all equally heretics in Religion and Jacobins in Politics. There is therefore nothing to be done with that class of men in the great cause of Abolition, but by fear. We have already lost many opportunities, and if we do not now insist on Portugal and Spain abandoning the trade, and on France and the other powers treating it as piracy if they do not, we shall have shifted the ignominy from ourselves, but we shall not have rescued the world from the evil. May I ask if you understand why the complete abolition in France (if that measure of Bonaparte be really and in proper form confirmed) does not make part of the treaty? It seems to me that at Paris, at Madrid, and at Rio Janeiro the cause has been very coldly, or at least very inefficiently, supported, if it has not been actually betrayed. When Ferdinand VII. wanted money we might have imposedconditions on this and on other subjects, but we gave the money first, and he now sets us at defiance. With many apologies for the length of my letter,
"I am, sir, yours truly,"Vassall Holland."
Early in 1825, William Wilberforce's brilliant Parliamentary career came to an end by his own voluntary retirement. The Speaker's[39]letter is the expression of a very general feeling both in the House and outside it.
The Right Hon. Speaker of the House ofCommons to Mr. Wilberforce."Palace Yard,"February 19, 1825
"My dear Sir,—With respect to your quitting us for more private retirement, permit me to say with the truest sincerity, and in accordance I am persuaded with the unanimous sentiment of the whole House, that we shall feel we have lost one of our brightest ornaments, and whatever may be the honest variance of opinion on political questions, I know we must all be of one mind in regretting the absence of one as distinguished for every moral virtue as for the brilliancy of his talents.
"That retirement into more private life maycontribute largely to your personal ease, and to the entire restoration of your health, is, my dear sir, the sincere wish of your most faithful and respectful
"Friend and servant,"C. Manners Sutton."
Lord John Russell's answer to Wilberforce's anti-bribery suggestions at the time of the first Reform Bill is given below. It is marked "kind and pleasing" by Wilberforce.
Lord John Russell to Mr. Wilberforce."South Audley Street,"June 3.
"My dear Sir,—I was very much gratified at receiving your letter, not only for the kind sentiments personally expressed towards me, but still more for the high testimony of your authority in favour of the course I have been pursuing. The resolutions I lately moved were directed against the very practice of which you complain in your letter; only instead of an election committee I propose a separate public committee for the purpose. The expenses of an election committee are such as to deter any from seeking that remedy but a candidate who has hopes of acquiring the seat himself, and the public is wronged for want of some one bound over to prosecute these offences.
"After all, we must trust more to the frequentcanvassing of the question, and the improvement of moral feeling, which may be expected from education, than to the letter of any law that we can frame.
"I showed your letter to Mr. Pitt and Mr. Wynne, and should have been glad to have read it to the House, but I did not like to do so without your permission. Wishing you many years of happiness in your retirement, enhanced by reflecting on the usefulness of your past life,
"I remain, yours faithfully,"J. Russell."
Wilberforce writes on the same subject in October, 1831, to an old friend:—
"I cannot but think the Lords managed it very ill not to attempt the discovery of some compromise, giving up the rotten boroughs, granting members to great towns, accepting the new county members, and yet somewhat raising the qualification (surely no pauper should have the right of voting); this must at least have prevented the common fraud now practised on the people, that of imputing to those who voted at all against the Bill that they wished to retain all the worst abuses, which, in fact, they were as willing as the reformers to abolish. But I must break off. You, and I hope I, are prompted to say with old Hooker, I have lived long enough to see thatthe world is made up of perturbations. But, blessed be God, there remaineth a rest for the people of God. May I be permitted to meet you there, my dear sir."
On the different effects of the Oxford and Cambridge system on the minds of young men, Wilberforce writes to a friend:—
Mr. Wilberforce to Mr. William Gray."December 31, 1830.
"It is curious to observe the effects of the Oxford system in producing on the minds of young men a strong propensity to what may be termed Tory principles. From myself and the general tenour of our family and social circle, it might have been supposed that my children, though averse to party, would be inclined to adopt Liberal or, so far as would be consistent with party, Whig principles, but all my three Oxonians are strong friends to High Church and King doctrines. The effects I myself have witnessed would certainly induce me, had I to decide on the University to which any young protegé of mine should go, were he by natural temper or any other causes too prone to excess on the Tory side, I should decidedly send him to Cambridge, Trinity; were the opposite the case he should be fixed at Oriel, Oxford.
