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Library  of  Medicine
         FOUNDED 1836
Bethesda, Md.
U. S. Department  of Health,

  Education, and  Welfare

   PUBLIC HEALTH  SERVICE
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                       THE


                    LIFE


                        OF


       WILLIAM  WILBERFORCE:


                     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.

!                ABRIDGED FROM THK LONDON EDITION
               BY CASPAR MORRIS, M.D.


I
                 PHILADELPHIA:
          HENRY PERKINS—134 CHESTNUT STREET.
                 BOSTON--PERKINS & MARVIN.
1                       1839. 
             f-WTTCT.  L!r"?Y OF  MEDiCfJVt
                    Bi»v;i.cfJA  14, MD.

  Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the-year 1839, by Henry
Perkins, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District
of Pennsylvania.
Crr
v)fcfe4  L
 l  2 3^
C. SHERMAN & CO. PRINTERS,

    19 St. James Street.
( 
PREFACE.
  It has been well remarked, that there is no more powerful instru-
ment of useful or pernicious influence on mankind than Biography.
Addressing itself to that propensity to imitation which exists  to a
greater or  less degree  in every mind,  it allures by the force  of
example, and carries feeling and judgment alike captive in its train.
There are  those who, during  life, pursuing the noiseless tenor  of
their way, " have shrunk to hear the obstreperous trump of Fame,"
who have,  however, walked so "holy, harmless and undefiled"  in
the circumscribed sphere in which they have moved, that it becomes
a duty to  give  wider  extent  to their usefulness by  diffusing the
knowledge that such an  one  has  lived  and how.   Others, "the
observed" of  all observers,"  placed  by  the providence of God  in
exalted stations, have occupied  the many talents committed to their
care with equal diligence and devotion to  their Master's service.
The wide spread influence of such cannot be increased—eulogy is
not only wasted upon  them, it becomes defamation,—the  duty of
the biographer is to catch  as  it were the light from their splen-
did public  actions, and reflect it upon  the  minor virtues of life,
that so they may shine, not with a borrowed but a filial splendour,
and attract the attention of the multitude, who, while  they may not
emulate the greater display, may be  led to  imitate the smaller but
not less important actions which constitute the great sum of duty.
This prominent station was occupied by William Wilberforce.  Not
one  nation, but  the whole human  family participated  in the benefit
he conferred on his fellow-men.  Had he done no more than lead on
the battle which resulted  in the Abolition of the Slave Trade, his
would  have  been unrivalled  honour.    Other men  have  given
freedom to their own  country—he was  the successful champion of
humanity; and  it may be questioned whether the  benefit he con-
ferred on bleeding  Africa or oppressing Europe was the greatest
He  stanched the wounds  of the one,  while  he stayed the progress
of  the other in a career of oppression and cruelty  which could
not  but have called down the  just  vengeance  of a righteous God.
To Africa, that God has ordained a recompense for her wrongs, in the
reflection back upon her darkened shores of the benefits of Chris-
tianity which will result from the temporary sojourn of her sons in a
cruel bondage  on ours.   While to them that did the  wrong no  re-
sult will follow but evil,  unless the wrong  be repented of and for-
saken, and so far as possible reparation made.
   But it was not the wrong of Africa alone which excited his sym-
pathy, and drew forth his active exertions for its relief.   Wherever
a door of usefulness was opened, however wide and large or narrow
and confined, he was ready to enter and labour; and whether it was
 for the extension of the blessings of the  knowledge of the Gospel of
 Jesus to the benighted millions of Hindoostan, or the handfuls of
 Cheddar, the relief of the temporal sufferings of the victims of war 
IV
PREFACE.
  on the Continent, or the poor inmates of the London jail, his alacrity
  and diligence in doing good were alike worthy to be commended and
  imitated.   There was a holy energy of character and singleness of
  purpose about him, which  will always enable its possessor to accom-
  plish great things.  Regarding habitually every faculty he possessed
  as a talent bestowed upon  him  for the  proper use of which he was
  responsible, his labours were unceasing that he might  be enabled to
  render an  account with joy.   He fulfilled  closely the directions of
  one whose friendship was a source of delight to him, believing as
  one who knew that his salvation depended on faith, and labouring to
  adorn that faith as  though it weie  to be found in return for the merit
  of his works.
   To be admitted to the  freedom of unreserved intercourse  with
 such a man—to hear him  pour forth from the treasure of his heart
 the secret  thoughts  which gushed from its  hidden fountains—to
 enter with him  to  the inner chambers of reflection, and join  with
 him in the consultations from which his mighty acts resulted, would
 have been esteemed an inestimable privilege; and to this his sons have
 admitted us. From the period at which he was converted, a change
 which he himself describes as being as great as  that which trans-
 formed  the  persecutor of the primitive church into the apostle  of
 the Gentiles, he kept regular records of the daily events of his life
 and the changing feelings  of his heart.   What proportion  of these
 have been published by his  sons none but themselves know.   It has
 been enough, however, to  place his character on the most  exalted
 platform of  human excellence.   Having adopted for his standard the
 highest possible model, the example of the  incarnate  Son of God,
 and continually  comparing himself, not with himself and other
 equally fallible  men, but with  this supreme pattern of excellence,
 his Diary will be found to abound with those humble confessions of
 unworthiness and guilt which properly result from such self-exami-
 nation,  whilst the testimony of those who,  without witnessing, or
 being privy to the struggles by which the inbred corruption of the
 heart was kept in subjection, saw only the precious fruit which re-
 sulted  from  his  self-denying labours, exhibits the  impression made
 by his example on all by whom he was surrounded.  It is not, how-
 ever, to be  supposed  that  his  lot  was exempt from those  "cruel
 mockings,"  and that  "shame," and  that "malignant  blackening
 calumny," the influence of which  he has himself so feelingly dp
 picted.  These are declared by the unerring wisdom of Him wr,
 " needed not that any should tell him, for he knew what was in man"
 to be the unavoidable portion of his followers.  In  the memoir wp
 find traces of them enough to indicate that he partook of a We nor
 tion of that " evil speaking which will follow good works "  But f
 all he possessed a sovereign balm  of which  he continually availed
 himself in that spirit of prayer which formed the most marked trait
 of his character.  Whether oppressed by the care of empires or thp
 trifling anxieties of life, he still sought that wisdom which God hath
promised to bestow liberally on all who seek it; and that he realized
the  fulfilment of the promise, his whole career, which was  most trulv
like that of the " light  which shineth more and more unto the ner
feet day," affords manifest demonstration.  His votes in the House of 
PREFACE.
V
Commons, his intercourse with society and with his family, were all
sanctified by prayer; and at no stage of his career did he appear to
be ashamed to confess  his dependence on the grace of God thus
sought.   How  rare an example does he exhibit when we behold him,
thelamiliar friend not only of princes, nobles, and prime-ministers, but
sought after as the companion of kings, withdrawing from the glare
of earthly greatness and favour to pray with the sick servants of his
acquaintance or the penitent convict in his cell! When we thus see
the hidden sources of his  strength and power, we cannot wonder at
the success which crowned all his efforts, nor at the boldness with
which he separated himself,  when  convinced of the necessity of
doing so, from those friends with whom  he commonly acted in con-
cert of principle  and feeling.   Such legislators, like the righteous
men sought in vain in Sodom, to adopt the idea of Mr. W.'s favourite
poet, save a country.  Such was the source of that courage which
led him to face the threatened violence of the excited population on
the one hand,  and on the other to incur the hazard of sacrificing the
friendship even of Pitt,  when the conflict arose between duty to his
friend and his God.  There was, however, another feature in his
character which, springing from the same source, pervaded equally all
his actions.  This was his entire  independence.  Whether in poli-
tics or religion, he examined for himself with minuteness of scrutiny
and quickness of perception, and when he saw the right he pursued
it steadfastly,  no matter who saw differently.   Yet that this resulted
from no  hasty determination followed up by obstinate persistance in
his own opinions without regard to consequences, the memoir contains
abundant proof.   In religion the same character of mind which led
him at the outset of his career to forfeit a positive advantage rather
than subscribe to articles of faith which he did not hold, caused him
in after life, when the most dispassionate examination had resulted in
the  full  adoption of those very Articles, to adhere to them with all
the fondness of the most intense devotion, and his Diary abounds with
entries which  indicate his attachment to the Church of England. 1 hus,
when  on one occasion,  he  accompanied a friend whom he dearly
loved, and whose Christian character he held  in the highest estima-
tion, to a dissenting place of worship, he comments on  the  manner
in which it  was conducted on his return, specifying the absence of
" Scripture reading and Common Prayer" as reasons for the thank-
fulness he expresses that he  did  not belong  to  their communion;
and frequently he remarks in  his Diary on the self-denial he exer-
cised in abstaining from frequenting other  places of worship, lest
his example might weaken the attachment of any to that portion ot
the church of Jesus which he esteemed most nearly conformed to the
model of primitive Christianity in doctrine, discipline, and  torm  ot
prayer.  And yet with all this attachment to her formularies, how
far was  he  from that narrow-minded bigotry  which would  confine
the favour of God within any limits!  While he wished to see the
church foremost  in every good word and work, how ready was he to
seek the co-operation of those who thought differently.  Methodists
and even Baptists were proud  of his friendship, and looked to him as
 their advocate, and he did not hesitate to admit " Friends  to the favour 
VI
PREFACE.
 of intimacy, expressing his admiration of their devotedness to every
 good work: nor did he fear to stand almost alone among truly religious
 men, in supporting the admission of Romanists to seats in Parliament,
 much as he deprecated the errors into which he believed them to be
 fallen.  The same entire independence was shown too in his views on
 the great question which so engrossed his thoughts during the twenty
 years of his prime; and if all  the  advocates of Negro emancipation
 had manifested the same temper, and prosecuted the enterprise in
 the same spirit of charity, neither thinking evil nor answering rail-
 ing by railing, (to say nothing of those who appear to think that loud
 and angry denunciation  is the strongest weapon in their armoury,)
 the true supporters of the cause would have had less reason to wish
 to be "delivered from their friends."
   There  is no intention  of entering here into  the merits  of this
 questio vxeata.   The abridgment  and republication of this me-
 moir was  not undertaken  with the  view  of its exercising any
 influence upon it.  The  circumstances  of  Great Britain and the
 United States are so dissimilar, that no reasoning can be brought from
 the one to bear upon the other.  The expression of thankfulness that
 England could be just while she was generous, which flowed from
 the dying lips of the great Champion of British Emancipation, sepa-
 rates the actors there from the agitators here, not less widely than
 the ocean which rolls between the countries.  Most fervently is the
 coming of that time to be desired, when, through  the prevalence of
 Christian faith and  practice,  wrong and violence  and  oppression
 shall  be banished  from the earth ; when the servant shall be  found
 "doing service with good will as to the Lord and not to man," and the
 "master rendering to the servant that which is just  and equal."
 But  every unhallowed weapon employed in the  cause recoils  on
 the head of him  that uses it, and every unbidden  hand stretched
 forth  in the service but calls destruction on its mover, while the poor
 objects of sympathy are made to groan in still deeper bondage, from
 the misdirected efforts of their ill-judging friends.
   The  publication  of his work on  " Practical  Christianity" was
 another of those efforts which  required the  exercise of great firm-
 ness of principle,  not  only from the  reproach to which it subjected
 him among worldly men, but still  more from its own peculiar cha-
 racter :  stigmatized by the bigoted of one side as " Calvinistic," and
 by those of the other  as " Legal," it came forth unsupported by any
 party in the church, depending for its  success only on its truth and
 conformity to the Word of God, and its adaptedness to the wants of
 man.   Yet where is there a book which has more approved itself to
 the judgment and the heart 1  Where is there one (a few only ex-
 cepted, such as Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and the works of Bax-
 ter and Doddridge,) whose influence has been more extensive] Not
to mention  those who  have owed their conversion to its  instrumen-
tality, what multitudes have  found  strength and confirmation  in  its
pages.  But  had  every  copy  been  destroyed except  that which,
blown on the  wings of chance, as the world would say—carried,
doubtless, by the angels of God, each humble Christian will believe—
icund its way to the lowly parsonage of an  insignificant  village in 
PREFACE.
vii
the Isle of Wight, still from so small a seed has started up so noble
a growth  as  has  caused, and will cause to the end of time "joy in
the presence of the angeis of God" more abundant than can now be
known or  conceived.   What  countless numbers in every quarter of
the world  owe  their  salvation to the agency of Legh  Richmond's
writings—and but for Wilberforce's " Practical View,"  Legh Rich-
mond had  passed through life unconverted himself and  unblessed to
others.  But zealous and faithful as he was in all he undertook, there
was always an unwillingness to put himself  forward, and discretion
in judging what might be promoted and what injured by his agency.
When, for instance, the friends of Jenner sought to procure for him
parliamentary compensation for the pecuniary loss to which he was
subjected  in the prosecution of those experiments which resulted in
conferring upon mankind the highest temporal boon which ever was be-
stowed on our race, Wilberforce  was applied to, to take upon himself
the lead  in the House of Commons.  What were  the motives by
which he  was induced to decline we are not informed, but that they
were wholly foreign from any want of interest in the case itself, is
proved by the following letter, which has recently  been printed in
the life of Jenner.

                                     " Palace Yard, Feb. 24, 1802.
" My dear Sir,
  I have  often thought of addressing you  on the subject we con-
versed about formerly; that, I mean, of your valuable discovery be-
coming the topic of parliamentary discussion, with  a view to  your
receiving  some compensation for your eminent services to the com-
munity.   I hoped long ere now to see the matter brought forward,
and always intended, whenever  it should be so, to give you my best
assistance on a principle of duty.  I really thought, as I  told you,
there were reasons why I was by no means an eligible introducer of
the subject; and  I could not just now undertake it, on account of my
being engaged to render a similar  service (though contrary to my
own  judgment)  to another  gentleman.  But are you aware that
Friday next is the last day for presenting private petitions, and that
a petition is the proper mode of bringing your discovery before Par-
liament 1   If I can be of any use  in  advising you, I shall be unaf-
fectedly glad, and in rendering you any assistance I am able.
  At all  events  I am persuaded you will do justice to the motive
which prompts me  to address you  thus frankly, and believe me,
with esteem and  regard,
                            Dear Sir,
                                Your faithful servant,
                                            W. Wilberforce."

  There  was nothing  more  remarkable in  his whole history, than
the triumph  it exhibits of the Divine Grace over natural  imperfec-
tion.   Most truly could he say, " by the grace of God I am  what I
am."  Naturally versatile, nay  by more than  one  of his warmest
admirers  his  mind is  spoken of as  volatile, nothing short of the
powerful  control  of the all-absorbing feeling of love in  return for
the love  bestowed on him, could  have enabled him to  persevere 
vjii
PREFACE.
 as he did, abounding in the work of the Lord.   Mr. Gurney, in his
 delightful "Familiar Sketch," which no one can  read  without the
 regret that it is  so exceedingly cursory, and the greater part of
 which has been embodied in this work with his own consent, speaking
 of this trait says, " I have  mentioned the quickness with which he
 used to turn from one object of thought and conversation to another.
 In fact, there was nothing more remarkable in him than his versatility.
 His mind was of a highly discursive character; and it was often ex-
 tremely amusing to observe how, while pursuing any particular sub-
 ject, 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 even a means of
 multiplying the instruction which  his conversation afforded.  *  * *
 But the volubility of his  intellect was balanced by  the stability
 and faithfulness  of his moral qualities.   Where  the  happiness
 of man and the  glory of God  were in his view, he was for ever
 recurring  to  his point."—That he had  other failings cannot be
 doubted : that they " had not dominion over him," but were kept in
 subjection, is manifest by the following memoir which  displays  the
 secret workings of his heart, and brings the reader acquainted, not
 only with the results but with the struggles by which the victory
 was attained.   This constitutes its only merit.   The very nature of
 its composition renders it irregular,  and  it was at one time designed
 to remodel it entirely.   But a more attentive examination resulted
 in the conviction, that whatever it might gain in regularity would be
 more than counterbalanced  by the loss of that fresh,  personal, auto-
 biographic character which  now constitutes its charm.   Wilberforce
 is made to tell the  story of his own life, in his own  words, and
 nothing is introduced except where  it  was necessary by way  of ex-
 planation, or to preserve the connexion.   Many of the papers which
 afford the material of the work he had directed  should be destroyed,
 but was induced to permit his nearest relations to make from  them
 such selections as they should think  it advisable to publish.  It is in-
 tended to issue an additional volume of correspondence, for which all
 who admire him, and this includes all the admirers of virtue and ex-
 cellence, will wait with anxious impatience.
   It appears proper before closing this preface,  to notice briefly the
 fact that an unhappy controversy has been excited in England, by the
 manner in which the original work treats the character and labours of
 Mr. Clarkson.   That the most cordial and entirely mutual friendship
 existed between them,  closed only  by death, is plainly  manifest to
 all who examine the question, and most deeply is  it to be lamented,
 that names so  long joined  in holy fellowship  should now be dis-
severed ; lovely in life how  sad that  in death they should be divided !
It has been  the endeavour  in preparing  this abridgment to omit
every thing bearing on the subject, from the thorough conviction that
 each did what he could, and that as  fellow-members of one body
 each was found,  working  in his appointed place in harmony and
 with good feeling  toward the other; and it is to be hoped that the
temporary cloud which has cast its dark  shadow upon a scene which
was once illuminated by the bright  glow of holy affection may soon
be forgotten, and nothing be remembered but their cordial co-ope-
ration and mutual esteem. 
THE
LIFE OF  WILBERFORCE.
  William Wilberforce, only son of Robert Wilberforce
and his wife Elizabeth,  daughter of Thomas Bird, Esq. of
Barton,  Oxon, was born at Hull,  where his  father  was a
merchant in the Baltic trade, upon the feast of St. Bartholo-
mew, August 24,  A. D.  1759.  He was the  third of four
children, but of his three sisters the second only arrived at
maturity.
  Of his early years little is recorded.   His frame from  in-
fancy was feeble, his stature small, his eyes weak,—a fail-
ing which with many rich mental endowments he  inherited
from his mother.  It  was one amongst the many expres-
sions of his  gratitude in  after-life " that I was not born in
less civilized times, when it would have been thought Impos-
sible to rear  so delicate a child."  But with these bodily in-
firmities were united a vigorous mind, and a temper emi-
nently affectionate. An  unusual thoughtfulness for others
marked  his youngest childhood :  " I shall never forget," says
a frequent guest at his mother's, " how he would steal into
my sick room, taking  off his  shoes lest he should disturb
me, and with an anxious face looking through my curtains
to learn if I was  better."  At seven years old he was sent
to the grammar school of Hull, of which Joseph Milner was
soon afterwards master.  " Even then his elocution was so
remarkable," says the  younger Milner,  at that time  his
brother's assistant, " that we used  to  set him upon a table,
and make him read aloud as an example to the other boys."
The death of his father in the summer of 1768  transferred
him at nine  years of age to  the care of his uncle William
Wilberforce; and  after a week's residence at Nottingham,
he was sent to live with him  at Wimbledon  and in  St.
                         2 
14
life of wilberforce.
James' Place.  Such was then the standard measure of pri-
vate education, that the school at which he was soon after-
wards placed was of the meanest character.  " Mr. Chalmers
the master, himself a Scotchman, had an usher of the same
nation,  whose red  beard—for he  scarcely shaved  once a
month—I shall never forget.  They taught  writing,  French,
arithmetic, and Latin—with Greek we did  not much med-
dle.   It was frequented chiefly by the sons of merchants,
and they taught therefore  every thing and nothing.  Here I
continued some time as a parlour boarder : I was sent at first
amongst the lodgers, and I can remember even now the
nauseous  food with which we were  supplied,  and  which I
could not eat without sickness."
  He remained  two years at this school, spending his holi-
days at his uncle's house,  with occasional visits to Notting-
ham and Hull.  He is described at this time as " a fine sharp
lad," whose activity and spirit made up in boyish sports for
some deficiency of strength.  One incident of these years
deserves special  notice from its  assisting, as he thought, to
form  what was  undoubtedly a striking feature in his later
character.  He  received from the late John Thornton, the
brother of his aunt, with whom he was travelling, a present
much exceeding the usual amount of a  boy's possessions,
intended to  enforce the precept with which it was accom-
panied, that some should be given to the poor.
   When he quitted Hull no great  pains had been taken  to
form  his religious principles.  His mother indeed was a wto-
man of real excellence, as well as  of great and highly culti-
vated talents, but not possessed at this time of those views
of  the spiritual nature of religion, which she adopted in later
life: " She was  what  I  should call an Archbishop Tillotson
Christian." But  in his  uncle's house he was subjected to
a  new and powerful influence.   His aunt was a great  ad-
mirer of Whitefield's preaching, and kept up a friendly con-
nexion with the early methodists.   The  lively affections  of
his  heart,  warmed by  the kindness  of his friends, readily
assumed their tone.  A stranger  has noticed the rare and
pleasing character of piety which marked his  twelfth year.
   He has himself  recorded his deliberate judgment of this
early promise.  " Under  these influences my  mind was in-
terested by religious subjects.  How far these impressions
were  genuine I can hardly determine, but at least I may
venture to  say that  I was sincere.  There  are letters of
jnine, written at that period, still in existence,  which accord 
early religious impressions.
15
much with my present sentiments."  In 1831 he makes the
following entry in his Diary. " A packet from Hull, enclosing
letters of mine from Pocklington school rather  too much in
the style of the religious letters of that day, and (astonishing !)
asking my leave to publish them.  As I cannot  doubt my
having expressed the sentiments and  feelings of my heart,
I am sensibly  impressed with a sense of the dreadful effects
of the efforts  afterwards  used but too successfully to  wean
me from all religion, and to cherish the love of pleasure and
the love of glory in the opening bud of youth."
   The symptoms of his changing character were perceived
with  great  alarm  at  Hull, and it was at once determined
that his mother should repair to London, and remove him
from  the dangerous  influence.   He returned with her to
Yorkshire,  quitting his  uncle's  family  with  deep regret.
His presence had kindled  their parental feelings, and he had
soon  returned them the affection of a son.  " I  deeply felt
the parting for I loved them as parents : indeed, I  was al-
most heart-broken at the separation."  " I  can never  forget
you," he wrote to his uncle, " as long as  I live."
   At twelve years old he returned to his mother's house,
 where  it became the object of his friends by the seductions
 of gayety and self-indulgence to charm away that serious
 spirit which had taken possession of his youthful bosom—

              " Et sanctos restinguere fontibus ignes."

    The habits of society in Hull assisted their  design.   In a
 manuscript memorandum he mentions, " It  was then as gay a
 place as could be found out of London.  The theatre, balls,
 great suppers, and card-parties,  were the delight of the prin-
 cipal families  in the town.  The  usual dinner  hour  was two
 o'clock, and  at six they  met  at  sumptuous suppers.  This
 mode of life was at first distressing to me, but by degrees I
 acquired a relish for it, and  became  as thoughtless  as  the
 rest.   As grandson to one of the principal  inhabitants, I was
 every  where  invited  and caressed:  my voice and love  of
 music  made  me  still more acceptable.   The religious  im-
 pressions which I had gained at  Wimbledon continued for a
 considerable  time after my return  to Hull, but my  friends
 spared no pains to stifle them.   I might almost say, that no
 pious  parent ever laboured more to impress a beloved child
 with sentiments of piety,  than they did to give me a taste for
 the world and its diversions."   The strength of principle 
16
life  of wilberforce.
 they had to overcome was indeed remarkable.   " When first
 taken  to a play, it was  almost," he says, " by force."   At
 length, however, they succeeded;  and the allurements of
 worldly pleasure led his youth away from all serious thought.
 At home there was nothing but gayety  and amusement; at
 school there  was  little diligence  or restraint.   His talents
 for general society with  his rare skill  in singing rendered
 him  every where  an acceptable  guest, and his time was
 wasted in a round of visits  to the neighbouring gentry.  Al-
 ready, however, he gave proofs of an active mind, and one
 remarkable anticipation of his  future course is yet remem-
 bered.   " His abomination of the slave  trade," writes a sur-
 viving school-fellow, " he evinced when he was not more
 than fourteen years of age.  He boarded in the master's
 house, where the boys were kept  within bounds.   I lived in
 the village. One day he gave me a letter to  put into the post-
 office, addressed to the editor of the York  paper, which  he
 told me was in condemnation of the odious traffic in human
 flesh."  He cultivated also a taste for literature. " He greatly
 excelled all the  other boys in  his compositions, though  he
 seldom began them till the eleventh hour."  For his own
amusement he  committed English poetry  to memory, and
he went up to the University " a very fair scholar."
  With the self-indulgent habits  formed by such a life  he
entered St. John's College, Cambridge, Oct. 1776, at the age
of seventeen  years.   And  here  he was at once  exposed
to new temptations.  Left, by the  death of his grandfather
and uncle, the master of  an independent fortune under his
mother's  sole guardianship, "I was introduced," says he,
" on the very first night of my arrival, to as licentious a set
of men as can well be conceived.   They drank  hard, and
 their conversation was even worse than their lives.  I lived
 amongst them for some time, though I  never relished their
 society, . . often, indeed,  I was horror-struck at  their con-
 duct, .  . and after the first year I shook  off in great measure
 my connexion with them."  For the last two years he spent
 at Cambridge he was the centre of a higher circle.  Amiable,
 animated, and  hospitable,  he was a  universal favourite.
 " There was no one," says the Rev. T. Gisbome, " at all like
 him for powers  of  entertainment.   Always fond of  repartee
 and discussion,  he seemed entirely free from conceit and
 vanity."   He had  already commenced  the system  of frank
 and  simple hospitality,  which  marked  his London life.
 " There was always a great Yorkshire pie in his rooms, and 
LIFE  AT CAMBRIDGE.
17
all were welcome to partake of it.  My rooms and his were
back to back, and often when I was raking out my fire at
ten o'clock, I heard his melodious voice  calling aloud to me
to come and sit with him  before I went to bed.   It was a
dangerous thing to do, for his amusing conversation  was
sure to keep  me up so late, that I was behind-hand the next
morning."  He lived much at this time amongst the Fellows
of the college.   " But those," he says, " with whom I was
intimate, did  not act towards me the part of Christians, or
even of honest men.   Their object seemed to be, to make
and keep  me idle.   If ever I appeared studious, they would
say to me, ' Why in the world should a man of your fortune
trouble himself with fagging V   I was a good classic, and
acquitted   myself  well in  the  college  examinations;   but
mathematics, which my mind greatly needed, I almost  en-
tirely neglected, and was told that I was  too clever to require
them.  Whilst my companions were reading hard and attend-
ing lectures, card parties and idle amusements consumed my
time.  The tutors would  often say within my hearing, that
'they  were mere saps, but that I did all by talent.'  This
was poison to a mind  constituted like mine."  This life of'
idleness at college was only exchanged in vacation time for the
ordinary gayeties of Hull, now increased by the presence of the
militia, or for journeys in search of pleasure with his mother
and sister.  It was surely of God's especial  goodness  that
in such a course he was preserved  from profligate excess.
For though he could say in after-life,  that upon  the habits
thus formed  by evil influence and unbounded license  " he
could not  look back without unfeigned remorse," yet he had
rather to deplore neglected opportunities of moral and intel-
lectual profit, than vicious practice or abandoned principles.*
  " I certainly did  not then think and act as I do  now," he
declared long afterwards ; " but I was so far  from  what the
world  calls licentious, that I was  rather complimented  on
being better than young men in general."
  Diligently did he strive in after years  to supply the omis-
sions of his youth; but to  the end of life he ceased not to
deplore a  certain want of mental regularity, which  he traced
to the neglect of early discipline, and he subsequently  re-

  * Lord Clarendon, his friend at college and through life, thus describes his
conduct. " He had never in the smallest degree a dissolute character, how-
ever short his early habits might  be of that constant piety and strictness,
which was soon perfected in his happy disposition."
                            2* 
18
LIFE  OF  WILBERFORCE.
1780.
monstrated with the tutor to whose charge he had been con-
fided, on the guilt  of suffering those, of whom he was in
some sort  the guardian, to inflict upon themselves so irrepa-
rable an injury.   That  there was even in  this  time of
thoughtlessness a hidden vein of deeper feeling, was shown
by his refusing, when  unexpectedly required, to declare his
assent to the Articles of the church, though the refusal cost
him for a time the convenience of an academical degree.  Fur-
ther inquiry removed his hesitation, but he would not at ma-
ture age, when his  education was completed, declare his con-
currence in religious dogmas  which he had not  examined.
  Before he quitted college, Mr. Wilberforce had resolved to
enter upon public life.   His ample  fortune, and a taste for
more liberal pursuits, led  him to decline  business, and as a
speedy  dissolution  of Parliament  was  expected,  he  com-
menced a  canvass  for the representation of his  native town.
  After a successful canvass on the spot, he repaired to
London, where about  three hundred Hull freemen resided
in the vicinity of the river; these he entertained at suppers
in the different  public houses of Wapping, and  by his ad-
dresses to them, first gained  confidence in public speaking.
During  this year he resided in lodgings in the Adelphi, and
constantly frequented the gallery of the House of Commons.
Here he often fell in with Mr.  Pitt, then serving the same ap-
prenticeship to public business.   They had formed at Cam-
bridge a slight acquaintance, which now ripened into intimacy.
As the summer advanced, he returned to Hull, with the most
flattering prospects of success at the ensuing election.  His
hopes were almost disappointed by  a hasty dissolution of
the sitting parliament, which  would have fixed  the day of
election before the expiration of his year of nonage, that
" plger annus pupillis."  The session however survived his
birth-day, the feast of St. Bartholomew, which  was  wel-
comed  by his friends  with  suitable rejoicings;  and the
townsmen were regaled with an ox roasted whole in one of
his fields.  The election  opportunely followed;  and on the
11th of September he  was engaged in  all  the bustle  of a
sharp contest.  Against  him were arrayed  the interest  of
Lord Rockingham, the most powerful nobleman in the coun-
ty ;  that of Sir George Savile, its wealthy and  respected re-
presentative, himself a frequent resident at Hull;  and that
of government,  always strong at  a  sea-port.   To these he
could oppose nothing but the personal  influence and  inde- 
 1780.           EARLY  CAREER IN LONDON.              19

pendent  character of a  young man of twenty.  Yet  such
was the command he had established over the affections of
his townsmen, that, at the close of the  poll,  he numbered
singly as many votes as his opponents  had received to-
gether.
   This election  cost him  between £8000 and £9000.  By
long-established custom, the single vote of a resident elector
was rewarded with a donation of two guineas; four  were
paid for a plumper ; and the expenses of a freeman's journey
from London averaged £10 a piece.  The letter of the law
was not broken, because the money was not paid until the
last day on which election petitions could be presented. But
the more matured  judgment of Mr. Wilberforce condemned
the custom to which he now conformed; and rather than so
enter parliament, with his later principles, he has declared
that he would have remained  always  a  private man.  His
great success threw no small lustre  on his entry into public
life ; and he  was welcomed upon his return to London into
every circle.  He was at once elected a member of all the lead-
ing clubs.  " When  I went up to Cambridge," he has said,
speaking of the risks to which  he was  then exposed, " I was
scarcely acquainted with a single person above the rank of
a  country gentleman; and even when I left the University,
so little did I know of general society,  that I came up to
London stored with arguments to prove  the authenticity of
Rowley's Poems; and now I was at once immersed in poli-
tics and fashion.  The very first time  I went  to Boodle's I
won twenty-five guineas of the Duke of Norfolk.  I belonged
at this time to five clubs,—Miles and Evans's, Brookes's,
Boodle's, White's, Goostree's.  The  first time I  was  at
Brookes's, scarcely knowing any one, I joined from mere
shyness  in play at the faro table, where George  Selwyn
kept bank.  A friend  who knew my inexperience,  and re-
garded me as a victim decked out for sacrifice, called to me,
'What, Wilberforce, is that  you1?'  Selwyn quite resented
the interference, and turning to him, said in his most expres-
sive tone, ' O sir, don't  interrupt Mr. Wilberforce, he could
not be better  employed.'  Nothing could be more luxurious
than the style of these clubs.  Fox, Sheridan, Fitzpatrick,
and all your leading men, frequented them, and associated
upon the easiest terms; you  chatted, played  at cards,  or
gambled  as you pleased."  Though he visited occasionally
these various clubs, his usual resort was  with a choicer and
more intimate society, who assembled first in the house since 
20
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1780.
occupied by Scrope and Morland's  bank, in Pall  Mall, and
afterwards on the premises of a man named Goostree, now
the Shakspeare Gallery.
  They were about twenty-five in number, and for the most
part were young men who had passed together through the
University, and  whom  the  general election  of  1780 had
brought at the same time into public life.   Pitt was an habi-
tual frequenter of the club at Goostree's, supping there every
night during  the winter of 1780-81.  Here their  intimacy
increased  every  day.   " He  was the wittiest man I  ever
knew, and what  was quite  peculiar to himself, had at all
times his wit under entire control.   Others  appeared struck
by the unwonted association of brilliant images; but every
possible combination of ideas  seemed always present to his
mind, and he could at once produce whatever he desired. I
was one of those who met to spend an evening in memory
of Shakspeare, at the Boar's Head, East Cheap. Many pro-
fessed wits were present, but Pitt was  the most amusing of
the  party,  and the readiest and most apt  in the required al-
lusions.   He entered with the same energy into all our  dif-
ferent amusements ; we played a good deal at Goostree's,
and I well remember the intense earnestness which he dis-
played when joining in those games  of chance.  He perceived
their increasing fascination, and soon after suddenly aban-
doned them for ever."
  It was by this vice that he was  himself most nearly in-
snared.  A brief diary of this period records more than once
the  loss of £100 at the faro table.   He was weaned from it
in a most characteristic manner.   " We can  have no  play
to-night," complained some of the party at the club, " for St.
Andrew is not here  to keep bank."  " Wilberforce,"  said
Mr. Bankes, (who never joined himself) " if you will keep it
I  will give you a guinea."  The playful challenge was ac-
cepted, but as the  game grew deep, he rose the winner of
£600.  Much of this was lost by those who were only heirs
to future fortunes, and could not therefore meet such  a call
without inconvenience.  The pain he felt at their annoyance
cured him of a taste which seemed  but too likely to become
predominant.
  In spite of his life of gayety, Mr. Wilberforce  attended
closely to the House of  Commons.  He was esteemed a
more active member of parliament than any of his predeces-
sors.  From the first he was  an independent  man : he had
entered parliament as the opponent of the  war with America, 
1781.
POLITICS.
21
and of Lord North's administration;  yet to this ministry he
gave his first vote.
  In January, 1781, he was joined by Mr. Pitt, who having
contested Cambridge University without success at the ge-
neral election, now took his seat for the borough of Appleby.
Community of objects  naturally increased their friendship;
yet not even to friendship with  Pitt  would he  sacrifice his
independence.  " I well remember," he said long afterwards,
" the pain I felt in being obliged  to vote against Pitt, the
second time he spoke in parliament."  Yet though attentive
to public business, he did  not take an early part in the de-
bates.  " Attend to business," he said in  later life to a friend
entering the House of Commons,  "and do not seek occa-
sions of display;  if you have a turn for speaking, the proper
time will come.   Let speaking take care of itself.  I never
go  out  of the way to  speak, but  make myself acquainted
with the business, and then if the debate passes my door I
step out and join  it."
  His first speech was upon the 17th of May, 1781, in a de-
bate upon the laws of revenue, when,  having presented a
petition from the town  of Hull, he forcibly attacked them as
oppressive and unjust.
  His landed  property in  Yorkshire  was much  scattered,
and contained no country mansion.   He  was therefore left
at liberty, when released from parliamentary attendance, to
choose his place of residence.   His passion for the beauties
of scenery and the retirement of the country, was unusually
strong.   " When,"  he  has said, " I was much confined in
later life to London, I could scarcely leave the country for a
town campaign without being affected even to tears."
  A visit to a  college friend had made him well acquainted
with Westmoreland, then little visited by strangers; and for
seven years he rented a house at Rayrigg on the banks  of
Windermere.  Hither he retired with a goodly assortment
of books, " classics, statutes at large, and  history," as soon
as the recess commenced, both  in  this and the succeeding
summer.  His studious attentions were  however  frustrated
by the attractions of society.   " St. Andrew  St. John  was
with me here for months together during this  summer; oc-
casionally too  my mother and my sister, and different college
friends, joined our party.  Boating, riding, and continual
parties at my own house and Sir Michael le Fleming's, fully
occupied my time until I returned to London in the follow-
ing autumn." 
22
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1782.
   He took more part this session  in general business; and
by a  speech  on the 22d of February, 1782, against  Lord
North's administration, obtained the loud  commendations of
Thomas Townshend.
   So prevalent  at this time was the idea that he was to be
included in the new official arrangements, and raised to the
Upper House, that he received various applications for the
supply of  his robes upon that occasion.   The death of the
Lord  Rockingham, in July, 1782, was  followed by Mr. Pitt's
accession  to the Shelburne ministry; and though Mr. Wil-
berforce, as he at this time assured a friend by letter, would
do nothing which obliged him to  pledge himself to govern-
ment, yet  he was Jed to assume a more forward position
amongst the general supporters  of his friend.   They were
now united in the closest intimacy.  In the course of this
spring, they set off for Brighton, to spend the Easter holidays
together;  and being driven thence on the  very night of their
arrival, by the inclemency of the weather, proceeded to Bath
for the  rest of the  vacation.   The early possession of his
fortune increased their intimacy, as he was the only member
of their set who owned a villa within reach  of London.  The
house  of his  late uncle at Wimbledon,  with some trifling
alteration, gave him the command of eight or nine bed-
rooms;  and here Pitt,  to whom it was  a  luxury  even  to
sleep in country air, took up not unfrequently his residence:
their  easy familiarity permitting  him  to ride down late  at
night  and  occupy his rooms, even though the master of the..
house was kept in town.   In one  spring Pitt resided  there
four  months,  and repaired thither when, in April,  1783, he
resigned his official residence to the Coalition ministry.
   " Eliot, Arden, and I," writes Pitt one afternoon, " will be
with you  before curfew, and  expect an early meal of peas
and strawberries.  Bankes, I suppose, will  not sleep out of
Duke Street, but he has not yet appeared in the
                           House of Commons,
   _.       ,                           Half-past four."
   1 his was the most critical period of his course.   He had
entered in his earliest manhood upon the dissipated scenes
of fashionable life, with a large fortune and  most acceptable
manners.   His  ready  wit, his  conversation  continually
sparkling with polished raillery and courteous repartee, his
chastened liveliness, his generous  and kindly feelings;  all
secured him that hazardous applause with which society re- 
1783.
TALENT FOR SINGING.
23
wards its ornaments and victims.  His rare accomplishment
in singing  tended to increase his  danger.   " Wilberforce,
we must have you again; the Prince says he will come at
any time to hear you  sing," was the flattery which he re-
ceived after his first meeting with the Prince of Wales, in
1782, at the luxurious soirees of Devonshire House.
  He was also an admirable mimic, and until reclaimed by
the kind severity of the old Lord Camden, would often set
the table in a roar by his  perfect imitation of Lord North.
His affection for Lord  Camden was  an intimation  at  this
very time of the higher texture of his  mind.   Often would he
steal away from the merriment and light amusements of the
gayer circle, to gather wisdom from the weighty words and
chosen  anecdotes in which the veteran Chancellor abounded.
His affection was warmly returned  by Lord Camden, who
loved the  cheerful  earnestness with  which he sought for
knowledge.  " Lord Camden noticed  me particularly," he
said, " and treated me with great kindness.   Amongst other
things,  he cured me of the dangerous art of mimicry. When
invited  by  my friends to witness my  powers of imitation, he
at once refused, saying  slightingly for me to hear it, ' It  is
but a vulgar accomplishment.'  ' Yes, but it is not imitating
the mere manner; Wilberforce says the very thing  Lord
North would say.'  ' Oh,* was his reply, ' every one does
that.' "  This friendly intercourse was long continued. " How
many subjects of politics and religion," writes the old lord,
with  a pressing invitation to Camden Place, in 1787, " might
we not have settled by  this time, in the long evenings."
   But if he escaped the seductions of frivolity and  fashion,
he was in  equal danger from the severer temptations of am-
bition.  With  talents of the highest order,  and  eloquence
surpassed  by few, he entered upon public life possessed of
the best personal connexions, in his intimate friendship with
Mr. Pitt.   Disinterested, generous, lively, fond of society, by
 which he was equally beloved, and overflowing with affection
 towards his numerous friends,  he was indeed in little danger
 from the  low  and  mercenary spirit of worldly policy.  But
 ambition has inducements for men of every temper; and how
 far he was then safe from its fascinations, may be learned
 from the conduct of his brother " Independents." They were
 a  club of about forty members of the  House of Commons,
 most of them opponents of the Coalition Ministry, whose prin-
 ciple of union  was a resolution to take neither place,  pension,
 nor  peerage.   Yet in  a few years so far had the fierceness 
24
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1783.
of their independence yielded to various temptations, that he
and Mr. Bankes alone of all the party retained their early
simplicity of station.  He himself was the only county mem-
ber who  was not raised to the peerage.  He too would no
doubt  have been entangled  in the toils of  party, and have
failed of those great triumphs he afterwards achieved, but for
the entrance into his soul of higher principles.  His later
journals abound in expressions of thankfulness that he did
not at  this  time enter on official life, and waste his days in
the trappings of greatness.  Though  he  was  practically
thoughtless, ambition had not hardened his heart or destroy-
ed the  simplicity of his tastes.
  The following letter, written at this period to his  sister, is
an interesting exhibition of  the  state of his mind, at this
period  of his career.
                              » Wimbledon, June 5,1783.
" My dear sister,
  From  my  retirement at Wimbledon, I write  to you in
your retirement at Drinkston, and I wish you may find as
much comfort in the one as I  do in the other. The existence
I enjoy here is of a  sort  quite different from what it is in
London.  I feel a load off my mind ; nor is  it in the mighty
powers of Mrs. Siddons, nor in  the yet superior and  more
exalted gratifications of the House of Commons,  which you
seem to think my summum bonum, to compensate to me for
the loss of  good air, pleasant walks, and  what Milton calls
" each  rural sight, each rural sound." This  you will say is a
bigoted attachment, and so perhaps it may be; yet it is an
attachment which I strive rather to strengthen than diminish,
for, not to  observe that it is  a natural one, I am sure that I
derive from it the most  solid  and substantial advantages.  If
my moral and religious principles be such as in  these  davs
are not very generally prevalent, perhaps  I owe the continu-
ance of them in a great measure to solitude in the  country.
This is not merely the difference between theory and  prac-
tice, it  is not  merely (though that be something) that one
finds  oneself very well able  to  resist temptations to vice,
when one is out of the  way  of being exposed to  them; but
in  towns there is no leisure for thought or serious reflection,
and we are apt to do that with  regard to  moral  conduct,
which  we  are in vain  advised to do in the case of misfor-
tunes—to look only on  those who are worse than ourselves,
till we flatter ourselves  into a  favourable  opinion of our
modes of life, and exalted ideas  of our own virtue.  But in 
1783.
LETTER TO SISTER.
25
the cduntry a little reading or reflection presents us  with  a
more complete and finished model, and  we become sensible
of our  own imperfections; need I add that trite maxim,
which however I will, for it is a true one, that humility is the
surest guide both to virtue and  wisdom.  Besides, custom
and habit operate almost as powerfully on our opinions and
judgments as on our carriage and deportment; and lest we
become thoroughly tainted  with the fashionable ways of
thinking and acting, we  should  retire  to  converse and
keep company a little with our faithful mentor, who will give
us good advice, if we will but have  the prudence and the
spirit to attend to it.  For my own part, I never leave this
poor  villa without feeling  my virtuous affections confirmed
and strengthened : and I am afraid it would be in some de-
gree true if  I  were to add, that I never remain long in Lon-
don without their being somewhat  injured and  diminished.
After this eulogium  on  the country, and solitude, you  will
tell me it is an odd reason I am about to give for having al-
most  laid aside my intention of going abroad, that I cannot
find  any friend to travel with me;  but really the idea is so
uncomfortable, of spending three or  four weeks alone in  a
post-chaise, and of not being able to join in the conversation,
when one does  at last  see the human face divine,  that  it
staggers the  resolution to which  I  had come of taking  a
tower ; and my inclination is seconded by my reason, which
suggests to  me that I can pass my summer to much better
advantage in England.   Should the latter be  my lot, and
this word I take to be the  properest that can be used on the
occasion, for it is a good deal a matter of chance, I shall be
on the ramble, and endeavour in some of my excursions to
show myself not wholly without bowels, and to  stumble on
you.   But of all this I shall be better able to speak in about
three  weeks, when  I expect parliament will  rise, and you
must not then be surprised to receive a letter from me dated
from any place in or  out of his Majesty's dominions."