"As for the gentleman you mention,[40]his character is not to be expressed in a few words. Of his extraordinary powers no one ever entertained a doubt. There are also very pleasing traits of private character: I have been assured of his incessant and kind attentions to his old mother. On his brother's failing, I believe, in business, he paid his debts to a large amount and took on himself, I am assured, before being in office, the charge of his eight or nine children. Of his own little girl he was excessively fond, and he was always kind in what concerned friends or acquaintances. I cannot also but hope that he has seen so much of religious men as almost to have superior confidence in them. But you suppose me to be more personally acquainted with him than I am."
The next letter, to Mr. Manning, contains an allusion to his son Henry, afterwards Cardinal Manning, of whom it will be noted that Wilberforce "forms sanguine hopes that he will be a blessing to his fellow creatures."
At the time the letter was written, Wilberforce's large fortune had been seriously diminished, though he was far from being, as his letter would lead one to suppose, in the same unfortunate position as Mr. Manning.[41]The effect of his own loss wasas he says, "greatly to augment his happiness." Enough was left for his comfort. It is true he gave up his home, and was no longer able to practise indiscriminate hospitality; also his subscriptions had to be curtailed, such as those to the York charities, as to which he "had been reminded in 1831 that they were larger than those of any other subscriber."
Mr. Wilberforce to Mr. Manning."June 11, 1832.
"I am truly rejoiced, my dear friend, to hear that you are so comfortably circumstanced. I also have abundant cause for thankfulness. The loss of fortune was graciously delayed in my instance until all my children having been educated, and two of them supplied with comfortable residences (Robert, my second son, recently by the perfectly spontaneous kindness of Lord Brougham), so that the effect of my loss of fortune has been greatly to augment Mrs. W.'s and my own happiness. What can be more delightful than to be the daily witness of our children having a large measure of conjugal happiness, the best of this world's goods, while at the same time they are discharging conscientiously and zealously the important duties of the pastoral office. It gave me real pleasure that your son had given up the situation at the Treasury for the Church. I haveheard such an account of him from my sons, as gives me reason to form sanguine hopes that he will be a blessing to his fellow creatures."
The next extract refers to the painting of the well-known picture of Wilberforce now in the National Portrait Gallery.
Sir Thomas Lawrence to Mr. Wilberforce.
"You make a too flattering apology for sending me but your name in your own handwriting. I hardly know what other word in our language could boast of equal interest, and you may be assured, my dear sir, that by those the nearest to me it will be equally prized when the person to whom it is written can no longer produce it as evidence of his too fortunate career."
The date of the following lines of Cowper and also of Hayley is not given. They are marked "Verses sent to me by Cowper and Hayley."
To William Wilberforce, Esqre.
SONNET.
Thy country, Wilberforce, with just disdain,Hears thee by cruel men and impious calledFanatic, for thy zeal to loose th' enthralledFrom exile, public sale, and slav'ry's chain.Friend of the poor, the wronged, the fetter gall'd,Fear not lest labour such as thine be vain.Thou hast achieved a part—hast gained the earOf Britain's senate to thy glorious cause;Hope smiles, joy springs, and though cold caution pauseAnd weave delay, the better hour is nearThat shall remunerate thy toils severeBy peace for Afric fenced with British laws.Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and loveFrom all the good on earth, and all the Blest above!William Cowper.
Thy country, Wilberforce, with just disdain,Hears thee by cruel men and impious calledFanatic, for thy zeal to loose th' enthralledFrom exile, public sale, and slav'ry's chain.Friend of the poor, the wronged, the fetter gall'd,Fear not lest labour such as thine be vain.Thou hast achieved a part—hast gained the earOf Britain's senate to thy glorious cause;Hope smiles, joy springs, and though cold caution pauseAnd weave delay, the better hour is nearThat shall remunerate thy toils severeBy peace for Afric fenced with British laws.Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and loveFrom all the good on earth, and all the Blest above!
William Cowper.
To William Wilberforce, Esqre, on the preceding Sonnet.
When Virtue saw with brave disdainLucre's infuriate sons profaneHer Wilberforce's worth;As she beheld with generous ire,His image fashioned for the fireOf diabolic mirth:"Firm friend of suffering slaves!" she cried,"These frantic outrages deride,While I protect thy name!Soon shall one dear selected handRichly o'erpay at my command,Indignity with Fame:"Since thou hast won, in Nature's cause,My fondest love, my prime applause,Thy Honour is my care;Now shall my favourite Bard be thine:My Cowper, guard of glory's shine!Shall grave thy merits there."