  The close of the  session, July 16th,  set him at liberty.
After visiting the St. Johns at Tunbridge Wells he spent
the month of August in  Yorkshire,  and repaired early in
September to the seat of Mr. Bankes in Dorsetshire, to meet
Mr.  Pitt and  Mr. Eliot, with whom he had engaged  to pay
a visit to the continent.  A few days spent at Kingston Hall
in shooting,  were signalized by the narrow escape of Mr.
Pitt from Mr. Wilberforce's gun ; " So at least," said he, " my 
26
LIFE  OF WILBERFORCE.
1783.
companions affirmed, with a roguish wish, perhaps, to make
the most of my shortsightedness and  inexperience in field
sports."
  On the 11th of September the three friends met at Canter-
bury, and on the following day embarking at Dover in spite of
a heavy sea crossed to Calais. Thence they proceeded straight
to Rheims, to gain some knowledge of the language before
they went to Paris.  Each had trusted to the other to obtain
the needful introductions;  and  when  at  last the omission
was discovered they had only time to write to Mr. Robert
Smith for letters.  He had no better resource than to obtain
from Peter Thellusson an introduction  to the correspondent
of his house.  With these credentials they arrived at Rheims,
then under that  episcopal government which had lasted from
the time  of Clovis, and to which may  be traced, according
to Guizot, the origin of European civilization.   At the time
of their arrival the Archbishop (Perigord) was absent, and
the ordinary  routine of government devolved  upon Mons.
De  Lageard, as secretary  to  the conseil d'etat.   Their first
adventures are thus related in a letter to Mr. Bankes. " From
Calais  we made directly for Rheims, and  the day after our
arrival dressed ourselves unusually well, and proceeded to
the house  of a Mons.  Coustier to present, with not a little
awe, our only letters of recommendation.  It was with some
surprise that we  found Mons.  Coustier behind  a  counter
distributing figs and raisins.  I  had heard that it was very
usual for gentlemen on the continent to practise some handi-
craft trade or other for their amusement, and therefore for
my own part I concluded that his taste was in the fig way,
and that he was only playing at grocer for his diversion ; and
viewing the matter in this light, I could not help  admiring
the excellence of his imitation ; but we soon found that Mons.
Coustier was a 'veritable epicier,' and that not a very emi-
nent one.   He  was very fair and candid, however, and ac-
knowledged to  us that he was  not acquainted with any of
the gentry of the place, and therefore could not introduce us
to them.  We returned to our inn, and after spending nine
or ten days without making any great progress in the French
language, which could not indeed be expected from  us, as
we spoke to no human being but each other and  our Irish
courier, when  we began to entertain serious  thoughts of
leaving the place in despair, by way of a parting effort we
waited on our epicier, and prevailed on him to put on  a bag
and sword and carry us to the intendant of the police, whom
he supplied with groceries.  This scheme succeeded admi- 
1783.
ADVENTURES IN FRANCE.
27
rably.   The intendant was extremely civil to us, and intro-
duced  us to the Archbishop, who gave us two very good
and  pleasant dinners and would have had  us stay a week
with him.  (N.  B.   Archbishops  in England are not like
Archeveques in France ; these last are jolly fellows of about
forty years of age,  who play  at billiards,  &c. like other
people.)
  " We soon got acquainted with as many of the inhabitants
as we could wish, especially an  Abbe De Lageard, a fellow
of infinite humour, and of such extraordinary humanity, that
to prevent our time  hanging  heavy on our hands  he would
sometimes make us  visits of five or six hours at  a  stretch.
Our last week passed very pleasantly, and for myself I  was
really very sorry when  the day  arrived for our setting off
for Paris."
  The Abbe  De Lageard (now Mons. de Cherval) has fur-
nished some recollections of this visit.   " One morning when
the intendant of police  brought me his daily report, he in-
formed me, there are three Englishmen here of  very  sus-
picious character.   They are in a wretched lodging, they
have no  attendance, yet their  courier says, that they are
' grands seigneurs,' and that one of them is son of the great
Chatham ; but it is impossible, they must  be ' des intrigants.'
I  had been in England,  and knew that the younger sons of
your noble families are  not always wealthy, and I said  to
Mons. Du Chatel, who wished to visit them officially and in-
vestigate their character, ' Let us be in no hurry,  it  may be
perhaps as they represent, I will inquire about them  myself.'
I  went to their  lodgings  the same evening and  got their
names from the courier,  and true enough they were said  to
be Mr.  W. Pitt, Mr. Wilberforce, and Mr.  Eliot, all three
members of the British parliament, and one of them  lately a
leading member of  the  government.   The next morning I
visited them, and as I was at once satisfied by their appear-
ance, I asked whether I could be of any use to them, and of-
fered whatever  the  town of  Rheims could afford for their
amusement.  Amongst  other things Mr. Pitt  complained,
'  Here we are in  the middle of  Champagne, and we cannot
get any tolerable wine.'   ' Dine with me to-morrow,' I re-
plied, ' and you shall have the best wine  the country can af-
ford.'  They came and dined with me, and instead of mov-
ing directly after dinner, as we do in France, we sat talking
for five or six hours."
   The Abbe  De Lageard, a man of family and fortune, was 
28
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1783.
 one of those whom  the  revolution  stripped of every thing
 but their faith and loyalty; and when  residing as an emi-
 grant in England, he received from Mr. Wilberforce a will-
 ing and ample return of his  present  hospitality.  Nothing
 could exceed  his  kindness to them  : for a fortnight he was
 their constant  attendant; he made them acquainted with the
 noblesse who  resided in the neighbourhood  of Rheims ; he
 gave them permission to sport over  the domain of the Arch-
 bishop ; and upon his return, introduced them to a familiar
 footing at the palace.  In their many conversations with the
 Abbe, Mr. Pitt was the chief speaker.   Although no master
 of the French vocabulary, his ear, quick for every sound but
 music, caught  readily the intonations of the language; and
 he soon spoke it with considerable accuracy.  He inquired
 carefully into the political institutions  of  the French ; and
 the Abbe has  stored up his concluding sentence—" Mon-
 sieur, vous n'avez  point de  liberte  politique, mais pour la
 liberie civile, vous  en avez plus que  vous ne croyez."
  The position Mr. Pitt had occupied at home, attracted the
 observation of the  French.   An aged Marechale at Rheims
 sought in  him  a purchaser for  her most costly  wines, and
 disclaimed earnestly his assurances of poverty. " Le mini'stre
 doit avoir, sans doute, cinque ou six mille  livres  sterling de
 rente."   And  at Paris, whither they removed upon the 9th
 of September,  it was hinted to him through the intervention
 of Horace Walpole, that he would be an  acceptable suitor
for  the daughter of the celebrated Neckar.   Neckar  is said
to have offered to endow her with a fortune of £14,000 per
annum: but Mr. Pitt replied, " I am already married to my
country."   The story of their embarrassments  at Rheims
preceded them to Fontainbleau, where, by  special invitation,
they soon joined the gala festivities of the  court, and Mr.
 Pitt was often  rallied by the Queen, who asked whether he
 had lately heard from his friend the epicier.
  The diary of this period gives a brief notice of each day's
 proceedings.  As for instance :—
  " October 20th.  Saw sights.  Bought books.  Dined Mar-
 quis de la Fayette's,  pleasing enthusiastrcal man: his wife a
 sweet  woman.  Dr. Franklin,  Mr.  Page, Crillon's aid du
 camp,  young  Franklin, Noailles, Madame Boufflers  there.
 Free the Spanish colonies.  At  home at night preparing for
 departure."
  Mr. Wilberforce received with interest the hearty greet-
 ings which Dr. Franklin tendered to a rising member of the 
1784.
POLITICAL EXCITEMENT.
29
English parliament, who had opposed the war with America.
But it was  the singular position occupied by La Fayette
which most  of all  attracted  his attention : he seemed to be
the representative of the democracy in the very presence of
the monarch, the tribune intruding with his veto within the
chamber of  the patrician order. His own establishment was
formed upon the English model; and amidst the gayety and
ease of  Fontainbleau, he assumed an air of republican aus-
terity.  When the fine ladies of the court would  attempt to
drag him to  the card-table, he shrugged his shoulders, with
an affected contempt for the customs and amusements of the
old regime.   Meanwhile the deference which this champion
of a new state of things received, above all from the ladies
of the court, intimated clearly the disturbance of the social
atmosphere,  and presaged the coming  tempest.   A special
messenger recalling Mr. Pitt to London, cut short their fur-
ther observations ;  and after a six weeks'  absence Mr. Wil-
berforce returned  to England on the 24th October, " better
pleased  with his own country than before  he left it."
  The month of November, 1783, when Mr. Wilberforce re-
turned to London, was a season of great political excitement.
Then  came that memorable season, when  one man swayed
the destinies of a people ; when Pitt, undismayed by threats
and unincensed by provocations, upheld with a strong hand
and a bold  heart  the  prerogatives of the Crown and the
liberties of the subject.   Throughout this period Mr. Wil-
berforce shared constantly in the private counsels and par-
liamentary labours of his friend.  The part he took in. these
debates  attracted  more  notice  than any of  his  previous
speeches; and the opposition papers of the day defy Mr. Pitt
" in spite of the assistance he receives from the eloquence of
Mr, Wilberforce."
  The diary of this period is full of interesting allusions to
the progress of affairs.
  " I  can well remember,"  he has  said  of this  important
crisis, " how anxiously we watched the events of each suc-
ceeding  day, counting every vote, in the earnest hope that
Pitt might make a successful stand against the coalition."
But the time was now come, when  he could  render more
essential service  to his friend, than by beating up the
quarters of doubtful members, or even  by supporting him
with his eloquence in the House of Commons.
   The  rising feeling of the  country in support of Mr. Pitt,
had  been   already shown in the many urgent addresses
                            3* 
30
LIFE  OF  WILBERFORCfl.
1784.
presented  to the king.  But Yorkshire  had not as yet de-
clared itself; and the supporters of the coalition, calculating
upon the  influence of their vast possessions  there, looked
eagerly for its declaration in their favour.  There was, how-
ever, a strong spirit of opposition in the county.   The West
Riding clothiers were all Tories, and ready to rise in support
of the throne.
  Mr.  Wilberforce determined  upon  making the attempt
"to get up  an opposition," and  though the poet Mason,
then a canon  residentiary at York, was well  nigh his sole
acquaintance beyond  his  own corner  of  the county,  he
hastened into  Yorkshire to  head  the party.   On the 21st
of March  he went as far as Cambridge, and reached York
the following afternoon at four o'clock.
  A meeting was  held in the castle  yard,  which,  though
the weather was " cold  and  hail falling," continued " from
ten till half-past four."   " An  immense  body  of the free-
holders was present."  An address to the king condemning
the coalition ministry was proposed and supported by the
friends of Mr. Pitt.   On the other side appeared the Duke of
Norfolk, Lord Carlisle,  Lord Cavendish, Lord Fitzwilliam,
and many other men of rank and  influence.   When the
proposers of the address had spoken, and  the Whig lords
had been  heard in answer, the day  was far advanced, and
the listeners were  growing weary of  the contest.   At this
time Mr. Wilberforce mounted the table, from which, under
a great wooden  canopy before  the  high sheriff's chair, the
various speakers had addressed the meeting.   The weather
was so bad "that it seemed," says an eye-witness, " as if his
slight frame would be unable to make head against its vio-
lence."  The eastle yard, too,  was so crowded, that men of
the greatest physical powers  had  been scarcely audible.
Yet such  was the magie of his voice  and the grace of his
expression, that by his very first  sentence he arrested, and
for above an hour he continued to enchain, the attention of
the surrounding multitude.  " Danby tells me," writes Pepper
Arden, " that you spoke like an angel.   That, indeed, I hear
from many others."  The disadvantage under which his
figure had at first appeared, from the scale and construction
 of the hustings, was soon forgotten in the force and anima-
 tion of his manner.—" I saw,"  said Boswell, describing the
 meeting to Dundas,  " what  seemed a mere shrimp  mount
 upon the  table;  but, as I listened, he grew, and  grew, until
 the shrimp became a whale."   " It  is impossible," says one 
1784.
CANVASS FOR YORKSHIRE.
31
who heard him, " though at the distance of so many years,
to forget his  speech, or the effect which it  produced.   He
arraigned with the utmost vigour the coalition ministry, and
the India Bill which they had proposed . . a  measure which
he described  as ' the offspring of that unnatural conjunction,
marked with  the features of both its  parents, bearing token
to the violence of the one, and the corruption of the other.' "
__« His argumentative  and eloquent speech," says a York
paper of the  day, " was listened to with the most eager at-
tention, and  received with the  loudest acclamations of ap-
plause.   It was a reply  to all that had been urged against
the address; but there  was such an excellent choice of ex-
pressions, so rapidly pronounced, that we  are unable to do
it justice  in  any account we can give of it."  He was  dis-
tinctly heard to the utmost limits of the crowd,  and inter-
rupted only by an express from Mr.  Pitt, which without dis-
concerting him, enabled him with the greatest possible effect
to  announce to the assembled county,  that  by dissolving
parliament, the King had at that  very moment  appealed to
the decision of the nation.
   The great ability which he had thus displayed  before the
 county, produced the most unexpected consequences.   The
 immense expense of contesting its representation had re-
 duced Yorkshire to the condition  of a nomination  borough
 in  the hands of the Whig nobility.   " To get up an opposi-
 tion" at the approaching election had been  one end ot Mr.
 Wilberforce's presence.  And  he himself, warned doubtless
 bv that Internal consciousness of  power,  by which  great
 men are prepared for  high  attempts, had  already secretly
 presaged the actual issue.
    " I had formed within my  own heart the  project of stand-
 ing for the county.  To any one besides myself I was aware
 that it must appear so mad a scheme, that I never mentioned
 it  to Mr. Pitt,  or any of my  political connexions.  It was
 undoubtedly a bold idea, but I was then very ambitious.
 However, entertaining it, I carefully prepared myself for the
  nublic debate, which was soon to follow in the  face of the
  whole county; and both at the public meeting,  and in the
  subsequent discussions, it was this  idea which regulated the
  line as well as  animated the spirit, of my exertions.  All
  circumstances indeed  considered .  . my mercantile origin,
  L want of connexion or acquaintance with any of the no-
  bihtv or gentry of Yorkshire . . my being elected for that
  °reat county appears to me, upon the retrospect, so utterly 
32
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1784.
 improbable, that I cannot but ascribe it to a providential in-
 timation, that  the idea of my obtaining that high honour
 suggested itself to my imagination,  and  in  fact fixed  itself
 within my mind."
   Whilst he was yet speaking in the castle  yard, the admi-
 ration of the freeholders burst  forth in  the shout, " We'll
 have this man  for our county member;" and his conduct in
 the succeeding meetings suggested the same idea to inde-
 pendent men of greater influence.
   " Mr.  Wilberforce," wrote one of the company to Lord
 Hawke,  " has  gained  the hearts and admiration of all that
 heard him  speak;  and  when  we  broke up at the York
 Tavern,  at  twelve o'clock on Thursday night, there was a
 sudden and  spontaneous cry of 'Wilberforce and liberty,'
 which was his first nomination for the county."
   Strong as was now the feeling in his favour, it seemed a
 thing so  incredible, that a young  man, utterly unconnected
 with the aristocracy  of the county, should actually displace
 their nominee, that it was not deemed safe for him to resign
 his present  seat.  On  the evening therefore of the 26th, he
 " set off  to secure his election at Hull, where" he " arrived
 at two o'clock in the morning."
   Having been elected he enters in his Diary—" Snow-balls,
 &c. thrown at me in  the chair."   This  slight expression of
 resentment was aimed at his intended resignation of his seat,
 if elected for the county.  " But when," says an eye-witness,
 " the procession reached his mother's house, he sprung from
 the chair, and presenting himself with surprising quickness
 at  a projecting  window . . it  was that  of the nursery in
 which  his childhood  had been passed . . he addressed  the
 populace  with such  complete effect, that  he  was able after-
 wards to decide the election of his successor."
  The same evening  he was on his road to York, where he
 met a welcome greeting, and was immediately proposed with
 Mr. Duncombe, in opposition to Mr. Weddell and Mr. Fol-
jambe, both men of large fortune and great connexions  and
 one the former member, and heir to the influence of his uncle
 Sir George Savile.
  The brunt of opposition was of course directed against
the new candidate ; whom Lord Mulgrave recommended to
the freeholders as " approved already by a large part of the
county, the bosom friend of the present minister, and second
only to him in eloquence, unexampled at their years."   To
meet the anticipated charge of such a contest, a subscrip-
tion was immediately commenced, to which  the candidates 
1784.
YORKSHIRE ELECTION.
33
in vain requested leave to add £2000 a piece.   Of the  sum
thus contributed, (£18,670,) about one-fourth  proved suffi-
cient to defray the whole expense of the election.
  The result he enters thus in his Diary.  " 7th. Up early—
breakfasted  tavern—rode frisky horse to castle—elected—
chaired—dined York Tavern."
  Thus was accomplished this great triumph of independent
principles.   Its effect upon the great struggle then at issue
was not less important.  " Numbers of members  have con-
fessed to me,"  writes Mr. Duncombe, " that they owed  their
success  in their own counties to the example set by ours."
By  it, and nearly two  hundred other victories  over the ad-
herents of the coalition party, Mr. Pitt became  as strong in
the House of Commons, as he had been hitherto in the affec-
tions of the people.  " He was then able," says Mr. Wilber-
force, " if he had duly estimated his position, to have cast off
the corrupt machinery of influence, and formed his govern-
ment upon the basis of independent principle."   The issue
of the Yorkshire contest might have suggested  the possibili-
ty of such an effort.  Its  result was altogether  new and un-
expected.  The  return of a candidate who came  forward
upon ground which none had taken heretofore, was an inti-
mation of that power, with which intelligence and property
had now armed the middle ranks of society.  As  the man of
the middle  classes, he took his place in public life; as their
representative, he was  opposed alike to party influence and
democratic  license;  as their  representative, he  demanded
and obtained the Abolition of the Slave Trade.
   After a hasty tour in Devonshire, Mr. Wilberforce reached
London  upon  the  14th of May, and took his seat in parlia-
ment, as member  for  the county of York.  He possessed
already  enough  to  intoxicate  his mind, whilst prospects  of
gratified ambition  seemed to open without limit  before him.
He attended constantly through the first session  of the new
parliament, and  swelled the triumphant majorities, which se-
cured the supremacy of his friend.  Upon the prorogation
of parliament, he went down  into the north, and presenting
himself at York as " the joy" of the races, spent  his twenty-
fifth birth-day at the top wave and highest flow of those fri-
 volous  amusements,  which had  swallowed up  so large a
 portion  of his youth.  Yet at this very time the providence
 of God  was guiding him into that path which  issued in his
 altered character.
    Whilst at York, he proposed  to his friend, W. Burgh, to 
34
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1784.
 become his companion in a continental  tour.  To his great
 surprise the offer was declined ; and being thrown soon af-
 terwards at Scarborough into the company of Isaac Milner,
 the invitation was transferred to  him.  His strong  sense
 and well furnished mind recommended  him as an agreeable
 companion; but little could either  party then  imagine the
 gracious purpose for which this choice was ordered.
   After a hasty visit to Westmoreland, and " looking again
 on all the old scenes with vast pleasure," he started for the
 continent  upon the 20th of October.  One carriage was oc-
 cupied by Isaac Milner and himself, whilst  in another fol-
 lowed his mother, sister, and two female relatives.   Crossing
 France  to Lyons they embarked  upon  the Rhone ; and
 whilst dropping down its stream to  Avignon, " a voyage of
 four days under a cloudless sky,"  he writes from "just in
 sight of Valence,—

   " TO  LORD MUNCASTER, MUNCASTER CASTLE, CUMBERLAND.

 " My dear Muncaster,
   With much labour and difficulty, by trying every possible
 half hour  when my eyes would bear writing, I have at last
 completely got through the answers to all my letters of busi-
 ness, which  were accumulating into an immense heap on
 my table in Bruton Street, whilst I  was muttering my way-
 ward  fancies on the banks of Windermere; and which, to
 my sore annoyance and  discomfort, I have  brought in my
chaise into the heart of France.  At last they are gone, and
the devil go with them.  For  the  first time since I have
been out, I now take up my pen without reluctance, to give
you a little account of my proceedings  since we  parted  at
the foot of Hardknot.
  " I stayed  at Rayrigg  a very few days, exploring every
quarter, in order to select  some spot for my future residence,
blest with a more than common share of beauty :  but though
I saw several where I could be content to fix myself, if the
eye alone were to be consulted in  the choice, yet as long
as one  lives in  this gross world  one must have regard  to
matters of a more ignoble kind, and a  less refined °nature.
feome situations were rejected because  I should  be too far
trom Kendal  market,  others because of their distance from
the great  boat; and at last, after a most accurate examina-
tion of the whole  lake, I left the country without deciding
any thing, but sorely sinning against that commandment 
1784.
LETTER TO LORD MUNCASTER.
35
which  forbids our  coveting our neighbour's house;  for
near Brathay  Bridge there  is  a  field which is in all re-
spects  supereminent, but which,  as it is very  near  the
house of the gentleman who lately bought the Brathay es-
tate, I have no hopes of being able to purchase, except upon
one ground, that, I mean, of the owner's being insensible to
its value; a conclusion to which one is naturally led, when
one recollects how pure white he has made the bridge ; and
though'in all cases  I now agree with Lady Muncaster, that
gray is better, yet  I don't know if to gain Mr. Law's con-
sent to sell me his field, I  should not be induced to pro-
mise  him to  make my house, stables, and  every foot of
building  about me, as white as white can be.  Well, after
leaving Westmoreland I repaired to London, and spent about
ten days in that neighbourhood, chiefly vibrating between
Wimbledon and Brighthelmstone, and preparing for my jour-
ney into foreign  parts, where I have  been  proceeding  by
slow marches ever since, with  my mother, a couple of sick
cousins, very good girls, whose health we hope to re-esta-
blish by the change of air, and  a most intelligent and excel-
lent friend of mine, a tutor, of a  college in Cambridge, whose
wig I see excites no small astonishment  in the Gallic  per-
ruquiers : he has equipped himself, however, with  one of  a
smaller size, which he is to put  on  when we fix.  At pre-
sent we are  sitting in our carriage  in a  boat, and driving
down the Rhone  to Avignon.   The  scenes are  more ro-
mantic and wonderful than  any one can conceive, except an
inhabitant of Cumberland; and  in  truth, they are so like
your north  country, that my thoughts would naturally recur
to Eskdale, from  the similarity of the surrounding objects,
if they had nought else to lead them  thither;  but this, my
 dear Muncaster, you will do me the  justice to believe, is not
 the case; and I assure you  I have often been looking out of
 your window, when  you have not  seen me, and  been  en-
 deavouring  thus to live over again the pleasant days  I
 passed with you in Cumberland.   I frequently ramble in the
 wood, and I assure you I approve of your alteration in front,
 even more than I expected ; for it does still better in theory
 than  in practice.  You, I suppose, are about this time en-
 countering a more formidable antagonist, and if you are not
 a  better sailor than myself, who was desperately sick be-
 tween Dover and Calais though in the finest morning I ever
 beheld,  you are sincerely to be pitied in your passage across
 the Irish Channel.  When  you get across, I hope your trou-
 bles will be over ; and it will give me pleasure to learn this 
36
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1784.
from you on two grounds, both because  I  shall conclude
your private concerns are brought  to a desirable issue, and
I shall hope that public matters are in a  better train than
when they were last the subject of our conversation.   The
ccelum non animam  mutant is strictly true with respect  to
me; for  though I am five  hundred  miles from  the white
cliffs of  Albion, yet  I do not feel my anxiety diminished
either for ' the General'* or the other friends  I  have left be-
hind me: I beg you will bear this in your mind, and satisfy
me of the existence  and well-being of one of them.  You
have no excuse, whose eyes are as stout as the rest of your
carcass ; and  a book on one's knee is as good a writing-
table as a plank put through the  fore window of the post
chaise.   I shall direct to you at  Muncaster, where if you
are, I beg my best remembrances to  Lady M.  and my little
friends, Gamel and Penny.  Believe me, dear Muncaster,
                            Yours very sincerely,
  Nov. 12,1784.                        W. Wilberforce."

  His daily journal proves him to  have been an acute ob-
server of men and manners, as well as of the various objects
of interest, which presented themselves on  his tour.   His
record of Sunday travelling, and  attendance  on balls,  and
other places  of public amusement, corroborates the  impres-
sion  made by the casual profanity of the letter to Lord Mun-
caster, that, though upon the verge of the important event
which  gave  its  colour  and  importance to his subsequent
career, he was as yet wholly free from the influence of those
principles, which through a  long  life " he adorned in all
things."  The party  made some stay at Nice, during which
one entry in his Diary is as follows:—
  " Out at assemblies and balls frequently.  Gave  dinners
often."
  In all  these  scenes he was constantly accompanied  by
Milner, whose vivacity and  sense, joined  with rustic  and
unpolished  manners, continually  amused  his  friends.__
" Pretty boy, pretty boy," uttered in the broadest Yorkshire
dialect, whilst he stroked familiarly his head, was the mode
in which he  first addressed the young Prince William  of
Gloucester.   "Though  Milner's  religious principles  were
even now, in theory, much the same as in later life, yet they
had at this time little  practical effect upon his conduct.  He
was free  from every taint of vice but not more attentive than
.* Mr. Pitt. 
1785.
ISAAC MILNER.
37
others to  religion ;" (though a clergyman, he never thought
of reading prayers during their whole stay at Nice;) " he ap-
peared  in all  respects like an  ordinary man of the  world,
mixing like myself in  all companies, and  joining as readily
as others  in the prevalent  Sunday parties.   Indeed, when I
engaged him  as a  companion in my tour, I knew  not  that
he had any deeper principles.  The first  time I  discovered
it, was at the public table at Scarborough. The conversation
turned on Mr. Stillingfleet; and I spoke of him  as a good
man,  but one who carried  things too  far.—«Not a  bit too
far,' said Milner; and to this opinion he  adhered, when we
renewed  the  conversation in  the evening on  the  sands.
This declaration greatly surprised me; and it  was agreed
that at some future time we would  talk the  matter over.
Had I known at first what his opinions were, it would have
decided me against making him the offer;  so 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 plans and
inclinations."  The imperfect recollection which he now re-
tained of what he had  seen and felt, when beneath his uncle's
roof at Wimbledon, made him the more ready to condemn,
as extravagance and methodism, all serious attention to re-
ligion ;  and this tendency had doubtless been increased by
his attendance at Mr.  Lindsey's meeting,  which he frequent-
ed, " not from any preference for his  peculiar doctrines, for
in this, except on some great festivals, his preaching differed
little  from that which was then common  amongst the Lon-
don clergy,  but because he seemed more earnest and prac-
tical than  others." Milner, on the contrary, though deficient
in practical  religion, knew enough to  regard it with reve-
rence in others^ and whenever his lively companion treated
it with raillery, would seriously combat his objections, add-
ing, " I am  no match for you, Wilberforce, in this running
fire, but if you really  wish to discuss these  subjects serious-
ly, I will gladly enter  on them with you."  No great impres-
sion could be expected on another from reasonings which  so
little influenced himself; and their discussions appear to have
been  merely speculative up  to  the period of their quitting
Nice in the winter of  1784-5.  Just before this journey, Mr.
Wilberforce took up  casually a little volume, (Doddridge's
Rise and Progress of Religion,) which Mr. Unwin, Cowper's
correspondent, had  given to the mother of one amongst his
fellow-travellers, and casting  his  eye  over  it hastily, asked
Milner what was its character.—" It is one of the best books
                            4 
38
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1785.
 ever written," was his answer;  " let us take it with us and
 read it on our journey."  He easily consented, and they read
 it carefully together,  with thus much  effect, that he deter-
 mined at some future season to examine the Scriptures  for
 himself, and see if things were  stated there in the  same man-
ner.  In this journey he was alone with Milner.*
   Leaving his family at Nice, he returned  to support  the
 cause of parliamentary reform.   The journey across France
 at that season of  the year was not then accomplished with-
 out  some  risks.   Leaving summer  behind them at  Nice,
 they travelled from Antibes, through eighteen days of snow.
 Once upon the hills of Burgundy, as  they climbed a frozen
 road, the  weight  of  their  carriage overpowered  the horses,
 and it was just running over a frightful precipice, when Mil.
 ner, who was walking behind,  perceived the  danger, and by
 a sudden effort of his great strength of muscle arrested its
 descent.   Feb. 22d, he reached  London.  " Took up my
 quarters at Pitt's."
   During the remainder of the  session he attended constant-
 ly in his place, and  took  part  occasionally in  the debates.
 He still lived in a constant round of company and amuse-
 ment, dining twice or three times a week  with  Mr. Pitt—
 joining in the festivities in which  Dundas delighted at Wim-
 bledon and Richmond; whilst  " sitting up all night singing
 —shirked Duchess of Gordon, at Almack's—danced till five
 in the morning;" are  fair samples  of the common descriptions
 of his days.   Yet already, amongst these lighter  memorials,
 there appears from time to time a new tone  of deeper feel-
 ing.—" Dined Hamilton's—christening—very indecent—all
 laughing round. Opera—shocking dance of Festin de Pierre,
 and  unmoved audience.   S. and I talked—strange that the
 most generous  men and religious,  do not see that  their
 duties  increase with their fortune, and that they will  be
 punished for  spending it  in eating, &c.  Sir G.  Beaumont
 and  Lady, Phipps, &c.  to dine  with  me at Wimbledon—
 Phipps's chat from Locke to New Testament."   But these
 thoughts were as  yet entirely speculative; exercising no ap-
 parent influence upon his conduct.  The session  which had
 been expected to  terminate in  May, was not concluded at
 the end of June, and  before he  could leave  town  on his  re-
 turn to Provence the  increasing heat of summer had emptied
 Nice. Genoa was fixed on for  their rendezvous; and thither
* See Appendix. 
1785.
LETTER TO LORD MUNCASTER.
39
the ladies  were adventurous enough to sail in a  felucca
under the sole escort of their courier. Here they were joined
by Mr. Wilberforce and I. Milner, upon the 7th of July, and
on the 11th  set out together on  their road to Switzerland.
They travelled as in their former journey, and the conversa-
tion between Mr. Wilberforce and Milner became more im-
portant than  before.  They began, as Milner had proposed,
to read the Greek Testament, and to examine carefully the
doctrines which it taught.   From Genoa they went by Turin
to Geneva, and  fell in there  with several of their English
friends.    From  Geneva the  party  passed  on  to  Berne,
whence he wrote playfully to his friend in Cumberland.

                   TO LORD MUNCASTER.

                                  " Berne, 14th Aug. 1785.
" Dear Muncaster,
   That a man who has been for the last  week environed  by
eternal snows, and hemmed in by the Shreckhorn, and the
Wetterhorn, and the Jungfrau, should stoop to take notice of
a grovelling being, who crawls along the level surface of the
county of Cumberland, is an instance of genuine steadiness
and equal serenity of temper, which will not pass unobserved
and unadmired before so accurate an observer as yourself.
Yet I dare say you think yourself most magnificent, with  your
Hardknot and Wrynose, and discover in your Lilliput, risings
and fallings invisible to the  grosser organs of the inhabitant
of Brobdignag.—If you read  on  thus far, I am sure  your
patience will  hold out no longer, and my letter goes into the
fire, which in your cold pari of the world you will certainly
be sitting over when my packet arrives, about the end of the
month. You then go to Lady  Muncaster, and with a glance
on your sevenfold shield,  on which the setting sun is gleam-
ing with  a brilliancy which would  throw a  stoic into rap-
tures, you lament over me as a poof, infatuated, perverted
renegade,  'false  to my gods,  my country, and my father.'
The greatest  punishment your old regard will suffer you to
inflict on  me, will be a  perpetual condemnation to breathe
the air of the House of Commons, and to have no other ideas
of a country prospect, or a country life, than can be collected
from a stare from Richmond hill, or a dinner  at the Star and
Garter.   No, Muncaster, I  am no renegade.   True to my
first love, a long and intimate acquaintance has made me
find out so many excellences and  perfections  that my affec- 
40
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1785.
tions are not  to be  changed,  though in  the  course of my
travels I see a fairer  face, or a  more exquisite symmetry,

          1 Tis the dear, the blest effect of Celia altogether.'

If therefore you  should hear of my taking a country house
in one of the Swiss  cantons, don't take it for granted that I
have forgot the  land of promise.   Allow now  and then a
transient infidelity; my constancy  shall be unshaken to my
true Dulcinea.  ' These are my visits, but she is my home.'
   But to drop all metaphor,  I have never been in any other
part of the world, for which I could quit a residence in Eng-
land with so little  regret: God grant  that the public  and
private  state of our own country may  never  reduce  it  to
such a situation as to give this  the  preference in my esteem.
At present I  have the same  unalterable affection  for Old
England, founded as I think in reason, or as foreigners would
tell me, in prejudice;  but I  feel  sometimes infected with a
little of your own anxiety;  I  fancy I  see  storms  arising,
which already ' no bigger than a  man's  hand,' will by and
by overspread and blacken the whole face of heaven.   It is
not the confusion of parties,  and  their quarrelling and  bat-
tling in the House of Commons, which makes me despair  of
the republic, (if I knew a word half  way between  'appre-
hend for' and ' despair,' that  would best express my mean-
ing,) but it is the universal corruption and profligacy of the
times, which taking its rise amongst the rich and luxurious
has now extended  its  baneful  influence and spread its de-
structive  poison through  the  whole body  of  the people.
When the mass of  blood is corrupt, there is no  remedy but
amputation.
  I beg my best remembrances to Lady Muncaster,, and my
little friends,  Penny  and Gam.  Tell the latter if he  will
meet me at Spa, I will  turn  him  into a pancake as often as
he will.
             Believe me to be
                    ever yours most affectionately,
                                   W.  Wilberforce."

  His discussions with  Isaac Milner were continued through-
out this journey,  until "by degrees  I imbibed his sentiments,
though I must confess with shame, that they long remained
merely as opinions assented to by my understanding,  but
not influencing my heart.  My interest in them certainly in- 
1785.
DISCUSSIONS WITH  MILNER.
41
creased, and at length I began to be impressed with a sense
of their  importance.   Milner, though  full  of levity on all
other  subjects, never spoke on this but  with the utmost
seriousness, and all he said, tended to increase my attention
to religion."   So interesting  were these conversations now
become  to him, that  his fellow-travellers complained of the
infrequency of his visits to their carriage.   In this state of
feeling he arrived at Spa, and spent almost six weeks in that
"curious assemblage from all parts of Europe."  Amongst
the rest were many of his English friends ;  and  though on
some few points he now controverted their  opinions, yet in
general he joined freely in their ordinary pleasures.   " Mrs.
Crewe," he says, " cannot  believe that I can think it wrong
to go to  the play.—Surprised at hearing that halting on the
Sunday was  my wish, and not my mother's."  Yet though
his outward appearance gave little  evidence of their exist-
ence, deeper feelings were at work  beneath.  " Often  while
in the full enjoyment of all that  this world  could  bestow,
my conscience told me that in the true sense of the word, I
was not  a Christian.   I laughed, I  sang, I  was  apparently
gay  and happy,  but  the thought would  steal across me,
' What  madness  is  all this;  to continue  easy  in  a  state
in which  a sudden call out of the world would consign me
to everlasting misery, and that, when eternal happiness is
within my grasp!'  For I had received into my understand-
ing the great truths of the gospel, and  believed that its offers
were free and universal; and that God had promised to give
his Holy Spirit  to  them that asked for it.   At length such
thoughts as these completely occupied my mind, and I began
to pray earnestly."  " Began three or four days ago," he
says, Oct. 25th, " to get up very early.  In the solitude and
self-conversation of the morning had thoughts, which I trust
will come to something."—" 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,
and  I condemned myself for having wasted my precious
time, and opportunities,  and talents."  Thus he returned
home; another man in his  inner being, yet  manifesting out-
wardly so little of the  hidden  struggle, "that it  was  not,"
says one of his companions, " until many months after our
return, that I learned what had been passing in his mind."
  Upon the 10th of November  he reached Wimbledon, and
as parliament  did not meet until the following February, he
was  much alone and had leisure to commune with himself.
                           4* 
42
LIFE  OF  WILBERFORCE.
1785.
The more he reflected, the deeper  became his new impres-
sions.  " It was not so much,"  he has said, " the  fear of
punishment by which I was affected, as a sense of my great
sinfulness in having so long neglected the unspeakable mer-
cies of my God and Saviour ; and such was the effect which
this thought produced, that for months I was in a state of
the deepest depression, from strong convictions of my guilt.
Indeed nothing which I have ever read in the accounts of
others, exceeded  what I then felt."  These were now his
habitual feelings; carefully concealed  from others,  and in
some measure no  doubt dispelled by company, but reviving
in their full force as soon as he retired into himself.
  Whilst  this struggle was at its  height, he commenced a
private Journal, with the view of making himself " humble
and watchful."  The entries of this private record mark the
difficulties and  variations  of his  mind, while they show
strikingly  the spirit of practical improvement by  which  he
was directed.
  " Nov. 24th.  Heard the Bible  read  two hours—Pascal
one hour and a quarter—meditation one hour and  a quarter
—business the same.  If ever I take myself from the imme-
diate consideration of  serious things, I entirely lose sight of
them ; this must be a lesson to me  to keep them constantly
in view.   Pitt called, and  commended  Butler's Analogy—
resolved to write to him, and discover to him what I am oc-
cupied about: this will save me  much embarrassment, and
I hope give me  more  command both of my time  and con-
duct.
  " 25th. Up  at six—private devotions half an hour—Pascal
three quarters—to town on business.   I feel quite giddy and
distracted by the tumult, except when in situations of which
I am  rather  ashamed, as  in the stage-coach :  the  shame,
pride; but a useful lesson.—St. Antholyn's—Mr. Forster's__
felt much devotion, and wondered  at a man who fell asleep
during the Psalms : during the sermon I fell asleep myself.__
Walked, and  stage-coach, to save the expense of a chaise.
  " 26th.  Went out early—wrote to S. and got his answer,
very affectionate and kind, God  bless him—refused to go to
Camden Place, and to  Pitt's; but all religious thoughts so off
in London—I hope by explaining my situation and feelings,
to relieve  myself from my  embarrassment.
   " Sunday, 27th. Up at six—devotions half an hour—Pascal
three quarters—Butler  three quarters—church—read the
Bible, too ramblingly,  for an hour—heard  Butler, but not 
1785.
JOURNAL.
43
attentively, two hours—meditated twenty  minutes—hope I
was  more  attentive  at  church  than usual,  but  serious
thoughts vanished the moment I went out of it, and very
insensible and  cold  in the evening  service—some very
strong feelings  when I went to bed ;  God  turn them to ac-
count, and in any way bring me to  himself.   I have been
thinking I have been doing well by living alone, and reading
generally on religious  subjects ; I must awake to my  dan-
gerous state, and never be at rest till  I have made my peace
with God.   My heart is so hard, my blindness so great, that
I cannot get a due hatred of sin, though I  see I am all cor-
rupt,  and blinded to the perception of spiritual things.
   " 28th. I  hope as long as I live to be the better  for the
meditation of this evening; it  was on  the sinfulness of my
own heart, and its blindness and weakness.  True, Lord, I
am wretched, and miserable, and blind, and naked.   What
infinite love, that Christ should  die to save such  a sinner,
and how necessary is it He should save us altogether, that
we may appear before God with nothing of our own!  God
grant I may not deceive myself, in thinking I feel the begin-
nings of gospel comfort.   Began this night constant family
prayer, and resolved to have it every morning and  evening,
 and to read a chapter when time.
    " Tuesday, 29th. I bless God I enjoyed  comfort in prayer
 this evening.  I  must keep my own  unworthiness  ever in
 view.  Pride is my greatest stumbling-block ;  and there is
 danger in it in two ways—lest it should make me desist from
 a  Christian life,  through fear of the world, my friends, &c.;
 or if I persevere, lest it should  make  me vain of so doing.
 In all  disputes  on  religion, I must  be  particularly on my
 guard to distinguish it from a zeal for God and his cause.
 I must consider and set down the marks whereby they may
 be known  from each other.  I will form a plan of my par-
 ticular duty, praying God to enable me to do it properly, and
 set it before me as a chart of the country, and map of the
 road I must travel.   Every morning some subject of thought
 for the  hours of walking, lounging, &c. if alone.
    " Nov. 30th. Was very fervent in  prayer this  morning,
 and thought these warm  impressions would never go off.
  Yet in  vain endeavoured  in  the evening  to  rouse myself.
 God grant it may not all  prove vain; oh if it does, how will
  my  punishment  be deservedly increased !  The only way I
  find of moving myself, is by thinking of my great transgres-
  sions,  weakness, blindness, and of God's having promised to 
44
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1785.
supply these defects.  But though I firmly believe them, yet I
read of future judgment, and think of God's wrath against sin-
ners, with no great emotions.  What can so strongly show
the stony heart?  O God, give me a heart of flesh!  Nothing
so convinces me of the dreadful state of my own mind, as the
possibility, which, if I did not know it from experience, I should
believe impossible, of my being ashamed of Christ. Ashamed
of the Creator of all things !   One who has received infinite
pardon and mercy, ashamed of the Dispenser of it, and that
in a country where his name is professed !  Oh, what  should
I have done in persecuting times 1 (Forgot to set down that
when my servants came in the first time to family  prayer, I
felt ashamed.")
  " I thought seriously this evening  of going to converse
with Mr. Newton—waked in  the night—obliged to compel
myself to think of God."
  " Dec. 2d. Resolved again about Mr. Newton. It may do
good ;  he will pray for me ; his experience may enable him
to direct me to new grounds of humiliation,* and it is  that
only which  I can perceive God's Spirit employ  to any effect.
It can do no harm, for that is a scandalous  objection  which
keeps occurring to me, that if ever my sentiments change, I
shall be ashamed of having done it: it can only humble me,
and, whatever is the right way, if truth be right I ought  to
be humbled—but, sentiments change! Kept debating in that
unsettled way to which I have used myself, whether to go  to
London  or  not, and then how—wishing to save expense, I
hope with a good motive,  went at last in the stage  to town
—inquired for old Newton ;  but found  he lived too  far off
for me to see him—lingered till time to go to Mr. Forster's
—much struck with  the  text,  2  Chron. xv. 2—afterwards
walked home."
  He now began to open to his  friends the change  which
had passed upon him.   His own way he hoped would be
clearer when his principles were understood; and the frank
avowal of his altered views was due to those with whom he
had lived hitherto in  levity  and thoughtlessness.  Some
treated this announcement as the effect of a temporary de-
pression, which social intercourse would soon  relieve;  one
threw angrily his letter in the fire; others knowing that his
past life  had  not been  vicious, imagined that  he could but
turn ascetic, and regretted their expected loss of his  social
accomplishments and  political assistance.  He  wrote to  Mr.
Pitt amongst the rest; opening fully the grounds on  which 
1785.
CONVERSATION WITH PITT.
45
he acted, and the bearing of his new principles upon his pub-
lic conduct—" I told him  that though I should ever  feel a
strong affection for him, and  had every reason to believe
that  I should be in general able  to support him, yet  that I
could no more be so  much a party man as I had  been
before."  On the 2d of December » I got," he says, " Pitt's
answer—much affected by it—to see him in the morning."
"It was full  of kindness—nothing I  had told  him, he said,
could affect our friendship; that he wished me  always  to act
as I  thought  right.  I had said that I thought  when we met
we had  better not discuss  the topics of my letter.  ' Why
not discuss them V was his answer; 'let me come to  Wim-
bledon to-morrow, to talk them over with you.'  He thought
that  I was out of spirits, and that company and conversation
would be the best way of dissipating my impressions." Mr.
Pitt  came the next morning as he had proposed, and found
Mr.  Wilberforce not unprepared for the discussion.  " I had
prayed," he says,  "to God, I hope with some sincerity, not
to lead me into disputing for my own  exaltation, but for his
glory.  Conversed with Pitt near two  hours,  and opened
myself completely to him.   I admitted that as far as I could
conform to  the world,  with a perfect regard to my duty to
God, myself and  my fellow-creatures, I was bound to do it;
that no inward feelings ought to be taken as demonstrations
of the Spirit being in any man,  (was not this too general ?
' witnesseth with one Spirit,' &c.) but only the  change  of dis-
position and conduct."  " He  tried to reason  me out  of my
convictions, but soon found himself unable to  combat their
correctness, if Christianity were  true.  The fact is, he was
so absorbed in politics, that he had never given himself time
for  due reflection on religion.  But amongst other things he
declared to  me, that Bishop Butler's work raised in his mind
more doubts than it had answered."
   Though he now felt more than ever the need of some like-
minded associates in the narrow path which lay before him,
he could scarcely bring himself to form these new connex-
ions.  " Had a good deal of debate  with  myself,"  he says,
Dec. 3d, " about seeing Newton ; but  the rather right  if I
talk upon the subject with those who differ from me, as I am
so new to it myself."   This self-debate issued in his writing
to Mr.  Newton. 
46
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1785.
                TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.
                                        " Dec. 2d, 1785.
" Sir,
   There is no need of apology for intruding on you, when
the errand is religion.  I wish to have some serious conver-
sation with you, and  will take the liberty of calling on you
for that purpose, in half an  hour; when, if you cannot re-
ceive me, you will have the  goodness to let me have a letter
put into my hands at the door, naming a time and place for
our  meeting, the earlier the more agreeable to  me.  1 have
had ten thousand doubts within myself, whether or not I
should discover myself to you; but every argument against
doing it has its foundation in pride.  I am sure you will hold
yourself bound to let no one living know of this application,
or of my visit, till I release you from the obligation."  (What
follows, as well as the signature, is torn off.)
  " P. S. Remember that I must be secret,  and  that the gal-
lery of the  House is  now  so  universally attended, that the
face of a member of parliament is pretty well known."

  This letter he took  with him, upon Sunday, Dec. 4th, into
the city, and " delivered it"  himself " to old Newton  at his
church." The following Wednesday was named for  an in-
terview ; and then, says he,  " after walking about the Square
once or twice before I could persuade myself, I  called upon
old Newton—was much affected in conversing  with  him—
something very pleasing and unaffected in him.  He told me
he always had entertained hopes and confidence that God
would some time bring me to Him—that he had heard from
J. Thornton  we had declined Sunday visits  abroad—on  the
whole  he encouraged me—though got nothing new from
him, as how could I, except  a good hint, that he never found
it answer to dispute, and  that it was as well not to make
visits that one disliked over  agreeable.   When I came away
I found my  mind in a  calm, tranquil state, more humbled,
and looking more devoutly up  to God."  It  was part of Mr.
Newton's counsel, that he should  not hastily form new con-
nexions, nor widely separate from his former friends.  This
very day, accordingly, he says, " as I promised,  I went to
Pitt's—sad  work—I went there  in fear, and for some time
kept an awe on my mind—my feelings lessened  in the even-
ing, and I could scarce lift  up myself in prayer to God  at
night."
  " 7th.  At  Holwood—up  early and prayed, but  not with
much warmth—then to the St. John's  at  Beckenham.   In 
1785.
AT HOLWOOD.
47
chaise opened myself to----,  who had felt much four years
ago when very ill.  He says that H.  took off his then reli-
gious feelings—but query, what did he give him in the room
of them 1   Rather tried to show off at the St. John's, and
completely forgot God—came  away in a sad state to town,
and was reduced almost to wish myself like others  when I
saw  the carriages and  people going  to court, &c.  With
what different sensations of confidence and comfort did I
come away from Newton and  Beckenham ! the one was
confidence in myself; the other in God.  Got out of town ;
but instead of mending when  alone, as I dismissed all cau-
tion, I grew worse, and my mind in a sad state this evening,
—could scarcely pray, but  will hope  and  wait on God.—
Thursday, 8th.  Very cold  all  day, and dead to  religious
things,  could  not warm myself in  prayer or meditation;
even doubted if I was in the  right way: and all generals:
no particular objection.  O God, deliver  me from myself!
when I  trust to myself I am darkness and weakness."
   He had  not yet attained  that  self-command, which after-
wards  enabled him  to mingle in these gay scenes  with an
untainted spirit.  Yet even now he  saw through the gaudy
show.  " At the levee," he says some weeks before this time,
" and then dined at Pitt's—sort of cabinet dinner—was often
thinking that  pompous  Thurlow, and elegant Carmarthen,
would  soon appear  in the same row with the poor fellow
 who waited behind their chairs." Solitude and self-reflection
 restored  him  to  himself.   " Dec. 9th. God I hope  has  had
 mercy  on me, and given me  again  some  spark of grace.—
 Dined  at  Mrs.  Wilberforce's (his  aunt)—Mr. Thornton
 there.   How unaffectedly happy he is—oh that I were  like
 him.  I grow hardened and more callous than ever—a little
 moved  in prayer, but when I leave my study I cannot  keep
 religious thoughts and impressions on my  mind.
   "°Dec. 11th, Sunday.—Heard Newton on the * addiction'
 of the soul to God.   ' They that observe lying vanities shall
 forsake their own mercy.'—Excellent.  He shows his whole
 heart  is  engaged.   I felt sometimes moved at church, but
 am  still callous.
   " 12th.  More fervent, I hope, in prayer—resolved more in
 God's  strength ; therefore, I  hope,  likely to  keep my  reso-
 lutions—rather shocked at  Lady L.'s: these people have no
 thought of their souls.
   " f3th. I hope I  feel more than I did of divine assistance.
 May I  be enabled to submit  to it in distrust of myself.  1
  do  not know what to make of myself; but I resolve, under 
48
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1785.
God, to go on.  Much struck in Mr.  Newton's Narrative,
where  he  says he once persevered two years, and went
back again.   Oh may I be preserved from relapse!  and yet
if I cannot stand now, how shall I be able to do it  when
the  struggle comes on in earnest ?—I am too intent upon
shining in company, and must curb  myself here."
  ♦' Behold  me," he writes to his sister, " by my own fire-
side, in all the state of an arm-chair, and the peaceable pos-
session of my own time, which I am endeavouring to improve
to some more  rational purposes than those to which I have in
general made it subservient.  My studies chiefly point one
way, but then  it is that way in which it is  of infinite  im-
portance that our views should be clear and settled.   I hope
my  dear sister will in  some degree be the better for them ;
at least, if nothing else, she will have a  proof of my affection,
when, as I design, I send her from time to time a sheet  full
of my lucubrations.  Letter-writing  like conversation should
be a transcript of the  thoughts for the hour in which one has
the pen in hand ; and as my thoughts  run generally in one cur-
rent, it would  be a violence to attempt to  turn the stream
into another channel:  not that I mean to give up the pro-
priety of'from grave to gay,' but the one should be the busi-
ness, the other the relaxation of life;  and there is no such
firm ground on which to fix the foundation of a perpetual gay-
ety, (though gayety but  ill expresses my idea,) as to have
been grave to  good purpose.  I will give it a more worthy epi-
thet than gay.  Let me call it serenity, tranquillity, composure
which  is not to be destroyed ; though,  in the limited  degree
in which we yet possess it, it may, alas! be ruffled by all the
tumult and noise, and even all the accidents and misfortunes,
of the world.   May you, my dear sister, be possessed of that
temper  which  we can only get one  way, but in that may be
sure of it."
  To this serenity of  mind  he had not yet attained.  " I go
off  sadly," he  says now of himself on different days,"—" I
am colder and  more insensible  than I was—I  ramble—O
God, protect me from myself—I never yet think of  religion
but by constraint—I am in a most doubtful state.  To New-
ton's, but when  he prayed I was cold and dead ; and the
moment we were out of his house, seriousness  decayed."
" Very wretched—all  sense gone."  " Colder than  ever—
very unhappy—called at Newton's, and bitterly moved ; he
comforted me."  Yet some gleams of the coming sunshine
even now gladdened  him at favoured intervals.
  " Tuesday,  Dec.  20th.  More enlarged  and  sincere in 
1785.
JOURNAL.
49
prayer—went to hear Romaine—dined at the Adelphi: both
before and afterwards much affected by seriousness.  Went
to hear Forster, who very good :  enabled to join  in  the
prayers with my whole heart, and never so happy in my life,
as this whole evening—enlarged in private  prayer, and have
a good hope towards God."  " Got up Wednesday morning
in the same frame of mind, and filled with  peace, and hope,
and  humility; yet some  doubts if all this real, or will be
lasting—Newton's church—he has my leave to mention my
case to my aunt and Mr.  Thornton—not quite so warm, but
still a good hope—I trust God is with me :  but he must ever
keep beside me; for I  fall the moment I am left to myself.
I stayed in town to attend the ordinances, and have been glo-
riously blest in them.
   " 23d. I do  not  find the  use of keeping a diary in this
way;  I will therefore try how I go on without.  I  think it
rather makes  me satisfied with myself, by leading me to
compare the number of hours  I spend seriously with those
others do; when all depends on doing it to good purpose.
Was strengthened in prayer, and trust  I  shall be able to
live more to God, which  determined to do—much affected
by Doddridge's directions for spending time, and  hope to
conform to  them in some degree: it  must be  by force at
first, for I find I perpetually wander from serious thoughts
when I am off my guard.
   " 24th. Up very early, and passed  some hours tolerably,
according to my resolutions ;  but indolence comes upon me.
Resolved to practise Doddridge's rules, and prayed to  God
to enable me.   I wish to take the sacrament to-morrow,
that it may fix this variable, and affect this senseless heart,
which of itself is dead alike to all emotions of terror and
gratitude in spiritual things."
   He did not venture to communicate according to his wish :
he had learned to view the eucharist rather as an act of
self-dedication than as a means of grace ; or the spirit which
induced him to record, " there is nothing  so blessed to me
as the gospel ordinances," would have led him at this season
to the table of the Lord.  His diligence in using all the
means of grace was a striking feature of his new character.
" What  my heart most  impels me now to say to you," he
writes  to his sister, "is  ' Search  the Scriptures,' and  with
all that earnestness and  constancy which  that  book claims
in which  ' are the words  of eternal life.'  Never  read  it
without praying to God that he will open your eyes to un< 
50
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1785.
derstand it; for the power of comprehending it comes from
him, and him only.   ' Seek and ye shall find,' says our Sa-
viour ; ' Take heed how ye hear;' which implies, that unless
we seek, and diligently too, we shall not find;  and, unless
we take heed we shall be deceived in hearing.   There is no
opinion so fatal as  that which  is  commonly received in
these liberal days, that a person is in a safe state with re-
spect to a future world, if he acts tolerably up to his know-
ledge and convictions, though he may not have taken much
pains about acquiring this knowledge or fixing these convic-
tions."  What  he pressed on her, he  diligently practised.
He now spent  several hours  daily  in earnest study of the
Scripture ; he took lodgings in the Adelphi, that he might be
within  reach of pastoral instructions which simply  incul-
cated its truths ;  and he  began to seek the friendship of
those who feared God.   He withdrew his name from all the
clubs of which  he was a member—a precaution, which he
thought essential to  his safety in the critical circumstances
in which  he was placed.   " Living in town," he says, "  dis-
agrees with me, I must endeavour to find Christian converse
in the  country."  To this he was  seasonably invited two
days afterward, by his near connexion Mr. Thornton.

              TO WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, ESQ.

  .,  ,   „,                          " Clapham, Dec. 24.
" My dear Sir,
   You may easier conceive than I can  express the satisfac-
tion I had from a few minutes' converse with Mr.  Newton
yesterday afternoon.   As in nature, so in grace, what comes
very quickly forward, rarely abides  long:  I am aware of
your difficulties, which call for great  prudence and caution.
Those that believe, must not make haste, but be content to
go God's pace, and watch the leadings of his providence as
of the  pillar and the cloud formerly.  There is a danger in
running from church to church to hear: more  profit is ob-
tained under one or two ministers.   You cannot be too wary
in forming connexions.   The fewer new friends, perhaps the
better.  I shall at any time be glad to see you here  and'can
quarter you, and let you be as retired as possible, and hope
we shall never be on a footing of ceremony.
                 I am, my dear Sir,
                        your most devoted kinsman,
                                     John Thornton." 
1786.
LETTER TO HIS MOTHER.
51
  Jan. 11th. To town and Woolnooth—after church, brought
Mr. Newton down in chaise—dined and slept at Wimbledon
—composure and happiness of a true  Christian: he read
the account of his poor niece's death, and shed tears of joy.
12th. Newton stayed—Thornton Astell surprised us together
on the common in the evening.  Expect to hear myself now
universally given out to be a methodist: may God grant it
may be said with truth."
  To his mother, who had been alarmed  by some such ru-
mour, he explained soon afterwards his  real sentiments.  " It
is not, believe me, to my own imagination, or to any system
formed in my closet, that I look for my principles; it is to the
very source to which you refer me, the  Scriptures.....All
that I contend for is, that we  should really make this book
the criterion of our opinions and actions, and not read it and
then think that we do so of course; but if we do this, we must
reckon on not finding ourselves able to comply with all those
customs of the world, in which many  who call themselves
Christians are too apt to indulge without reflection: ....  we
must of course [therefore]  be subject  to the charge of  ex-
cess and singularity.   But in what will this singularity con-
sist ?  Not merely in indifferent  things; no,  in these our
Saviour always conformed, and took occasion to check an
unnecessary strictness into which he saw men were led by
overstraining a good principle.   In what then will these pe-
culiarities appear ?   Take our great  Master's  own  words ;
« Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with  all thy heart, with
 all thy mind, and with all thy strength;  and thy neighbour
 as thyself.'  It would be easy to dilate on this text; and I
 am afraid that we  should find at the close of the discourse
 that the  picture was very unlike the  men of this world.
 ' But who is my neighbour V   Here,  too,  our Saviour  has
 instructed us by the parable which follows.  It is evident we
 are to consider our peculiar situations, and in these to do all
 the good we can.   Some men are thrown  into public, some
 have their  lot in private  life.   These  different states have
 their corresponding duties; and  he  whose destination is of
 the former sort, will  do as ill to immure himself in solitude,
 as he who is only a village Hampden would, were he to head
 an army or address a senate.  What I have said will, I hope,
 be sufficient to remove any apprehensions that I mean to
 shut myself up either in my closet in town, or in my hermi-
 tage in the country.  No, my dear  mother, in  my circum-
 stances this would merit no better name than desertion; and 
52
LIFE OF WILBEBFORC'E.
1786.
 if I  were thus to fly from the  post where  Providence has
 placed me, I know not how I could look for the blessing of
 God upon my retirement:  and without this  heavenly assist-
 ance, either in the world or in solitude our own endeavours
 will  be equally ineffectual.   When I consider the particulars
 of my duty, I blush  at  the review; but  my  shame is not
 occasioned by my thinking that I am too studiously diligent
 in the business of life; on  the contrary, I then feel that I am
 serving God  best when from  proper  motives I am  most
 actively engaged in it.   What humbles me is, the sense that
 I forego so many opportunities of doing good; and it is my
 constant prayer, that God will enable me to  serve him  more
 steadily,  and  my fellow-creatures more assiduously:  and I
 trust that my prayers will  be granted  through the interces-
 sion  of that Saviour ' by whom' only ' we have access with
 confidence into this grace wherein we stand ;' and who has
 promised that he will lead  on  his people  from strength to
 strength, and gradually form them  to a more complete re-
 semblance of their divine original."
  " Watch and pray,"  he wrote  earnestly to his sister;
 " read the word  of God, imploring that true wisdom which
 may enable you to comprehend and fix it in  your heart, that
 it may gradually produce its effect  under the operation of
 the Holy Spirit, in renewing the mind and purifying the con-
 duct.  This it will do more and more the  longer  we live
under its influence ; and it is to the honour of religion, that
those who when they first  began to run the Christian course,
 were in extremes . . enthusiastical,  perhaps,  or rigidly se-
vere . . will often by degrees lose their several imperfections,
which though  by the world laid unfairly  to the account of
their religion,  were yet undoubtedly so many disparagements
to it: . . . like  some of our Westmoreland evenings, when
 though in the course of the day the  skies have been ob-
scured by clouds and vapours, yet towards its close the sun
beams forth with unsullied lustre,  and descends below the
 horizon in the full display of all his glories:  shall I pursue
 the metaphor,  just to suggest, that this is the earnest of a
 joyful rising,  which will not be disappointed?  The  great
 thing we have to do, is to be perpetually reminding ourselves
 that  we are but  strangers  and  pilgrims, having no abiding
 city, but looking for a city which hath foundations; and by
 the power of  habit which God  has been graciously pleased
 to bestow upon us, our work will every day become easier,
 if we  accustom ourselves to cast  our care on him, and 
1786.
LETTER TO HIS SISTER.
53
labour in a persuasion of his co-operation.   The true Chris-
tian  will  desire to  have constant  communion  with his
Saviour.  The  eastern nations had their talismans, which
were to advertise them of every danger,  and guard  them
from every mischief.   Be the love of Christ our talisman."
  Upon Good Friday, April 14th, he communicated;  and
upon the  following Easter Sunday enters  in his Journal:
" At Stock with the Unwins—day delightful, out almost all of
it—communicated—very happy."

                  TO MISS WILBERFORCE.
                                     " Stock, April 16, 1786.
  " About five o'clock yesterday I put myself into  a  post-
chaise, and in four hours found myself safely lodged with
the vicar of Stock.  It is more than  a  month  since I  slept
out of town, and I feel all that  Milton attributes to the man
who has been

                 «long in populous cities pent,
           Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air.'

I scarce recollect to have  spent so  pleasant a day  as that
which is  now nearly over.  My heart opens  involuntarily
to Unwin and his wife; I fancy I have been with them every
day  since we  first became acquainted at  Nottingham, and
expand  to them with all the confidence of a twelve years'
intimacy.   Can  my dear sister wonder that I call on her to
participate in the pleasure I am tasting.  I know how you
sympathize in the happiness of those you love, and  I  could
not therefore forgive myself if I were to keep my raptures
to myself, and not invite you to partake of my enjoyment.
The day has been  delightful.  I  was  out  before six, and
made the fields my oratory, the sun shining as bright and as
warm as at midsummer.   I think my own devotions become
more fervent when offered in  this way amidst the general
chorus,  with which all nature  seems on such  a morning to
be swelling the song of praise and thanksgiving ; and except
the time that has been spent at church and at dinner,  ... and
neither in the sanctuary nor at table I trust, had I a  heart
unwarmed with gratitude to the Giver of all good things... I
have been all day basking in the siin.  On  any other  day I
should not have been so happy : a  sense that I was neglect-
ing the  duties of my situation might have interrupted the
course of my enjoyments, and have taken from their totality ;
                           5* 
54
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1786.
for in such a situation as mine every moment may be made
useful  to  the  happiness of  my fellow-creatures.  But the
sabbath is a season of rest, in which we may be allowed to
unbend the mind, and give a  complete loose to  those  emo-
tions of gratitude and admiration, which a contemplation of
the works, and a consideration of the goodness, of God can-
not fail to  excite in a mind of the smallest sensibility.  And
surely this sabbath, of all others, is that which calls  forth
these feelings in a supreme degree ; a frame of united love
and triumph well becomes it, and holy confidence and unre-
strained affection.  May  every sabbath be to me,  and to
those I love, a renewal of these feelings, of which  the small
tastes we have in this life should make us look forward to
that eternal rest, which awaits the people of God ;  when the
whole will be a never-ending enjoyment of those feelings of
love and joy and admiration and gratitude, which are,  even
in the  limited degree we  here experience  them, the truest
sources of comfort; when these, I say, will dictate  perpetual
songs of thanksgiving without fear and  without satiety.
My eyes are bad, but I could not resist the impulse I felt
to call on  you and tell you how happy I have  been."

   In the spring of 1786, Mr. Wilberforce returned an altered
man to his business in the   House of  Commons.  There
were indeed no external symptoms to announce the change
which had passed over him.  " Though I had told Pitt,"
he says, "that I could not  promise him  unqualified sup-
port, I  was surprised to  find  how generally we  agreed."
Yet many silent intimations  now bespoke the presence of
higher motives than a mere desire of personal distinction.
   In the latter part  of the  session Mr.  Wilberforce, who
delighted  in escaping for a single night from London, " be-
gan to  sleep constantly at Wimbledon;"   yet  thinking  it
an unfavourable "situation  for  his  servants," a needless
increase of his  personal  expenses, and  a cause  of  some
loss of time,  he determined  to forego  in  future the luxury
of such a villa.   The influence of his  new principles was
rapidly  pervading all his  conduct.  After a  public break-
fast given at  this time he subjected himself to the severest
scrutiny.   "In how sad a state,"  he  says, "is my soul
to-day !   Yesterday, when I had company at Wimbledon,
I gave the reins to [myself]; sometimes forgetting, at others
acting in  defiance of God.   If Christ's  promise, that he
will hear  those  who call  upon him, were less direct and
general, I  durst not plead for mercy,  but should fall into 
1786.
EMPLOYMENT OF TIME.
55
despair;  and from what I perceive  of the actual  workings
of my soul, the next step would be an abandoning of my-
self to all impiety.  But Christ has graciously promised that
he will be made unto  us not  redemption only  but  sanc-
tification.  O !  give  me a new heart, and put a right spirit
within me, that I may  keep thy statutes and  do  them.
This week has been sadly spent; I will  keep a more strict
watch over myself by God's grace."
  With the close of the  session " I got off  at  last from
town," says  the  Diary.   "July  6th.   Slept at  Pepper's,
Highgate; and Friday  at Grantham; thence through Hull
to Scarborough."  Here he joined his  mother and  sister,
and  with them the following week arrived at Wilford, the
seat  of his cousin Mr. Samuel Smith.  His first care was to
recommend his new opinions by greater kindness  in domes-
tic life.   Strange rumours of his altered habits had preceded
his arrival, and his  mother  was prepared to mourn over
eccentric manners and enthusiastic  principles.   All that she
observed was greater kindness and evenness of temper. " It
may tend," he had written down before  he joined her as a
rule  for his observance,  " to remove prejudices of.... if I
am more kind and affectionate than ever,—consult  her more,
—show respect for her judgment, and manifest rather humi-
lity in myself  than dissatisfaction concerning others."  His
habitual cheerfulness, and  the patient forbearance  of a tem-
per naturally quick, could not escape  her notice; and her
friend Mrs. Sykes, who had shared in her suspicions, re-
marked shrewdly, when they parted company at Scarbo-
rough, "  If this is madness, I hope that he will bite us all."
  A  sense of his deficiency in the power of steady applica-
tion, led him to set about  educating himself.   Various and
accurate were now his studies, but the book which  he studied
most carefully, and by  which perhaps  above all others, his
mental faculties  were perfected,  was  the Holy  Scripture.
This he read and weighed and  pondered over, studying its
connexion and  details, and mastering especially, in their own
tongue, the apostolical epistles.   This was his chief occupa-
tion  at Wilford.  It was now his daily care to instruct his
understanding and discipline his heart.   Nor was  it an easy
path upon which he had set out.  Though its  later  stages
were gladdened  by  a settled  peace, at this  period almost
every entry of  his Journal records a struggle and  a conflict.
" At  church, I wander more  than  ever," he says, July 30th,
"and  can scarce keep awake—my thoughts  are  always 
 56                LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1786.

 straying.   Do thou, O  God, set my affections  on purer
 pleasures.  Christ should be a Christian's delight and glory.
 I will endeavour by God's help to excite in myself an anxiety
 and longing for the joys of heaven, and for deliverance from
 this scene of ingratitude and sin; yet, mistake not impatience
 under the fatigues of the combat for a lawful and indeed an
 enjoined earnestness for, and anticipation  of the crown of
 victory.  I say solemnly in the presence of God  this day,
 that were I to die, I know not what  would be my eternal
 portion.  If I live in some degree under the habitual impres-
 sion of God's  presence, yet I cannot, or rather I  will not,
 keep true to him; and every night I have to look back on a
 day misemployed, or not improved with fervency  and dili-
 gence.  O  God!  do thou  enable  me  to live more to thee,
 to look to Jesus with a single eye, and by degrees to have
 the renewed nature implanted in me, and the heart of stone
 removed."  And  again, a fortnight later,  he says, " I see
 plainly the  sad way in which I am going on.  Of  myself I
 have not power to change it.  Do thou, O  thou Saviour of
 sinners, have  mercy on me, and  let me not be an instance
 of one who  having month after month despised thy goodness
 and long-suffering,  has  treasured up to  himself  wrath
 against  the day of wrath.   The  sense  of God's  presence
 seldom stays on my mind when I am  in company; and at
 times I even have doubts and difficulties  about the truth of
 the great doctrines of Christianity."   Yet  in spite of diffi-
 culties,  he  was  resolved to  persevere.—" With God,"  he
reasons  with himself,  " nothing is impossible.  Work out
then thy own  salvation.   Purify  thy heart, thou double-
minded—labour to enter into that rest.  The  way is nar-
row ;  the enemies are  many, to thee  particularly; . . rich,
great, &c. . . but then we have God and Christ on our side:
 we have heavenly armour;  the  crown is  everlasting life,
and the struggle how  short, compared with  the  eternity
 which follows it!  Yet a little while, and he that shall come
 will come, and will not tarry."  While he  thus encouraged
 himself,  hoping against  hope, there were at  times alreadyon
 his path gleams of brighter light.   " On this day,"  he says,
 August 24th, " I complete my twenty-seventh year.  What
 reason have I for humiliation and gratitude!  May  God,
 for Christ's  sake, increase my desire to acquire the Christian
 temper and live the Christian life, and enable me  to carry
 this desire  info execution."   A few days later he adds, " I
 am just returned from receiving the sacrament.   I  was ena- 
1786.          LETTER TO LORD MUNCASTER.             57

bled to be earnest in prayer, and to be contrite and humble
under  a sense of my unworthiness, and  of the infinite
mercy  of God in Christ. I hope that I desire from my heart
to lead henceforth a life more worthy of the Christian pro-
fession.  May it be my meat  and drink to do  the will of
God, my  Father.  May he daily  renew me by  his Holy
Spirit,  and may I walk  before him in a frame made up of
fear, and gratitude, and humble trust, and assurance of his
fatherly kindness and  constant concern for me."
   This progress was the fruit of unremitting toil and watch-
fulness.  " My chief temptations," he  says,  " against which
to guard  this week  particularly, are,  first,—My thoughts
wandering when reading or  doing any thing.  Secondly,—
Losing sight of God  in company and at meals.   This often
begins by an affected vivacity. Thirdly,—I am apt to favour
my wandering temper by too short and  broken periods of
study.  To form my plan as carefully as  I  can to prevent
these.   Think how to serve those you are in the house with
—in the village—your constituents.  Look  to God through
Christ... How does my experience convince me that true re-
ligion  is to maintain communion with  God, and that it all
goes together.—Let this be a warning ... Contempt of this
world  in itself, and views constantly set upon the next. Fre-
quent  aspirations.   To call in at some houses in the village.
To  endeavour to keep my mind  in a calm, humble frame
—not  too much vivacity.   To put  my prayers into words
to prevent wandering.  Consider always before you take
up any book what is your  peculiar object in reading it, and
keep that in view.  Recollect all you read is then only use-
ful when applied to purify the heart and life, or to fit you for
the better discharge of its duties.   To recapitulate verbally,
discutiendi causa.   Let me try by prayer and contemplation
to excite strong desires for future heavenly joys—to trust
less to my own resolutions and more to Christ."
   These extended extracts  from his Diary exhibit a constant
growth, not  only in  the knowledge of his own  sinfulness
and weakness, but a more  continual  looking  to Christ and
trusting in Him,  both as the ground  of his hope towards
God, and the  source of his  supplies of  strength  to resist
temptation.  On his return  toward London he wrote to Lord
Muncaster, concluding as follows:—
   " O my dear Muncaster, how can we go on as if present
things were  to  last for   ever, when so  often  reminded
' that  the fashion of this world  passes  away !'   Every 
58
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1786.
day I live I see greater reason in considering  this life  but
as  a passage to another.   And  when  summoned  to  the
tribunal of God, to  give an  account of all things we have
done in  the  body,  how shall we be  confounded  by  the
recollection  of those  many instances, in which we have
relinquished a  certain  eternal for an uncertain transitory
good!   You are not insensible  to these things, but you
think of them rather like a follower of Socrates than a dis-
ciple of Jesus.   You  see how frankly I  deal with  you, in
truth I can no otherwise so well show  the interest I  take in
your happiness: these thoughts are uppermost in my heart,
and they will come forth when I  do not repress my  natural
emotions.   Oh  that  they had a more prevailing  influence
over my disposition  and conduct;  then might I hope to af-
ford men occasion ' to glorify our Father which is in heaven;'
and I should manifest the superiority of the principle which
actuated  me, by the more than ordinary spirit and activity
by which my parliamentary,  my domestic, and all  my other
duties were marked and characterized."
  He was soon after fixed  at Bath, by the advice  of Mr.
Hey; schooling his own heart as carefully  amongst  its
crowded scenes, as he had done in the domestic privacy of
Wilford.   " I am too apt," he says, Nov. 18th, " to be consi-
dering how far  I may advance towards sin, in animal indul-
gences particularly; not remembering that a Christian's life
is hid with Christ in God, that he  ought to have more satis-
faction in offering the little sacrifices God requires,  as the
willing tribute of a grateful heart, than in gratifying  fleshly
appetites; and  that  he should look for his happiness in fel-
lowship with  God, and  view with jealousy whatever tends
to break in on this communion.  I am apt to be thinking it
enough to spend so  many hours in reading, religious service,
study,  &c.  What a sad  sign is this! how different from
that delight in the law and service of God in the inner man,
which  St. Paul speaks  of, and  which was  so  eminent  in
David! O my God,  for the sake of thy  beloved  Son  our
propitiation, through  whom  we  may have access to the
throne of grace, give me a new heart—give me a real desire
and earnest longing for  one.   I have got a trick of congra-
tulating myself when  I look at my  watch, or the clock
strikes, ■ Well,  one  hour  more of this  day is gone'  What
ingratitude is this to God, who spares this cumberer of the
ground from day to  day, to give him time for repentance !"
" Walk charitably,"  he writes down as his law; "wherever 
1787.           REFORMATION OF MANNERS.              59

you are be on your guard, remembering that your conduct
and  conversation may have  some effect on  the  minds of
those with whom you are, in  rendering  them more or  less
inclined to the  reception of Christian  principles, and the
practice of a Christian life.  Be ready with subjects for con-
versation,—for private thought, as Watts and Doddridge re-
commend.—This week to find opportunities for opening to
M. B. and to endeavour to impress her deeply with a sense
of the importance of the  one thing needful, and to convince
her that the loose religion and practice of common professors
is not the religion and practice of the Bible."
   Early in the following  year he was again in London, at-
tending in his place in parliament.   But his thoughts were
principally occupied through this spring in concerting mea-
sures for a public effort at  reforming manners.   He had
been roused out of a deadly lethargy, and when  he looked
around him on the  aspect of society, he saw how universal
was the evil from which  he had himself escaped.  He could
not  wonder that the gay and busy world were almost igno-
rant of Christianity,  amidst  the lukewarmness and apathy
which possessed the  very watchmen  of the faith.  To this
high and  self-denying office God put it into the heart of his
servant to aspire.   " God," he says,  " has  set before me as
my  object the reformation of [my country's]  manners."
 Having once  accepted this  commission, he devoted all his
 powers to its  fulfilment, and for years kept it steadily in view
 in all his undertakings.  His first great effort was suggested
 by Dr. Woodward's  " History of the Society for the Refor-
 mation of Manners in the year 1692."  He proposed to form
 a similar association, to  resist the spread of open immorality.
 This had been the second object of the earlier  society, its
 first aim being the edification of its  members. " I am con-
 scious," he tells Mr.  Hey, " that ours is an infinitely inferior
 aim, yet  surely it is of the utmost consequence, and worthy
 of the labours of a whole life."  In this zealous spirit he un-
 dertook  the work.   He endeavoured to infuse amongst his
 numerous friends a determination to resist the growing vices
 of the times.   " The barbarous custom of hanging," he tells
 one of them,  " has been tried too long, and with the success
 which might have been  expected from  it.  The most  effec-
 tual way to  prevent the greater crimes is by punishing the
 smaller,  and  by endeavouring to repress that general  spirit
 of licentiousness, which is the parent of every species of vice.
  I know that  by regulating the external conduct we do not at 
60
LIFE OF "WILBERFORCE.
1787.
 first change the hearts of men, but even they are ultimately
 to be wrought upon by these means, and we should at least
 so far remove the obtrusiveness of the temptation, that it may
 not pcovoke the appetite, which might otherwise be dormant
 and inactive."
   The plan which  he adopted for this  purpose was to ob-
 tain a Royal Proclamation against vice  and immorality, and
 then suggest the formation of an association for carrying it
 into effect.
  His first object was to prevail upon the bishops to become
 members of the new  association ; and  to effect this, he re-
 solved upon applying  personally to as many  as he could,
 when they had retired to their respective sees.  He wished
 to communicate with them individually, lest the scruples of
 a few might prevent  the  acquiescence of the rest; and he
 could not issue circulars without putting himself forward as
 the avowed  author  of the  plan.   " In  your several  dis-
 closures," he tells his friend Lord Muncaster,  " the less you
 introduce my name the better.  When the several parties
 come  to compare notes hereafter, it may appear as if I had
 been unseasonably, I had almost said, impertinently active,
 and I  should grievously regret any personal jealousy which
 might operate to the prejudice of the great object which we
 have in  view."
  He  determined therefore to travel round the country to
 the residence of those whose countenance he hoped to gain;
 and upon the 21st of June, in spite of the fatigue of the last
 session, and a strong desire " to put off this whole business
 for a time, and allow myself a course of the Bath waters ...
 since it might be dangerous to suffer the impression which
the  Proclamation may have produced  to wear  away, be-
fore I am so firm  as not to fear  my  gentlemen drawing
 back," he set off from  London  without communicating to
any one the purpose of his journey.  He spared no labour
to attain his object, visiting in succession the episcopal resi-
dences of the prelates of Worcester,  Hereford, Norwich,
Lincoln, York, and Lichfield, and gaining many of the bishops
as the first promoters of his  scheme.   He called too upon
 many influential laymen.
  In his various applications he was no stranger to refusals
of co-operation.—" So  you wish, young  man," said a no-
 bleman whose house he visited, " you wish to  be a reformer
 of men's morals. Look then, and see there what is the end
 of such reformers," pointing as he spoke to a picture of the 
1787.
PROCLAMATION SOCIETY.
61
crucifixion—no likely argument to disarm a Christian war-
rior.  Yet though sometimes opposed, upon the whole  his
plans succeeded.
  The society was soon in active and useful operation.  The
Duke of Montagu opened his house  for  its reception, and
presided over its meetings,—a post which  was filled after
his  death by the late  Lord (Chancellor) Bathurst, who was
followed by Bishop  Porteus : and before its dissolution it
had obtained many valuable acts of parliament, and greatly
checked the spread of blasphemous and indecent  publications.
It afforded  also  a centre from which  many  other useful
schemes proceeded,  and was the  first example  of those va-
rious associations, which soon succeeded to the apathy of
former  years.
   By the autumn of this  year it was so well established as
no longer to  require the personal attention of its  founder.
He therefore left London, and after a short  tour in Devon-
shire fixed himself at Bath.  "I find here," writes  Hannah
More, " a great many friends ;  but those with whom I  have
chiefly  passed my time are Mr. Wilberforce's family.  That
young  gentleman's  character  is one of  the most  extraor-
dinary  I ever  knew for talents, virtue, and piety.  It is diffi-
cult not to grow wiser and  better every time one converses
 with him."                                         c
   At Bath Mr. Wilberforce was for a while removed  trom
 the full press  of  business ; and had leisure for  more serious
 contemplation, than was possible in the seasons of active
 exertion —" By God's help," he writes, " I will set vigorously
 about  reform.  I believe one cause of my having  so fallen
 short is my  having  aimed no higher.   Lord  Bacon  says,
 great changes are easier than  small ones.  Remember, thy
 situation abounding  in comforts requires thee to  be pecu-
 liarly on thy  guard, lest when thou  hast  eaten and art  full
 thou forget God."
    Though little satisfied with his parliamentary exertions,
 this year had been in one respect the very  crisis of his use-
 fulness.  In it he had been led publicly to devote himself to
 his Treat work, the  Abolition of the Slave Trade.   This was
 the fruit of his religious change;  and it is the more neces-
 sary distinctly to establish this, because there has gone  forth
 an opinion most injurious to the real spring of all his labours
 that he was led by accident to undertake this  cause.  Thus
  he  late venerable  C. Ignatius Latrobe attributed to Lady
  Middleton the honourable work of having called the appointed
                            6 
62
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1787.
 champion to the lists :  and others, besides Mr. Latrobo, have
 imagined that  the like merit was claimed  by Mr. Clarkson,
 in his " History of Abolition."
   Some extracts  from a letter which Mr.  L. wrote in 1815
 to his daughter, will furnish an interesting statement of his
 view of this matter.
   " As  I happen to know more about  that  business than
 many others, I  have sometimes been called upon  to give  my
 opinion, and, on a certain  occasion, did  it  with such  effect,
 that I was desired to commit it  to writing for the informa-
 tion of the public.—What I have heard and seen of those
 movements which ended  in the abolition of the slave trade,
 if admitted to be correct, will  be my warrant for asserting,
 that this great and momentous event  was brought about by
 the instrumentality of a woman.
  '■ When  Sir Charles Middleton (afterwards Lord Barham)
 commanded a man-of-war, he had a surgeon on board  whose
 name was  Ramsay.  Sir Charles went to the West Indies,
 where Mr. Ramsay married a lady  of St.  Kitt's.  It was
 thought  most convenient  that Mr. Ramsay  should settle in
 that island, and as he  had  an  inclination to enter into  the
 church, and a living offered, he came home, took orders, and
 became  a clergyman.   In St.  Kitt's he  saw a great deal of
 the manner of treating the negroes, and felt the greatest pity
 for them.   But  having  become  acquainted with the horrors
 of the trade, by which  they were obtained, he was still more
 shocked with the  indignities and cruelties suffered  by those
 poor creatures  on their passage from Africa to the islands,
 and with the  brutal  manner of  their being bought  and sold
 like cattle.  How long he stayed in St. Kitt's I have not here the
 means of ascertaining; but after some years he  received a
 vocation to the living  of Teston, near  Maidstone  in  Kent
 Here his diligence, usefulness, and urbanity of manners soon
 brought him into  great favour  with the family, especially as
 his mild and charitable disposition well  accorded with that
 of his patroness Mrs. Bouverie and her friend Lady Middle-
 on.-In the course of his frequent conversations, the state of
 he slaves in the West Indies, and the abominable traffic in
 human flesh and  blood, came into  discussion.  The  ladies