When Virtue saw with brave disdainLucre's infuriate sons profaneHer Wilberforce's worth;As she beheld with generous ire,His image fashioned for the fireOf diabolic mirth:
"Firm friend of suffering slaves!" she cried,"These frantic outrages deride,While I protect thy name!Soon shall one dear selected handRichly o'erpay at my command,Indignity with Fame:
"Since thou hast won, in Nature's cause,My fondest love, my prime applause,Thy Honour is my care;Now shall my favourite Bard be thine:My Cowper, guard of glory's shine!Shall grave thy merits there."
William Hayley.
BIRTHPLACE OF WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, AT HULL.
BIRTHPLACE OF WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, AT HULL.
BIRTHPLACE OF WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, AT HULL.
HOME LETTERS.
The family letters which follow are some of a religious character, while others turn on more general topics.
Four letters written by Wilberforce to his daughter Elizabeth, aged fifteen at the date the correspondence begins, show the care with which he instilled into her mind all that he considered of most moment; also how he exercised "the privilege of a friend," for such he considered himself to his daughter, and "told her frankly all her faults."
Mr. Wilberforce to his daughter Elizabeth."November 30, 1816.
"This is but a short letter to my dear Elizabeth. When I do address my dear girl, I ought to consider how I can best testify my friendship: for friendship let there be between us; never can you have a friend more warmly attached to you or more interested in your welldoing and happiness than myself. But if we are to be friends, youmust allow me the privilege of a friend, a privilege by far the most valuable of all its excellencies. So thought your dear Uncle Stephen,[42]when in the very extreme bitterness of his grief, which was as great as that of any one I ever witnessed, though he is now able to control his feelings before company, he said to me while enlarging on the various particulars of my dear sister's extraordinary character, 'O, she was a friend to my soul! She told me frankly all my faults,' an office in which, I am obliged to confess, he charged me with having been deficient. This has arisen, however, solely from my scarcely ever having seen him alone, when only I could converse with him confidentially. But if I am to exercise this best prerogative, this most sacred and indispensable duty of friendship, it will be necessary for my dear Elizabeth to prepare her mind and temper for receiving it properly, and for deriving from it all the benefits it is capable of imparting. Shall I be honest, and I must be so or be silent; were I otherwise, the very sheet which I am writing would rise up in judgment against me at the last day; if then, I am frank and honest, I must declare to you, that it is on this quarter that it will be necessary for my dear girl to guard herself with the utmost watchfulness, and, still more, toprepare herselfwith conscientiouscare. This is what St. Paul terms "exercising herself to maintain a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man": what the Book of Proverbs styles, "keeping the heartwith all diligence:" for unless we have accustomed ourselves toself-suspicion, if I may use such a phrase, we never benefit as we might from the friendly reproofs of a real friend. We may receive his remarks with civility, and even give him credit for his kind intentions, but we shall be almost sure to let it appear to any acute observer at least, that we rather tolerate his frankness out of principle, or put up with it in consideration of the friendly motives by which it has been prompted, than that we listen to it with a sincere desire of profiting from it, still less that we welcome it as one of the most valuable services in design, even when not in fact, that could be rendered to us. The grand preparation that is needed is, Humility: that sense of our own infirmities and our own weakness, which is felt by every true, at least by every flourishing Christian. We read in the Scripture that 'our hearts are deceitful above all things:' by which is meant, that we are all prone to flatter ourselves, to form too high an estimate of our own good qualities, and too low an idea of our bad ones. Now it is the first office of the Holy Spirit to teach us toknow ourselves, and immediately tosuspectourselves as the first effect of that knowledge. Now be honest with yourself, my very dear child. Have you been accustomed to distrust the judgment you have been in the habit of forming of your own character, as you would have done if it had been formed and stated to you by any one whom you knew to be a notorious liar? Yet this is really the way in which we ought to feel; I know how difficult it is in practice from my own experience; and because it is so difficult, it is here that we need the special aid of the Holy Spirit, and should earnestly pray for His blessed influence to teach us to know ourselves. Be earnest, then, in prayer, my very dear Elizabeth, and frequent in self-examination on this very point. I have often detected my own self-partiality and self-deceit by observing how differently the same fault, be it small or great, appears to me when committed by myself, and when committed by others, how much more ready I am with apologies for it, or with extenuations for its guilt. If a servant has done anything wrong, or omitted some act of duty, I observehowit appears to me, and if I have done much the same fault, or been guilty of the same omission, how much less does it impress itself on me, how much sooner do I forget it. I assure you, I speak sincerely when I tellyou I find this the case with myself: now observe whether you do; and if so, then it will be a subject for humiliation before God, and a motive for earnest prayer. Let my dearest Lizzie be particularly watchful to improve the present season; for as you have heard me say, Christ—as is stated in Rev. iii.—'stands at the door and knocks,' that is, He uses particular events and circumstances of our lives, for impressing us with the importance of spiritual things, and if the event and the circumstances pass over without producing their proper effect, there is always a positive bad consequence. So much grace is, as it were expended on us in vain. The heart becomes harder and less favourably disposed on another occasion. And though we must not limit the grace and power of God, yet it is a great point to know what the Scripture (2 Cor. vi.) terms "our appointed time, our day of salvation." I am sure you find your heart softened and affected more than usual just now. O try, my beloved girl, to render this permanently, let me say eternally, useful to you. I understand you are reading Doddridge's 'Rise and Progress.' You cannot read a better book. I hope it was one of the means of turning my heart to God. Certainly, there are few books which have been so extensively useful. Pray over some of the prayers at theconclusion of the chapters; as, for instance, if I remember right, that at the end of the chapter, 'After a state of spiritual decay.' But I have not the book at hand, and cannot quote it from memory. Don't read this till you have half an hour's leisure."