would not suffer the matter forest "and     w^  Imt^
urging Mr.  Ramsay to call the attention  of  the wo  nation
 to such crying sins.  To this purpose she wrote him an en" 
1787.         LADY MIDDLETON'S SUGGESTION.            63

ergetic letter, which you will find in his ' Essay on the Treat-
ment of, and Traffic in, Slaves.'   This book caused a great
sensation, and raised against Mr. Rarnsay a host of enemies.
Yet  all this which was said and written on the subject might
have passed away, and produced as little effect as the decla-
mations and  writings of many good men in England and
America, and the mental torments experienced and recorded
by Mr. Clarkson, but that God put it  into the heart of Lady
Middleton to venture one step further, and to urge the ne-
cessity of bringing the proposed Abolition of the Slave Trade
before parliament, as a measure in which the whole nation
was concerned.
  " This was done in the  most natural and simple manner
possible, at the  conclusion of some  very animated expres-
sions of her feelings on considering the national guilt attach-
ed to the  continuation of such a traffic.  Sorry I am, that I
did not mark the day when I was witness to that  remarka-
ble conversation, which took place at  breakfast, Mr. Ramsay,
if I mistake not, being present.  Lady Middleton, addressing
her  husband, who was member for Rochester, said, ' Indeed,
Sir Charles, I think you ought to bring the subject before the
House, and demand parliamentary inquiry into the nature of
a traffic so disgraceful to the British character.'  Sir Charles
granted the propriety of such an inquiry ; but observed, that
the  cause would be in bad hands if it was committed to him,
 who had  never yet made one speech in the  House; but he
 added, that he should strenuously support any able member
 who would undertake it.
   " This  led to an interchange of opinions,  respecting  the
 willingness and fitness of several members who were named
 to brave  the storm, and defend the cause of humanity; when
 some one mentioned  Mr. Wilberforce, who had lately come
 out, and  not only displayed very superior talents and great
 eloquence, but was a decided and powerful  advocate of the
 cause of truth and virtue, and  a friend of the minister.  He
 was then at Hull, and  Lady  Middleton prevailed on Sir
 Charles immediately to write to him, and propose the sub-
 ject He  did so, and communicated the letter he had written
 to the family, as well as Mr. Wilberforce's answer which he
 received a few  days after, both of which I heard with these
 mine ears.   Mr. Wilberforce  wrote to the following effect;
 • That he felt the great importance of the subject, and thought
 himself unequal to the task allotted to him, but yet would
 not positively decline it; adding, that on his return to town 
64
LIFE  OF  WILBERFORCE.
1787.
 he would pay a visit to the  family at  Teston,  and consult
 with Sir Charles and Lady Middleton, &c. on the subject.'
   " After Mr. Wilberforce's return from Yorkshire he visit-
 ed the family  at Teston, as proposed;  and as he  endea-
 voured to make  himself  master of the  subject,  and from
 every accessible quarter to obtain  information,  Sir Charles
 sent  him to me,  to learn  what had been effected by  our
 missionaries among the slaves,  in  the  different West India
 islands;  and I  furnished him with every  species  of intelli-
 gence in my power.
   " My purpose was to show that the abolition of the slave
 trade was, under  God, and when  the  time  was come,  the
 work of  a  woman,  even  Lady Middleton,  who  was  the
 honoured instrument of bringing the  monster within  the
 range of the artillery of the executive justice of the kingdom,
 and selecting and rousing that noble champion, who  so
 firmly stood his ground, and persevering from year to year,
 at last saw his labours crowned with success.  Many pre-
 paratory steps had been taken by that excellent man, Gran-
 ville Sharpe, and others; and I  believe  Mr. Clarkson, when
 he says that there arose in  many places a spirit of general
 inquiry,  without  any previous  communications,  as  to  the
 nature of that horrible traffic."
   Of Lady Middleton's application Mr. Wilberforce has said,
 " It was  just one of those many impulses which  were  all
 giving to  my mind the same direction."  Nor was  it an  un-
 natural mistake by which those  who had not known his pre-
 vious training attributed his after-conduct, according to their
 own  bias, either  to Lady Middleton  in  1786, or to  Mr.
 Clarkson in  1787.   But the real cause of his engaging in
 the work lay far deeper than any such suggestions.  It was
 the immediate consequence of his  altered  character.  The
 miseries of Africa had long ago attracted his attention.  Even
 in his boyhood he had written  on the  subject for  the daily
journals—" It  is," he has  said in conversation,  " somewhat
 worthy of attention  as indicative of  the providential  im-
 pulses by which we are led into particular lines of  conduct,
 that as early as the year 1780 I  had been strongly interested'
 for the West Indian slaves, and in a letter  asking my  friend
Gordon, then going to Antigua, to collect information for me,
I expressed my determination, or at least my hope, that some
time or other I should redress the wrongs of those wretched
and degraded beings."
  Nor was Mr.  Wilberforce at this  time wanting in  many 
1787.
EFFECT OF HIS NEW PRINCIPLES.
65
high qualifications for the conduct of the cause.  His glow-
ing and  persuasive eloquence,  his  high political influence
rarely combined with independence, marked him out as fitted
to achieve that deliverance  for  the  oppressed for which  his
generous mind would naturally long.  Yet at  this time he
wanted that one requisite without which all the  rest would
have proved insufficient.  The statue, indeed, was framed
with exquisite symmetry, but. the ethereal fire was wanting.
Personal  ambition and  generous  impulses  would  have
shrunk  from the  greatness  of the  undertaking, or grown
wearied in the  protracted  struggle, and  these  hitherto  had
been the main  springs of his conduct.   " The  first  years
that I was  in  parliament," he has said, " I did nothing—no-
thing I mean to  any good purpose ; my own  distinction
was my darling object."  But now he  acted upon a new  set
of principles;  his powers of mind, his eloquence in speech,
his influence with Mr. Pitt, his general popularity, were now
all as talents lent  to him by God, and for their due improve-
ment he must  render  an account.   Now, therefore, all  his
previous interest in the condition of the  West Indian  slaves
led to practical exertion.  " God,"  he  says, in undertaking
what became at once a sacred charge—" God Almighty has
set before  me two great  objects,  the  suppression  of the
slave trade and the reformation of  manners."  In this spirit
he approached the strife, and let it never be forgotten, that
it was the fear of God which armed him as the champion of
the liberty of man. That it was by this general acquaint-
ance with West Indian matters, and not  from any accidental
summons, that he was led to turn  his attention to the slave
trade, he has himself recorded.  " It was the condition of
the West Indian slaves which first drew my attention, and it
was in the course of my inquiry that I was led to Africa and
the abolition."  These  inquiries  he  was busily pursuing
amongst the African merchants throughout  the  year 1786.
" I found them," he says, " at  this time ready to give  me
information  freely, the trade not having yet become the sub-
ject of alarming discussion, but their accounts were full of
prejudice and error.   I got also together at my house from
time to time persons who knew any thing about the matter."
   Yet it was not  with inconsiderate haste that he undertook
the cause.  " When I had acquired," he says, " so much infor-
mation, I began to talkthe matterover with Pitt and Grenville.
Pitt recommended me to undertake its conduct, as a subject
suited to my character and talents.  At length, I well remem-
                           6* 
66
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1787.
ber, after a conversation in the open air at the root of an old
tree at Holwood just  above the steep descent into the vale
of Keston, I resolved  to give notice on a fit occasion in the
House of Commons  of my  intention  to bring the  subject
forward."  In the spring of 1787, Mr. Clarkson, who had
published a Prize Essay upon the subject in the preceding
year,  was in London,  and  was introduced to  Mr.  Wilber-
force ; but though they frequently conversed  upon the  sub-
ject, Mr. Wilberforce never divulged his own  determination,
until at Mr. Bennet Langton's table in answer to a question
from his host he avowed it publicly.
  Several humane men had  been for months communicating
privately upon  the subject,  and they now at once deter-
mined upon immediate action, and formed themselves  into
a committee to raise  the funds  and collect the  information
necessary for  procuring the abolition of the trade.   Their
first meeting  was held upon the  22d of May, 1787, when
Granville Sharpe was elected chairman of the twelve  who
met together, most of whom were  London merchants,  and
all but two Quakers.   This  body soon increased and grew
into a valuable ally of Mr.  Wilberforce.  By  their means
many  useful publications  were circulated,  and a general
knowledge of the horrors of  the trade extensively diffused ;
as their agent, Mr. Clarkson sought patiently  for evidence in
Liverpool and Bristol; they raised contributions to defray
the general  expenses of the cause, and became a  central
body,  from  which emanated many similar societies in the
chief provincial  towns.  " At  this place," writes a corre-
spondent from  Manchester,  " large subscriptions have been
raised for the slave business, and  ' te  duce Teucro'  we are
warm  and  strenuous."  Their  great  work,  and  that in
which this year  they  actively  engaged, was to rouse the
slumbering indignation of the country against the  cruelty
and bloodshed of the  traffic.   And here was seen  at  once
the exceeding importance of  their leader's  character   In
the year 1780, the slave trade had attracted  Mr.  Burke's
attention, and he had  even proceeded to sketch out a code
of regulations which  provided for  its  immediate mitigation
and ultimate  suppression.   But after  mature consideration
he had abandoned the attempt, from the conviction that the
strength of the West Indian body would defeat the utmost
efforts of his powerful party, and cover them with  ruinous
unpopularity.  Nor could any mere political alliance  have
been ever more likely to succeed.   The great interests  with 
1788.
SLAVE TRADE.
67
which the battle must be fought could  be resisted only by
the general  moral feeling of the nation.  There was then
no example upon  record of any such achievement, and in
entering upon the struggle it was of the utmost moment that
its leader  should  be  one who could combine, and so render
irresistible, the scattered sympathies of the religious classes.
Granville  Sharpe,  the chairman of the London  committee,
did not fail to point out this  advantage.   " Mr. W." he
writes, " is to introduce the  business  to the House.   The
respectability of  his  position as  member for the largest
county, the  great influence of  his  personal connexions,
added  to  an amiable and  unblemished character, secure
every advantage to the cause."   Its first  supporters accord-
ingly were not found amongst the partisans of political com-
motion, but amongst  the educated and  religious.  "Many
of the clergy," writes Granville Sharpe, " are firm and cor-
dial friends to the  undertaking:" and soon after  he rejoices
" in their continual support."  If any  thing were wanted to
complete thiis proof, it would be found  in the grievous injury
the cause  sustained in later years from the character of its
chief political supporters.
  The day of the  promised  motion was  now approaching;
but though  his zealous  partisans  throughout the country,
who had formed themselves into local  associations in almost
all the great provincial  towns, and had sent already above
thirty petitions to the House of Commons, were anxious for
immediate action, it became evident to the leader in the con-
test, that he could succeed only by more  cautious tactics.
   Symptoms of determined  opposition were  beginning to
appear.   The trade had struck its roots too deeply amongst
the commercial interests of the country to fall  before a single
blow.  In spite too of Mr. Pitt's support,  the administration,
as a body, were not  in favour of the cause.
  To meet  such  an  opposition as was  now threatened, it
was  absolutely  necessary to  possess a great body of distinct
facts, upon which to  ground the first attack upon the trade.
To procure this evidence Mr. Pitt consented to issue a sum-
mons to the Privy Council, to examine as a  board of trade
the state  of our  commercial  intercourse with Africa.  " I
have been blamed," says Mr.  Wilberforce, " for this deci-
sion  ; as if I had suffered the first favourable feelings to our
cause,  which existed in the country, to die away, and given
time for  self-interest  to exert its powers.  But  it must be
borne in mind, that though I might have carried a general 
68
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1788.
resolution which condemned the slave trade, abolition could
be  obtained  only by an  act of parliament.   Now the slow
and cautious policy of our legislative system gives the op-
ponent of every measure nine or ten, and, in  the case of a
warm and dexterous partisan, many more stations for draw-
ing up his troops and resisting its advance.  Of these op-
portunities our  opponents would have  availed themselves;
and the  inquiry into  this complicated subject would have
been just as long, however we had met the petitions of the
West India body."
  The first witnesses who were heard by the Privy Council
were those whom the African merchants had  deputed.  They
undertook to establish not only the necessity, but the abso-
lute humanity of the trade.  Meanwhile, at Mr. Wilberforce's
suggestion, the  friends of Abolition prepared  their evidence
and marshalled  their witnesses.  In producing these, it had
been  previously determined  that  the London  committee
should alone appear, whilst the leaders of the cause  should
direct their movements for awhile unseen.
  At  this important moment,  it seemed but  too probable
that Mr.  Wilberforce would be withdrawn for ever from the
conduct of the cause.   It was in spite of the hinderances of
a delicate constitution that all his labours were performed ;
but in the course of this spring his health appeared entirely
to fail, from an absolute decay  of the digestive organs.   On
the  last day of January  he says in his  Diary, after many
previous  records of indifferent health,—" Very unwell, so
did  not dine at Pitt's, but met  Ramsay there in the evening
and discussed—did  not go to House.   Feb. 1st.  Still  in-
different—did not go to the House."   This attack passed off
after a few days, and  he renewed his attendance  in  the
House, and discharged his ordinary amount of labour.  But
within three weeks his illness returned.
  His disorder had now assumed the character of an entire
decay of all the vital functions.  " There is Wilberforce,"
said one  college friend  directing the attention  of another
to his wasted  frame,  "  he cannot  last for  three  weeks."
A consultation  of  the chief physicians  of the day,  ended
in the declaration to his family, " That he had not stamina
to last a fortnight."   Judging the case to be beyond the
skill of the masters of human art, they decently dismissed
their patient on  a journey to the Bath waters.   He complied
with their desire, but soberly forecasting the doubtful issue of
his  sickness, he first summoned Mr.  Pitt, and obtained from 
1788.        RESOLUTION AGAINST SLAVE TRADE.           69

him  a  promise that he  would charge himself with  the  in-
terests of the Abolition cause.  Satisfied with this pledge he
set out for  Bath, which he reached upon the 5th of April in
a  state of  extreme weakness  and  exhaustion.  " Behold
me," he wrote from Bath to Mr.  Wyvill, " a banished man
from London and business.   It is no more than I can expect if
my constituents vote my seat  abdicated, and  proceed  to
the election of another representative: however I  trust I
shall yet be enabled by God's blessing to do the public and
them some service.  As  to the slave question, I do not like
to touch on it, it is so big a one it frightens me in my present
weak state.  Suffice it to say, and I know the pleasure it will
afford you  to hear it, that I trust matters are in a very good
train.   To  you in strict confidence I will intrust, that Pitt,
with a  warmth of principle and friendship that have made
me love him better than I ever did before, has taken  on him-
self the management of the business, and promises to do all
for me if I desire it, that, if I were an efficient man, it would
be proper for me to do  myself.  This is all I can now say ;
I might add more were we side by side on my sofa."
   Upon  this promise Mr. Pitt, at once acted so far as  to
superintend,  with the  help of Bishop  Porteus, the Privy
Council inquiries  which were now in progress.  Meanwhile
the  session of parliament was advancing, and the country
adherents of the  Abolition, who had sent no  less than one
hundred petitions to the House of Commons, began to grow
impatient of delay.  Some of them even wrote to  suggest
the propriety of immediate action under another leader. The
London  committee endeavoured to restrain their eagerness
by suggesting to them the loss which the cause must sustain
from any alteration in  its conduct;  and distinctly declared
that " if Mr.  Wilberforce  was at  last unable to  resume
his post they should leave to him  the selection of his substi-
tute."  At  the same time (April   11th) they wrote to Mr.
Wilberforce for his directions as  to their conduct " in this
emergency."  This communication  followed him to Bath,
and reached him when reduced to such a state that he could
not  read any letter upon business.  His friends therefore
judging for him that the proper time was come,  wrote in his
name to Mr. Pitt, and  committed the cause into his hands.
Upon this summons Mr. Pitt immediately  acted. Upon the
22d of April,  Mr. Granville Sharpe reported to the commit-
tee that he had been sent for by the minister, and  officially
informed of the pledge  which he  had given  to his friend. 
70
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1788.
 Upon the 9th of xMay accordingly Mr. Pitt  moved a resolu-
 tion binding the House to consider the circumstances of the
 slave trade early in  the following  session.   In  spite of his
 endeavours to prevent an unseasonable discussion, Mr. Pitt's
 resolution gave  rise to a very warm debate; and  the  ex-
 pressed opinion of the House seemed strongly in support of
 Abolition.  Mr. Burke was its declared advocate; Mr.  Fox
 had  "almost made up his  mind to immediate abolition."
 Twelve members avowed themselves its earnest supporters;
 and the representatives of slave-trading Liverpool were alone
 found bold enough to intimate dissent; yet even then were
 heard whispers of that commercial ruin which was  soon
 afterwards predicted in so confident a tone.   The danger of
 such  discussions was prophetically announced, and " Mr.
 Wilberforce for negro" affirmed to  be already in the island
 of Grenada the seoret watch-word of servile insurrection.
 All the friends of  Abolition  were warm in their  expressions
 of sympathy in Mr.  Wilberforce's illness, and in  lamentation
 for his  absence.  "It is  better," said Mr.  Fox, "that  the
 cause should  be  in  his hands than in  mine;  from  him I
 honestly believe that it will come with more weight, more
 authority, and more  probability of success."   But  though
 the general question was postponed, yet an  important  mea-
 sure of practical relief was carried during this  session.
 " Some  of our principal supporters," says Mr. Wilberforce,
 " one of whom was the venerable  Sir W. Dolben, were led
 by curiosity to inspect with their own eyes the actual  state
of a  slave ship then fitting out in the river  Thames.   This
 was  when the spring was so far advanced that  the inquiry
and discussion had been put off by  mutual consent until  the
following year.   But Sir W. Dolben and his friends came
 back to the House  of Commons with a  description  which
 produced one universal feeling of pity, shame, and indio-na-
 tion.  In particular,  they found,  in  spite  of the confidence
 with which it had been maintained, that  self-interest alone
 would suffice for securing kind treatment to these wretched
victims  of avarice, that they were  crowded into a space so
 miserably small, as exceedingly to aggravate their suffering*
 and cause, from the spread of infectious  sickness a  prodi-
 gious mortality.   At once it was resolved, that such enormi-
 ties should not exist  unchecked even for another  session,
 and a bill, limiting the number of slaves and providing some
 precautions against their sufferings, was proposed and car-
 ried  by  a large majority." 
1788.
MIDDLE PASSAGE BILL.
71
  Sir William Dolben's Bill was introduced upon the 1st of
May.  The slave merchants opposed  it fiercely.  The dele-
gates of Liverpool were  heard  against  its regulations by
counsel at the bar of the House.   Though within a few years
they were compelled to grant that this sacrifice to humanity
had actually increased their profits, they now produced wit-
nesses to prove that the limitations of the  Bill (one slave to
each ton of the vessel's burden) would totally suppress the
trade.   After practising every manoeuvre  known in House
of Commons tactics, and endeavouring vainly for their pre-
sent purpose to raise the cry of vested interests and com-
mercial injury, they were defeated by a large majority, and
on the 10th of June the  Bill was carried  to the  House  of
Lords.   There  it  met  with more  threatening opposition.
The Lord Chancellor Thurlow  exhausted in assailing it all
that fertility in objections which marked his rugged charac-
ter, and the honoured name of Rodney may be found  amongst
its  most vehement  opposers.  It  passed  the  Upper House
by  a decided though  reduced  majority, and  received the
royal assent upon the 11th of July.
  The whole course of this contest Mr. Wilberforce watched
patiently at a distance.  Beyond all calculation he was visi-
bly gaining strength at Bath.  His returning  health was in
great measure the effect of a proper use of opium, a remedy
to which even Dr. Pitcairne's judgment could scarcely make
him have recourse ; yet it was to this medicine that he now
owed his life, as well as the comparative vigour of  his later
years.  So sparing was  he  always in its use, that as a sti-
mulant he never knew its power, and as a remedy for  his
specific weakness he had not to increase its quantity during
the last twenty years he lived.  " If I take," he would often
say, " but a single glass of wine,  I can feel its effect, but  I
never  know  when  I have taken my dose of opium by my
feelings."   Its intermission was  too  soon perceived  by the
recurrence of disorder.
  On  the 5th  of May he left Bath  upon his road to Cam-
bridge, performing  the journey leisurely, sometimes upon
horseback  and  sometimes  in  his carriage with  his own
horses.
   Upon the  8th of May he reached Cambridge, and after
dining with  Isaac Milner proceeded to St. John's Coll., where
he was hospitably received by Dr. Chevalier at the  Lodge.
   Though during  this  return to academic life,  he expe-
rienced much gratification from the company of Milner, and 
72
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1788.
 some few others amongst his ordinary companions, yet his
 judgment of the general tone of the society he met with in
 his college, marks  the  improved  standard  of intellect and
 morals which was  now before his mind.  " They were not
 what I had  expected, they had neither the solidity of judg-
 ment possessed by ordinary men  of  business, nor the re-
 fined feelings and elevated principles which become a studi-
 ous and sequestered life."  Of himself he complains, " 1 am
 too easily contented with a  general impression of religion,
 and do not labour to perfect  faith  by habituating myself to
 act upon a principle of love.   I scarcely dare resolve, after
 so many defeats; but I trust I shall do better, relying en-
 tirely for success upon the   assistance of that Holy Spirit
 which  we are promised."
  Leaving Cambridge he set  out  for Westmoreland, calling
 upon the road for his mother  and  sister.
  One of his objects in this visit to the lakes,  was to make
 Mr. Pitt acquainted with  his favourite scenes.  " Pitt," he
 says, " promises to  steal down to  me for a few days."
  But  though  disappointed  of this visit,  his house  was
 thronged, the whole summer  through,  with a succession of
 guests.
  This  constant stream  of  company  continued  until his
 leaving Westmoreland, about the  middle  of September.
 Though diverted by its interruptions from  severer studies,
 he turned the intercourse of social life into occasions of in-
 tellectual profit.  Yet upon the whole, his plans of study and
 retirement were materially disturbed.
  " The life  I  am  now leading," he enters in  his private
 Journal at the end of July, " is unfavourable in all respects,
 both to  mind  and body, as little suitable to me considered as
 an invalid, under all the peculiar circumstances of my situa-
 tion, as it is  becoming my character and  profession  as a
Christian.  Indolence  and intemperance are its capital  fea-
 tures.   It is true, the incessant intrusion of fresh  visiters,
and the constant temptations to which I am liable, from being
always in company, render it extremely difficult to adhere
to any plan of study, or any  resolutions of abstemiousness,
 which last two it is  the harder for me  to  observe,  because
my health requires  throughout an indulgent regimen.  No-
thing however can excuse  or  palliate such conduct, and with
the sincerest conviction of its guilt, I pray to  that gracious
God whose ways are not as our ways,  to have mercy upon
me, to  turn the current of my affections, to impress  my 
1788.
LIFE AT RAYRIGG.
73
mind with an awful and abiding sense of that eternity which
awaits me, and finally to guide my feet into the way of peace.
And though I have so often resolved and broken my resolu-
tions, that I am almost ready to acquiesce in the  headlong
course which I am following; yet as thus to acquiesce would
be  to  consign myself to irreversible misery, I  must  still
strive to loose myself from this bondage of sin and Satan,
calling on the name of the Lord, who alone can make my
endeavours effectual.
  " I am this week entering on a scene of great temptations
—a perpetual round of dissipation and my house  overflow-
ing with guests ;  it is the more necessary for me to live by
the  faith of the Son of God.  Do thou then,  thou blessed
Saviour and Friend of  sinners, hear and have  mercy on
me.  Let thy  strength be magnified in my weakness.   But
whatever be the issue of this residence at Rayrigg, may it
be  a useful lesson to  teach  me to form my  plans  hereafter
with greater  caution  and circumspection, and not to run
myself into temptations, from the evil of which he who vo-
luntarily exposes himself to them cannot reasonably expect
to be delivered.
   " I  will  now form and note in my pocket-book such  reso-
 lutions for this week's regulation, as are best adapted to my
 present circumstances;  and do thou, O God, enable me to
 keep them.  My general object, during my stay at this place,
 should be to guard against habits of idleness, luxury, selfish-
 ness,  and  forgetfulness of God, by interlacing as much as I
 can of reading, and meditation, and religious retirement, and
 self-examination.   Let me constantly view myself in all my
 various relations
     as one who professes to be a Christian,
     as a member of parliament,
     as gifted by nature and fortune, as a son, brother, pater-
        familias, friend, with influence and powerful connex-
        ions.
    " 1. To be for the ensuing week moderate at table.      ^
    " 2. Hours as early as can contrive. Redeeming the time.
    As he was  not  now  contented with empty resolutions ot
 amendment,  he determined  upon having  more  command
 over  the  disposal of his time, by giving up this favourite
 residence.  " Milner and I had much talk about this being a
 most improper place for me, and resolved upon not continu-
 ing the house."                    ^t       .          ,
    » This   place,"  he  wrote to Mr.  Newton, just before he
                            7 
74
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1789.
quitted Westmoreland, " wherein I looked this summer for
much solitude and quiet, has proved very different from re-
tirement.  The tour to the lakes has become so fashionable,
that the banks of the Thames are scarcely more public than
those of Windermere.   You  little knew  what you were
doing when you  wished yourself with me in Westmoreland.
My experience will not, I hope, be wasted on me, and I shall
lay my plans  in future  with  more  foresight and circum-
spection. At this  moment my cottage overflows with guests."
He gave up the house, when  his  lease determined, in the
following spring.
   After paying Hull a short visit,  and spending  a day at
Buckden, he set off for Bath.  " Arrived late at Burford,
where I spent  the Sunday, Oct. 5 ; sermon on the nature of
angels, a most unprofitable discourse.  A Sunday spent in
solitude spreads  and extends its fragrance; may I long find
the good effects of this."  There had been a time when to
be thrown thus upon his  own  resources had been a severe
trial to his spirits.   " I scarce  ever felt," he has said, " such
wretchedness as during four days which I spent by myself
before my reader joined  me at Rayrigg, in 1784.   My eyes
were so bad that I could not read ; the rain would not let
me leave the house, and I had not a creature with whom to
converse ; I stood resting my forehead on the chimney-piece
in a state of weariness not to be described."  But now he
had  learned to " commune with his own heart  and to be
still;" he had drunk into that " free spirit" by which alone
such self converse can be happily maintained.
   He was not able to continue long at Bath.  " I have for
some time deferred," writes Mr. Wyvill, " mentioning to you
the intended jubilee at York  upon  the 5th  of November.
But it is now so  near, that I can no longer delay to commu-
nicate my opinion that your appearance at so great a meet-
ing of your friends as will then be held at York is absolutely
necessary, so that nothing short of inability to move with-
out endangering your health ought to prevent it.
   " Your absence from this meeting would be  peculiarly
prejudicial, because many would be  apt  to  consider it  a
proof of excessive scrupulosity.   On this topic your antago-
nists have not been wanting in their endeavours to hurt you;
but if you embrace this opportunity of meeting your consti-
tuents,  and  show them  you are exactly the  same person
whose cause they lately espoused with  so much zeal, these 
1789.
JUBILEE AT YORK.
75
hostile attempts will be unsuccessful.  It is surely possible
to mix in such assemblies with innocence and decency."
   " Were I to attempt," he answers, " to show my constitu-
ents this, it would be an attempt to impose upon them, which
nothing should induce me to practise, and  which I am  sure
you would be the last man in the world to recommend. Ex-
cept in the  personal  regard and gratitude  to my friends,
which were then so strong that I dare not say they are in-
creased, I cannot, (I speak to  you what addressed to another
would be arrogant, but what in speaking to you it would be
worse than affectation  to withhold,) I cannot say that I am by
any means the same person.  I can assert with truth that I
have a higher sense of the duties of my station, and a firmer
resolution to  discharge them with fidelity and zeal;  but it is
also true that I am under many restraints as to my conduct
to which I was not then subject, and that my religious opi-
nions are very different.  Not that I would shut myself up
from mankind and immure myself in a cloister.   My walk I
am sensible is a  public one; my business is  in  the world;
and I must mix in assemblies of men, or quit  the post which
Providence seems to  have assigned me.  I entirely agree
with you, «one may mix in  these  assemblies with  decency
and innocence.'  But  the point is,  whether by confining my-
self within these limits I should  be likely to advance  my
interests with my constituents.  They certainly, I trust, will
not  believe that I am so over-rigid as to condemn the cheer-
fulness of the social board, when  kept within the bounds of
sobriety and decency, however diligently my enemies may
circulate reports to my disadvantage ; but this would not be
enough to remove the impression  in question, if it were act-
ing  honestly  to endeavour to remove it.   No ! for this pur-
pose would it not be requisite for me to drink, and sing, &c.
as I used to do 1  You being a clergyman cannot draw  any
inferences from your own case to mine; nothing of the sort
I object to is expected from  you."
   He deemed it  however right to  obey the summons. " 27th
of October.    Left Bath for  London on my way to York to
attend the jubilee—Whilst at Bath grew much better."
   To one whose past habits and present occupation were of
a desultory character, few  things would be more useful, or
more difficult, than to note down accurately the mode in which
his  time was spent.   Such  an account he now commenced,
and continued resolutely until his  studious habits were ma- 
76                LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1789.
 tured ; and if in after life he perceived any relaxation in his
 diligence he immediately resumed the practice.
   To " live by  rule,"  was his object;  nor was  it only over
 the employment of his time that he diligently  watched.  To
 those who knew the clear serenity of  his  later life, it may
 be matter of surprise to hear that  his sky was ever overcast
 by storms.    It  is  a most encouraging  reflection  that this
 peace was the result of previous  contests.  For though at
 this time most strictly temperate, and inclined in the judgment
 of his fellows  to abstemiousness rather than excess, he was
 himself sensible  of many struggles before his  body was
 brought under that " sober government" which  renders  it
 the meetest instrument of the renewed spirit.   He was not
 labouring to reduce intemperate habits  within the limits of
 that self-indulgent propriety which contents the generality
 of men.   From  this point he started, but aiming at a higher
 standard, he sought to live a life of mortification in the midst
 of luxury.  It was his object to gain such control  over his
 lower nature,  that it should  never impede  his usefulness in
 social intercourse, or clog the  freedom of his communings
 with God.  His  Diary affords many instances  of these con-
 tentions with  himself,  upon which he  entered not without
 some indignation at discovering  their  necessity.—" Surely
 these are  not  little things, health  depends upon  them, and
 duty on  health."—" They are not  little things if my health
 and power of serving God be a great one."   Perceiving that
 his difficulties  arose from carelessness as  much as self-indul-
 gence, he sought to  counteract it  by laying down a set of
 rules too minutely practical to bear insertion here, while not
 content with recording against himself every infraction  of
 these severe regulations, he had  recourse to another expe-
 dient to keep his vigilance  awake.—" M.  and I made an
 agreement to pay a guinea forfeit  when we broke our rules
 and not to tell  particulars to each other.  I hope this will be
 an instrument  under divine grace  to keep me  from excess
 When once a settled habit is formed  less  rigid  rules will be
necessary."—" Exceeded, and determined to pay forfeit —
 Went on rather better, yet by no means up to  the strictness
of my plan."—" Nothing is to be resisted  more than the dis-
position which  we feel when we have been long striving un-
successfully for any particular grace or against any habitual
inhrmity, to acquiesce in our low measure of that grace, or
m the presence of that infirmity, so as not to feel shame, hu-
mihation,  and  compunction.  We  are  not to  cast  off the 
1789.
LOVE FOR THE SABBATH.
77
hope of getting better of the one and attaining to the other.
This is the very state in which we are to work out our own
salvation with fear and trembling.  The promise is sure in
the end.  Therefore  though it  tarry  wait for  it;  it  will
surely come, it will not tarry."   With these resolutions and
in this frame of mind he entered upon the year 1789.
  Many entries are scattered through a long series of years,
indicating his love for the Sabbath.
  "25th, Sunday. Heard Mr. Wood—with  Eliot.   Blessed
be God, who hath appointed these solemn returns of the day
of rest to  remind us of those  most important  realities, of
which we grow forgetful  amidst the hurry of business and
the vanities of the world."
   And on another occasion  he enters on his Diary, " Refused
to go to Holwood  (the residence of Pitt) that I might have
Sunday quiet."  " Often in my visits to Holwood,  (he has
said in conversation,) when I heard one or another speak of
this man's place, or that man's  peerage, I felt a rising  incli-
nation to pursue the same objects: but a Sunday in solitude
never failed to restore me to myself."
   Mr. Wilberforce's  time  was  now  continually occupied.
"Feb. 3d, Tuesday.  Morning  Dr. Glasse and sub-commit-
tee (of Reformation of Manners Society) to breakfast—then
all  went  to Montagu house,  where a full meeting—did
business—calls. Wednesday. Indifferent.   Ramsay came to
breakfast, and with me all  morning.   Dined Bishop of Lin-
coln's.  Pitt's business.   Thursday. Wood breakfasted with
me—on business.  Then Magdalen admission day.   Dined
at  Mrs.  Montagu's.  How humiliating  it is to  attend  the
Magdalen!   Sunday. Eliot and Henry Thornton.   Lock-
Scott excellent  on St. James v. 7, 8.  Much  affected with
the discourse.  Oh, blessed be God who hath appointed  the
Sabbath, and interposes these seasons of serious recollection.
May they be effectual to their  purpose; may my errors be
corrected, my desires sanctified,  and my whole  soul quick-
ened  and animated in the Christian course.   The last week
has been spent little, if at all, better than the preceding; but
I trust God will enable me to turn to Him in righteousness.
Write, I beseech thee, thy  law  in my heart, that I may not
sin against  thee.  I often waste my precious hours for want
of  having  settled  beforehand  to what  studies to betake
myself, what books to read.  Let me attend to  this for the
time to come, and may my slave business, and  my society
business, be duly attended to." 
78
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1789.
  "March 1st.  Sunday. Eliot breakfasted and Lock—Scott.
Called  Lord Chatham's about politics (a work of real ne-
cessity).  Strongly and deeply affected  by  an  examination
of myself, I would hope to good  purpose, and resolved to
change my habits of life.   This perpetual hurry of business
and company ruins me in soul if not in body.   I must make
a thorough reform.  More solitude and  earlier hours—dili-
gence—proper distribution and husbandry of time—associa-
ting with religious friends ; this will  strengthen my weakness
by the blessing  of God." " On an impartial examination of
my state, 1 see  that the world is my snare; business and
company distract  my mind, and  dissipate those  serious
reflections which alone can preserve us from infection in
such a situation of life as mine, where these antidotes are
ever wanted to  prevent  our falling victims to this  moral
contagion.  My error  hitherto has been,  I think, endeavour-
ing to amend this and  the other failing, instead of striking at
the root of the evil.  Let me therefore make a spirited effort,
not trusting in myself,  but in the strength of the Lord God.
Let me labour to live a life of faith, and prayer, and humility,
and self-denial,  and heavenly-mindedness, and sobriety, and
diligence.  Let  me labour this week in  particular, and lay
down for myself a course of conduct.  Yet let not this be
mainly on my mind, but the fear  and love of my Maker and
Redeemer.   Oh that the blessed day may come, when in the
words of St.  Paul, I may assert of myself that my conversa-
tion is in heaven; that the life I now lead in the flesh, I live
by faith in the Son of  God, who loved me and  gave  himself
for me!" " I  trust I can say in  the presence of God that  I
do right in going into  company, keeping  up my connexions,
&c.  Yet as it is clear from a thorough examination of my-
self that I require more solitude than  I have had of  late, let
me henceforth enter upon a new system  throughout.  Rules
—As much  solitude and  sequestration  as are  compatible
with duty.  Early hours night and  morning. Abstinence as
far as  health will  permit.  Regulation of employments for
particular times.  Prayer  three  times  a day  at least, and
begin with serious reading  or contemplation.  Self-denial in
little things.  Slave trade my main business now."
  Preparation for the approaching debate upon the slave
trade now occupied his thoughts.   And  he  not only retired
for this  season  to seek in the country the leisure which he
could not find  in town, but introduced also into the details
of social life a system of rigorous  self-government, that  no 
1789.          SPEECH ON THE SLAVE TRADE.             79

temptations to indulgence might  relax his diligence or tar-
nish the brightness of his spirit.  " For the next fortnight,"
he enters on the 6th of April,  " to prepare for Slave discus-
sion.   Moderation in all things."
  At length on the 12th of May the question came before the
House.  "Monday, May  11th," says his Diary, " went to
Montagu's  with  Burgh;  where also Ramsay and  John
Clarkson.   Tuesday very indifferent.  Came to town,  sadly
unfit for work, but by Divine grace  was enabled  to  make
my motion so as to give satisfaction—three hours and  a half
—I had not prepared my language, or  even  gone over all
my matter, but being well acquainted with the whole subject
I got on.  My breast sore, but de ceteris pretty well.  How
ought I to labour, if it pleases God to make me able to im-
press people with a persuasion that I am serious, and  to in-
cline them  to agree with me!"
  The  speech  with which  he opened  the debate argued
forcibly the whole question.   After attempting to disarm the
peculiar hostility of West Indian opposition  by describing
the trade as a national iniquity, he surveyed  the various
evidence of conflicting testimony, and traced the destructive
effects of the trade on  Africa, its victims, and the colonies.
These arguments were invested throughout with the glow of
genuine humanity, and enforced by the power of a singular
eloquence.   Although the principal record of its excellence
must be found in its effect upon that audience of orators to
whom it was addressed ;  yet  there are portions which even
in the barrenness  of extracts from " a most inaccurate  Re-
port" retain much of their original beauty.  Knowing "that
mankind are  governed by their  sympathies," he addressed
himself to  the feelings  as  well as the reason of the House;
and we can  even yet perceive the vigour  of description
which  records  the  sufferings of the middle passage,  " so
much misery crowded  into so little room, where the aggre-
gate of suffering must  be multiplied by every individual tale
of wo ;" and the force of that appeal which, after disproving
the  alleged comforts  of  the  miserable  victims, summoned
 Death as his " last  witness,  whose infallible  testimony to
 their unutterable wrongs can neither be purchased nor re-
 pelled."
   The effect  of this speech both upon  his friends and their
 opponents, also warrants the declaration of Mr.  Burke, when
 warmed by its present  influence, " that  the House, the na-
 tion, and Europe, were under great and serious obligations 
80
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1789.
  to the honourable gentleman for having brought forward the
  subject in a manner the most masterly, impressive, and elo-
  quent.  " The principles," he said, " were so well laid down,
  and supported with so much force and order, that it equalled
  any thing he had heard  in modern times, and was not per-
  haps to be surpassed in the remains of Grecian eloquence."
   Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox were no less loud in their eulogies;
  and the following character of the speech from a witness of
  a different order, is an interesting testimony  to its effect.
  Bishop  Porteus writes on the 13th of May to  the Rev. W.
  Mason,—" It is with  heartfelt  satisfaction I acquaint you
  that Mr. Wilberforce yesterday opened the important subject
 of the Slave Trade in the House of Commons, in one of the
 ablest  and most eloquent speeches  that was ever heard in
 that or any  other place.   It continued upwards of  three
 hours, and made a sensible and  powerful  impression  upon
 the  House.  He  was  supported  in  the noblest manner  by
 Mr. Pitt, Mr.  Burke, and Mr. Fox, who all agreed in declar-
 ing  that the Slave Trade was the disgrace  and  opprobrium
 of this country, and that nothing but entire abolition could
 cure so monstrous an evil.  It was a glorious night for this
 country.  I was in the House from five to eleven."
   During a recess of parliament  he made a visit to Bath, for
 the benefit of the waters, and while there he had much in-
 tercourse with Mrs. Hannah More.   This was a friendship
 which his  increasing desire  of intercourse with those who
 feared God led him especially at this time to cultivate. There
 was no part of Mrs. H. More's character which  he regarded
 with greater admiration than her active usefulness in the re-
 tirement of the country.   « I  was once," he said, "applied
 to by a Yorkshire clergyman, who desired me to assist him
 in obtaining a dispensation for non-residence  upon his cure.
 He had  been  used, he said, to live in London with the first
 literary circles, and now he was  banished  into the country
 far from all intellectual society. I told him that I  really could
 not in conscience use any influence I possessed to help him •
 and then I mentioned to him  the case of Mrs.  H. More  who
 in like manner had lived with Johnson, Garrick, Burk'e Sir
J. Reynolds, &c. and was so courted by them all, and 'who
had  a  great taste for such  society ; and  yet had  broken
away from its attractions, and shut up herself in  the coun
try,  to devote her  talents to  the instruction of a set of
wretched people sunk in heathen  darkness,  amongst whom
she was spending her time and fortune in  schools and instj. 
  1789.       ORIGIN OF HANNAH MORE's SCHOOLS.          81

i  tutions for their benefit, going in all weathers a considerable
  distance to watch over them, until at last she had many vil-
  lages and some thousands of children under her care.  This is
  truly magnificent, the really sublime in character.  I delight
  to think of it, and of the estimation in  which the sacrifice
  she made will be held in another world." " There is no class
!  of persons," he would add,  " whose condition has been more
  improved within my recollection than that of unmarried wo-
!  men.  Formerly there seemed to be nothing useful in which
1  they could be naturally busy, but now they may always find
I  an object in attending to the poor."
    " Thursday, Aug. 20th. At Cowslip  Green all day.  21st.
  After breakfast to see Cheddar.  Intended to read, dine, &c.
  amongst the rocks, but could not get rid of the people ; so
  determined to go back again.  The rocks  very fine.  Had
  some talk with the people, and gave them something—grate-
  ful   beyond measure—wretchedly  poor and deficient in
  spiritual help.—I hope  to amend their  state."  It was this
  visit to Cheddar,  thus simply related in Mr. Wilberforce's
  Diary, which gave rise to Mrs. More's great exertions for
  her neglected  neighbours.   The vicar of Cheddar  at that
  time was non-resident,  and his curate, who  lived nine miles
  off at  Wells,  visited the  parish on  Sundays only.  The
  spiritual  destitution  of such  a parish, seen  with his own
  eyes, greatly affected Mr. Wilberforce.  The effects which
  followed from his visit are thus recorded in an unpublished
  Journal of Mrs.  Martha More.
     "In  the month of Aug. 1789, Providence directed Mr.
  Wilberforce and his sister to spend a few  days at Cowslip
  Green.  The cliffs of  Cheddar are esteemed the greatest
  curiosity in  those parts.  We recommended  Mr. W. not to
  quit the country till  he had spent a day in surveying these
  tremendous works of nature. We easily prevailed upon
  him, and  the day was fixed  ; but after a little reflection he
  changed his mind, appeared  deeply engaged in some parti-
  cular study, fancied time would scarcely permit,  and the
  whole was given up.  The subject of the cliffs was renewed
  at breakfast; we  again extolled their beauties, and  urged
  the pleasure he  would  receive by going.  He was prevailed
  on and went.   I was in the parlour when he returned ; and
  with the eagerness of vanity  (having recommended the plea-
  sure) I inquired, how he liked the cliffs 1   He replied, they
  were very  fine, but the  poverty and  distress of the people
  were dreadful.   This was all that passed.   He retired to his 
82
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1789-
 apartment and dismissed even his reader.  I said to his sisr
 ter and  mine, I feared Mr.  W. was not well.   The cold
 chicken and wine put into the carriage for his dinner were
 returned untouched.  Mr. W. appeared at supper, seemingly
 refreshed with a higher feast  than  we  had sent with him.
 The servant at his desire was dismissed, when immediately
 he began, ' Miss Hannah  More, something must be done for
 Cheddar.'  He then proceeded to a particular account of
 his day, of the inquiries  he  had made  respecting the poor;
 there was no resident minister, no manufactory, nor did
 there appear  any dawn  of comfort,  either  temporal  or
 spiritual.  The method or possibility of assisting them was
 discussed till a late hour ; it was at length decided in a few
 words, by Mr. W.'s exclaiming, ' If you  will be  at the trou-
 ble, I will be at the expense.'   Something, commonly called
 an impulse,  crossed  my  heart, that told me  it was God's
 work, and it would do; and  though I never have, nor pro-
 bably shall recover the same emotion, yet it is my business
 to water it with watchfulness, and to act up to its then dic-
 tates. Mr. Wilberforce and his sister left us in a day or two
 afterwards.  We turned  many schemes in our head, every
 possible way;  at length those measures were adopted which
 led to the foundation  of the different schools."
  "Resolved," he says, upon the 23d of August, " to think
 seriously to-day  for  to-morrow, my  birth-day,  on which I
 shall be  much more  disturbed."  His more private Journal
 thus records the thoughts  to which he turned  his  mind.
 " Cowslip Green, birth-day eve.  To-morrow I complete my
 thirtieth year.  What shame  ought to cover me when I re-
 view my past  life in all  its circumstances!  With full know-
 ledge of my Master's will, how little have I practised it!
 How little have I executed the purposes I formed last sum-
 mer at Rayrigg!   Wherein am I improved even in my intel-
 lectual powers] My business I pursue but as an amusement,
 and poor Ramsay (now no more) shames me in the compa-
 rison.  Yet  is there hope in God's mercy through Christ.
May He give constancy and vigour  to my resolutions. May
I look ever forward to that  day of account to which I am
 hastening; may I act as  in His sight,  and preserving the
 deepest self-abasement,  may my light so shine  before men
 that  they may see  my good  works, and glorify my Father
 which is in heaven."  Though his own estimate of his exer-
 tions was thus humble,  it  was the surprise of others that he
 did so much.  All his labours were  performed in spite of the 
1789.
LETTER TO MRS. H. MORE.
83
enfeebling presence of bodily debility.  In the course of this
month he wrote  to Mr. Hey a full account of his  present
state of health.  " Though by dint  of medicine I have kept
the enemy under,  he still remains  on  the watch, ready to
come forward in force on any favourable juncture.  I am
still so weak that the least irregularity  disorders me;  and  I
cannot, I dare say, possess  you with an adequate sense of
the lassitude and internal bearing down which then oppresses
me.  I have still the same inability to walk any distance,
much more to ride, without suffering  from the exertion.
During the  winter I used but little  exercise, positively so
called,  though a London day always bringing its toils  along
with it is never a season of idleness and sloth;  I went out
chiefly in my carriage, and kept tolerable hours."
  Mr.  Hey, in replying  to this  letter, pressed upon him
strongly  the advantage he  might probably derive  from  a
course of Buxton  water; and after a  short  time he most
reluctantly followed  his advice.  " What have you to say,"
he  writes  in answer,  " why judgment  should  not  be
pronounced against you?   Thus are  criminals addressed
before they are consigned to their fate;  and as I deem a sen-
tence to  Buxton  to be in a high degree  penal, the  same
allowance to speak in my own defence  ought to be granted
me in this instance.  If on reconsideration the court adheres
to its original opinion, I shall acquiesce, and suffer myself to
be peaceably conveyed to the place of execution.   Seriously
speaking, after being in town for near  eight months, I pant
for retirement and the country, and  feel most unwilling to
plunge into the hurry  of a very crowded  watering-place.
Yet if you  believe there  is a reasonable  probability of my
receiving benefit, I shall not hesitate to comply.  I feel it to
be an  indispensable duty to do all I can for  the perfect, re-
storation of my health, leaving the matter with cheerful resig-
nation  in His hands, who  best knows what is good for us.
If I do recover strength, may He enable me to use it for his
glory."
  From Buxton he wrote to Mrs. Hannah More—

                    TO MRS. H. MORE.

" My dear Madam,
  A letter from Cowslip Green brings with it in some sort
the portraiture of its own scenery, and greatly mends the
prospect to  one shut up amidst bleak, rugged hills, and bar- 
84
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1789.
ren, unprotected valleys.   But it is not on this account only
that yours is acceptable, but  as  it excites various other
pleasing and  refreshing images, which having once found a
place in my mind, will continue  there, I trust, during the re-
mainder of my life.  May they be of still  longer  duration,
and the benefits and the comforts of our friendship be expe-
rienced by both of us when time shall he no more.   For my
dear sister I  must claim the same privilege, and, from what
I have seen of yours, (though as this is  not a case wherein
one ought either to pronounce hastily, or to  pay compli-
ments, I would  not absolutely decide,) I  wish her also to be
admitted into the confederacy.  Thus much for discussion ;
now to business.
  Your plan  is a very  good  one, and I think  you will  find
no difficulty so great as that  of  discovering a proper couple
to carry it into execution.  If you can meet with any such,
by  all means  secure them.  I will desire  a  friend of mine to
make inquiry after a double-headed shot  fitted for doing ex-
ecution in the same way, and, if successful, I shall be at no
loss for an object elsewhere, against which  to direct my  bat-
tery.   As for the expense, the best proof you can give me
that you  believe me hearty in  the cause,  or sincere in the
wishes expressed in the former  part of this letter, is to call
on me for money without reserve.   Every one should  con-
tribute out of his own  proper fund.   I  have  more  money
than time, and if you, or rather your sister, on whom I fore-
see  must be devolved the superintendance  of our  infant es-
tablishment, will condescend  to be my  almoner,  you  will
enable me to  employ some of the superfluity it has pleased
God to give me to good purpose.  Sure I am, that  they  who
subscribe attention and  industry, &c. furnish articles of more
sterling and  intrinsic value.   Besides, I  have a rich banker
in London, Mr. H. Thornton, whom I cannot oblige so much
as by drawing on him for purposes like these.   I shall take
the  liberty of enclosing a draft for £40; but  this  is only
meant for beginning with.
  Now for the mission ... indeed, I fear with you nothing can
be  done in the regular way.   But these poor people must
not, therefore, be suffered to continue in  their present la-
mentable state of darkness.   You  know you told me they
never saw the sun but one  day in the year, and  even the
moon appeared but once  a week for an  hour or two.   The
gravitation to Wells was too strong to be  resisted. My advice
then is, send for  a  comet—Whiston had them at command, 
 1789.        FRIENDLY FEELING TO METHODISTS.           85

 and John Wesley is nr;t unprovided.   Take care, however,
 that eccentricity is  not his only recommendation, and, if
 possible, see and converse with the man before he is deter-
 mined on.            Very much yours,
                                    W.  Wilberforce."

  With the Wesley family  Mr.  Wilberforce had formed a
personal acquaintance through Mrs. More at Richard Hen-
derson's.—"I went I think in 1786 to see her, and  when  I
came into  the  room  Charles Wesley rose from  the table,
around which a numerous party sat at tea, and coming for-
wards to me, gave me solemnly his blessing.  I  was scarcely
ever more affected.  Such was the effect of his manner and
appearance, that it altogether overset me, and I  burst into
tears, unable to restrain myself."*  In recommending one of
" Wesley's  comets,"  Mr. Wilberforce had no thoughts  of
encouraging dissent; for John Wesley was no dissenter from
the church of England, nor were any of his preachers suf-
fered during his lifetime to attempt to administer the sacra-
ments of the church.  Had he not considered them as church-
men Mr. Wilberforce would not have suggested their em-
ployment, for in the same year he dissuaded a  relation,  who
complained  that  in her  place of residence  she could  find
no  religious instruction in the church, from attending at the
 meeting-house.   " Its individual benefits," he  wrote in  an-
 swer to her letter of inquiry, " are no compensation for the
 general evils of dissent.  The increase of dissenters, which
 always follows  from  the institution of unsteepled places of
 worship, is  highly injurious  to the interests of religion in the
 long run."
  The  moral desolation  which  he found in Cheddar was a
 striking illustration of his common maxim, that " the dissen-
 ters could do nothing if it were not for the established church;"
 for the absence of a resident clergyman had brought  the
 village  into  a state of universal ignorance.  " I have taken
 measures,"  he wrote again to Mrs. More upon the 2d of Oc-
 tober, " to send a complete supply of the books  which you de-
 sired.   Your labours  can only be equalled by Spencer's lady
 knights, and they seem to be much of the same kind too, I
 mean you have all sorts of monsters to cope withal." The mon-
 sters were, however, all subdued by this intrepid lady knight,

  * His respect for Charles Wesley was shown in a yearly pension which
 he allowed to  his widow until her death in 1822. 
86
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1789.
supported  by her generous  champion, (the " Red  Cross
knight" was his familiar name with Mrs. Montagu,) without
the eccentric succour of a " comet."  " Your accounts," he
writes somewhat later, " have afforded me  the  utmost plea-
sure, and I would persuade myself that they will be as com-
fortable next year.  I trust you will speak freely when the
money is exhausted .. indeed  I conceive it must be all spent
already . . not to do so would  be to give way either to pride,
or to false delicacy."
  Upon the 20th of October he left Buxton, and " set off for
Yorkshire.  Got to Sheffield where found  River Dee Com-
pany going to dinner, so dined with them."
  "27th. Off after breakfast  for R. where a large party at
dinner—B. the philosopher, &c. Played at cards evening and
supped.  S. how little  of  St. Paul.  F.  an old man.  Alas !
sat up too late, and strong compunctions."  After retiring to
his room he wrote upon a sheet of paper, " I have  been act-
ing a  part this whole evening; and whilst  I  have  appeared
easy and cheerful, my heart has been deeply troubled.  That,
if it should please God  to call me away before to-morrow
morning's light, I  may not have  contributed to encourage
this fatal carelessness concerning the interests of futurity in
never-dying souls, let  me here record  my sense of it, and
warn  all who shall read these  lines, to remember that  awful
declaration, ' For all these things God shall call  thee  into
judgment.'"
  "Sunday, Dec.  6th.  Had some very serious thoughts and
strong compunctions, from which I hope good will result. Re-
member, O my  soul, that  if thou availest not thyself of these
warnings, the greater  will be  thy condemnation.   May I be
enabled to place my happiness in communion with  God, and
may I be found in the spotless robe of Christ's righteousness,
covering my iniquities  from the pure  eyes of a holy God.
When B. dined here I  was too vain and talkative  (humility
should  be  joined  to  cheerfulness).  At night a long  and
earnest conversation with my host upon religion.  May God
bless it to both  of us."
   Though his character had evidently risen in the last twelve
months, yet the new year opened  with strong expressions of
dissatisfaction with himself—a sure consequence of aiming
at an  elevated standard.
   "Jan. 1st. Lock—Scott—with Henry Thornton—'  These
forty years in the wilderness'—received the sacrament.  Most
deeply impressed with serious things, shame from  past life,
and desire of future amendment."  « I have been  receiving 
1790.
EXTENT OF OCCUPATION.
87
the sacrament after an excellent sermon of Scott's, and with
the deepest humiliation I look up for mercy, through Christ,
to that God whose past mercies I have so often abused.   I
resolve by God's help to mortify the flesh with the affections
and lusts, so  far as my very infirm  health  will permit me,
and to labour more and more to live the life I now live in the
flesh, in  the  faith  of  the  Son of God.   How should I be
humbled  by  seeing the  little progress I have made since
1786!"
   His intercourse  with general society,  " from which I dare
not  more withdraw,"  and  into which he  endeavoured  to
carry his high principles of action, occupied much time. His
great cause alone  furnished matter for unremitting toil.  But
besides this,  he applied himself with diligence to all the im-
portant questions  which  were brought forward in parlia-
ment ; and  was most assiduous in his attention to the pri-
vate  business of the  great county which he represented.
" When  you  appear on this stage," writes Mr. James Gren-
ville, "you must always expect to  be scrambled for.  The
land-owner, the manufacturer, the canal man, the turnpike
man, and the iron man will each have a pull in his turn."
   His house was  continually open to an influx of men  of all
conditions.   Pitt and his other parliamentary friends might
 be found there at  " dinner before the House."   So constant
 was their  resort,  that it  was asserted, not a little to his dis-
 advantage  in  Yorkshire,  that he  received  a pension  for
 entertaining  the  partisans of the  minister.   Once every
  week the "Slave Committee" dined with  him.   Messrs.
  Clarkson, Dickson,  &c.  jocosely  named by Mr. Pitt, his
  "white  negroes," were  his constant inmates;  and were
  employed in  classing,   revising,  and  abridging  evidence
  under his own eye.   " I cannot invite you here," he writes
  to  a friend  who was  about to visit  London  for advice,
  " for, during the sitting of parliament, my house is a mere
  hotel."   His breakfast-table  was  thronged  by those who
  came to him on business; or with  whom,  for any  of  his
  many plans of usefulness, he  wished to become personally
  acquainted.  He took  a lively  interest in  the Elland So-
  ciety •  and  besides  subscribing to its funds  £100 per  an-
  num, (under four anonymous entries, to avoid notice,) he
  invited to his house the  young men under  education,  that
  he  might be able  to  distribute them  in proper situations.
  No  one  ever entered  more readily into  sterling  merit,
  though concealed  under  a rough  exterior.  " We have dif-
   ferent  forms," he has said, " assigned to us in the school ot 
88
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.      ,        1790.
 life—different gifts imparted.   All is  not attractive that is
 good.   Iron  is useful, though it does  not  sparkle like the
 diamond.  Gold has not the fragrance of a  flower.  So dif-
 ferent  persons have various modes  of excellence, and we
 must have an eye to all."  Yet no one had a keener or more
 humorous perception of the shades of character.  "Mention,
 when you write next," says the postscript of a letter to Mr.
 Hey, on the announcement of a new candidate for education,
 " the length  of his  mane and tail;" and he wrouId repeat,
 with a full appreciation of its humour, the answer of his
 Lincolnshire footman, to an  inquiry as  to the appearance of
 a recruit who presented  himself in  Palace  Yard,—" What
 sort of a person is he 1"  " Oh, sir,  he  is  a  rough  one."
 The circumstances of his life brought him into contact  with
 the  greatest  varieties of  character.   His  ante-room  was
 thronged from  an early hour; its  first  occupants  being
 generally invited  to  his  breakfast-table;  and  its  later
 tenants only quitting it when he himself went  out on  busi-
 ness.  Like every other  room  in  his house it  was  well
 stored  with books; and the experience of its necessity had
 led to the exchange of the  smaller volumes, with  which it
 was originally furnished, for cumbrous  folios, " whicb could
 not  be  carried off by accident in the pocket of a  coat."
 Its group was often most amusing; and  provoked the wit
 of Mrs. H. More to liken it to " Noah's ark, full  of beasts
 clean and unclean."  On  one chair sat a  Yorkshire consti-
 tuent, manufacturing or agricultural; on another a petitioner
for  charity, or a House of Commons  client ; on another a
Wesleyan preacher: while  side by side with an African, a
foreign missionary, or a Haytian professor, sat perhaps some
man of rank who  sought a  private interview,  and whose
name had accidentally escaped announcement.   To these
mornings succeeded commonly  an  afternoon  of business,
and an evening  in  the House of Commons.  Yet in  this
constant bustle he endeavoured still to live by rule. " Alas,"
he writes upon the  31st of January, " with  how little profit
has my time  passed away since I came to  town !  I have
been almost always in company, and they think me  like
them rather than become like me.   I have  lived too  little
like one of God's peculiar people."  " Hence come waste of
time, forgetfulness of God, neglect of opportunities of use-
fulness,  mistaken impressions  of my character.  Oh may I
be more restrained by my rules for the future; and in the
trying week upon which I am now entering, when I shall be 
 1790.          TEST AND CORPORATION ACTS.            89

so much in company, and give so many entertainments, may
I labour doubly by a greater cultivation of a religious frame,
by prayer, and by all due temperance, to get it well over."
  He was much occupied in the early part of this session by
the fresh application made by the dissenters for the repeal
of the Test and Corporation Acts.   Though he disliked the
peculiar form of  a  sacramental test, yet he thought some
such  restriction  so  needful that he had voted against  his
friend Mr. Beaufoy  when in 1787 the repeal of these enact-
ments was demanded.   In  the spring of 1789, he would not
leave Holwood to vote upon the  question, his "mind not
being made up."  Since that time he had maturely weighed
the subject, and  to  secure its full consideration he had en-
gaged three of his friends, who took different sides upon the
question, (Mr. Gisborne being for and Mr. Hey and Mr. Ma-
son  adverse to the repeal,) to state to him in writing the
grounds of their opinions.   By them the case was well ar-
gued ; Mr. Hey showing most forcibly the necessity, of an
established church  for the welfare of the  nation,  and the
need of such enactments for the safety  of the church, while
Mr. Gisborne's letter embodied  all that  could be said  upon
the opposite side. " He suffers, I suspect," says Mr. Mason,
" his liberality of spirit to carry him beyond what prudence
would suggest at the present time, when Socinianism is so
very prevalent.   1 should  say, smilingly, that  after having
argued  so  well against expediency, he thinks himself now
bound to set his face against every  thing that  may seem to
be expedient."  " Were you a man possessed  merely of an
every-day kind of conscience," writes Dr. Burgh, " I should
answer  your letter on the Paleian principle, and advise  you
by all means to vote with the dissenters, for it is surely very
expedient that  this  county should be  saved  from all  the
evils of a contest at the next election;  especially as it does
not signify a rush on which side you vote as an individual;
for let the question be determined in your House for the re-
 peal of  the Test  Act, which  I think highly improbable, the
 Bill  will undoubtedly be flung out by the House of Lords."
 The debate upon  the question came on in the House of Com-
 mons upon the 3d of March, when the repeal of the restrictive
acts was moved by Mr. Fox in a speech in which he directly
alluded to the opposition of the member for Yorkshire.  In
a correspondence with an  aotive committee  of dissenters
amongst his constituents in the town of Leeds, " some  gar-
bled  quotations  from which," says Dr. Milner, "they have 
90
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1790.
shamefully published," Mr.  Wilberforce had declared  that
his great reluctance "to oppose the repeal of these laws had
been overcome by his conviction of their present necessity."
To this conviction he was  brought by the  persuasion, that
to give such an increase of influence to the  dissenting party
would  endanger  the  Liturgy  and  Articles  of  the church.
The prevalence of those loose principles of faith amongst the
body of the clergy, which had  spread under the ascendency
of a latitudinarian party, had been alarmingly displayed  in
the petitions from the Feathers' Tavern; and the time was
inauspicious for  concessions which  might  promote the ac-
tivity of dissent, or relax the strictness of orthodoxy.
  "Not a day has passed," wrote Mr. Wilberforce upon the
13th of March to Mr. Hey, "since the night of our memora-
ble majority, (294 to 105,) wherein I have not had it in con-
templation to call upon you to rejoice  with me on the result
of the  dissenters' application.   Yet  the satisfaction I receive
from this decision is by no means unalloyed; but I will not
enter into particulars, the field would be too  large at present.
I was  rising to speak immediately  after Mr. Fox, and de-
signed  to discuss  the whole subject,  but Mr. Pitt desired me
to give way for him; and I was myself, as well as the House,
too much tired at one o'clock in the  morning (I had been  in
it ever  since eleven o'clock on the preceding day) to do more
than deliver a public notification of my opinions."
  But  the main business of this spring was the conduct of
the Abolition cause.  He had opened the campaign by a mo-
tion made upon the 14th, and carried, after much opposition,
upon the 27th of January, for referring to a special commit-
tee the further examination of witnesses.  This became now
his daily work, and with the help of the late William Smith
he conducted  personally  all  the examinations.  Here  he
reaped the fruit of his deep- acquaintance  with the  whole
subject, as well as of those habits of self-government which
he had been at such pains to form.  Nothing but his accu-
rate knowledge of details  could have prevented his being
duped  by the misrepresentation  of too many  of the  wiS
nesses; whilst the angry discussions  in which he was  con-
tinually involved rendered a practised temper no less needful
than a  sagacious judgment.
  This was a period of no ordinary labour  to the leader  in
the  struggle.   In  a letter written forty-two  years later, he
reminds Mr. Smith  of these early labours:   « You cannot
any more than myself, have forgotten the weeks after weeks! 
1790.
EXTRACTS FROM DIARY.
91
or rather months after months, in which our chief, though
not most cherished companions, were that keen, sour S----,
that ponderous, coarse, Jack Fuller-like F----;  a very gra-
phical epithet if you remember the man."   His house too
throughout this time was continually full.  The  evening
hours were devoted to consultations on the common cause;
and to keep so many different agents in harmonious exertion
required no little  management.  A few extracts from his
Diary will illustrate these employments.
  "March 18th. Dined at home—William  Smith tete-a-tete
(partly religious); then Clarkson came, and Muncaster, and
looked  over  evidence.   20th. Clarkson  and  Eliot  dined,
(Slave business,)  then Hunter and Sansom came  from the
city;  a different set of ideas in their minds, and in those in
our friends.   22d.  Dined at home—Smith, Clarkson, and
Dickson—Slave business till 11 at  night.   25th.  Committee
as usual.  27th. Town from Clapham to committee as usual.
Dined Bishop  of Salisbury's—Miss More, Sir J. Bankes,
Mrs. Garrick, &c.   We talked of Captain Bligh's affair, and
Sir Joshua (like myself) was not  surprised at  it—Otaheite
Calypso's island.   29th.  Committee—House—Captain  Wil-
liams's  business till 12£ at night.   Not attentive enough-
admired Fox and Pitt, and the lawyers.  Habit will  do much,
I  will  practise.  31st.  Slave  committee—wrangling—got
hold of Norris—then House till £ past 10.   April 1st. Com-
 mittee—some  wrangling—final Report.   2d.  My plan  of
 time this winter has been that of  dining late, and I have
 seldom done any business after dinner.   I doubt about this
 going into company so much, yet I dare not decide against
 it, I am too complicated  in my plans.  3d. Looked over the
 witnesses, &c.  Clarkson and Dickson dined with me.  4th.
 Easter Sunday. Sent to Christian to go to Lock, hoping in
 his present state of mind, having lately heard of his brother's
 conduct, an  impression  might, by God's blessing, be made
 upon him.  5th.  Up to 65—bed 12.  Hard at work on Slave
 Trade evidence all day with ' white negroes,' two Clarksons
 and Dickson.  6th. Hard at work again with Clarksons and
 Dickson on evidence.  C. dined with us;  he seems to have
  o-ot over his  grief  too much."
    On the afternoon of this day he set off, after » much doubt-
  ino-" to spend  a   single day at  Holwood.  "7th. Walked
  about after  breakfast with  Pitt and Grenville—wood with
  bills "   " We sallied  forth armed with bill-hooks, cutting
  new walks  from   one  large  tree to another, through  the 
92
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1790.
 thickets of the Holwood copses."  Yet even in these seasons
 of recreation, he kept a watch over himself, and rigidly noted
 down every instance in which he  had  at  all neglected his
 task of social  reformation.   " Forgot  my  resolutions, and
 too little attended to opportunities of impressing  seriously.
 Surely Pitt must  deem of me as of any  other man."  " 15th.
 Dined at home—Clarkson and Dickson—evidence—Beaufoy
 and a shoal of  people came  in.   16th.  Breakfasted  Pitt's —
 Sunday Bill, &c.   17th.  Met Samuel Home at the  Shaks-
 peare Gallery—picture of Dying  Cardinal, and poor Tom
 Grosvenor's  remark—Hoare,  Sansom,  Wedgwood, Gran-
 ville Sharpe, Clarkson,  Henry Thornton,  and Whitbread
 dined with me.   These city people better than at our end
 of the town.  19th. Evidence, &c.—Saw multitudes of peo-
 ple on business."
   These employments were  soon afterwards exchanged  for
 a  hasty three weeks' canvass, preparatory to the  general
 election of June, 1790.  In his private Diary, he reviews the
 time which had been spent in this canvass, and records  his
 narrow  escape  from a serious accident, when his carriage
 was overturned in the village of Bessingby, near  Bridling-
 ton.  " The confusion of a canvass, and the change of place,
 have led me lately to neglect my resolution.  But  self-indul-
 gence is the root of the evil:  with idleness it is my besetting
 sin.  I pray God  to enable me to  resist both of them, and
 serve  him in newness of life.  How little have I thought of
my deliverance the other day, when the carriage was dashed
to pieces ! How many have  been  killed  by such accidents,
and I unhurt!  Oh let me endeavour to turn to thee."  He
adds, a few days  later, "  I have been thinking  too much of
one particular  failing, that of self-indulgence, whilst I have
too little aimed  at  general reformation.  It is when we de-
sire to love God with all  our hearts, and in all things to de-
vote ourselves  to his service, that we find  our  continual
need of his  help, and  such  incessant  proofs  of  our own
weakness, that we are kept  watchful and  sober, and may
hope by degrees to be renewed in  the spirit of our minds
Oh may I  be thus changed from darkness to light  •  What-
ever reason there  may be for my keeping open^house in Pa-
lace Yard, certain  it  is, that solitude and quiet are favour-
able to reflection and to sober-mindedness ; let me  therefore
endeavour to secure to myself frequent  seasons of uninter-
rupted converse with God."
  The summer of 1790 was  spent  in excursions to Buxton 
1790.            VISIT TO REV. T. GISB0RNE.              93

and visits to his friends, during all which time, however, the
letters of his friends, as  well as his diary, give evidence  of
the constancy of his devotion to the great subject which oc-
cupied his attention.
  He spent  some time at Yoxall Lodge, the seat of the Rev.
T. Gisborne.  Their  college acquaintance had been inter-
rupted when they left  the University; but was  afterwards
renewed by  a letter of inquiry from Mr. Gisborne, when he
first saw the name of Wilberforce connected with the cause
of Abolition.  At Mr. Gisborne's house he had become  well
acquainted with  his near  connexion Mr. Babington.  Inter-
course between  them  soon  grew  into friendship; and for
many years  he made Yoxall Lodge, or Rothley Temple, his
ordinary summer residence. Here he enjoyed uninterrupted
privacy,  combined with the domestic comforts of his friend's
family.   In  these visits he fulfilled those intentions  which
constant company  had  defeated in  his own  residence  at
Rayrigg; and devoted ten  or twelve hours every day  to
study.  " I  could -bear  testimony," writes Mr.  Gisborne,
" were such attestation  needful, to his  laborious, unabated
diligence, day after day,  in pursuing his investigations on
the Slave Trade, and in composing his invaluable work upon
Practical Christianity."  " Never," he  has said, " was I  in
better spirits than when  I thus passed my time  in quiet
study."  He sallied forth always for a walk a short time be-
fore dinner,  amongst the holly groves of the then unenclosed
Needwood forest, where—

                      " His grateful voice
          Sang its own joy, and made the woods rejoice."

" Often have I heard its melodious tones," says his host, " at
such times,  amongst the trees  from the distance of full half
a mile."
  His  object in  his  present visit to Yoxall Lodge, was  to
make himself completely master of the vast mass of evidence
which had now  been collected upon the subject of the Slave
Trade.  Throughout the summer his  attention had never
been withdrawn from this subject.   " I shall make no apolo-
gy," he wrote to Mr. Wyvill from Buxton, upon the 13th of
August, " for putting  into your hands the enclosed  letter
which I  received this morning and beg you will return, and
for desiring you to obtain and send me such information  as
you are able respecting the writer of it, to whom I am  an 
94
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1790.
utter stranger.  It is necessary to be thus circumspect with
regard to witnesses  to be brought before our committee,  be-
cause it would be injurious to our cause to bring forward
men of bad characters; at the same time we should always
recollect that, from the nature of the case, it is not to be  ex-
pected that many  persons, who have been or who are in  the
higher walks of life, will be either well affected to us, or at
least will venture  to step  forth  to assist us with their testi-
mony; and therefore we  must content ourselves with per-
sons,  whose general conduct and estimation give us a right
to contend for the veracity of their accounts."
  It was absolutely necessary for the effectual conduct of the
cause that he should be well acquainted with all the allega-
tions  of its advocates.   To this  work therefore he now ap-
plied himself. " Monday, 4th October.  Off early from Llan-
gollen—dined  at  Shrewsbury—began  to  work  at  slave
evidence with Babington."  And on the following day, after
entering his return with his accustomed " thank God, safely,"
he  adds, " Nov. 5th. Babington  and I determined to work
hard at slave evidence. 6th. Hard at work—breakfast alone,
and need not come down to supper.  No kind of restraint.
I must for a time  defer my tract, because it is advantageous
to read the evidence rapidly to  detect inconsistencies."   A
letter of the 3d to Mr. Hey of Leeds explains the reference
in the preceding entry.  " I have not advanced a single step
since we parted  at Buxton, in  composing the little tract of
which I then spoke to  you.   This is not owing however
either to indolence, procrastination, or any alteration in  my
opinion of the utility of the work ; but after mature conside-
ration, I thought it right to make the slave business my first
object, and ever since I have been at all  stationary I have
been  labouring  at  it  with  great assiduity.   Nor  are  my
labours nearly finished; at which you will  not wonder when
1 tell  you, that besides a great folio volume from the Privy
Council, I have also to scrutinize with much care near 1400
folio pages of Evidence delivered before the House of Com-
mons.  My eyes  are very indifferent, otherwise pretty well
—1 working like  a negro."
   "Mr.  Wilberforce and Mr. Babington," writes a  friend
from  Yoxall Lodge, " have never appeared down-stairs since
we came, except to take a hasty dinner, and for half an hour
after  we have supped ; the Slave Trade now occupies them
nine  hours daily.   Mr. Babington told me last night, that he
had  1400 folio pages  to read, to detect the contradictions, 
1790.           DEATH OF JOHN THORNTON.              95

and  to collect the answers which corroborate  Mr. W.'s as-
sertions in his speeches: these, with more than 2000 papers
to be abridged, must be done within a fortnight.   They talk
of sitting up one night in each week to accomplish it.   The
two  friends begin to look very ill, but they are in excellent
spirits, and  at this moment  I  hear them  laughing at some
absurd  questions in the examination, proposed by a friend
of Mr. Wilberforce's.   You would think Mr.  W. much al-
tered since  we were at Rayrigg.   He is  now  never riotous
or noisy, but  very cheerful,  sometimes lively,  but  talks
a  good deal more on serious  subjects than  he used to  do.
Food,  beyond  what  is  absolutely necessary for his  ex-
istence, seems quite given up.   He has a very slight break-
fast,  a plain and sparing  dinner, and no more  that day ex-
cept  some bread about ten o'clock.  I have given you this
history, as you say  every thing about him must be interest-
ing to you, and this is all I at present see of him."
   Such were his occupations  until his  return  to London in
November.  Throughout this time,  with the exception of two
days, each of which yielded  him  eight hours  of  labour, he
devoted daily nine hours and a half to his main employment.
This was not  the  easy service of popular  declamation on
premises supplied by others, but the real conduct of affairs
with  all the toil and  drudgery of careful preparation.
   Upon the 9th he  enters in his Journal, "Heard  this even-
ing that on Sunday morning, at Bath, died what was mortal
of John Thornton."  " He was allied to me by relationship
and family connexion.   His  character is so  well known that
it  is  scarcely necessary to attempt its delineation.  It may
be useful however to state,  that it was by living with great
simplicity of intention  and conduct  in  the practice of a
Christian life, more than by any superiority of understanding
or of knowledge, that he rendered his name  illustrious in the
view of all the more respectable part of his contemporaries.
He had a counting-house in London, and a handsome  villa
at Clapham.  He anticipated the disposition and pursuits of
the  succeeding generation.  He  devoted  large  sums  an-
nually  to charitable purposes, especially to the  promotion of
the cause of religion both in his own  and  other  countries.
He assisted  many clergymen, enabling them to live in com-
fort,  and to practise  a useful  hospitality.  His  personal
habits  were remarkably simple.   His dinner hour was two
o'clock.  He generally attended   public  worship at some
church or episcopalian chapel  several evenings in  the week, 
96
LIFE OF WILBEKFOKGE.
1790.
and would often sit up to a late hour, in his own study at the
top of the house, engaged in religious exercises." " He died
without a groan or a struggle, and in the full view of glory.
Oh may my last end be like his !"
   On Thursday, the 18th  of November,  he left  Yoxall
Lodge, his two  friends Mr.  Gisborne and  Mr. Babington
bearing him company as far as Tamworth.  The next day
he  reached London, and " plunging" (he writes) " at  once
into a dinner circle of cabinet ministers, how did I regret the
innocent and edifying hilarity of  the Lodge!"
   Ever since  his return to London, he had been employed
in examining and arranging the  evidence on behalf of abo-
lition.  In the preceding summer he had compiled a table of
questions with which Mr. Clarkson had  set forth  to collect
all  the evidence which could  be procured in the northern
counties.   Several witnesses  had  been  discovered in this
journey.  Mr. Wilberforce had himself obtained some others.
One part  of his present task was to  select from them  such
as could give the most important information.   To  this was
soon added a daily  attendance  upon  the examinations till
their close, and then a careful  study and abridgment of the
whole mass of evidence.
  To Clapham he retired upon the 23d March, and " going
to town as seldom as possible, and only upon very particular
business  to the  house or elsewhere," he set  hard to work
writing and digesting the evidence.  So incessant  was this
occupation, that  on the  eve of the ensuing debate, as upon
one previous occasion, he  judged it right to  devote to his
work  of mercy that holy day upon which it is the ordinary
privilege of the busiest Christian  to rest from worldly cares.
" Spent" (are his entries  upon these occasions) " Sunday as
a working day—did not  go to church—Slave trade.  Gave
up  Sunday to  slave  business—did business  and so ended
this sabbath.  I hope it was a grief to me the whole time to
turn it from its true purposes."
  And now that the day approached,  upon  the  event  of
which was suspended the welfare of his many unknown
clients on the  shores of Africa, and the success of his  own
toil and privations for four years of incessant  labour, the
prospect  before him was by no means  encouraging.  In the
year 1787, when he had undertaken the cause, its advocates
looked confidently forward to  the speedy suppression of the
trade.  Wherever  the facts  connected  with  its existence
had been  made  known, a  voice  of indignation was raised 
1791.
LETTER TO HIS SISTER.
97
against its guilt.  In the beginning of 1788, " more difficul-
ties" met  the  instructed eyes of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Wilber-
force, yet  still  they deemed the cause prospering.  " When
these articles are properly authenticated before the House,"
writes Sir C. Middleton, (no sanguine calculator of national
virtue,) in Jan. 1788, " I have little  doubt of carrying abso-
lute Abolition  in the House of Commons, and such restric-
tions  in the House of Lords  as will amount to the same
thing.  Lord H. himself under such evidence will be ashamed
to countenance the trade."  Even when first assailed in the
House of Commons, its only public advocates were the two
members  who directly represented the African  merchants.
In  the course however of that very session a  more wide
opposition made itself apparent. Its increasing strength was
seen in the successive  debates in both Houses of Parliament
on the bill for regulating the middle passage; and when, in
the spring of  1789, Mr. Wilberforce had given notice of his
first motion for the entire suppression of the trade, it burst
at  once into  a flame.   It arose  amongst the Guinea mer-
chants ; reinforced however before long  by the great body
of West  Indian planters.   Some few amongst  them were
from the first favourable to the suppression of the Slave
Trade; but the great majority, though they declared it to
be an English and not a West Indian trade, asserted that it
was  absolutely essential to the existence of their property.
It  is  the nature of such a defence of established  enormities
to yield  at first  to the  generous assault, until gathering
strength from the slow but  certain succour  of selfish appre-
hension, it retracts all its concessions  and  gains its former
ground.  The first burst of generous indignation promised
nothing less than the instant abolition of the trade: but mer-
cantile jealousy had taken  the alarm, and  the defenders of
 the West Indian system soon found themselves strengthened
 by the independent alliance of commercial men.
    The debate of the 12th of May gave, indeed, a short-lived
 promise of more  successful progress.   But delay was the
 secret of West Indian policy.   They trusted to the strength
 with which caution, selfishness, and misrepresentation would
 recruit their  ranks; and they were not deceived.  The evil
 was distant and disputed; the sacrifice immediate and appa-
 rent   Self-interest was ever watchful, whilst the advocates
 of humanity sometimes slumbered on  their post.  "The
 affair goes on  slowly in parliament,  and with a more perti-
 nacious and  assiduous attendance of our adversaries in the
 committee than of our friends, except indeed  Mr. Wilber- 
98
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1791.
 force, Mr.  Smith,  Sir W. Dolben, and a few others; so that
 we cannot yet guess at the result."*  The  long protracted
 examinations of 1788, 1789, 1790, and 1791, though essen-
 tial to final success, multiplied  for a while the cold and cau-
 tious defenders of  the  trade.   The temper,  moreover,  of
 events  was  most  favourable to  their endeavours.   In the
 repose of peaceful times it is difficult to estimate aright the
 extreme agitation  produced in  our own political atmosphere
 by that hurricane  of terror which desolated  France.   Revo-
 lution, which had  made  that people the fair promise of rea-
 sonable liberty, had before this time thrown off the comely
 mask which concealed her hated features, and openly revelled
 in infidelity and blood.   A small, though soon afterwards a
 noisy, party  watched eagerly the convulsions of the neigh-
 bouring kingdom, and  dreamed of renovating by  French
 principles the English constitution;  but the great bulk  of
 the nation, exhausted by the war with America, and wearied
 by the strife  of parties, viewyed  with  horror  the  excesses  of
 France, and  recoiled with disgust from the abused names  of
 humanity and freedom.   Even  the ordinary excitement of a
 general election could not rouse the nation from  the political
 repose of 1790.  Nor was it merely this general  tendency
 to quiet which repressed the efforts of the  Abolition party.
 The seed of  French principles,  which had been widely scat-
 tered throughout her foreign settlements, was already ripen-
 ing into a harvest  of colonial  insurrection.  The strife  of
 Paris, renewed amongst the free inhabitants of St. Domingo,
 was soon transmitted thence to  Dominica ; and to the efforts
 of the true friends of peace were  instantly attributed the
 intestine discords of an English colony.
   Amidst various  elements of opposition Mr. Wilberforce
 approached the contest of April, 1791.  Though none could
 be sanguine of immediate success,  yet he was not without
 many cheering assurances of sympathy.  " You, sir," writes
 Dr. Peckard, " will stand in the British parliament as did
 Episcopius in the  infamous synod of Dort,  with the whole
 force  of truth, with  every rational argument, and with all
 the powers of moving eloquence  upon your side, and all  to
 no purpose."  Still nearer to the actual conflict, he received
an animating charge traced upon the bed of death by the
faltering hand of the venerable  Wesley.f
  * Letter from firanville Sharpe, 17th  March, 1790.
 ^ ll S£T ?r£buble thu this ,was amongst ihe very last efforts of his pen.
On the 25th of February he sank into that lethargy in which he lay until his
death, upon the 2d of March. It is docketted by Mr. Wilberforce " Wesley's
last words,'"                                              J ' 
1791.
LETTER OF JOHN WESLEY.
99
                                          "Feb. 24, 1791.
" My dear Sir,
  Unless the Divine  power has raised you  up to be as
Athanasius contra mundum, I see not how you can go
through your glorious enterprise, in opposing that execrable
villany which is the scandal of religion, of England, and of
human nature.   Unless God has raised  you up for this very
thing, you will  be worn out by the opposition of men and
devils ;  but if God be  for you who can be against you.  Are
all of them together stronger than God 7  Oh be not weary
of well doing.  Go on in the name of God, and in the power
of his might, till even  American slavery, the vilest that ever
saw the sun, shall vanish away before it.   That  he who has
guided you from your youth up may continue to strengthen
you in this and all things, is the prayer of,
                         Dear Sir,
                           Your affectionate servant,
                                       John Wesley."