Of the privilege of friendship alluded to in this letter, Wilberforce also writes later to his daughter Elizabeth: "You will never find telling Robert" (afterwards Archdeacon Wilberforce), "of any fault offend him, if you do it when you aretête à tête, and when he sees from your manner and from the circumstances that you can only have his happiness at heart, I mean that this friendly regard can alone prompt you to such a proof of real attachment."
Mr. Wilberforce to his daughter Elizabeth."Hastings,"January 17, 1817.
"My dearest Lizzy,—Your letter to-day gives me pleasure. We heard from Marianne (Thornton) of her having paid you a visit. Her friendly attachment to Barbara[43]and you, I account as one of the special blessings of Providence; and there are many particulars, though not all, in which I should be very glad to have her the object of your imitation. I am half asleep from not having had a good night, and find myself occasionally writing one word insteadof another—a slip which I sometimes witness in my dear Lizzy's case; I know not whether it be from the same cause, I hope not. For my last night's wakefulness arose in part 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 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, it chose to go its own way rather than mine. It is a delightful consideration, my dearest child, that there is a gracious and tender Saviour who, in our sleeping as well as waking hours, is watching over us for good, if we are of the number of those who look to Him habitually for consolation and peace, and such I trust will be more and more the case of my dear Elizabeth."
The next letter is in a more lively strain and explains to Elizabeth the system of Bishop Berkeley.
Mr. Wilberforce to his daughter Elizabeth."Highwood Hill,"July 13, 1830.
"My dear Lizzy,—If many intentions to write could be admitted as making up one letter, you would have to thank me for being so good a correspondent.But I fear that this is a mode of calculation that will only come into use, when the system of good Bishop Berkeley has become established. I cannot explain what this is so well as Robert could, but its distinctive principle is that there are no such things as substances. You may suppose that you have had the pleasure of re-visiting a very dear friend, called Miss Palmer, and you probably would assure me, if I asked you whether they still continued at the Hall any such vulgar practice as that of eating, that the turkies and fowls were as good and as freely bestowed as when I used to partake of them in earlier years. All mere delusion. All imagination. All ideal. There is no Elizabeth (she onlyappearedto occupy an ideal place in an ideal carriage, when she travelled down to Mosely and Elmdon), there is no Miss Palmer, nor are the fowls and turkies a whit more substantial than the supposed eaters of them, I really am serious—such is the system of one of the ablest and best of men (he was spoken of by Pope as 'Having every virtue under heaven'); he held that the Almighty formed us so as to have impressions produced on us as if these were realities, but that this was all. I little intended when I took up my pen to give you such a Lecture in Metaphysics. I am sure I have had a Lecture, a practical one, on the duty of bearing interruptions with good humour. This morning(it is now 4 p.m. and dinner taking on the table) I took up my pen at 10 o'clock, and my first thoughts were naturally drawn to you. Scarcely had I finished my first sentence when in came Knowles (as queer he is as ever) and announced Lord Teignmouth. Up I went to him in the drawing-room, and as cordial a shake of the hand he received from me as one friend can give to another. But I own I began to wish I could be in two places at once. I had secured as I thought, several hours of quiet, and my eyes happened to be better than for sometime past, and I was therefore hoping to pay away a great part of my epistolary arrears, when in comes my friend, and remains with me between three and four hours, refusing to stay dinner, but not departing till after the post had gone out. However, such incidents are salutary, they accustom us to bear with cheerfulness the little vexatious interruptions which people sometimes bear with less equanimity than more serious grievances. Here enter Uncle Stephen——But with some pressing I have got him to agree to stay till to-morrow morning, so I may finish my letter. I must first tell you what I think a remarkably well-expressed description of Lady Raffles, contained in a letter from the Duchesse de Broglie, to whom I gave Lady R. a letter of introduction—'C'est une personne qui inspire un profond interêt. Elle a tant de dignité et dedouceur.' The epithets appear to me very happy. And now, my dear Lizzy, I must conclude my very disjointed letter, writtenà plusiers reprisesas the French phrase it."