   Such sympathy no  doubt often cheered his spirit in the
 weary hours of "thoughtful preparation.  But it was  by  a
 greater might  that he was strengthened.  He  approached
 the combat  strong in " truth" itself, and  in " the armour of
 righteousness on the right hand and on the left."  " May
 God," he writes in his private memoranda a few days before
 the contest, " enable me henceforth to live more  to his glory,
 and bless me in this great work I have now in  hand.  May
 I look to him for wisdom and strength and the power of per-
 suasion, and may I surrender myself to him as  to the event
 with perfect submission, and ascribe to him all  the praise if
 I succeed, and if I fail say from the heart thy will be done."
 « Motion put off," he  adds a few days later, "from Tuesday,
 April 12th, to  Monday, 18th, when most  sadly unprepared,
 yet after trials to put it off came to House quite unmade up
 as to speech.  By God's blessing got through pretty well to
 others' satisfaction, but very little  to my own—I  knowing
 how much  omitted.  Tuesday, 19th.  Resumed debate and
 sadly beat."
   In the course of the debate he was earnestly supported by
 Mr  Smith and Mr. Fox ; and Mr. Pitt, in establishing the
 needless injustice of the traffic, equalled any of those great
 efforts by which he confounded opposition.   Two members
 had the courage to avow openly their altered or established
 sentiments.  The opposition, headed  by Lord  John  Russel 
100
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1791.
 and Colonel Tarleton, and, well described in a speech of one
 of their own body as the war of the pigmies against the
 giants of the House, consisted of little else than trite impu-
 tations of misrepresentation or unsupported assertions of in-
 jury. Their cause was more effectually maintained by a mul-
 titude of silent  votes, and  the  character,  talents and hu-
 manity of the House were left in a minority of 88 to 163.
   The conclusion of the  session  now released him from a
 further stay  in London.   " I am afraid," he wrote to Mr.
 Babington, "that even the mildness of your nature has been
 sharpened to exacerbation (as Dr. Johnson would term it)
 by my obstinate silence.   But if so, it is rather  a proof of
 your unreasonableness than of my criminality. . . This is the
 true  mode of defence,  to shift the war, like Tippoo, into the
 quarters of the  enemy. . . However—behold me now upon
 my road to Bath, with  Henry Thornton for my agreeable
 companion.   We  are snug and comfortable, but we  would
 willingly increase our duet to a trio to admit your Honour.
 Now do  not  suppose  that  after being half  choked,  and
 smoked, and  roasted in town, I am about to finish the work
 in Bath.  To have grass  up to my  door after so  long  a
 parching  of my heels on the pavement  of London is not a
 luxury, but necessary  for  me.  I have therefore leased a
 country house within reach of the Pump-room, and so shall
 enjoy the  comforts of a beautiful country residence, whilst,
 with  the salubrious waters  of King  Bladud, I am washing
 away the * sordes' contracted in the course of a long session."
 It was not merely from his delight in  country scenes that he
 avoided Bath.  The  leisure  hours which he thus secured,
 were devoted to reading and reflection.
   Here he spent about a month, and refusing all invitations
 to dine  out, enjoyed  at  home  the society of a few  chosen
friends, the chief amongst whom were Mr. Henry Thornton,
Mr. Grant, and  Mr.  Eliot.   To  the house  of  Mr.  Eliot at
 Burton Pynsent, he made an  excursion  upon the 30th of
June. " Set off early for Eliot's. Dined with G. his friend.  I
must  beware of this sort of old bachelor's life.  G. sadly tak-
ing God's  name in vain."  To any of his friends  who  had
contracted this irreverent  habit, he made a practice of ad-
dressing by letter his  most serious admonitions  ; and he has
 often  said  that by this custom he never lost, and but once
endangered the continuance of a friendship.   " I wrote to
the late Sir----, and mentioned to him this bad habit.  He
 sept me in reply an angry letter, returning a book that I had 
1791.        LIBERALITY OF HIS CONSTITUENTS.          101

given him; and asking for  one he had given me.  Instead
of it  I sent him a second  letter  of friendly expostulation,
which so won him over, that he wrote to me in the kindest
tone, and begged me to send him back again the book he had
so hastily returned."
  He was now arranging his movements  for the summer.
It has been stated that he had no residence on his landed
property, and therefore was not summoned into Yorkshire
by the ordinary duties of a  country gentleman; and though
upon all great occasions, when he thought his presence might
be useful, he repaired to York,  he never visited the county to
maintain an interest.   "I must mention,"  he has said, "the
uncommon kindness and liberality which I experienced from
my constituents.  In former times the county members dis-
played their equipages annually at the races, and constituted
a part of the grand jury at the summer  assizes; the  latter,
indeed, I should  have  been glad to attend, but  for the un-
seemly festivities which commonly take place at that period.
I was not, however, wanted;  the number of gentlemen of
larger fortune in the county were  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 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."   The requirements of
his singular position demanded this immunity from ordinary
cares. And he considered  himself as best  fulfilling his duty
towards his constituents, when he was most diligently quali-
fying himself to watch over their interests with effect.  To
give himself more entirely to these great objects, he devolved
upon one or other  of his  friends the management  of his
property, which was kindly undertaken at  different times by
Mr. R. Smith and Mr. Henry Duncombe.
  The whole of this autumn,  which was  spent in visiting
different friends, he devoted to diligent study.  " Aug. 24th.
I mean to apply to public speaking preparation.  Busy in
reading English history with  Babington."  So earnest was
he now  in  application,  that in their daily walks the  two
friends continued  their study, one of them reading aloud
whilst his steps were  guided by the  other.  "Delightful
weather," he  says at this time,—."reading  Rapin  out of
                           9* 
102               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1791.

doors."   The  nature  of  his occupations may be gathered
from his list of subjects on his first establishment at Rothley
Temple.   " Bible, English  History,  Fenelon's Characters:
Horace, by heart." . . The notes and references in his  own
hand, with which the copy he now used abound, especially
throughout the Satires and Epistles, testify the care and dili-
gence with which he studied. . . " Cicero de Oratore, Addi-
son's Cato, Hume, Hudibras, Pilgrim's Progress, Doddridge's
Sermons, Jonathan Edwards, Owen, Letters.''''  This last  head
occupied a large portion  of his time.  " My letters,"  was in
later life his declaration,  " are as  much my bane as conver-
sation was that of Mackintosh; yet how can I prevent it V
Without giving up  a peculiar mode of usefulness he could
not, for he had become early a marked man, whose advice
and assistance, both in charity and business, were eagerly
sought for by the doubting and the distressed.  Add to this,
that it was essential to his  usefulness that he should  keep
up intimate communications with  those who in various dis-
tricts  could influence  society, or  report  to  him the  facts
which marked its temper;  so that though his  large corre-
spondence diminished the apparent fruit of his  exertions, it
was itself one of his most effective modes of usefulness.
  His resolutions, as entered from time to time in his Diary,
are of the most strictly  practical complexion, and are evi-
dently the results of habitual watchfulness.   " May God, for
Christ's sake,  enable me  to serve  Him from a genuine  prin-
ciple of evangelical obedience.   I will labour after a sense of
God's presence, and a remembrance  that  I  have  been re-
deemed,  and so am not  my own.   More fixedness in devo-
tion, reading Scripture, and  self-examination—greater self-
restraint in lawful  things, both in  thought and act.   Little
secret self-denials, without much thought.  More real grati-
tude to God at meals, and when enjoying other  comforts—
kind friends, and all external conveniences.   In company—,
rational conversation and innocent mirth.   Topics prepared
—what good  can I do or get—draw out others when  I can
without feeding their vanity—above all aim at their spiritual
good—think for each of them.  Truth to be observed strictly.
General kindness and mildness, especially towards inferiors
—beware of vanity and evil speaking.  Frequent aspirations
in solitary relaxation—recapitulate or  revolve  topics,  or at
least  avoid rambling, wandering  thoughts.  In  every thing,
according to its measure, you may please or displease God.
Nov.  14th. Resumed my labours according to the same plan 
179L
RETURN TO LONDON.
103
 —thinking and  dictating on topics—getting by heart—his-
 tory—letters—serious,  Bible.  20th.  I have  been reading
 Sir M. Hale's life. What a man was he ! and why may not
 I  love God as  well,  and  render to Christ  as  gratefully 1
 Monday,  21st.  Resumed work; but a bad day with me,
 and heavy in spirit; though a little roused by Witherspoon.
 27(h.  Sunday.  Cold at first rising, afterwards earnest-
 serious thoughts  and  fervent  prayer;  and  now  I most
 seriously resolve to turn to God with my whole heart.   I
 have  been  reading Doddridge's  life.   What a wonderful
 man !   Yet I may apply to the same  Saviour.   I  propose
 henceforth to try at eleven hours of all sorts  of business one
 day with another whilst in the country; nine hours of which
 to be exclusive of ' serious.'  28th. Got up after too short a
 night,  and  stupid  in  consequence through the day.  I was
 too forgetful  to-day of my regulations,  yet  rather warm  in
 devotions at night.  29th. Not so inattentive as I often am ;
 yet, alas, how little what I ought to be!"
   Mr.  Wilberforce's  quiet stay at Yoxall Lodge was sud-
 denly  disturbed  by  a   summons from  his  friend  Henry
 Thornton, on the evening of the 16th Dec.
   The hurry and interruptions of his London life were now
 begun.  " Jan. 7th. Out in the morning—employed all day.
 W. Smith called in the afternoon.  I talked to him on reli-
 gion, but too much as a matter of criticism.   10th. City—
 Sierra Leone; and afternoon slave business.   Then  Henry
 Thornton's, where discussed, and home late;  Grant our
 associate.  I find that I  can hardly keep an account of time.
 18th.  Queen's birth-day—at St. James's.  Dined at Pitt's—
 sadly idle.   What stuff such a day as this is !   21st. Went
tete-a-tete with Pitt to Wimbledon—finance  lecture on the
way.   A long discussion with Dundas after dinner—a most
excellent man of business.  Oh what a pity that he  is not
alive to what is best! his diligence shames me."
  In entering  upon this distracting scene he did not forget
the resolutions of greater watchfulness with which  he had
closed  his last London  season.   " I will watch and pray,"
he says, " or God may punish my  carelessness by suffering
me to  fall a prey to sin.  Christ says, through his apostle,
' Be  not conformed to  this world.'  Do thou  teach me,
Lord, the true limits of conformity.  I have been hearing a
most excellent sermon from Mr. Scott, on  procrastination.
I was  very  cold and sluggish in spiritual  affections both
yesterday and this morning, but I hope this discourse has 
104
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1792.
roused me;  may I be enabled to put in practice these most
important admonitions.  I have much cause for humiliation
in the  past  week; yet I think  I go  on better in my own
house than in Henry Thornton's, from having more quiet;
and I humbly resolve to press forward, and apply diligently
to the throne of grace, that Christ may be made to me wis-
dom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption."
To Mr. Mason, whom Dr. Burgh describes " as entertaining
paternal feelings towards you, which have received an acces-
sion from  your late kind attention to him,"  he writes soon
after his  return to London—" To you, who know Yoxall
Lodge, and  can by the utmost stretch of your imagination
form to yourself some idea of my London, I need hardly say
how  I feel the change; yet I trust I am on my post, and  in
that persuasion I determine not to abandon it.  I endeavour
as much as  I  can  to preserve my Need wood Forest mind
in my Palace Yard habitation, and whilst I am in the busy
and the social circle, (and I will confess to you the latter is to
me the more laborious and dangerous  service of the two,)
I labour, looking  to a better  strength  than  my own, to dis-
charge the duties of this life,  from a regard to the happiness
of the other,  and from a sentiment of gratitude towards Him
to whose undeserved mercy alone I can look for its  attain-
ment.  I will not be so affected as to offer any apology for
exhibiting this picture of my mind; on the contrary, I am
persuaded you will rather thank me for it, accepting it as a
proof of the cordiality and  affection with which I am,
                    Very sincerely yours,
                                    W. Wilberforce."

   But although he watched over himself thus diligently, and
withdrew  from all  superfluous  intercourse with society,
" dining from home less than in former years, and  giving
fewer dinners, either  ordinary or formal, upon Milner's per-
suasion ;"  yet his wakeful eye detected some injury to his
spirit from  his continual  engagements. " Both  my body
and mind suffer from over-occupation.  My heart is now in
a cold  and senseless state, and I have  reason to adore the
goodness of  God in not hardening me.  I have been short
and  cold, and wandering in  private devotions.  Habit and
the grace of God preventing me have  kept me in a decent
observance of external duties, but all within is overgrown
with  weeds, and every  truly Christian grace  well nigh
choked.  Yet, O  thou all-merciful Father,  and  thou Sa- 
 1792.          effect of his new principles.           105

 viour of sinners, receive me yet again, and supply me with
 strength.  Oh let me now quicken the things that are ready
 to die!   My worldly connexions certainly  draw me into
 temptations great and innumerable, yet I dare not withdraw
 from a station in which God  has placed me.  Still  let me
 deal honestly with myself in  this matter, and if, on  further
 trial, I find reason  to believe I ought to lead a more seques-
 tered  life,  may I not  dread the imputation  of singularity.
 If from my extreme weakness this public company-keeping
 life  cannot be made consistent with  a heavenly  frame of
 mind, I  think  I ought  to retire more.  Herein and in all
 things may God direct me; but let me strive more against
 my  corruptions, and particularly not straiten prayer.   I find
 myself confiding in my resolutions; let me universally dis-
 trust myself, but let me throw myself at the feet of Christ as
 an undone creature, distrusting, yea despairing of myself,
 but  firmly relying upon Him.   • Him that cometh unto me
 I will  in no wise cast out.'   ' They that wait on the Lord
 shall renew their strength.' "
   These serious thoughts with which  he mingled in the un-
 thinking crowd of ordinary  companions, were quickened by
 the affecting accounts which he received of the last hours of
 a near relation.  " 22d January.  Saw the astonishing letter
 from Miss More, containing an  account, written inter mori-
 endum, of  Harriet Bird's death at six o'clock on Wednesday
 morning.   Oh  may my latter  end be like  hers!   Strongly
 affected; may  it be deeply."  " I have been extremely af-
 fected  by Miss  More's account of Harriet's  death-bed scene.
 —How can I but be so—particularly  her illumination, and
 the following agony just before  she was taken to glory.   I
 have felt these  things,  I humbly hope,  not  in vain.  She
 prayed for me on her death-bed.  How does her  progress
 shame me!  I am  behind, far  behind, all of them.  But my
eyes will not allow me  to write; many  tears to-day from
mental struggles have injured them.  May God, for Christ's
sake, cause them not to flowT in  vain.   I fly to Him for par-
don, pleading the blood of Jesus. Though I almost despair,
yet Christ is mighty to save.   I have been looking  over let-
ters  written to me by Milner, Pitt, &c, when I first entered
 upon a religious profession.  How little have I corresponded
to the outset!   Yet it is not too  late.   But  I am apt to take
 comfort after writing thus, as though the business was done.
 Let me dismiss all vain confidence, and build upon  the sure
 foundation." 
106
life of wilberforce.
1792.
  A letter detailing the events which had occurred at Bath,
called forth the following reply :

               TO WILLIAM MANNING,  ESQ.

                            " Palace Yard, 20th January, 1792.
" My dear Manning,
  My eyes are but indifferent to-day, and I have much work
for them;  yet I cannot  forbear  taking up my pen for a few
moments, not from form you will believe, but feeling, on the
perusal of your  kind letter.  Such a crowd of ideas  rush
into  my mind, that I scarce know how to  discriminate or
select them.  I cannot  help almost envying you the scene
you  have  been witnessing.   O my dear friend, never forget
it; let it  still be  present to your mind, and let  it force all
those concerns which are so apt to engross our imaginations,
and interest our hearts, to retire to their proper distance, or
rather to shrink to their true point of insignificance.  Never
let me forget it.   When I seem to you at any time to be in-
toxicated as it were by the  hurry, the business,  or the dis-
sipation of life, spare  not  the  best  offices of friendship;
recall me to that  sobriety and  seriousness of mind, which
become  those who know  not  when  they  may be called
away:  place before me  the solemn triumphs of  which you
have been a spectator, and animate me to press forward in
emulation of so glorious an example. To die the death, we must
indeed live the life, of Christians.  We must fix our affections
on things above, not on things  on the earth.  We must en-
deavour habitually to preserve that frame of mind, and that
course of conduct, with which we may be justly said  to be
waiting  for  the  appearance of the  Lord Jesus  Christ.  I
know not any description  of a Christian which  impresses
itself so forcibly as this on my mind.   Alas! when with this
which I ought to be I compare  myself as I am, I  am lost in
unutterable shame and  self-abasement.  But I throw myself
on the mercies of God in Christ; I resolve to venture all on
this foundation; and  relying on  that help which is promised
to them that ask it, I determine  to struggle with all my cor-
ruptions, and to employ what is left to me of life, and talents,
and  influence, in  the way which  shall appear to me  most
pleasing to my heavenly Father.   Oh with what humiliation
have I to look back on the  years wherein all these were so
grossly wasted;  and what  reason have I to rejoice that I
was not then snatched away! 
 1792.          LETTER TO WILLIAM MANNING.           107

   " I will not apologize for giving you this  picture of my
 mind; you  will accept  it, I trust,  (such indeed  it is,) as a
 proof of affection  and confidence.   In truth, I often regret
 that we are so separated, as not to afford us the opportunity
 of exhibiting proofs of this last to each other more frequently
 in personal communications.   May the time at length come,
 when, through  the goodness of God, we may indulge (with
 those friends we have before lost for this life) uninterrupted
 and  ever-growing effusions of affection.   I must lay aside
 my pen.   Adieu.  Remember me most kindly to Mary.  I
 rejoice to hear she is so supported.  Assure her of my con-
 stant prayers.  Remember me also kindly to the Mores and
 to Dr. Fraser, whose tender assiduities I have heard of with
 sincere pleasure, and reflect on with real gratitude.   Believe
 me,  my dear Manning, in great haste,
                     Ever affectionately yours,
                                    W.  Wilberforce."

   To his other occupations, was soon  added constant at-
 tendance  on the parliamentary business  of an important
 session.
   But  though the many questions which  then came before
 parliament received a full share of his attention, the Abolition
 struggle  mainly occupied his  thoughts.   About a  month
 before he  came to London he opened to Lord Muncaster the
 plan of action upon  which he had at first decided.  "I mean,"
 he says, " to bring on the slave business within a month after
 parliament meets, that we may then, being defeated, sound
 the alarm throughout the land, (provoco  ad  populum,) get
 petitions,  &c. and carry  something  important  before the
 session is over.  I  mention  this, lest Clarkson, to whom I
threw it out, should have failed to tell you, and because you
 will  regulate your  motions  accordingly."   But  before the
session commenced there was so fair a promise of reviving
interest in the cause, that henleemed it wiser to postpone his
motion until he could propose  it with the expected sanction
of a  great body of petitions.  " I have considered, and talked
 over with several friends, our future plan of operations, and
we are all at length pretty well agreed, that the best course
will be to endeavour to excite the flame as much as possible
in a secret way, but not to allow it more than to smother
until after I shall have given notice of my intention of bring-
ing the subject forward.   This must  be  the signal for the
fire's bursting forth.  We  hope ere that time to have laid 
108
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1793.
 all our trains, and that by proper efforts the blaze will then
 be universal."
   The conduct of this " appeal to the people" now occupied
 his time,  and he  was daily rousing and directing the efforts
 of his adherents  throughout  the  country.   This was no
 appeal to  the political impulses of the multitude.   Rendered
 necessary " by that vote of the House of Commons  on  the
 Slave Trade question, which proved above all things the ex-
 tremely low ebb of real principle there," it was addressed to
 the moral sympathies of the educated and religious classes.
 " I wish you and  all other country labourers," he  writes to
 Mr.  Hey, " to consider yourselves  not as having concluded,
 but as only beginning your work: it is on the general im-
 pression and feeling of the nation we must rely, rather than
 on the political conscience of the House of Commons.   So
 let the flame be  fanned continually, and may it please God,
 in whose  hands are the hearts of all men, to  bless our  en-
 deavours."  County  meetings to petition  parliament were
 what he  chiefly wished to  obtain.   He  could not but hope
 that the cause was gaining ground  fast in the  country, as it
 became better acquainted with the real nature of this horrid
 traffic.
   To such a pitch was the zeal of the friends of Abolition at
 this time raised, that many had determined  to abstain from
 the consumption of West Indian produce, until the measure
 should be  carried.  " We use East Indian sugar entirely,"
 writes Mr. Babington," and so do  full  two-thirds  of the
friends of Abolition in Leicester."  " Please to take notice,"
 says Mr.  W.  Smith,  " that I have left off sugar completely
 and  entirely for some time past, and shall certainly perse-
vere in my resolution, though I am not yet at all reconciled to
the deprivation of the most favourite  gratification  of  my
palate." Upon this point the opinion of Mr. Wilberforce was
called for  in many quarters, both  for the direction of indi-
vidual  conduct, and to determine the line which should be
held  at county meetings. " When you have leisure to  favour
me with a  line," wrote the venerable Newton, " I shall be glad
of your judgment respecting the associations now  rapidly
forming to stop the consumption  of West Indian produce. If
 you were  to recommend such a measure I should  readily
 adopt it;  at present I think it premature."  " What," asks
 Mr. Gisborne, " are we to say at our meeting as to the use of
 West Indian sugar ?"  Mr. Wilberforce was at first disposed
to recommend this measure, but  upon a mature considera- 
1792.         ALARM OF MINISTERIAL PARTY.            109

tion of all  its probable consequences he decided " that it
should be suspended until, if necessary, it might be adopted
with effect by general concurrence."
  Whilst he was thus rallying his country forces, accounts
arrived of  the recent outrages in St. Domingo.  They af-
forded the enemies of Abolition a pretext for  warmer oppo-
sition, and shook the faith of some of  its adherents.   Many
too of those who continued zealous supporters of the cause,
were for deferring  a fresh  appeal to  parliament till a more
convenient season.
  Nor was it only the natural timidity of irresolute minds
which suggested this temporizing policy;  pressing argu-
ments to the same effect from a very  different quarter tried
but could not shake  his resolution.  "Called away after din-
ner to Slave Committee.  Pitt threw  out  against Slave mo-
tion on  St. Domingo account.   I  must  repose  myself on
God.  The insincerity  of my heart  has been shamefully
evinced  to me to-day, when I could hardly  bring myself to
resolve to do my duty and please God at the expense (as I
suspect  it  will turn out) of my cordiality with Pitt, or rather
his with me."  " Do not be afraid," he tells  Mr. Babington,
" lest I should give ground: I hope, through God's blessing,
to be enabled to press forward, and  never to abandon my
pursuit or relax in it till... a supposition hardly conceivable
... it shall become right so to  do.   This is a matter wherein
all  personal, much more all  ministerial, attachments must be
as  dust  in the balance.   Meanwhile exert yourselves in the
country with renewed vigour.  I should be glad  to have
some petitions, if  possible, even  before my notice, that it
may be  evident the country is alarmed, and  that no receding
of  mine could prevent the measure coming forward.—Poor
fellow !  I can feel for you  :  we people that live in  this bus-
tling place, are called off to other things from what would
otherwise haunt and harass us."
   Nor was this the  only difficulty peculiar to that  troubled
 season.   It was at  this  time that  the  fraternizing spirit of
 revolutionary France established affiliated societies in foreign
 nations, and threatened our  own  population with the infec-
 tion of  her leprous  touch.  From the contagion of her prin-
 ciples the sounder part of the nation shrunk back with hor-
 ror, and viewed with  the  utmost suspicion whatever bore
 the least resemblance to them.   The supporters of the Slave
 Trade were not slow in turning to their own advantage this
 excited state of public  feeling.   The name of Jacobin, and
                          10 
110
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE,
1792.
the charge of holding revolutionary tenets, might be easily
affixed to any advocate of liberty; whilst, however wantonly
imputed, they could not in those times of wakeful suspicion
be  readily removed.   It  was  moreover  inevitable,  that
amongst the friends of Abolition should  be ranged some ac-
tual abettors of these  extreme opinions.   " It is certainly
true, and perfectly natural, that these Jacobins are all friendly
to the Abolition ; and it is no less true and natural that this
operates to the injury of our  cause.  However, I  am not
discouraged.   You seem  yourself to be deep in Abolition
lore;  I am glad of it, as I  am sure you will  be proportion-
ably earnest.   It is a superficial view alone, which makes a
man of sense honestly against  us."*  This evil had been for
some time spreading amongst a certain class of his supporters;
and had scarcely been suppressed by his skill and patience.
" You will see  Clarkson," writes  Mr. Wilberforce to  Lord
Muncaster; " caution him against talking of the French Re-
volution ;  it will be ruin to our cause."   " Clarkson," writes
Dr. Milner," would tell  you that he had  a long conversation
with me.   I wish  him  better  health, and better notions in
politics; no government can stand on such principles as he
appeals to, and maintains.  I  am very sorry  for it,  because
I  see  plainly advantage is  taken of such cases as his, in
order to represent  the friends of Abolition as levellers.  This
is not the only  instance where the converse of a proposition
does not hold : levellers certainly are friends  of Abolition."
Great mischief had already risen to the cause.   " What busi-
ness had  your friend Clarkson," asked  Dundas, " to attend
the Crown and Anchor last Thursday 1   He could not have
done a more mischievous thing to the cause you have taken
in hand."  " On Wednesday  last," says  Mr. Wilberforce's
Diary shortly after he received this letter, " to Pitt's at Hol-
wood.  Stayed till Saturday—with Pitt to town in his phae-
ton, and interesting talk about  Abolition. Some vote against
it not to encourage Paine's  disciples."
   This impression  affected his success elsewhere;  it had
reached the highest quarter with peculiar force ; and created
henceforth an  inseparable  obstacle  to  the exercise of any
ministerial influence in behalf of Abolition. There had been
a time, when George III. had  whispered at the levee, " How
go on your black  clients, Mr. Wilberforce 1"  but  henceforth
he was a determined opposer  of the cause.   Yet in spite of
■these unfavourable circumstances; it was evidently right  to
* To W. Hey, Esq. 
1792.         pitt's speech on slave trade.          Ill

bring the question forward.  The sympathy of the country
was  too much aroused to be patient of delay.  Public meet-
ings, and petitions numerously signed,  multiplied both in
England and in Scotland.
  Even from  Liverpool, where the corporation had  spent,
first  and last, upwards of £10,000 in their pariiamentary
opposition to his motions, he hears from Dr. Currie—" You
will,  perhaps, be surprised  that Liverpool does not petition
for the trade.  Liverpool will never again, I think, petition
on this subject;  conviction of the truth has spread amongst
us widely.   Tarleton is doing himself an injury he little
suspects."
  Upon the 2d of April Mr.  Wilberforce proposed his mo-
tion  in a debate, which  he describes the following morning
to Mr.  Hey.  " I know how much  you  are interested  in
what regards our poor  African fellow-creatures, and there-
fore I take  up my pen  for a single moment to inform you
that, after a very long debate, (we did not separate till near
seven this morning,) my motion for immediate Abolition was
put  by; though supported strenuously by Mr. Fox, and by
Mr.  Pitt with more energy  and ability than were  almost
ever exerted in the House  of Commons."  " Windham, who
has  no love for Pitt, tells me, that Fox and Grey, with whom
he walked home after the debate, agreed with him in think-
ing  Pitt's speech one of the most  extraordinary displays of
eloquence  they  had  ever heard.  For the  last  twenty
minutes he really seemed to be  inspired."   " He was dilat-
ing  upon the future prospects  of civilizing Africa, a topic
which I had suggested  to  him in the  morning."  " We car-
ried a  motion  however  afterwards for gradual Abolition,
against the  united forces of  Africans and West Indians, by
a majority of 238 to 85.  I am congratulated on all hands,
yet  I cannot but feel hurt and humiliated.   WTe must endea-
vour to force the gradual Abolitionists in their Bill (for I will
never myself bring forward a parliamentary license to rob
and murder) to allow as short a term as possible, and under
as many limitations."   " I am glad to hear you say," replies
Mr. Hey, " that you will  not bring in a Bill to license rob-
 bery and murder.  I think this  resolution becoming your
conduct on the ground  you have taken.  But if no scruple
 of this kind  weighed with you, you will  undoubtedly have
 the  advantage in  being the corrector,  rather than the pro-
 poser,  of the Bill.  What you  propose  would probably be
 curtailed in some degree.  Whatever  others propose  you
 will probably be able to modify." 
112
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1792.
  Congratulations  upon this limited success poured in from
all quarters.
  In  this  hurry of business he enters, " Perhaps  I have
been  a  little  more attentive to my devotions in this last
week ; yet too little thinking of God's  presence and  favour.
But  though with a cold heart, I will  proceed, praying for
more grace;  and though this next fortnight  will  be a sadly
hurrying time, I will hope, by God's help, to amend at least
in some things.  Look to Jesus : all other modes  are vain."
  On the 23d Mr. Dundas brought forward his Resolutions
for a gradual Abolition.  " After a hard struggle," writes Mr.
Wilberforce,  " we were last night defeated in our  attempt to
fix the period of the Abolition for the 1st of January, 1795;
the numbers  being 161  to 121.   But  we carried the 1st of
January, 1796, (Mr. Dundas had proposed 1800,) by a ma-
jority of 151  against 132.   On the whole this is  more than
I expected two months ago, and I have much cause for
thankfulness.   We are to contend for  the number of  slaves
to be imported; and then for the House of Lords."
  Upon the 1st of  May, when the question came again be-
fore the House, Mr. Dundas declared himself unable to pro-
pose his Resolutions as amended by the late division. They
were therefore moved by Mr. Pitt, and upon  the  following
day communicated to the Lords in a free conference.   Here
the opponents of the  measure rallied  their broken forces ;
and in spite of Lord  Grenville's  able  arguments, prevailed
upon the House to proceed by calling evidence to their own
bar; a resolution in itself equivalent to a direct vote, which
followed on the 5th of June, when the  business was formally
postponed to  the ensuing session.
  The bustle of this  busy session had not dispelled those
serious purposes with which he  had commenced its labours.
" The beginning of a long recess draws near, and I will en-
deavour to consecrate it to God by a day of solemn prayer
and fasting.  I will labour to lay aside  every weight, and the
sin which doth so easily beset me, and to adorn the doctrine
of God my Saviour; to follow peace with all men,  and above
all to love the Lord my God with all my heart.  O strengthen
me, Lord,  by thy  grace, for I am  very weakness; cleanse
me, for I am all corruption; and since  ease begets careless-
ness, may I be clothed with humility, and may I fear alway."
  The contest  in behalf of Abolition was  throughout con-
ducted by  Mr.  Wilberforce in  a  spirit of  conciliation to-
wards the supporters of  the trade. Some amongst the West 
1792.
VIOLENCE OF HIS OPPONENTS.
113
Indian body were his personal friends, and of all " we should
not forget," he writes to Dr. Currie, " that Christian candour
is  due to the characters of those who carry it on.  There
may be, I doubt not, amongst them many men of enlarged
and humane minds.  I trust that you have done me the jus-
tice to acquit me of having adopted any such indiscriminate
and false judgment as that you oppose."  But it was not to
be expected,  that in a strife which called into violent action
the whole energies of many lower natures, he should always
meet  with opponents  of  a  spirit  like  his own.  He had
throughout the struggle to bear the imputation of unworthy
motives, and  the various assaults of personal  slander.  No
one could unite with him  in this cause,  without in  some
measure sharing in this treatment.
  To engage in correspondence with Wilberforce, was es-
teemed sufficient ground for such annoyance.   In the island
of Tortola, the papers of an English gentleman known  to be
guilty of this  crime were seized by order of the president of
the council,  on the charge of their containing proofs of a
treasonable correspondence with the French.   This jealousy
extended even  to Great Britain.  " The box in which our
petition is enclosed," says a Glasgow correspondent,  " has
been directed to another, that its contents may be unsus-
pected."   And other residents in Liverpool of the same rank
of life  asked with the late Dr. Currie, " If you write,  be
pleased to direct without  your franking it."   Their corre-
spondence was conducted in unsigned letters, sent under the
covers of  unsuspected  persons.  In  a letter which does not
allude  to  West Indian  matters, and was therefore' openly
transmitted, Dr. Currie adds  this postscript, " Trusting this
letter to our post-office with your address, I shall be anxious
to hear of its safe arrival."  The attacks which were aimed
against himself, were not always of this comparatively harm-
less character.  At an  early period of the contest he had
been in danger of personal violence, from " one, who  from
my having been compelled in  quality  of examiner in the
committee to  bring forward  his inconsistencies, conceived
so violent a hatred of me, as even to threaten  my life." The
summer of 1792 had exposed him to two more such assail-
ants.   He had just returned to -London upon Mr.  Henry
Thornton's summons, when the challenge of a West Indian
captain, which  had  been delivered at his Bath lodgings, fol-
lowed  him by post to town.  He  marks in his Journal his
sense of God's goodness in so ordering this business, that he
                          10* 
114
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1792.
was thus allowed leisure to reflect upon the line of conduct
which it became him to adopt.  " Talked," says his Diary at
this time, " with S. about duelling.   He says he should fight,
though disapproving.  I deprecated. My plans uncertain. I
rather think  of returning to Bath,  perhaps partly from a  de-
sire of not appearing to be deterred thence; and partly from
thinking, that a proper and easy explanation of my determi-
nation and views in respect to duelling, might be  in  all  re-
spects eligible.  At all events, I will enter now upon a more
diligent course, which may suit any plan.   I often  waste  my
time in waiting for suitable seasons ;  whereas I ought, as a
single man, to be at home every where;  or at least, to be
always at work."  This affair was carried no further;  but
he was, at the very same  time, brought into  collision with
another assailant, to whose threatened violence he was  ex-
posed for more than two  years.   Kimber, another West In-
dian captain, was thus described  by Sir James Stonehouse,
to whom Mr. Wilberforce  had applied  for the  particulars of
his character.   " He is a very bad man, a great spendthrift;
one  who would swear to any falsehood, and who is linked
with a set of rascals like himself."   This man  had been
charged by  Mr. Wilberforce, in the debate of April, 1792,
with great cruelty in his conduct of the trade. Several trials
in the courts of law followed ; in  one  of  which the captain
was himself capitally indicted for the murder of a negro girl.
Of this  charge he  was not found guilty; escaping,  in  the
judgment of Mr. Wilberforce, "through the shameful remiss-
ness of the Crown lawyers, and the indecent behaviour of a
high personage who from  the bench identified himself with
the prisoner's cause."   These reasons were aided  by  the ap-
parent contradictions of a principal witness, in his evidence
upon a collateral point, for which he was tried and  convicted
in the penalties of perjury; a sentence afterwards commuted
by the Crown.
-   As soon as he was discharged  from prison  he  applied to
Mr.  Wilberforce for what he termed  remuneration  for  his
wrongs.  "  July 11th.  Morning  received  Kimber's letter.
Friday, by  Pitt's advice,  wrote answer  to Kimber."  The
satisfaction he demanded was "A public apology, £5000 in
money, and  such a place under government as would make
me comfortable."  Upon receiving a brief refusal of his pro-
positions, Kimber had recourse to violence.  " Kimber lying
in wait for me—first civil, then abusive."  "  Kimber called
between seven and eight, and again  about ten." "' Very 
 1792.             DANGER FROM KIMBER.               115

 savage-looking,' Amos said,  ' he  went away muttering  and
 shaking his head.'"  The interference of Lord Sheffield (an
 honourable opponent) at last terminated this annoyance, but
 not before one of his friends (the late Lord Rokeby)  had
 thought  it needful  to become his armed  companion in  a
 journey into Yorkshire, to defend  him from anticipated  vio-
 lence.   " I know,"  wrote Mr. Wilberforce at this time to
 Lord  Muncaster  in Cumberland, " how little  the proverb,
 ' Out of sight out of mind,' holds good in the case of any of
 your friendships,  and therefore I  was not  surprised at the
 warmth with which you expressed yourself on the subject of
 Kimber.   How came you to hear any thing of the matter 1
 Was it from me 1  I am sure I intended not to mention  it
 lest I should awaken your kind solicitude, which at three
 hundred miles from its object is not the  most comfortable
 companion.  Perhaps at some unguarded moment the  mat-
 ter slipped from my pen.  I don't yet know whether he has any
 further measures in store: meanwhile be assured I will do all
 for my own security, which you would think  proper if  you
 were my adviser.  I can't say I apprehend much, and I really
 believe, that if he were  to  commit  any act of violence  it
 would be beneficial rather than injurious to the cause."
   Being still detained in the neighbourhood of London by
 Sierra Leone business, he applied  himself at once to his in-
 tended course  of study.   " Taken in," he says, " to dine at
 W. Smith's with  a vast  company—Dr. Aikin, Gillies,  Mr.
 and Mrs. Barbauld, Helen Maria Williams, Mackintosh,  Mr.
 Belshani, Mr.  Sabbatiere, Mr. and  Mrs. Towgood.  I  was
 not sufficiently guarded in talking about religion after dinner.
 Mackintosh  talked  away—he spoke  most highly of Pitt's
 Slave Trade speech.  Came home  as if hunted to Thorn-
 ton's quiet family party, and much  struck with the difference.
 I threw out some  things which  may perhaps be of use.
25th. Had along conversation with Pearson,* on the proper
 measure of a Christian's living in  society, whether religious
 or worldly.  He was very strong for solitude, and speaks of
 the benefit he personally has received from it.   I talked with
 him very openly, and was much struck with what  he said.
 Sunday, 29th.  I have to-day been  for several hours engaged
 in religious  reading, but  too languidly.   I  have had  this
 week some very serious talk with Mr. Pearson.  He strongly
 pressed solitude, from reason, Scripture, and  his own  per-
* The distinguished surgeon. 
116
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1792.
sonal experience.  I believe  he  is right, and mean to seek
more quiet and  solitude than 1  have done;  to consider the
point, and draw up my thoughts  upon it.  30th. Read Howe
' On  Delighting in God,' and much  affected  by  it.  Heard
from Osborne  that there would  be no county meeting, and
therefore set free;  and on thinking the  matter over, resolved
for Bath.  Wrote to Mr. Cecil  to ask him  to be my com-
panion.   Amongst my reasons for Bath one, though not  the
leading  one, is the desire  of solitude;  may God render it
useful to me."
   " My  dear Muncaster," he writes, in answer to a friendly
remonstrance  upon the postponement  of a  long-promised
visit, " notwithstanding your admonition behold me entering
upon a course  of Bath waters, prudently however and mode-
rately like Muncaster the  citizen;  not rashly and violently
like Pennington the soldier.  My dear fellow, I the  more
readily yield myself to the impulse of duty which brings me
hither, because it is altogether  contrary to  my  inclination,
and I am therefore sure I am not under any unfair bias.   It
would  be a high gratification to me to be cooling my feet
upon the mossy brow of Muncaster Park, instead  of  burn-
ing and  parching  them on  the rest-refusing pavement of
Bath.  But do not think I am  dissatisfied, and  not  rather
grateful to God for His overflowing mercies  to me of every
kind; indeed I know no man who  has so  many.  I have
often  thought, that the loss of nineteen-twentieths  of  my
fortune would  scarcely be a loss  to me,  since I have so many
friends whose  attachment I know so well that I  should  not
fear to visit them though reduced to poverty ; and you know
human nature  well enough to acknowledge that this implies
confidence.  I assure you that  in such a case I  should  not
be slow to direct my steps to Muncaster.  You will, I know,
be shocked to  hear that poor Philips has been suddenly car-
ried out of this world.  O my dear friend, may events like
this impress on us  the survivors by how frail a tenure we
hold  our present  life, and excite us to strive for that state
wherein we may be always  ready to attend  the  awful call.
In a moment  like that, how contemptible will  appear  all
those  objects of pleasure or ambition which have  at times
engaged our warmest affections !  ' Give an account of thy
stewardship, for thou mayest be no longer steward.'  What
emphatic words!
               I am always affectionately yours,
                                   W. Wilberforce." 
1792.
FRENCH CITIZENSHIP.
117
  He was soon joined by such a companion as he had de-
sired, in the person of Mr. Grant, who with his wife and
eldest daughter arrived at  Bath upon  the 10th of August.
" Since the Grants are with me," he says, " I study less.  I
have been reading Sir B. Boothby's pamphlets, Mackintosh's,
G. Rose's; Goldsmith's Animated Nature,  Lowth's Isaiah,
Owen, Thomson's Seasons, and Horace by heart."
  " 17th. This is  the day on which Pitt, Dundas, P. Arden,
and  Steele are at Hamels.  I am disposed to wish myself
with them.  I find that even here in religious society I can
have an earthly mind;  yet to depart (when not necessary to
be with them) from  those who fear not God,  and to associate
with those who do,  is one part of waiting on God to which
the promise is made.   ' Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise
from the dead, and  Christ shall give thee light.' "
  Though he at this time diminished in some measure his
intercourse with those of whom he could not hope that they
were living with a constant  reference to unseen things, yet
he did not retire rudely from their friendship.   Not. that his
intimacies had ever been among the enemies of religion; he
had never been so blind as to expect a  national reformation
from men of abandoned character; and neither Mr. Pitt nor
his other friends had ever been tainted with unbelief, or  allied
to that infidel party which has at all times found its rallying
point in opposition to God and His church.   Hence his con-
stant care to employ his private influence for the advance-
ment of religion was not  impeded  by their  opposition  of
principles: the maxims  for which he contended might not
be duly appreciated, but they formed part of  their admitted
creed.
   " The convention" had  bestowed upon  Mr. Wilberforce
in the course of this summer the doubtful honour of French
citizenship.   " I  was provoked  lately," writes Mr. Mason,
" to see your name registered among the list of citizens by
the French savages.  And for what!   Merely for taking up
the cause of humanity previous to their taking up the love
of freedom; the  love of which, even during  their first and
best exertions, was not strong enough to induce them  to
follow your humane steps." " I am considering," he himself
 writes  to Mr. Babington,  " how to prevent the  ill  effect
 which  this  vote might have  upon our Abolition cause."
 Such an opportunity was afforded him by  a  public meeting
held  in London  at this time  to raise  subscriptions for the
 emigrant clergy. 
118
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1792.
  " Friday, 20th. To town to the French clergy public meet-
ing, and consented to be on the committee at Burke's re-
quest, partly to do away French citizenship."
  " 4th. At night alone with Pitt, but talked politics only—did
not find myself equal  to  better talk.  I came  here  hoping
that I might really find an opportunity of talking  seriously
with Pitt.   What am  I, to do so with any one!  O  Christ,
help me.   5th. Morning had some serious talk with Pitt—
interrupted or should have had more.  Walked with him.
I see much reason to admire his integrity, public spirit, and
magnanimity in despising unpopularity."
  In the autumn he went to Yoxall  Lodge, where, with the
exception  of a short visit  to Rothley Temple, he  remained
until he was called to London by the business of the session.
Here he resumed the diligent employments of the preceding
summer, giving however more time than formerly to studies
of a directly religious character.  "I have been employing,"
he says, " most of this morning in reading St. Paul's  Epis-
tles to the Romans and the Galatians." It was  by this care-
ful  study, which no press of business ever interrupted, and
which continued daily through  his life, that he  obtained an
acquaintance with holy Scripture unusual even in  professed
theologians.  A  marked  advance in  his character during
the course of this year may be traced in the altered tone of
his most private entries.  Still indeed they abounded in that
deep humiliation with  which they who have  looked  closely
into the perfect law of liberty must  ever contemplate their
own fulfilment of its demands;  yet  they bear already more
of that  calm and peaceful character which cast so warm a
light upon his later days.  " Though utterly unworthy," he
says, " I  thank  God for  having enabled me to  pray with
earnestness.  Oh that  this may not be as the morning cloud
and as  the early dew !  By his grace I will  persevere with
more earnestness than ever, labouring to work out my own
salvation in an entire and habitual dependence upon Him."
" If you have truly learned to feel the insufficiency of your
own powers," says the Dean  of Carlisle, to whom  he had
poured forth his earnest desires after a more rapid  growth
in holiness, " you have made more progress  than  you think
of; and if you can support that feeling and act upon it for
any time  together, your advance  is very considerable."
He judged himself indeed to be " in a more pleasing state."
" I have been praying,"  he says, " earnestly to God for his
Spirit through Christ to renew my corrupt nature  and make 
1792.
FRIENDS.
119
me spiritually-minded; what folly is all else!  Let me take
courage, relying on the sure promises of God in Christ and
the powerful operations of the Spirit of grace. Though 1 am
weak He is strong,'  I must  more cherish  this  heavenly
inhabitant."
   This  tranquil state of feeling was henceforth fostered by
a system  of greater domestic  intercourse with the friends
whose principles he valued, and  by mingling consequently
less frequently than of old  in the turbulent currents of life.
Some such alteration in his plan was rendered necessary
by the loss of the opportunity of retirement which had been
afforded him, since he  ceased  to own a house at Wimble-
don,  by  the  enlightened  hospitality  of his relative  John
Thornton.  " Young men and  old  have different  habits,"
said his kinsman when he offered  him a room in his house
and the command of his spacious garden, " and I shall leave
you therefore to keep your own  hours, and  take care that
you are not interrupted."
   Of this offer he availed himself until  the death of Mr.
 Thornton in 1790, and  in  the  course of 1792 he agreed to
 share a house on Clapham Common with Mr. Henry Thorn-
 ton, the youngest son of his deceased relative.   Whilst his
 general influence was silently  extending,  there grew up
 around him here a chosen circle of peculiar friends. Amongst
 these must especially be  noticed the Hon.  E. J. Eliot, Mr.
 Grant,  and  Mr.  Henry  Thornton.  Mr.  Eliot,  his early
 friend  and fellow-traveller, was  now settled, for the sake of
 his society, in the immediate  neighbourhood of Battersea
 Rise.  The loss of a wife to whom  he was ardently attached,
 (the favourite sister of Mr. Pitt,) had given a tone of earnest
 piety to the whole character of Mr. Eliot, and taught him to
 co-operate in every useful  scheme  suggested by his friend;
 whilst at the same time there had been inflicted on his spirit
 a wound from which he  never rallied.  His death, in 1797,
  was  attributed by those  who knew  his inmost feelings, to
  the lingering  sorrow of a broken heart.   Of Mr. Grant and
  Mr Henry Thornton it  is needless here to speak.   " Few
  men," says  the latter, referring to this period, " have been
  blest with worthier  or better friends  than have fallen to my
  lot   Mr. Wilberforce stands  at  the head  of these, for he
  was the friend of my  youth.   I owed much to him in every
   sense  soon  after I came out in life;  for his enlarged mind,
   his affectionate and condescending  manners, and his  very
   superior piety, were exactly calculated to supply what was 
120               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1792.

wanting  to  my  improvement  and  my  establishment in a
right  course.  It is chiefly through him that I have been
introduced to a variety of other most valuable  associates."
" When I entered life, I saw a great deal of dishonourable
conduct among people who made great profession of religion.
In my father's house I met with persons  of this  sort.  This
so disgusted  me that, had it not been for the admirable pat-
tern  of consistency and  disinterestedness which I  saw  in
Mr. Wilberforce, I should have been in  danger  of a sort of
infidelity."
  Such was at this time his position; high in public estima-
tion, and rich in private friends; engaged in the conduct of
a most important cause; with his mind now disciplined by
culture, and enriched  by study; whilst the unseen life of his
spirit, escaping from  its early  struggles, was strengthening
into tranquil vigour, as religion took a firmer hold upon his
character, and leavened  more thoroughly the  whole  man.
By this early self-discipline he  had  purchased the calm and
peaceful obedience of the remainder of his course.   He was
now about  to be tried in his political life  with far  more
searching difficulties than any which he had  yet  encoun-
tered.  Like that  holy man of old to whom a severe observer
has beautifully compared him,  he was prepared by humility
and  self-denial for the arduous  trials of a public life; and
like him he supported them with uncorrupted faith.  " From
a careful scrutiny," says Mr. Matthias,* " into the public and
private  life of Mr. Wilberforce, I am inclined to think that
his enemies would be forced into an acknowledgment that
they can find no  occasion against this man, except they find
it against him concerning the law of his  God."
  The autumn of 1792  set in  with heavy clouds darkening
the political horizon.   "Heard of the militia being called out,
and parliament summoned—talked politics, and of the state
of the country, which seems very critical."  Upon the  5th Dec.
" left  Rothley Temple, and after talking with Mr. Robinson
(of Leicester) upon the state of the times, I  travelled on to
Newport Pagnell.  Thursday,   6th.  Arrived in  town and
alighted at Pitt's."
  None but  those who were  altogether blinded by the vio-
lence of party spirit could contemplate without alarm the
troubled aspect of the times.   The  democratical excitement
which the revolutionary fever of our continental neighbours
* Pursuits of Literature. 
1792.
POPULAR DISTURBANCES.
121
had imparted to a portion of our own  population, had  been
eagerly fostered by  artful  and disaffected men,  and was
ready in many places to break out into absolute rebellion.
  " I cartnot omit," writes Mr. Wyvill, " to communicate to
you by the earliest opportunity what I have heard since I
came here concerning the disposition of the lower people in
the county of Durham.  Considerable numbers in Bernard
Castle  have manifested  disaffection to the constitution, and
the words, 'No King,' ' Liberty,' and  ' Equality,' have been
written there upon the Market Cross.  During the late dis-
turbances amongst the keelmen at Shields and Sunderland,
General Lambton was thus addressed : ' Have you read this
little work of Tom Paine's.' ' No.' ' Then read it—we like it
much.   You have a great estate,  General;  we shall soon
divide  it  amongst us.'  ' You will presently  spend  it  in
liquor, and what  will you  do then V  ' Why then, General,
we will divide again.'"  " At  Carlisle," writes Dr. Milner,
" we had many reports concerning tumults and sedition, and
the affair seemed  to  be  of considerable  magnitude.   Some
few gentlemen I understand are disposed  to  favour French
principles, and I am exceedingly sorry to find that Mr. Paley
is as loose in his politics as he is in  his  religion.  He has
considerable influence in promoting this sort of work by  his
conversation, which  has a strong tendency to destroy all
subordination,  and bring rulers of  every description into
contempt."
   The same apprehensions  were excited amongst  sober-
minded men in all parts  of the country. " Immense pains," he
heard  from Leeds, "are now taken to make the lower class
of people discontented, and to excite rebellion.   Paine's mis-
chievous  work on 'the Rights of Man,' is compressed into a
sixpenny pamphlet, and is sold and given away in profusion.
One merchant in this town ordered two hundred of them to
 be given  at his expense:  you may see them  in  the  houses
 of our journeymen  cloth-dressers.   The soldiers are every
 where tampered with ;  no  pains are spared to render this
 island a scene of confusion."
   All  this was sufficiently alarming;  while the danger was
 increased by the  probability  of a French war, which must
 necessarily add to the burdens of the people, and so further
 the designs of the revolutionary faction.  With his eyes fully
 open  to  these evils, he took a calm and sober view of the
 amount of danger.
                            11 
122
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1792.
   " To you," he tells Mr. Hey, " I will frankly own, that I
 entertain rather gloomy apprehensions concerning the  state
 of this country.   Not that I fear any speedy commotion ;  of
 this I own I see no danger.  Almost every man of property
 in the kingdom is of course the friend of civil order, and if a
 few mad-headed professors of liberty and equality were to
 attempt to bring their theories into  practice, they would  be
 crushed in an instant.  But  yet I do foresee a gathering
 storm, and I cannot help fearing  that a country which, like
 this, has so long been blessed beyond all example with every
 spiritual and  temporal good,  will incur  those judgments of
 an incensed God, which in the prophets are  so  often de-
 nounced  against those  who forget the  Author of all  their
 mercies."  " Your letter," he writes  again in answer to a
 detail of facts, "and accounts I have received of the state of
 other places, have convinced me that there is more cause for
 alarm than I had apprehended.  From  my situation I feel
 loaded with responsibility.  I  am considering, and shall con-
 sider diligently, what is best to be done; and I pray God to
 give me wisdom to discern, and courage and perseverance
 to walk in the path of duty.   I own to you that what throws
 the deepest gloom over my prospects is  the prevailing pro-
 fligacy of the times, and above all, that self-sufficiency, and
 proud and ungrateful forgetfulness of God, which is so gene-
 ral in the higher ranks of life.  I think  of proposing to the
 Archbishop of Canterbury to suggest the appointment of a
 day of fasting and humiliation."
   The same sober estimate of present appearances, led him
 to check the exultation with which Mr. Hey regarded a tem-
 porary burst of loyalty in the  town  of Leeds.   " ' God save
 the King' was sung, with a chorus of three cheers after each
 verse, by the whole  meeting, the most numerous I ever saw
 upon  any such public occasion; about 3000  in  number.
 The populace paraded the streets until night came on, car-
 rying an image of Tom Paine  upon a pole, with a rope round
 his neck which was  held by a man  behind, who continually
 lashed  the effigy with  a carter's whip.  The effigy was at
 last  burned in the market-place,  the  market-bell  tolling
 slowly.  I never saw  so quiet a mob; a smile sat on every
 face ;  the  people went peaceably home;  no outrage, no op-
probrious  language, but' God save the  King' resounded  in
the streets.  A happy change in this  town."  " I rejoice to
hear that so much unanimity prevailed at Leeds," was Mr. 
1792.
HIS OPPOSITION TO PITT.
123
Wilberforce's  answer, " but I do not build  much  on such
hasty effusions : this one word in reply to yours."
  Parliament met upon the 13th of December, when the Ad-
dress upon the King's speech, which Mr. Fox opposed and
Mr. Windham defended, expressed a strong desire of main-
taining  peace.  " I had thought much upon it,  yet  found
myself indisposed  for speaking."  On the debate upon Mr.
Fox's amendment to the Address, he declared his opinions.
" War," he said, " he considered at all times the greatest of
human evils, and  never more pregnant with injury than at
the present moment;  but he supported the Address, as the
most likely means  of preserving peace."
  This was now his great object.   He was himself con-
vinced that Mr. Pitt was honestly pursuing the same policy.
  Throughout  the warm  debates with which  this session
commenced, he was constantly at his post;  watching every
opportunity to promote its continuance.  Yet though thus
anxious to prevent a war, no one could hold in more deli-
berate ^abhorrence the principles of the Revolution  party.
" Dec. 26th. A letter came from Mr. Clarke, announcing the
intended East Riding meeting for the counteraction of French
opinions.  Took it into consideration and determined to set
off immediately in  order to attend it.  Occupied all the way
in preparing to make a long speech,  which proved all labour
thrown  away.  Saturday. The meeting went  off quietly.
Gentlemen numerous—they and the people pleased with my
appearing.  I  spoke for about five minutes;  and hardly
could more without appearing to show off, at least I thought
so then, though now I believe  I had better have held forth
for half an hour."
  But his hostility to French principles did not lead him to
abandon the opinions he had always held upon the necessity
of reform  in parliament.  After this  very meeting, he  joined
Mr.  Wyvill, the  professed champion of parliamentary re-
form, at the house of his colleague Henry Duncombe.
  The war which broke out almost immediately, led to the
first decided political separation between himself and Mi".
Pitt. It  was not without great  reluctance that  he brought
himself to oppose a minister, of whose integrity and talents
he had so high a value, and with  whom he had  so long
lived  upon terms  of the  most intimate private  friendship.
The difference between them arose gradually, and did not
ripen into open separation until the end of the following year;
yet even  from the beginning of the war he was not fully 
124
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1792.
satisfied with the conduct of administration.  Though  Mr.
Pitt's was not a " war system," yet he was in Mr. Wilber-
force's judgment too much guided in its commencement by
his  own  sanguine disposition, hitherto untempered by any
disappointment.  " It will  be a very short war,"  said  Mr.
Pitt  and  his  friends, " and  certainly ended in one or two
campaigns." " No, sir," said  Mr.  Burke when  this language
was addressed to him, " it  will be a long war, and a danger-
ous war, but it must be undertaken."  Mr. Wilberforce was
alive to its perils, but not convinced of its necessity.  " Not
that," he thought, " peace could be a state of as much security
as the term ' peace'  had  commonly implied, but  as  far the
less of two evils.  Though at the commencement of the war
I could deliberately declare that we were not the assailants,
and therefore that it  was just and necessary;  yet I had but
too  much reason  to know that the  ministry had not  taken
due pains  to prevent its breaking out."  In the debate there-
fore upon the King's message, which intimated the  necessity
of some military preparations in consequence of the murder
of the King of France, he had resolved to declare his  per-
suasion that it was the true policy of this country to continue
strictly upon the defensive; that the delirium which now dis-
tracted France would probably pass over by degrees, and
that she would then see the  folly of provoking a  war  with
Great  Britain, in addition to  the continental storm  which
was already gathered round  her.   "I was actually upon my
legs to open my mind fully upon the subject, when Pitt  sent
Bankes to me, earnestly desiring me not to do so that  day,
assuring  me that my  speaking  then might do irreparable
mischief, and pledging  himself that I should  have another
opportunity before war should be declared."
  The week passed away, and in spite of Mr. Pitt's  assur-
ance there had been  no opportunity upon which  he could
state his  sentiments.   By an incident to which  his whole
parliamentary experience could furnish no parallel, the  House
was compelled to adjourn  every successive day without en-
tering upon other  business,  because  there were not a suffi-
cient number of members present  to  make a ballot  for an
election committee.  Meanwhile  war was declared  by the
French against England and the United Provinces, and when
hostilities had actually begun, " I deemed it,"  he says, " the
part of a good subject not  to use language which might  tend
to prevent the unanimity which was so desirable at the out-
set of such a war."   Yet even  now he  was  not satisfied 
1793.
DESIGNS OF GOVERNMENT.
125
with the tone held by the administration.  " Feb. 12th.  Mes-
sage on the war—vexed  at  Pitt and Dundas for not being
explicit enough."   " Our government," he wrote long after
to Mr. Hey, " had been for some months before the breaking
out  of the war  negotiating with  the  principal European
powers, for the purpose of obtaining a joint representation to
France, assuring  her that if she would  formally engage to
keep within her limits, and  not molest her neighbours, she
should be  suffered  to  settle her own  internal government
and  constitution  without interference.   I  never  was  so
earnest with Mr.  Pitt on any other occasion, as I was in my
entreaties before  the war broke out, that he would  declare
openly  in the House of Commons, that he had been, and
then was, negotiating this treaty.   I urged on him that the
declaration  might possibly  produce an  immediate effect in
France, where it  was manifest  there prevailed an  opinion
that we were meditating  some  interference with their inter-
nal affairs, and the  restoration  of Louis  to his throne.  At
all events, I hoped that  in  the first lucid  interval  France
would see how little reason there was for continuing the
war with  Great Britain;  and, at least, the declaration must
silence all but the most determined  oppositionists in this
country. How far this expectation would have been realized
you may estimate by Mr. Fox's language, when Mr. Pitt, at
my instance, did make the  declaration  last winter (1799).
' If,' he said, ' the right hon. gentleman had made the decla-
ration now delivered, to France, as well as to Russia, Aus-
tria, and Prussia, I  should have nothing more to say or to
desire.' "
   Yet  while  he  condemned impartially the  errors of the
minister,  he was ready to  defend  him  from all unmerited
censure.
   Now that the war had actually commenced, and  circum-
stances had thus prevented his  openly  opposing Mr.  Pitt,
according to his  general   rule  he supported the  King's
 government whenever he was able.  His mode  of life was
 much what has been described  in the  preceding  year.  Re-
 tiring often to Clapham for  solitude; " the  very prospect of
 which," he says, "even for a single  afternoon, evidently
 mends me, fixing and solemnizing my mind;" and cultivat-
 ing more  and more the company of those who lived habi-
 tually in the fear of God, he maintained his usual intercourse
 with general society.  " Venn  preached an excellent intro-
 ductory sermon—I received the sacrament and had much 
126
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1793.
serious reflection.  Oh may it be for good !  I renewed ah*
my solemn resolves, and  purpose to lay afresh my founda-
tions."  " Mr. Cecil came to dinner,  and tete-a-tete  with
him ;  having sent away Burgh for that purpose, according to
our social contract.  Much pleased  with Cecil—he is living
like a Christian.   Oh that I were like him !"  " I have much
the same  confessions to make as heretofore, yet I hope, on
the whole, I have  of  late read the Scriptures  with more
attention,  and preserved on  my mind rather  a  more  con-
stant  sense of God's  presence.  My chief faults to-day,
amongst innumerable  others, have  been,  a want of self-de-
nial, too little real respect for the excellent of the earth, too
few aspirations, impatience under provocation,  and not suffi-
cient  kindness  to my servants."   " Expecting Muncaster,
meaning  serious discussion;  when  sent  for  by  Henry
Thornton  to town, on the state of public  credit, &c.—then
to Pitt's with and for him.  A sadly interrupted day."  " To
Battersea  with the two Venns—they with me  all day—pro-
fitable conversation—Venn talked of M. the  backslider.  Oh
may I beware !"
  Early in this year he w7as again occupied with the conduct
of the Negro cause.   The session  of 1792  had  closed the
period which he has described as the first  assault upon the
Slave Trade.  The effects of the new tactics so skilfully in-
troduced  by Mr. Dundas, were  not  slow  in making them-
selves felt.  No practical mitigation  of the evil had been yet
obtained,  but in his  Resolutions the indignation of the coun-
try had found a vent and was rapidly subsiding into compa-
rative indifference.
   The decent delay afforded  by the forms of the House of
Lords was fatal to the progress of the question.  The enthu-
siastic march of its  ordinary supporters grew slow and
heavy;  the interest of the country manifestly flagged; the
excitement of the revolutionary war distracted the attention
of the volatile; the progress of French principles terrified
the timid; the seed which had been so freely scattered by
the revolutionary politics of some leading Abolitionists had
sprung  up into  a plentiful harvest of suspicion.   " I do not
imagine," writes Mr. Clarke during this  period,  " that we
could meet with twenty persons in Hull at  present  who
would sign a petition, that are not republicans. People con-
nect democratical principles with the Abolition of the Slave
Trade, and will not hear it mentioned."
   Yet during this darkest period his courage never yielded, 
1793.
WEARISOME DELAYS.
127
nor was his patient diligence relaxed.   He was early at his
post in the first session of 1793; and in order to hasten the
proceedings of the Lords by a new vote of the lower House,
moved, upon the 26th of February, the further consideration
of the Abolition of the Trade.   The principal opponent of
the measure was Sir W. Young, whose appeal  to recent ob-
servation  was not  lost upon the House; since in defiance of
the claims of consistency and justice enforced by the elo-
quence of the  mover, seconded  by the  seldom  united argu-
ments of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, it refused by  a majority of
eight votes to  renew its own decision of the preceding year.
  This defeat in the Commons was succeeded  by a post-
ponement of the business in the  Lords ;  where the advocates
for the trade in slaves were reinforced by the zealous and
avowed support of a member of the royal family.
  It had always been one part of the tactics of his opponents
to assert  that  Mr. Wilberforce grew  weary of the  cause.
As early as 1790,  he wrote to Dr. Currie in answer to this
charge: "I cannot help expressing my surprise at its having
been reported I  had  given up the business.  I attended for
the greater part of the last session the whole of every morn-
ing in the Committee of the House of Commons, receiving
evidence;  and we have printed, I believe, at least 1100 folio
pages.  In truth,  the principles  upon which  I act in this
business being those of religion, not of sensibility and per-
sonal feeling, can know no remission, and yield to no delay.
I am confident of success, though I dare  not say any thing
positive as to the period  of it."
  " Though I  cannot," he replies to Dr. Currie, " enter upon
the  topics contained in  your  letter, I must notice  one  of
them; that, I mean,  of my  being supposed to be, as you
delicately  express it, fainting  in my  course.  Nothing,  I
assure you, is  further from the  truth : it  is  one of those
calumnies, for such I account it, to which every public man
is exposed, and  of which, though I have had a  tolerable pro-
portion, I  cannot  complain  of  having  had  more than my
share.  In the case of every question of political expediency,
there appears  to me  room for the consideration of times and
seasons.    At one period,  under one set of circumstances, it
may be proper  to push, at  another, and  in other  circum-
stances, to withhold  our efforts; but in  the present instance,
where the actual commission of guilt is in question, a man
who fears God  is not at  liberty.  Be persuaded then that I
shall never make this grand cause the sport of caprice, or 
1'28
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1793.
 sacrifice it to motives  of political convenience  or  personal
 feeling."
   Upon the 14th of May he moved unsuccessfully for leave
 to bring in a bill which for  a certain time should limit and
 regulate the importations into  our own  colonies.   On  the
 same evening he  proposed the prohibition of the  trade  in
 slaves through  which foreign  colonies  were supplied by
 British merchants.  This motion he carried by a feeble ma-
 jority of 41 to 34,  but the bill wrhich he brought in and long
 maintained  against the vexatious opposition of incessant
 postponements, was lost at  last  upon its third reading.
   These measures were planned and carried on in the midst
 of many interruptions.  " Alas," he says,  " what a hurrying
 life I lead, with little time for serious reflection !"   " Some
 serious thought this morning, and found the benefit of early
 rising, but it sadly wears my frame."  The canal and other
 local business of his great county consumed much time. Sierra
 Leone was a constant source of trouble;  the causes of un-
 numbered private  clients pressed upon his  scanty leisure,
 while the general business of the House called his attention
 to the conduct of the war, the trial of Warren Hastings, and
 the question of reform in parliament.
   He was engaged at this  time in another most important
 effort.   The renewal of the East  India Company's charter
 afforded him an opening for attempting to improve the moral
 state of our Asiatic fellow-subjects. Since the reign of Anne
 a  deep indifference to  such attempts had settled upon the
 mind of the nation : he now attempted to arouse it from this
 long lethargy. After  having  " studied  the subject with
 strenuous and  persevering diligence," and consulted long and
 earnestly with the  Archbishop of Canterbury, the Speaker,
and his friend Charles Grant, he brought the question forward
in the House of Commons upon  the 14th of May, in the form
of certain Resolutions, which were agreed  to in committee,
and entered on the Journals.  These Resolutions pledged the
House in general terms, to the " peculiar and bounden duty
of promoting by all just and prudent means, the religious
improvement"  of the native  Indians.   Two days afterwards
he proposed specific  resolutions for sending schoolmasters
and  chaplains throughout India.  To these Mr.  Dundas
had promised his support.  " May J 5th. East Indian Resolu*
tions in hand, and Slave business, Lord Carhampton abusing
me as  a madman.  17th.  Through God's help got the East
Indian Resolutions in quietly. Sunday, 19th. Scott morning. 
1793.
PLAN FOR NATIONAL CHURCH IN INDIA.
129
Cecil  afternoon.  Called at Grant's—Miss More there.  The
hand of Providence was never more visible than in this East
Indian affair.  What cause have  I for gratitude, and trust,
and humiliation !" " My time is contracted and my eyes bad,
yet I must record the grace and goodness of God in enabling
me to be the instrument of carrying through  the East Indian
clauses.   Never was His overruling  providence more con-
spicuous than in the whole of this business.  Oh let me re-
member that Judas was used  as an instrument with the rest
of the twelve disciples, and that many will  say, ' Have  we
not prophesied in thy name,' to whom He will  answer, ' De-
part from me, ye workers of iniquity.'  This affair gives me
fresh  occasion to discover the pride of my own heart.  How
properly is  Grant affected! yet let me take courage.   It is
of God's unmerited goodness that I am selected as the agent
of usefulness.   I see His overruling power. I go to adore His
wisdom and goodness, to humble myself before Him, and to
implore His forgiveness for Christ's sake.  Amen."
   In  this, as in his efforts  for the Abolition of the  Slave
Trade, his Diary proves him  to have been influenced by the
conviction of having been placed by God in the station he
occupied for the purpose of promoting His glory on earth.
   The Directors of the East India Company opposed his
efforts, and in consequence  he lost the promised support of
Mr. Dundas.   The  following extracts from his Diary will
show the feelings with which he prosecuted  the work :—
   Upon "the 24th, House on the East India Bill: I  argued
as strongly as I could, but  too  much in my own strength."
" It is not meant," he said, " to break up  by violence exist-
ing institutions, and force our  faith  upon the  natives  of
India; but  gravely, silently, and systematically to prepare
the way for the gradual diffusion of religious  truth.  Fraud
and violence are directly repugnant to the genius and spirit
 of our holy faith,  and  would frustrate all  attempts for its
 diffusion. .  . To reject  this  measure would  be to declare to
 the world that we are friends to Christianity,  not because it
 is a revelation from heaven, nor even because  it is conducive
 to the happiness of man, but  only because  it  is the esta-
 blished religion  of  this country.  In India we  take  equal
 care of Hindooism; our enlarged minds disdain the narrow
 prejudices  of the contracted vulgar; like the ancient philo-
 sophers, we are led by considerations of  expediency to pro-
 fess  the popular faith, but we are happy in an opportunity of
 showing that we disbelieve it in our hearts  and despise it 
130
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1793.
in our judgments.   Beware  how this opinion goes abroad.
Think not that the people of this land will long  maintain a
great church establishment  from motives of mere political
expediency.  For  myself, I value our established church as
the means of preserving for us and for our children the bless-
ings of the true religion ;  and I well  know  that to spread
such a notion would be to inflict  on it  a fatal stroke."
  In spite of this appeal he lost all the practical  part of the
Resolutions he  proposed.   " My clauses  thrown  out—
Dundas most false  and double;  but, poor fellow ! much to
be pitied."   " The  East India directors and proprietors," he
tells Mr. Gisborne,  " have  triumphed—all my  clauses were
last night struck out on the third reading of the Bill, (with
Dundas's consent!! this  is  honour,) and our  territories in
Hindostan, twenty  millions of people included, are left in the
undisturbed and peaceable possession, and committed to the
providential protection  of—Brama."   " How mysterious,
how humbling, are the dispensations of God's  providence !"
was his own private meditation.  " I see that I closed with
speaking of the East India clauses being carried, of which I
have now to record the  defeat; thrown out  on the third
reading by a little tumult in the court of proprietors.  Oh
may not this have  been  because one so unworthy as I un-
dertook this hallowed cause, (Uzzah and the ark,) and carried
it on with so little  true humility, faith, self-abasement, and
confidence in God through Christ 1  Yet where can I go but
to the blessed Jesus 1  Thou  hast the words of eternal life—
I am no more worthy to be  called thy son ; yet receive me,
and deliver me from all my  hinderances, and  by the power
of thy renewing grace, render me  meet to be  a partaker of
the inheritance of the  saints  in light."
   Yet in  all his  continual employment he  maintained a
careful watch over his mind and spirit.   " I have this day,"
is  one of  his Sunday's entries, " been commemorating the
redeeming love of  Christ.  May this be to me the beginning
of a new era."—" How hard do I find it  to trust Christ for
all !  Yet this is that simple  faith, that humble,  child-like
principle, which  produces  love, and peace, and joy.  Oh let
me seek it diligently  whilst it  is called to-day!"—" How
much do I yet  want of the  enlarged philanthropy  and
purified affection (this consists  in the love of  holiness as
such, and  the  hatred of  sin  as  such, in ourselves  and
others)  of  the real Christian!  I have been  mixing a little
with worldly people: and their pursuits and cares and  joys 
1793.
USE OF SOCIAL INTERCOURSE.
131
do indeed seem most contemptible;  but it is not enough to
see this, I should be filled also with the love of God  and
Christ, and of all mankind for  his sake, with  a fixed desire
to please him and do all for his  glory."
   At length upon the 9th  of July he  got free  from London
engagements, and set off for Bath.
   Soon after  he was  established at Perry  Mead,  in the
immediate  neighbourhood, where he  and  the  Rev.  Mr.
Venn remained for about  three  weeks.  Such society,  and
comparative retirement, he valued highly, and sought  dili-
gently to employ to his own improvement.  " I have had,"
says his Diary, " Venn with me near a fortnight; he  is *
heavenly-minded, and bent on his Master's work, affection-
ate to all around him,  and above all to Christ's people, as
such.   How low are my attainments ! Oh let  me  labour
with redoubled diligence, to enter in  at the strait gate.  An
indolent, soothing religion will never support the soul in the
hour of death; then nothing will buoy us up but the testi-
mony of our conscience that we have fought the good fight.
Help  me, O Jesus, and by thy Spirit cleanse me from my
pollutions ; give me a deeper abhorrence of sin ; let me press
forward.  A thousand  gracious  assurances stand forth  in
Christ's  gospel.  I humbly pray to be  enabled to  attend
more  to my secret devotions ; to pray over Scripture, to in-
terlace thoughts of God and Christ, to be less volatile, more
humble, and more bold for Christ.
   During this  stay at  Bath, he began the execution of his
long-cherished plan of addressing his countrymen on their
estimate and  practice  of  religious duty.  " Saturday, Aug.
3rd,"  he says, " I laid  the first timbers of my tract."  The
Diary of this autumn  contains  frequent  notices of its  con-
tinuance ; and though  it was almost four years more be-
fore its  publication, it was from this beginning  that his
" Practical Christianity" arose.
   His  rare  conversational talents, once  so great a snare,
were  now regarded as  a means of fulfilling those high func-
tions for which Providence had  marked him out.   With this
view he entered into society, and in it he possessed  a talis-
man,  which even when he failed in his purpose of doing
good  to others, kept his own spirit from the benumbing in-
fluence of the enchanted scenes which he visited.  " I fear I
made no hand of it at R." he tells Mrs. H. More ; " nor do
I  think (to speak unaffectedly) that  this  was altogether my
own  fault, although I  am fully sensible that  I  might have
managed better.  But  though with Lord Y. I had some  little 
132
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1793.
serious conversation, (God  grant that the seed may remain
and  spring up hereafter,) I had no opportunity of any such
intercourse with the others; and I fear I seemed to them a
gay, thoughtless being.  My judgment prescribed cheerful-
ness, but perhaps my temper  seduced me into  volatility.
How difficult it is to be merry and wise ! yet I would hope that
even by this gayety, though somewhat excessive,  a favour-
able entrance may have been provided  for religious conver-
sation, if any future opportunities of  explanation should oc-
cur,  as I think they will.  You see how honestly I open my-
self  to  you.  But this is  the result neither of vanity nor
emptiness, but because I really wish you would perform that
best office of friendship, advising  me upon  the subject in
question, and telling me whether  I  ought or ought not to
endeavour to adopt a more staid  and  serious  demeanour.
It is  very useful for the regulation of our practice, to know
how our conduct  has  been understood ;  and if  it should
come in your way to learn the impression produced by mine
in the present instance, I  should  be glad to be made ac-
quainted with it.  I was at R. but two days, yet  I declare
to you I found the luxurious, dissipated way  of going on so
relaxing to my mind, that I felt it would have been dangerous
to stay longer without a special call."
  " Doubtful," he  says at this time, "  whether or not I ought
to go to Windsor to-morrow to take  the  chance of getting
into  conversation  with  some of the royal family.   Lady E.
may afford me  the opportunity.  Also I may do good to N.
and  H.   Yet I distrust myself; I fear my eye is not simple,
nor supremely set on God's glory in  this scheme.   Perhaps
I should do better to attend to my proper  business, and this
is Satan's artifice to draw  me off.   Yet on the other hand,
if any good is done it is great.  I will pray to God to direct
me.—Thought  over  the  Windsor  scheme and   resolved
against  it."
  " How little,  alas!  in the six weeks that have elapsed
since I  left this place," says  his Journal on his  return to
Battersea, "have  I preserved a cordial  love  of  heavenly
things, a true relish of their enjoyment, or a  practical sense
of their value.  This last week I hope  upon the whole has
gone on rather better; that I have  been more conversant
with  spiritual subjects and more  earnest in prayer.   Yet
what proofs do I receive of my readiness to enter into the
pleasures of dissipation when at such a house as Lord T.'s,
where it does not shock  me by the broad  stamp of vice ! 
1793.
PAINFUL CORRESPONDENCE.
133
Oh  may  I  by God's grace learn to  be spiritually-minded,
relishing the things of the Spirit, living a diligent and self-
denying life so far as regard to my weakly frame and  social
duties will  allow."
  Blaming  himself for having been of late less diligent, he
resumed  his plan of noting down the exact expenditure of
his  time during the two months which he now spent at Bat-
tersea Rise.  Here he describes himself as " reading Butler,
Barrow, Soame Jenyns, and the Scriptures,  and going on
with tract,  which I discussed with Cecil, who is now staying
with me; he strongly recommends it.   Let me not lose these
opportunities of converse with  such  men  as Venn and
Cecil."  " How many,  how great, how almost unequalled,"
he says, on the recurrence of his birth-day, " have been my
mercies! how many and  how great  my sins!  The good
things I enjoy, of God's providing; the evils I labour under,
of my own.  Let  me  press  forward with all  diligence, and
may God for Christ's sake quicken me by His Spirit.  I hope
I have been more  under the habitual  fear of  God, and  yet
how  little  do I live worthy of my high calling!  My time
has been wasted;  let  me labour to improve the talents God
has given me, and to use them for his glory."
  Abolition business now occupied much of his attention.
  Lord Grenville and Mr. Pitt had " confidently anticipated"
that the House of Lords would enter diligently upon the ex-
amination  of the evidence which they had demanded on the
Slave Trade.  For this examination it was of the greatest
moment  that the friends of Abolition  should  be  well pro-
vided, and  whilst there remained any prospect of it, he was
diligent in  making preparations.
  The conduct of the Abolition question involved him  at this
time  in an unpleasant correspondence.   It was no unusual
thing for those who had rendered assistance to the cause he
had so much at heart, to claim  in return his good  offices
with the King's government.   These he was always ready
to exert  when he  could do so with propriety.  But there
were times when he was compelled by what was due to his
own character to disappoint their expectations; and in these
cases the conclusion of the matter sometimes wore no very
amicable complexion.  A single instance which occurred
this year illustrates his command of temper in such circum-
stances.   Mr.----, whose devotion to the  great cause  of
Abolition had been indefatigable, was desirous of procuring
the promotion of his  brother to the  rank of captain in the
                           12 
134
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1793.
navy through the influence of Mr. Wilberforce.   That influ-
ence had been exerted as far as it could be used by an inde-
pendent man but had been ineffectual.  Under these circum-
stances Mr. ---- addressed  to  him a letter of complaint,
from which the following sentences  are extracts:—
  " My opinion is that my Lord Chatham has behaved  to
my brother in a very scandalous  manner, and that your
own timidity has  been the  occasion of his  miscarrying  in
his promotion."
  "I think Lord C. may be said to have acted scandalously,
&c.  . .  Yet, after all, my opinion is that my brother's mis-
carriage is to be attributed  to your own want of firmness.
I can have no doubt but you have frequently written to my
Lord Chatham, and this  with singular zeal and warmth,  on
the subject, but you have not, I apprehend, waited on him
often, or  insisted  on  his promotion  in  strong language.
He has told you of difficulties, and  you have been satisfied;
though other  persons with infinitely less interest than  your-
self have got promotions the next  day.   Will you tell me
that  if  you went to my Lord Chatham and insisted upon  it,
it would not  be done 1  Will you  say that  if Lord C. said
to the  Lords of the Admiralty, ' There are  many members
of parliament who  have this  young man's promotion  at
heart,'  that he could have been resisted 1   And yet you can-
not command your point.   I never  will  believe,  but that
your own want of firmness is the true reason why my bro-
ther  has not succeeded before.  You will observe that I give
you credit for having a great desire  of serving him, and per-
haps for having expressed yourself  by letter in his  behalf in
a stronger way than for any other man; but letters will not
do, and unless personal applications be made you will not
serve him."
  To these solicitations Mr. Wilberforce replied.

                      to-----.

" Dear  Sir,
  Your letter reached me when  in  the very act of leaving
Bath; where, after paying a visit to a friend by the way,
I  arrived on Saturday evening.  I find as usual an  accumu-
lation of packets, but yours claims the precedence;  and I sit
down to reply to it without delay.   To say I have read  it
without emotion would be to go beyond the truth ; but cer-
tain it is, that the perusal of it has  moved me less than might 
1793.
PAINFUL CORRESPONDENCE.
135
perhaps have been expected. The fact is, I am used to such
remonstrances.  It is the mode wherein  I am accustomed to
be addressed by people who, having for themselves or their
friends expected the favours of government in consequence
of my solicitations,  have  had their too  sanguine  hopes dis-
appointed or deferred: they always, like you, seem rather to
approve of one's delicacy in the general, but claim a dispen-
sation from  it  in their  own  particular instance.   This is
language against  which a man  must arm  himself who is
resolved to maintain his independence.   I am  always pre-
pared to expect it, and though habit has not rendered me
insensible to its selfishness, it makes me hear it without sur-
prise ; and yet, to speak  more correctly, I had thought you
in a good degree  exempt from this  common infirmity, and
from the esteem and affection I feel for you, it is not without
regret that I discover my error.   I am willing however to
persuade myself  that your tender solicitude for a beloved
brother  has beguiled you into the  adoption of sentiments
which  in your  cooler judgment  you would  be the first to
condemn.  I cannot argue the  point with you at  length, I
have  not leisure  for this, and  still less have I eyesight, for
I need not say this is a letter  wherein I cannot employ my
amanuensis:  but  I  will  suggest  those  principles on which
I rest the propriety of my conduct;  principles which seem
for once to have escaped your recollection.
   You  acknowledge, 'you have no doubt of my having
frequently written to my Lord Chatham, and this  with sin-
gular zeal and  warmth, on the subject.'  Again,  you ' give
me credit for having a great desire for serving your brother,
and perhaps for having even  expressed myself by letter in
his behalf in a  stronger way than I have done for any other
man :' but, ' I have  not,  you apprehend, waited upon  him
often  on the subject, or insisted on his promotion  in strong
language.'   ' It is my want of firmness  which is the true
reason  why your brother  has not  succeeded  beforehand,
'Will I tell you that if I had gone to Lord Chatham and in-
sisted on it, it would not be done,' &c.
   Now need I enter into a regular argument to prove the
vicious nature  of the principles on which all this proceeds 1
Principles which, however too much acted upon and even
sometimes avowed  in the world, I  must fairly  tell you I
abhor, have ever disclaimed, and will resolutely and syste-
matically oppose  and discountenance.   I think it really will
 be enough for you to read such  sentences in the hand-writ- 
136               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1793.

ing of another person to  become  conscious of their real
nature and character.   If indeed you saw me proceeding in
this way in other instances, if you saw me making favourite
exceptions  to  my stricter  rule,  you might have reason to
complain ; but you must, or at  least you may, know that
the reverse  is the fact, and that I have adhered, as I  will
continue to adhere, to my own system in the case of those
with whom  I  am the most nearly connected, or who most
warmly support me in my election struggles; . . a species of
obligation  this, which according to the plan of making one's
political situation subservient to one's personal convenience,
is held to convey a claim to a particular return.   To your
own mind let me appeal; I  am warranted in  so doing,  not
only by what  I know  of your  general sentiments, but by
what you  say  in this  very letter, of your having  been  and
your still  being prevented  from asking any favour of  this
sort, lest it should seem, if granted, to have the appearance
of a reward  for your  own labours.   Why are things thus to
change their natures and their-names accordingly as you or
I are in question 1 Why is that, which is in you proper deli-
cacy, timidity and want of firmness in  me ? Why are you to
have the monopoly of independence ?  Is it less valuable to
me than you, and less  deserving of regard, less suitable to
my circumstances, less ornamental to my  character, less
essential to my usefulness 1 Considering all the peculiarities
of my condition and  fortunes, is not this general  duty of a
public  man  more urgent in mine than almost in any possi-
ble instance?  And how criminal  should I be, if  I were to
truck and  barter away any personal influence I may possess
with some of the  members of administration,  which ought
to be preserved entire for opportunities of public service !
  " But I  will enlarge no  further on this topic.  Let me
assure  you, however, that strongly as I have condemned
Borne parts of your letter, I am obliged to you  for the free-
dom with  which you  have spoken of my own conduct;  and
though  you say, 'I shall not consider it as at all serving my
brother's promotion,' I believe you do me the justice to think
that it will not obstruct it;  in truth I may make myself easy
on this head,  because had  you not thought thus you would
not have  sent it, for it was not certainly  to  injure your
brother's cause with  me that you took up the pen, nor yet
solely for the purpose of sowing dissensions between friends,
or of wounding my feelings by  a useless attack on the  con-
duct of those with whom I  was living in habits of intimacy. 
1793.
PAINFUL CORRESPONDENCE.
137
Be this as it may, my line is clear;  I have, as you confess,
your brother's promotion sincerely at heart, and I will exert
myself for him as much as I think I ought, but I must neither
be seduced nor piqued into doing more.  I will say no more.
I  hope I have not said too  much: perhaps indeed 1 should
have been less warm, if the attack had not been made on me
in a quarter, where expecting only what was kind and affec-
tionate, I had  been the less armed  against  any thing of a
hostile nature:  but I was prompted to write  thus freely not
only because I thought it due to my own character, but be-
cause I wished rather to discharge  what  was in  my mind
than to let it smother in silence, as being less likely to inter-
rupt the  cordiality of our connexion ; for  unfeignedly do I
return your assurance of sincere esteem and regard.  We
have long acted together in the greatest cause which ever
engaged  the efforts of public men, and so I trust  we shall
continue to act with one heart and  one hand,  relieving our
labours as hitherto with the comforts of social intercourse.
And notwithstanding what you say of your irreconcileable
hostility  to the present administration,  and of my bigoted
attachment to them, I trust if our lives are spared, that after
the favourite wish of our hearts has been gratified by the
Abolition of the Slave Trade, there may still be many occa-
sions on  which we may co-operate for the glory of our
Maker, and the improvement and happiness of our fellowT-
creatures.
           I remain, my  dear Sir,
                      Very sincerely yours,
                                   W. Wilberforce.
  Battersea Rise, Aug. 19, 1793.'!