Elizabeth would seem to have written to her father as to her solitariness of spirit in so confidential a strain that his sympathy had been thoroughly awakened. In his answer he excuses himself for not having been more of a companion to her on the ground that he had been so long engaged in public business, and also that as he had been almost an old bachelor before he married, he had got out of the habit of tender attention to young women of education and delicacy; but he assures her she will always find in him unfeigned tenderness of spirit for all her feelings, and all her infirmities. His remedies for "solitariness of spirit" are most practical.
Mr. Wilberforce to his daughter Elizabeth."Highwood Hill,"July 26, 1830.
"My Very Dear Lizzy,—Though, owing to my having been betrayed into forgetfulness of the flight of time while sitting under the shade of the lime tree it is now so late that I shall not be able to write to you so fully as I wished and intended, I must not be so unjust to myself or so unkind to you as I certainly should be if I were not to reply toyour last interesting letter as soon as possible. And yet, my dear girl, it could be only from nervous sensibility that you could doubt of my putting the right construction on your opening your heart to me without disguise. I wish you could have seen the whole interior of mine when I had read through it: I am not ashamed to say that I melted into tears of affectionate sympathy. Your letter really contained nothing but what tended to call forth feelings of esteem and regard for you. My dear Lizzy, I will return your openness by a similar display of it. I will confess to you that I have not seldom blamed myself for not endeavouring more to cheer your solitary hours, when you have had no friend of your own sex to whom you could open your heart, and I will try to amend of this fault. My not walking with you more frequently has, however, been often caused by the circumstance you mention, that at the very hour at which I can get out, just when the post has departed, you are yourself employed in a way of which I always think with pleasure, and which I doubt not will bring down a blessing on your head. But there is another cause which may have some effect in rendering me less tenderly attentive than young women of education and delicacy like persons to be, and must in some measure find them, before they can open their hearts to them with unreserved freedom. I alludeto my having been so long and so constantly engaged in public business and having been almost an old bachelor before I married. Let my dear child, however, be assured that she will always experience from me an unfeigned tenderness of spirit and a kind consideration for all her feelings and even, shall I say it, all her infirmities. Meanwhile let me advise you, my dear child, whenever you do feel anything of that solitariness of spirit of which you speak, to endeavour to find an antidote for it in prayer. There is often much of bodily nervousness in it. I am ashamed to acknowledge that I am sometimes conscious of it myself. Another method which I would recommend to you for getting the better of it, is to engage in some active exertion, teaching some child, instructing some servant, comforting some poor sufferer from poverty and sickness. I deeply feel the Bishop and Mrs. Ryder's kindness to you, but it is of a piece with all their conduct towards me and mine. God bless them, I say from the heart."
In 1814, Mr. Wilberforce at the age of fifty-five, begins his correspondence with his son Samuel, aged nine. The father is already seeking for a proof of the grand change of conversion in his child.
Mr. Wilberforce to his son Samuel."September 13, 1814.
"I was shocked to hear that you are nine yearsold; I thought it was eight. You must take great pains to prove to me that you are nine not in years only, but in head and heart and mind. Above all, my dearest Samuel, I am anxious to see decisive marks of your having begun to undergo thegreat change. I come again and again to look to see if it really be begun, just as a gardener walks up again and again to examine his fruit trees and see if his peaches are set; if they are swelling and becoming larger, finally if they are becoming ripe and rosy. I would willingly walk barefoot from this place to Sandgate to see a clear proof of thegrand changebeing begun in my dear Samuel at the end of my journey."[44]
"March 25, 1817.
"I do hope, my dear Samuel, like his great namesake at a still earlier period of life, is beginning to turn in earnest to his God. Oh, 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 upon you—guard in like manner, I say, against wandering thoughts when you are at prayer either by yourself or in the family.[45]Nothinggrieves the Spirit more than our willingly suffering our thoughts to wander and fix themselves on any object which happens at the time to interest us."
"June 5, 1817.
"My Dear Samuel,—Loving you as dearly as I do, it might seem strange to some thoughtless people that I am glad to hear you are unhappy. But as it is about your soul, and as I know that a short unhappiness of this kind often leads to lasting happiness and peace and joy, I cannot but rejoice. I trust, my dear boy, it is the Spirit of God knocking at the door of your heart, as the Scripture expresses it, and making you feel uneasy, that you may be driven to find pardon and the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit, and so be made one of Christ's flock and be taken care of in this world and be delivered from hell, and be taken when you die, whether sooner or later, to everlasting happiness in heaven. My dearest boy, whenever you feel in this way, I beseech you, get alone and fall on your knees, and pray as earnestly as you can to God for Christ's sake to forgive you and to sanctify you, and in short to make you to be born again, as our Saviour expressed it to Nicodemus."
"July 19th.
"I will procure and send you Goldsmith's 'Grecian History,' if you will read it attentively, though it is by no means so good a history as Mitford's; it islittle better than an epitome. Let me tell you I was pleased with your skeleton of Mr. Langston's sermon, and I should be glad of such another bag of bones. My dear boy, whenever you feel any meltings of mind, any sorrow for sin, or any concern about your soul, do not, I beg of you, stifle it or turn away your thoughts to another subject, but get alone and pray to God to hear and bless you, to take away the stony heart and substitute a heart of flesh in its place."
"August 15th, 1817.
"The great rule practically for pleasing our Saviour in all the little events of the day is to be thinking of Him occasionally and trying to please Him, by not merely not doing evil, but by doing good; not merely negatively trying not to be unkind, not to be disobedient, not to give pain, but trying positively, tobe kind, to be obedient, to give pleasure."
"November 1, 1817.
"My very dear Samuel,—Though some company who are to dine with me are already in the drawing-room, I must leave them to themselves for two minutes while I express the very great pleasure I have received from Mr. Marsh's account of both my dear boys. Being a political economist, I cannot but admit the beneficial effects which always flow from the division of labour, and must thereforerather commend than blame the instance of it which is afforded by your writing the letter while Bob is building the house. It is quite a drop of balm into my heart when I hear of my dear boys going on well."
"May 2, 1818.
"Could you both but look into my heart and there see the tender and warm love I feel for you! How my heart bleeds at the idea of your being drawn into the paths of sin and bringing the grey hairs of your poor old father with sorrow to the grave—a most unlikely issue I do really hope; and, on the other hand, could you witness the glow of affection which is kindled by the prospect of your becoming the consolation of my declining years, you would want no more powerful motives to Christian obedience."
"April 25, 1818.
"Our West Indian warfare is begun, and our opponents are commencing in the way of some (I won't add an epithet) classes of enemies by the poisoned arrows of calumny and falsehood. But how thankful should we be to live in a country in which the law protects us from personal injury!"
"June 26, 1818.
"My dear children little think how often we parents are ruminating about them when we are absent from them, perhaps in very bustling sceneslike that from which I come. Mr. Babington is a candidate for the county of Leicester, and I really trust he will succeed; the two other candidates are Lord Robert Manners, the Duke of Rutland's brother, and Mr. Phillips, a country gentleman of large property. My dear Samuel, keep going on well. Prayer and self-denial, as you used to be taught when a very little boy, are the grand things."
"February 13, 1819.
"I am very glad that you like your new situation. One of the grand secrets to be remembered, in order to enable us to pass through life with comfort, is not to expect too much from any new place or plan, or from the accomplishment of any new purpose."
"March 12, 1819.
"On the whole, Mr. Hodson's report of you is a gratifying one. But there is one ground for doubts and fears, and I hope my beloved child will endeavour to brighten that quarter of my prospect. I fear you do not apply to your business with energy. This, remember, was your fault at Mr. Marsh's, and you alleged, not without plausibility, that this arose in a great degree from your wanting spirits, in consequence of your having no play-fellows for your hours of recreation, no schoolmates for your season of business. A horse never goesso cheerfully alone as when animated by the presence of a companion, and a boy profits from the same quickening principle. But my dearest Samuel has not now this danger to plead at Mr. Hodson's, and I hope he will now bear in mind that this indisposition to work strenuously[46]is one of his besetting sins."[47]
"May 22, 1819.
"I hear with pleasure of your goings on, and I may add that we all thought our dear boy greatly improved when he was last with us. How delightful will it be to me in my declining years to hear that my dearest Samuel is doing credit to his name and family!"
"May 25, 1819.
"I do not like to write merely on theoutsideof this cover, though I have time to insert very little within, yet as when you were a little boy I used to delight in taking a passing kiss of you, so now it is quite gratifying to exchange a salutation with you on paper, though but for a minute or two. The sight of my handwriting will call forth in the mind of my dear, affectionate Samuel all those images of parental and family tenderness withwhich the Almighty permits us to be refreshed when children or parents are separated from each other far asunder. You have a Heavenly Father, too, my dearest boy, who loves you dearly, and who has promised He will never leave you nor forsake you if you will but devote yourself to His service in His appointed way. And so I trust you are resolved to do. I hope you got your parcel safe, and that the lavender-water had not oozed out of the bottle; the cork did not seem tight. Farewell, my very dear Samuel."
"September 17, 1819.
"My Dear Boy,—It is a great pleasure to me that you wish to know your faults. Even if we are a little nettled when we first hear of them, especially when they are such as we thought we were free from, or such as we are ashamed that others should discover, yet if we soon recover our good-humour, and treat with kindness the person who has told us of them, it is a very good sign. It may help us to do this to reflect that such persons are rendering us, even when they themselves may not mean it, but may even only be gratifying their own dislike of us, the greatest almost of all services, perhaps may be helping us to obtain an eternal increase of our happiness and glory. For we never should forget that though we are reconciled to God through the atoningblood of Christ, altogether freely and of mere undeserved mercy, yet when once reconciled, and become the children of God, the degrees of happiness and glory which He will grant to us will be proportioned to the degree of holiness we have obtained, the degree (in other words) in which we have improved the talents committed to our stewardship."
"Weymouth,September, 1820.
"I have this day learned for the first time that there were to be oratorios at Gloucester, and that some of the boys were to go to them. I will be very honest with you. When I heard that the cost was to be half a guinea, I greatly doubted whether it would be warrantable to pay such a sum for such a performance for suchyouth. This last consideration has considerable weight with me, both as it renders the pleasure of the entertainment less, and as at your early age the sources of pleasure are so numerous. But my difficulties were all removed by finding that the money would not merely be applied to the use of tweedledum and tweedledee (though I write this, no one is fonder than myself of music), but was to go to the relief of the clergy widows and children. I say therefore yes. Q.E.D."
"September 4, 1820.
"I am persuaded that my dear Samuel willendeavour to keep his mind in such a right frame as to enable him to enjoy the pleasures of the scenes through which he is passing, and to be cheered by the consciousness that he is now carrying forward all the necessary agricultural processes in order to his hereafter reaping a rich and abundant harvest. Use yourself, dear boy, to take time occasionally for reflection. Let this be done especially before you engage in prayer, a duty which I hope you always endeavour to perform with all possible seriousness. As I have often told you, it is the grand test by which the state of a Christian may always be best estimated."
"Bath,September 23, 1820.
"Did you ever cross a river with a horse in a ferry boat? If so, you must have observed, if you are an observing creature, which if you are not I beg you will become with all possible celerity, that the said horse is perfectly quiet after he is once fairly in the boat—a line of conduct in which it would be well if this four-footed navigator were imitated by some young bipeds I have known in their aquatic exercitations. And so said animal continues—the quadruped I mean, mind—perfectly quiet until he begins to approach the opposite shore. Then he begins to show manifest signs of impatience by dancing and frisking sometimes to such a degree as to overset the boat, to the nosmall injury of others (for whom he very little cares) as well as himself. This is what may be well called making more haste than good speed. None the less, though I am fully aware that the same frisking quadruped is a very improper subject of imitation, not only to an old biped but to an experienced M.P. of forty years' standing, yet I find myself in a state of mind exactly like that of the horse above mentioned, though it has not the same effects on my animal powers, and though, being on dry land and in a parlour, not a boat, I might frisk away if I chose with perfect impunity to myself and others. But to quit metaphor which I have fairly worn out, or, rather, rode to death, when I was a hundred miles from my dear Samuel, though my affection for him was as strong and my sentiments and feelings as much employed in him as now, yet these are now accompanied with an impatient longing to extinguish the comparatively little distance that is between us, and to have my dearest boy not only in my heart but in my arms, and yet on reflection this very feeling is beneficial. I recollect that our separation is an act of self-denial, and I offer it up to my Saviour with a humble sense of His goodness, in subjecting me to such few and those comparatively such easy crosses. My dearest Samuel will remember to have our blessed Lord continually in remembrance,and by associating Him thus with all the little circumstances of life, it is that we are to live in His love and fear continually."
"November 20, 1820.
"We quite enjoyed your pleasure in Robert's visit. In truth the gratification we parents derive from our children's innocent, much more their commendable, enjoyments is one of the greatest of our pleasures."
"Bath,November 18, 1820.
"My dear Samuel.—I am sorry to hear that your examination is, or part of it at least, disadvantageous to you. Does not this arise in part from your having stayed with us when your school-fellows were at Maisemore? If so, the lesson is one which, if my dear boy duly digests it and bottles it up for future use, may be a most valuable one for the rest of his life. It illustrates a remark which I well remember in Bishop Butler's 'Analogy,' that our faults often bring on some bad consequence long after they have been committed, and when they perhaps have been entirely banished from our memory. Some self-indulgence perhaps may have lost us an advantage, the benefit of which might have extended through life. But it is due to my dear Samuel to remark that, though his stay was protracted a very little out of self-indulgence (as much ours as his), yet it was chieflyoccasioned by the necessity of his going up to London on account of his ancle. (By the way, tell me in two words—ancle better or worse oridem.) But my Samuel must not vex himself with the idea of falling below the boy who has commonly been his competitor, owing to his stay having prevented his reading what is to be in part the subject of the examination. It would really be quite wrong to feel much on this account, and that for several reasons. First, everybody about you will know the disadvantages under which you start, and will make allowances accordingly. Next, if you do as well or better in the parts youhaveread, you will show the probability of your having done well in the other also, if you had possessed with it the same advantage. And what I wish my dearest boy seriously to consider is, that any uneasiness he might feel on account of this circumstance would deserve no better a name than emulation, which the apostle enumerates as one of the lusts of the flesh. You should do your business and try to excel in it, to please your Saviour, as a small return for all He has done for you, but a return which He will by no means despise. It is this which constitutes the character of a real Christian: that, considering himself as bought with a price—viz., that of the blood of Jesus Christ—he regards it as his duty to try andplease his Saviour in everything. And to be honest with you, my very dear boy, let me tell you that it appears to me very probable that the Heavenly Shepherd, whose tender care of His people is, you must remember, described to us as like that of a shepherd towards the tender lambs of his flock, may have designed by this very incident to discover to you that you were too much under the influence of emulation, and to impress you with a sense of the duty of rooting it out. Emulation has a great tendency to lessen love. It is scarcely possible to have a fellow-feeling (that is, duly to sympathise) with anyone if we are thinking much about, and setting our hearts on, getting before him, or his not getting before us. This disposition of mind, which includes in it an over-estimation of the praise of our fellow-creatures, is perhaps the most subtle and powerful of all our corruptions, and that which costs a real Christian the most trouble and pain; for he will never be satisfied in his mind unless the chief motive in his mind and feelings is the way to please his Saviour. The best way to promote the right temper of mind will be after earnest prayer to God to bless your endeavours, to try to keep the idea of Jesus Christ and of His sufferings, and of the love which prompted Him willingly to undergo them, in your mind continually, and especiallywhen you are going to do, occasionally when you are doing, your business. And then recollect that He has declared He will kindly accept as a tribute of gratitude whatever we do to please Him, and call to mind all His kindness, all His sacrifices; what glory and happiness He left, what humiliation and shame and agony He endured; and then reflect that the only return He, who is then, remember, at that very moment actually looking upon you, expects from you, is that you should remember His Heavenly Father who sent Him, and Him Himself, and (as I said before) endeavour to please Him. This He tells us is to be done by keeping God's commandments. And my dear Samuel knows that this obedience must be universal—all God's commandments. Not that we shall be able actually to do this; but then we must wish and desire to do it. And when, from our natural corruption, infirmities do break out we must sincerely lament them, and try to guard against them in future. Thus a true Christian endeavours to have the idea of his Saviour continually present with him. To do his business as the Scripture phrases it, unto the Lord and not unto men. To enjoy his gratifications as allowed to him by his merciful and kind Saviour, who knows that we need recreations, and when they are neither wrong in kind nor excessive in degree they may and should be enjoyedwith a grateful recollection of Him who intends for us still nobler and higher pleasures hereafter. This is the very perfection of religion; 'Whether we eat or drink or whatever we do, do all to the glory of God.'