   His  neighbourhood to  London during this period of the
recess, enabled him to see more of Mr.  Pitt than had bee*
lately possible; and earnest were  their discussions  upon
public business, now that the spirit  of  that great  man had
risen to the exigencies of those difficult times.
   Even in his own  severe judgment of himself, he deemed
the greater opportunities of reflection now afforded him not
wholly lost.  " I hope I have gone on rather better,  that my
humiliation is now deeper, my  seriousness more  abiding,
and  that through God's  grace my purposes of amendment
will  be  more  permanent.  May God  strengthen  me for
Christ's sake.   Oh that by any means I might learn to main-
tain a humble, watchful, self-denying, loving frame of mind ;
                           12* 
138
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1793.
living above  this world, looking forward  to  a better, and
having here  fellowship with the Father, and  with His  Son
Jesus Christ."
  Upon the 22d of October he left Battersea Rise to pay his
annual visits at  Yoxall  Lodge and Rothley Temple; and
during the two  months which he spent between them, was
principally occupied in preparing the materials for  his  work
on " Practical Christianity."  Fuller entries  in  his Journal
mark this season of comparative leisure, and  their altered
tone shows in striking colours  the increasing power  of re-
ligion over his character.
  " I feel," he says, " a  deep conviction (mixed sometimes
with vague  doubts of Christianity altogether, not solidly
formed objections ! and  I fly from them) that  one thing  is
needful, and I humbly resolve to aim  high.   His strength  is
perfected in   weakness.   Oh tarry thou  the  Lord's leisure,
&c. Labour and strive earnestly.  How unreasonable  would
it be for me to expect, after having lived so long a lukewarm
life, to experience at once the power and energy of religion !
This scarcely ever happens.  But God's promises in Christ
are yea  and  amen.   They that  wait on the  Lord  shall
renew their strength."  " I have been praying with serious-
ness,  and considering that the  promises of  grace, and re-
pentance, and a new heart, and  strength, and peace, and joy
in believing, are  made to all that wait on God through Christ,
and will  be performed in spite of Satan's hinderances. Oh
may I be the  temple of the  Holy Ghost.  With what shame
do I discover  my worldly heart desirous of gaining credit by
my tract! I have been more diligent and self-denying lately:
I have found this morning the advantages of a little religious
solitude; (I have prayed three quarters of an hour, for myself,
my country, and friends, &c.;) let me seize proper occasions
for it, and not make my Sundays days of hurry : solitude
seems to give me over as it were from  worldly to spiritual
things."
  By the end of December he was again established in the
neighbourhood of town,  and was  soon obliged to lay aside
his tract for the  ordinary business of his  London seasons.
Finding many hinderances to that " perfection," after which
he longed, from the " troublous  stage upon which I am now
entering, I proceed,"  he says, " to frame a kind of plan for a
journal of my interior and exterior conduct, on which I pro-
pose almost daily to examine myself with a view to progress
in holiness, tenderness of conscience, and that watchfulness
Which  my situation in life, so abundant  in snares, particu- 
1793.
LORD'S DAY BILL.
139
larly requires.  This scheme is to be drawn up with a view-
to my most  besetting sins and temptations."   The results
of these times of self-examination  are regularly recorded
in a plan which extends through this and the five succeeding
years ; with  such  persevering  diligence did he watch over
his heart, and so strictly pains-taking  and practical was  his
personal  religion.
   He was soon engaged in parliamentary attendance; and
keeping aloof from party strife, regrets  often  " the violent
work," and " acrimony of debate," which characterized that
stormy period.  Though he still supported administration, he
was watching eagerly every opening  for peace; and " wit-
nessing with deep solicitude, and  not  without  some gloomy
anticipations, the progress of the war."  He was ever ready
in his place to maintain the cause of  morality  and religion ;
and took commonly a leading part in all discussions bearing
upon these points.  In this year, he supported  a bill brought
in by Mr. Mainwaring for promoting a stricter  observance of
the Lord's day ; and his  Diary notices, upon  this occasion,
" Much sparring with Courtenay."
   Early  too in the  session he was engaged in the Abolition
contest; moving upon the 7th of February for  leave to bring
in a bill to suppress the Foreign Trade.  Although this mea-
sure  left unrestricted the supply of  our own islands,  and
could not therefore impede their  cultivation;  yet against it
was  arrayed almost  the whole  force of the WTest Indian
interest.
   With  great personal labour Mr. Wilberforce succeeded in
carrying the Bill through  the House of Commons, after  four
divisions upon its three readings  and recommitment.  In the
House of Lords on the second reading it was  abandoned by
the ordinary friends of Abolition  (Lord  Stanhope alone re-
maining  firm) to the assaults of Lord Abingdon and  the
Duke of Clarence, and the second reading was postponed
till that day three months.  Lord Grenville consented to de-
 fer this first instalment to humanity until the  general mea-
 sure should be adjusted.   "As" for my Foreign  Slave Bill,"
 writes Mr. Wilberforce to Lord  Muncaster, " I have, I con-
 fess, no hopes of  its getting through  the Lords, yet I do not
 relish its being suffered to lie upon the shelf, and therefore I
 am half vexed at Grenville.   However, in all  the disappoint-
 ments of life of every kind, we must learn to say ' Thy will
 be done.'   Every day's experience serves more fully to con- 
140                LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1794.

vince me how little we can foresee what is best for the suc-
cess, even of our own  measures."
  The session meanwhile advanced, and he  was in " the
midst of hurry and turmoil;" "never  recollecting to have
had  so  much business on his hands.  Thank God  I keep
pretty well, though pulled down by my labours, and the un-
avoidable  irregularity  of my hours."*   The  effect  of this
necessary irregularity, in  the interruption of his times of
devotion, is frequently  lamented in his Diary.
  " What a world," he writes  to  Mr. Hey, " is this ; and
how different is the Christian life, how justly a hidden one!
Pray  for me,  my dear sir, that amidst  all  my bustle,  my
heart may be filled with  the love of Christ, and a desire to
live to the glory of God."  Yet though thus jealous of him-
self, he could not but perceive that his habits of self-govern-
ment were strengthened,  and that his prayers  were more
lively ; whilst in eyery interval of pressing engagement his
Journal  records,  " seasons  of fasting;"  " days  of peculiar
devotion,  and  receiving  the sacrament:"  and  " hours of
prayer at large; for God's mercy through  Christ;  for  all
Christian  graces ; for all my schemes ; for the poor slaves;
Sierra Leone ;  Indian missions ;  home reform ; intercession
for  friends;  for help to be useful to them ; for my country
at this eritical time; and for grace to  discharge all my duties
aright."
  His intercourse too with general society was  marked by
more constant watchfulness to  do good to others, by his
" preserving in it a more lively sense of God's  presence, and
labouring to conciliate  to religion, not to relinquish  it, and
assume  a  worldly character."  " Spent the evening at Mrs.
A.'s—declined playing  at  cards, (I had played there before,)
but  not austerely." " On Wednesday with  S.  tried at a
little talk.  Oh that my  desires were really more active!"
" I have stayed here to try to do good to I.; but how little
am I fit to preach to others !"  " Dined  at Mrs.  N.'s, to try
to do her good, but I fear it did not answer.  Better to call."
" Dined with  Cecil—he is a true Christian, the nearer he is
approached the better he  appears."   "Dined at T.'s with
Robinson of Leicester, Venn, and others; yet  nothing truly
serious:  a crowd  is  a  crowd  be  it of  whatever  sort."
" Dined  at Hampstead to meet Jay,  (the American envoy,)
his  son, &c.—quite Americans—sensible.  I  fear there is
* Letter to W. Hey, Esq. 
1794.
HON. JOHN JAY.
141
little spirit of religion in America; something of French,
tinctured  with  more  than  English simplicity  of manners;
very pleasing, well-informed men."
  Parliament having been prorogued, he spent the recess in
his usual visits to Yoxall Lodge, Rothley Temple and the resi-
dences  of other friends  in the country, devoting his time
during this interval of leisure to the prosecution of his work
on practical Christianity, respecting which his Diary records
many conferences with such friends as would  be  likely to
aid him by suggestions.  But as the period for  reassembling
Parliament approached  he laid it aside, giving his  whole
attention  to the state of  public affairs, and the continuance
of the French war.   Most soberly and gravely did he enter
upon this important  question, seeking first  earnestly  for
direction  from  on  high, and then  endeavouring to  form his
own opinions upon the fullest information  and most careful
reflection.  " I mean to set aside a day this week for fasting
and religious exercises; for seeking  God and praying for
political  direction, for  a  blessing  on my parliamentary
labours, on my country, and on  those who have  specially
desired my prayers.   May God for Christ's sake enable me
to seek in all things to please Him, and submit to His will-
to repress vanity, cultivate humility, constant  self-examina-
tion—think of death—of saints in past times."   " I find that
 I must as little  as is really right ask people to Battersea Rise
 to stay all night, as it robs and impoverishes the next morn-
 ing   I had meant this for a  fast day,  but it has been broken
 in upon  in this way.   I refused  to  go to the Wilderness,
 where Pitt and the rest  are,  to keep quiet; yet in this way I
 lose my time, and find  indeed that less is done at Battersea
 Rise than elsewhere, though more rational conversation on
 matters of business actually depending."   " To town,  and
 dined at  Palace Yard tete-a-tete with  Jay-heard openly his
 opinion in politics—a friend to peace—many American war
 anecdotes.   Then at nine, Pitt's  for political   discussion  ti I
 near one, and not bed  till near two.   Head and mind  full,
 and  could sleep  but very disturbedly."  " I am making up
 my mind cautiously and maturely,* and therefore slowly, as
 to the best conduct to be observed  by Great  Britain in the
  present critical emergency.  Oh that there were in our rulers
  more of a disposition to  recognize the hand of  Him who
 inflicts these  chastisements!   ' This  people   turneth not to
* Letter to W. Hey, Esq. 
142
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1794.
Him that smiteth  them,  neither do  they fear Me, saith the
Lord,'  is but too applicable, I fear, to the bulk; yet, I trust
and  believe, that we shall not  be given over into  the hands
of our enemies.   I beg your earnest prayers, my dear sir,
for my direction and support."
   The more settled aspect of affairs in France since the fall
of Robespierre gave him some  hopes of the possibility  of
an accommodation, and peace he deemed so inestimable a
blessing that no  possible opening for restoring it  should  be
neglected.  "Dec.  29th.   To town.   Dined Palace Yard —
Duncombe,  Muncaster,  Henry  Thornton,  Bankes,  Mon-
tague ; talked politics—agreed that I  would amend."
  It  was not merely his  unwillingness to join in  an open
opposition to his  early friend, which made him  slow and
cautious  in  arriving at this conclusion.  There were other
considerations which weighed even more strongly with him
than the personal suffering with  which his course must  be
attended.  He could not take this  ground without giving
some countenance  to a violent and unprincipled opposition,
who had throughout condemned the war with all the asperity
of party feeling.   He feared too  that he might increase the
popular ferment which,  wherever revolutionary  principles
had  been actually disseminated, was ready to burst forth
into  open violence.  He  knew, moreover, that he  could not
hope to carry with  him the mass of sober and well-affected
people.  They still  thought the war necessary, and regarded
all opposition to it as the effects of some Jacobinical tendency,
or party motive.   All these objections to his  course he had
well considered ; but having made up his mind to  the line of
duty, he had courage to face  them  boldly.   " Parliament,"
he says, " meets on  Tuesday.  I am going to London to-
morrow,  and I am  too  little fortified  for that  scene  of dis-
traction and dissipation, into wThich I am about  to  enter;
perhaps my  differing from Pitt, by lessening my popularity
and  showing me my comparative insignificance, may not  be
bad for me in spiritual things.  I  would now humbly resolve
to begin  a stricter ' course, as becomes me  on  entering a
scene  of increased temptations—self-denial, attention, love
to all, and good for evil;  in particular to bear  with kindness
the slights and sarcasms I must expect from political causes.
Oh may God enable me to walk more by faith, and  less by
sight;  to see the things  that are unseen.   Oh may He fill
my heart with true contrition, abiding humility, firm resolu-
tion  in holiness, and love to Him  and to my fellow-creatures. 
1794.
RESOLVES TO MOVE FOR PEACE.
143
I go to pray to Him, as I have often done, to direct me right
in  politics, and above  all  to renew my heart.  It is a proof
to  me of my secret  ambition, that though I foresee  how
much I shall suffer in  my feelings throughout from differing
from  Pitt, and  how indifferent a  figure  I shall most  likely
make; yet that motives of ambition  will insinuate  them-
selves.  Give me, O  Lord, a true  sense  of the comparative
value of earthly and of heavenly things ;  this  will  render
me sober-minded, and fix my affections on  things above.
   " Tuesday the 30th of December.   A disturbed night-
full of ambition.  How small things confound human pride !
why not such small things God's agents as much as locusts?
—worse this morning.  Prepared Amendment at Bankes's.
 Moved it in a very incoherent speech; good arguments, but
 all in heaps for want of preparation;  had no plan whatever
 when  I  rose."  The Amendment was  seconded  by his
 colleague Mr. Duncombe, who was followed by Mr. Bankes ;
 and  though supported  by  many who had hitherto  voted
 with  the  minister, it was  negatived  by a large majority.
 He moved it indeed under peculiar disadvantages ; fearful
 on the one hand of exciting popular  discontent, he was
 guarded and  measured in his  own statements ; whilst on
 the other, he was " forced to adopt an Amendment stronger
 than he himself liked, by the violent language  of the govern-
 ment."
   The painful consequences which he had foreseen, had at-
 tended his conscientious determination.   It was with no or-
 dinary feelings of  annoyance  that the minister had seen
 him propose an Amendment to  the Address.   There were
 indeed but two events in  the  public life of Mr. Pitt, which
 were  able to  disturb his  sleep—the mutiny at  the Nore,
 and the first  open opposition of Mr. Wilberforce;  and he
 himself  shared largely in  these  painful feelings.  Pie had
 lived hitherto  in habits  of  such  unrestrained intimacy with
 that great man, he entertained towards  him so hearty an af-
 fection, and the spring of his life had been  so cheered by his
 friendship, that it was with bitter regret he saw the clouds
 begin to gather which were to cast a comparative gloom and
 chillness over  their future intercourse.  " No  one," lie wrote
 many years  afterwards,*  with a warmth  derived  from  his
 keen remembrance of his feelings at this time, "no one who
 has not seen a good deal of public life, and felt  how difficult
 and painful it is to differ widely from those with whom you
* To Archdeacon Wrangham, December 20, 1820. 
144
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1795.
wish to agree, can judge at what an expense of feeling such
duties are performed."
  " Wednesday, Feb. 4th. Dined," he says, " at Lord Cam-
den's—Pepper and  Lady Arden, Steele, &c.  I felt queer,
and  all day out  of spirits—wrong, but hurt by the idea of
Pitt's alienation.  12th. Party of the old firm at the Speaker's;
I not there."
  Nor  was this the only painful circumstance  attendant on
his  present course.   He  promoted overtures for peace,
amongst  other  reasons,  because he foresaw that  the war
must ultimately become unpopular, and then that Mr. Pitt's
administration " would be succeeded by a faction, who knew
that  they had forced themselves into the cabinet; and feeling
that  they had no footing at St. James's, would seek it in St.
Giles's."    It was not therefore without pain that he found
himself repeatedly dividing with  this very party, and heard
Mr. Fox, in a friendly visit which he  paid  him at this  time,
express a confident  expectation of his speedy enrolment in
their ranks—" You  will soon see that you must join us alto-
gether."   For though he loved the frank and kindly temper
of this great man, and though he duly  honoured his steady
support of the Abolition of the Slave Trade, he regarded his
public  principles with a  settled  disapprobation, which was
never  stronger than  at this very moment.  The same rea-
sons also which led the  opposition party  to claim  him as
their own, rendered  him suspected by the bulk of sober-
minded men.  " Your friend Mr. Wilberforce,"  said Mr.
Windham to Lady Spencer, " will be very  happy any morn-
ing to  hand your ladyship to the guillotine."    And others
less  violent than Mr. Windham partook in  a great  measure
of the same suspicions.  " When I first went to the levee after
moving my Amendment,  the King cut me."
  Though  their strong personal regard for  him kept his con-
stituents  silent,  he well knew that  they disliked the course
his conscience led him to pursue.
  In this respect indeed he was exposed to difficulties which
no party  man can properly appreciate; for a party man  is
always immediately surrounded  by  those  who agree with
him, and  in their good opinion he can intrench  himself.   But
the politician who truly thinks for himself, and takes his own
stand, must be assailed with unwelcome judgments on every
side.   Thus whilst at this very time he generally offended
the partisans of administration by his Amendment upon the
King's  Speech; by supporting  the supply  of due resources 
1795.
INDEPENDENCE OF PARTY.
145
to carry on the war vigorously, if it must continue, and  by
defending the  suspension  of  the  Habeas Corpus Act,  he
equally irritated opposition.
  These trials were increased in his case by the expressed
disagreement of almost all those personal friends with whom
he most freely communicated  upon political questions, and
by the concurrent accounts they forwarded  him from differ-
ent parts of the country of the  disapprobation of his conduct
generally felt by sober-minded  men.
  Yet none  of these  things  moved  him.   The  trial was
indeed severe, but it did not shake his constancy; he calmly
and steadily adhered to what he saw to be the line of duty,
neither deterred by opposition, nor piqued  by unmerited
reproach into irritation or excess.  Upon  the 6th of Febru-
ary, whilst he declared his disapprobation of its more violent
expressions, he  again supported so much  of Mr. Grey's
motion as  tended  to  promote immediate pacification; and
throughout the session he  favoured every similar attempt.
During this anxious time he frequently laments the injurious
effects upon his spirit, of a life of such constant occupation,
and shows the watchful care with  which  he strove to miti-
gate the evils he detected.
  " Though I have been interrupted," he writes at Battersea
Rise,  " by Eliot's coming,  having  designed  to devote this
evening chiefly to religious exercises, (my own fault still that
I have not,) yet this is  solitude compared with London; and
how serious a  thing it is to look into  one's  own heart, to
think  of heaven and hell and eternity !   How cold am I, to
be able to think of these subjects with little emotion ! Excite
in me, O God, more  lively sensations, and  enable me to
awake to righteousness.  The seriousness  of spirit I now
feel seems favoured by this solitude, and I will try the effect
of often retiring from the world to commune here with my
own heart."  " I have  since" (a few days later) " lived in a
crowd, and too much as usual.  This last has  been a very
hurrying week, seeing many  people  at home, &c.   This
morning I have  been much affected—I fasted, and received
the sacrament.   Oh may I be renewed in the spirit of my
mind.   May this little recess  from the hurry of life enable
me seriously to look into my heart, plan of life, and general
conduct, and to turn  unto  the Lord with my whole soul—
what  can be too much for Him, who bought us so dearly ?
I go to prayer."
  " Easter Sunday.   What a  blessing it is  to be permitted
                            13 
146
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1795.
to retire from the bustle of the world, and to be furnished
with so many helps for realizing unseen things !   I seem to
myself to-day to be in some degree under the power of real
Christianity ; conscious, deeply conscious of corruption and
unprofitableness; yet to such a one, repenting and confess-
ing his sins, and looking to the cross of Christ, pardon and
reconciliation are held forth, and the promise of the Holy
Spirit, to renew the mind,  and  enable  him to conquer his
spiritual enemies, and get the better of his corruption.   Be
not then cast down, O my soul, but ask for grace from the
fulness which is in Jesus.   He came not to call the right-
eous, but  sinners; He was the  friend of sinners.   Look
therefore unto  Him, and plead His promises, and firmly re-
solve through  the strength derived  from Him, to struggle
with thy sins;  with all of them, allowing none  of them in
any degree; and to endeavour to devote all thy faculties to
His glory.   My frame of mind at this time seems to me
compounded of humiliation and hope; a kind  of sober deter-
mination to throw myself upon the  promises of the  gospel,
as my only confidence, and a composure of mind, resulting
from a reliance  on the  mercy and truth of God.  I have also
this comfort, that I  feel  love towards my fellow-creatures.
Still I perceive vanity and other  evils working;  but Christ
is made unto us sanctification, and our heavenly Father will
give His Holy Spirit to them that ask Him.   Wait therefore
on the Lord.   Wait, watch and pray, and wait."
  His own immediate cause was not neglected in the impor-
tant general  questions with which this session commenced.
It had formed one subject of discussion between himself and
Mr. Pitt, upon his arrival in the neighbourhood of London at
the close of 1794.
  He writes  at about the same date, to one of the  most
zealous and consistent friends of Abolition, the venerable
Archdeacon Corbett:—" I  cannot conclude  without a word
or two on our great cause.  Suffice it then to say, that I am
in no degree discouraged.  Great  efforts will  probably be
necessary, and at the proper time they will be made.  It is
my intention to move, next year, for Abolition  in January,
1796; and though I dare not hope to carry a bill for that
purpose through both Houses, yet, if I do not  deceive  myself,
this infamous and wicked traffic will not last out this century.
Let us all be active, persevering, unwearied, and trust to the
good providence of God, disposed at the same  time to ac-
quiesce in  His dispensations whatever they may  be." 
1795.       INTERCOURSE WITH PITT RENEWED.           147

  Conformably with these  resolutions, he  gave notice of a
motion early in  the  session for the Abolition of the  Trade.
On the 18th of March, 1795, he says, " There being no busi-
ness in the House, and Slave business approximating, I re-
solved to go down to Clapham to apply to it."  The  motion
was deferred until the 26th, and its result is thus recorded:
"Feb. 26th.  To town—Sierra Leone general  meeting and
afterwards  Slave  business in the House.  Said to  have
spoken  well, though less prepared than at any other time.
Beat, 78 to 61. Shameful!"   In opening the debate he briefly
referred to the arguments against the Trade with which the
House was now familiar.   He called upon parliament " to
suppress the greatest, the  most complicated, the most ex-
tensive evil by which the human race had ever been afflicted.
It had been proved to be the occasion of frequent and bloody
wars; as well as of innumerable acts of individual outrage.
It dissolved  all social  intercourse ;  it  armed every man
against his fellow,  and rendered the whole coast of that vast
continent a scene of insecurity, of rapine, and  of terror."
These  charges against the  Trade he established  afresh by
the evidence of the governor and council of the new colony
of Sierra Leone, and ended by a reference to the fast of the
preceding day, which a  national support of cruelty and in-
justice would stamp " as a  piece of empty pageantry, and a
mere mockery of God."
  Mr.  Pitt, in rescuing  the  cause from  the imputation of
French principles, showed that it was in direct  opposition to
those abstract propositions by which " the rights of man" were
maintained, and declared " that he knew not where to find a
more determined  enemy of  such delusions, than his hon.
friend the proposer of the motion."
  It was highly to the honour of  Mr. Pitt, that  his  zeal in
this cause had  suffered" no  abatement from  the political
difference which had sprung up between  himself and Mr.
Wilberforce.   All personal estrangement indeed was  soon at
an end. " Dined March 21st," says the Diary, at " R.  Smith's
.—[met] Pitt for the first time  since our political difference
—I think both meaning  to  be kind to each other—both a
little embarrassed. 25th. To Battersea Rise—called Eliot's
knowing that Pitt was there, and  that Eliot knew I knew it,
and thinking therefore that  it would seem unkind not to do
it. 26th, Sunday.  Venn, morning,  I had meant to be quiet
to-day, and had hoped  to  be  able to employ myself in de-
votional exercises, when after church Pitt came  with Eliot; 
148
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1795.
  and considering he did it out of kindness, I could not but
  walk back with  him.   He  talked  openly."  " To  Royal
  Academy dinner—sat near  Lord Spencer,  Windham, &c.
  —too worldly-minded—catches and glees—they importunate
  for Rule Britannia—I doubt if I had much business at such
  a place.  What a painted shadow ! It is not right for me
  entirely to abstract myself from the world ;  yet what a gay
  dream was this !  O God, do Thou for Christ's sake fill my
  soul with the love of Thee, and all other things will  grow
  insipid."
   The tone which he preserved throughout this period wben
 forced into opposition upon the war question, was calculated
 to soothe the  irritation which  such a difference must na-
 turally excite.
   So mild indeed was the spirit in which he acted, whilst his
 conduct was most decided,  that there were not  wanting
 some who asserted, that " there was a complete understand-
 ing  between himself and Mr. Pitt, and  that  his  opposition
 was only a pretext."  " The Duchess of Gordon  told me
 yesterday," he says on the 13th  of May, » that the Duke of
 Leeds,  Duke of Bedford,  and Lord  Thurlow dining there
 the other day, the latter said he  would bet (or did bet) five
 guineas that Pitt and I  should vote together  on my motion
 on Thursday for peace.  This shows he thinks there is a
 secret understanding between Pitt and me all  this time."
   But though thus temperate in the manner of his resistance,
 he was not beguiled  by rekindling friendship into any un-
 suitable  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  administration.
 Truth he knew  was to be valued above peace, and integrity
 of conduct above  the harmony  obtained by compromise,
 Upon the 21st of April, he gave notice of a specific motion
 upon the continuance of the war; and even  before this de-
 bate came  on, he was compelled, upon another subject, to
 oppose  the wishes of the minister.   Mr. Pitt at this  time
 proposed to raise the income of the Prince of Wales greatly
 above all former precedent.  Upon  the 14th of May he
 opposed this grant  in  the  House of Commons, in a speech
 which was warmly commended, and which bears, in the im-
 perfect record of the  parliamentary debates, the impress of
 that  high moral  tone and that graceful eloquence which ren-
 dered it so effective.  He dwelt strongly upon  the actual dis-
tresses and discontented tempers of the times ; and showed
that though in a rude and  barbarous age the Crown must
be supported by the magnificence of its connexions ; in a 
1795.
BATTERSEA RISE.
149
time of universal  luxury " it might win  to itself a higher
measure of respect and veneration  by a certain chaste and
dignified simplicity, than by  vying  with its wealthiest sub-
jects in the number of its retainers  and the magnificence of
its entertainments."  " It is more pleasing to me,  sir," he
continued,  " to express gratitude than censure, and I rejoice
thus publicly to declare the deep obligations under which we
lie to their Majesties upon the throne for their  admirable
conduct, by which they have arrested the  progress of licen-
tiousness in the higher classes of society, and sustained by
their example the fainting morals of the age."
  This renewed opposition produced no unkindly feelings.
  Though  he persevered in pressing a peaceful policy upon
the House, he was well aware that the country was not with
him.  He  bore patiently the  present  odium which attended
on  his  measures; and  within about six  months, had  the
satisfaction of hearing from Mr. Pitt himself that he too was
now convinced of the necessity of peace.
  After the close  of the session he  established himself at
Battersea Rise, where, from its vicinity to London, he could
transact county business, and maintain a useful intercourse
with many friends whom  he had  scarcely leisure  to  see
during the  sitting of parliament.  "  Old Newton breakfasted
with me.   He talked in the highest terms of Whitefield, as
by far the greatest preacher he had  ever known."
  He was  anxious to make use of his present leisure for
cultivating  habits of devotion.  " July 15th. Spent the day
in more than ordinary devotional exercises and fasting, and
found comfort, and hope some benefit."   " It  seems some-
thing providential that, wanting to devote the day mainly to
secret religious exercises, fasting, self-examination, humilia-
tion, and supplication for myself and others, I should be left
unexpectedly alone.  The result of examination shows me
that though my deliberate plans are formed in the fear of
God, and with  reference to his will, yet that when I go into
company (on which I resolve as  pleasing  to God) I am apt
to forget him; my seriousness  flies away ; the temptations
of the moment to vanity and  volatility get the better of me.
If I have any misgivings at the time, they are a sullen, low
grumbling  of conscience, which is  disregarded.   Although,
therefore, I am not  defective  in  external  duties to God, or
grossly  towards my fellow-creatures, but rather the  con-
trary, (though here no man  but myself knows how much
blame I deserve,) yet I seem  to want a larger measure, 1 st,
                          13* 
150
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1795.
 of that true faith which realizes unseen things, and produces
 seriousness; and, 2d, of that vigour of the religious affec-
 tions, which  by making communion  with  God  and Christ
 through the Spirit more  fervent  and habitual, might render
 me apt and  alert to  spiritual things.  My finding no more
 distinct pleasure in  religious offices  (vide David's Psalms
 every where) argues a want of the Holy Spirit.  This might
 not be inferred so positively in every case,  because different
 mental constitutions are differently affected.  Mine I take to
 be such as are capable of a high relish of religion.  I ought
 to be thankful  for this ;  I am responsible for it; it will be a
 blessing and help well used, and if neglected it will increase
 my condemnation.  Therefore let me cultivate my religious
 affections.   I think it was better with me in this respect
 formerly ; at  least I felt then more religious sensibility.  This
 was in part natural.  Yet let me  quicken those things which
 are ready to  die."
   Yet though he was  thus  disposed to condemn himself,
 his private Journal bears the clearest marks of an unusual
 warmth of spiritual affections.   " My eyes," says  an  entry
 of this time, " are very indifferent—tears always make them
 so, and this  obliges me to  check myself  in  my  religious
 offices."
   But while he watched carefully over the affections of his
 heart, no man's religion  could be  more free from that dream-
 ing unreality, which substitutes a set  of internal sensations
 for the  practice of holy obedience.   "This morning, (Sun-
 day,)" he writes,  " I felt the comfort  of sober, religious self-
 conversation.   Yet true Christianity lies not in frames and
 feelings, but in diligently doing the work of God.  I am now
 about to enter upon a trying scene.   Oh that God may give
 me grace, that I may not dishonour  but  adorn His cause;
 that I may watch and pray more earnestly and seriously."
   The scene of difficulty to which he looked forward, was a
 series of visits which he was about to  pay in  Yorkshire.
 Complaints of  the infrequency of his  personal intercourse
 with his constituents had been   forwarded to him by Mr.
 Broadley.   " No man who has had occasion for your parlia-
 mentary assistance in his private business, or who considers
 the part which you take in public affairs, can possibly accuse
 you of neglecting, for a  moment, the interests of your  con-
 stituents.  But all of them are not capable of appreciating
the real value of their representative, and some of them miss
the attentions  which  were formerly paid to them by  Sir 
1795.
TALENT FOR CONVERSATION.
151
George Savile, who attended at the races  and such other
occasions.  I think it would be well, if you would seize any
proper occasion which may arise, for your seeing as many
of your constituents as you can."
  Upon the 23d of July, he says, " Grant and Henry Thorn-
ton at breakfast,  and we discussed what  I ought  to do.
Yorkshire, in August or October?  Decided upon August.
  For Yorkshire he accordingly  set out,  and joined his
mother and sister at Scarborough upon the  28th of July.
  Upon the 4th of August he  began a set of  visits, which
carried him through a great part of the county.   His private
entries abound in striking remarks upon character and man-
ners,  and  show in the strongest light the care with which he
now watched over himself, and  sought for  opportunities to
do good to others.
  There were few who could resist his powers of conversa-
tion.   It possessed indeed  a  charm  which  description can
but faintly recal to those  who have listened  to it.   As full of
natural gayety as the mirth of childhood, it  abounded in the
anecdotes, reflections, and allusions of a thoughtful mind and
well-furnished memory: whilst it was continually pointed by
humour of a most sparkling quality.   In this particular, the
kindly,  though  somewhat grotesque, representation of an
author once before referred to unquestionably fails. Though
any one admitted to the society  of Mr. Wilberforce would
have  found him " full of kindness towards all," and would
have  witnessed certainly the workings of a  spirit which
abounded in benevolence;  yet the most transient observer
could not  have failed to remark also the continual  flashes of
wit, which lighted up his  most ordinary conversation ; harm-
less certainly, yet playing lightly over all he touched upon—
the sports  of a fervent imagination sweetened by a temper
naturally kind, and chastened by  the continual self-restraint
of a conscience which would not bear  the offence of giving
pain to any.  This was a natural endowment, and had been
one great  charm  of his early years ; but it was now care-
fully cultivated as a talent for his  Master's use.  It was this
high sense of its  importance,  which led him  so often to con-
demn himself. He was not contented to wait for the chance
entrance of profitable subjects of conversation, he was dili-
gent to make it useful.
  " I  have been dining out,"  says his  Diary, a few weeks
after  this time,  "  and  was then at an assembly at the Chief
Baron's.  Alas ! how little like a company of Christians !— 
152
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1795.
 a sort of hollow cheerfulness on every countenance. I grew
 out  of spirits.  I had not been  at pains before I went to fit
 myself for  company,  by a  store  of  conversation topics,
 launchers, &c." These were certain topics carefully arranged
 before he entered into company, which might insensibly lead
 the conversation  to useful subjects.  His first great object
 was to make it a  direct instrument of good; and in this he
 was much assisted by his natural  powers, which enabled
 him to introduce  serious subjects  with a cheerful gravity,
 and to pass from  them by a natural transition  before atten-
 tion flagged.  He was also watchful to draw forth from all
 he met their own  especial information,  and for  some  time
 kept a book in which was recorded what he had  thus ac-
 quired.  This watchful desire to make  society  useful saved
 him from the danger to which his peculiar powers exposed
 him; and he  never engrossed  the  conversation.  No one
 ever shone more brightly, or was more unconscious of his
 own brilliancy.
  How carefully he watched over himself during these York-
 shire visits,  is seen by numerous  entries in  his Diary.—
 " Aug.  9th.   This rambling life amongst various people
 abounds with temptations to vanity, forgetfulness of divine
 things, and want  of boldness in Christ's cause ; and  I too
 readily yield to them.  My health is not equal to  this vagra-
 rious kind  of life, and at the same time preserving and re-
 deeming time for  serious  things.   Oh how  much ought I to
 quicken the things which are ready to die ! This plan  was
 undertaken from a conviction of its  being right, but it sadly
 disorders and distracts me mentally."   His blaming himself
 for  want of boldness  in the cause  of Christ, is another in-
 stance of the high standard by which he tried himself.   For
 not only did he at the moment steadily discountenance all
 unbecoming conversation, but he took private opportunities
 of reasoning afterwards with those who so transgressed his
principles.   In this very visit he addressed at length by let-
ter, with plain and honest boldness, one gentleman  of great
influence, who (a  clergyman) had in his presence taken the
name of God in vain.
  "Aug. 13th.  This hurrying company life does not agree
with my soul.  How little courage have I in professing the
gos-pel of Christ!   How little do I embrace opportunities of
serving the spiritual interests of my friends ! How much in-
sincerity am 1 led into ! how much acquiescence in unchris-
tian  sentiments! I wish  I had  written  my tract, that my 
1795.
YORKSHIRE TOUR.
153
mind might be clear;  yet as all this more plainly discovers
me to myself, it may be of service.  If my heart were in a
more universally holy frame, I should not be liable to these
temptations.  Remember  they show your weakness, which
when they are away,  you are  apt to  mistake for strength.
Entire  occasional solitude seems eminently useful  to me.
Finding myself without support, I become more sensible of
my own wretchedness, and of the necessity of flying to God
in Christ, for wisdom and righteousness, and all I want here
and hereafter."   " A quiet Sunday is a blessed thing ; how
much better than when passed in a large circle ! My life is
not spent with sufficient diligence, yet I hope I do some good
by my conversation ;  and I thank God I this day enjoy a
more heavenly-minded frame than common. Alas! how ig-
norant are people of Christianity !"
   From York he passed on into  the West Riding, visiting
Leeds, Halifax, and Huddersfield, receiving every where a
cordial welcome, and  winning back by personal intercourse
those whom political difference had in any degree estranged.
   He spent three weeks at Mr.  Gisborne's, but the London
season was approaching.   " Oh, this vile meeting of parlia-
ment !" he writes to the  Speaker, " when we  shall have to
discuss again about governments capable of maintaining the
relations of peace and amity.  Poor fellow—Pitt I mean—I
can feel for him from my  heart, particularly on a Sunday."
   On Friday, Oct. 23rd, he set out early for town,  and when
he reached Palace Yard, " found  a letter from Pitt wishing
me to come up, hoping we should agree."
   On public grounds he rejoiced sincerely in  the  altered
sentiments which led  the minister to seek for peace, and to
his personal feelings the gratification was complete.  In pro-
portion to the pain  with which he had  entered at the call of
duty on a course of opposition, was the satisfaction of re-
turning to a  renewed career of  cordial co-operation.  All
misunderstanding was now gone, and both Mr.  Pitt and his
adherents recognised  the purity of principle from  which his
former conduct had arisen.
   With the autumn of this year  began the darkest period
of the  revolutionary war.   Though  the  arms of  France
were every where triumphant, yet it was not from them that
our greatest danger  arose.  An evil  spirit was  spreading
through  Europe, and the  enemies of order  were  but too
successful  in their  attempt to introduce French  principles
amongst ourselves. 
154
LIFE  OF WILI5ERFORCE.
1795.
  At  such a time it was most  important  that good men
should combine for the preservation of the country ; and on
public grounds therefore, as well as private, Mr. Wilberforce
rejoiced unfeignedly in that change of Mr. Pitt's views con-
cerning peace, which promised to enable them to act cordially
together.  Parliament  met upon  the  29th  of  October,  and
Mr. Pitt at once avowed his pacific inclination.
  The evil  humours  which abounded in the  state were
already drawing to a head.   The  King was violently mob-
bed on  his  way to open parliament; tumultuary meetings
were held in the metropolis ; whilst the most  inflammatory
publications were actively disseminated.—" Papers  are  dis-
persed against property.  Prints of guillotining the King and
others."  In this  crisis he deemed it  needful to arm the ex-
ecutive government with extraordinary powers'; and when
upon the 10th of November,  Mr.  Pitt  proposed to bring  in a
bill for preventing seditious assemblies, he at once expressed
his approbation of the step.  Being convinced of the neces-
sity of the measures proposed by Government, he laboured
to perfect their details.   On the 11th, he " went to Pitt's, to
look over the Sedition Bill—altered it much for the better by
enlarging." Upon the 12th he again maintained in the House
of Commons, in opposition to his colleague Mr.  Duncombe,
that the Bills did in truth " raise new bastions to defend the
bulwarks of British liberty."   He was still engaged with the
details of the measures.   " A meeting at Pitt's  about the Se-
dition Bill, after which supped with him and Mornington—
my advice—Pitt's language, ' My head would be off in six
months, were I  to resign.'  I see that he expects a civil broil.
Never was a time when so loudly called on to  prepare for
the  worst."  " How vain  now appears all successful ambi-
tion !  Poor Pitt! I too am much an object of popular odium.
Riot is expected from the Westminster meeting.  The  peo-
ple I hear are much exasperated against  me.  The  printers
are all angry at the Sedition Bills.  How fleeting is  public
favour!  I  greatly fear some civil war or embroilment;  and
with my weak health and bodily infirmities, my heart shrinks
from its difficulties and dangers."
  Yet thoughts like these could not move him from the  path
of duty, upon which he had entered in the fear  of God. " Let
me  look  before me," he  had said, at the commencement of
the  session, " and solemnly implore the aid of God, to guide,
quicken, and preserve me.  Let me endeavour to soar above
the turmoil of this tempestuous world, and to experience joy 
1795.         OPINION OF YORKSHIRE DOUBTFUL.          155

and peace  in  believing.  Let me consider what in former
years have proved my chief occasions of falling, and provide
against them.  Let me remember the peculiar character of
a Christian;  gravity in the House,  cheerfulness, kindness,
and placability, with a secret guard and hidden seriousness.
Let me preserve a sense of the vanity of earthly greatness
and honour."  This was the secret of his strength, and when
the prospect before him  was gloomy, " Put,"  he continues,
" thy  trust in God, O my soul.  If thou prayest earnestly to
Him,  confessing thy sins, imploring  pardon, and labouring
for amendment, thou wilt be accepted, and then all  things
shall  work together for thy good.   God protected me from
Norris, Kimber, and innumerable other dangers.   He is still
able to protect me, and will, if it be for my good."  Popular
odium could not  shake this confidence, and to the two Bills
he gave, in spite of all its threats, his  undisguised support,
until  they  were carried ; displaying at the same time the in-
dependence of his conduct, by  objecting to what he deemed
an unnecessary infliction of capital  punishment,  and speak-
ing strongly, on the 26th, in condemnation of a pamphlet on
his own side,  which he thought a libel on the House.
   The sentiments of  Yorkshire were supposed to be hostile
to these Bills.  Already were its freeholders  multiplied be-
yond all precedent by the increased numbers of the domestic
clothiers:  upon   their  support  the opposition  calculated
largely; whilst the friends of peace looked with some alarm
to the  discontent which a partial scarcity could  not but ex-
cite amongst  them.   " The Bills,"  wrote Dr. Burgh, " are
obnoxious in  this part of the world to an extreme  degree."
" The partisans of opposition," he adds, "have called upon
the high sheriff to convene a public meeting.  These  things
prognosticate a breach of that tranquil acquiescence, which
for some time has subsisted in Yorkshire; and if in York-
 shire, so hard to be set in motion, the public  mind be once
 expressed, we well know the sequel through all the rest of
 the  kingdom."  " The dissenters,"  adds  another correspon-
 dent announcing the intended meeting,* " have never for-
 gotten you for opposing the repeal of the Test Act, and I am
 informed  that they are expected to be there  in support of
 opposition."   In these expectations the high sherifft so far
 coincided that he deemed it  inexpedient  to convene  the
* Letter from John Naylor, Nov. 12th.
t Mr. (afterwards Sir) Mark Sykes. 
156
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1795.
meeting.  " The assemblage  of so  large  and  unwieldy a
body,"  he replied  to  the requisition,  " would only tend to
raise riot and discontent."  This decision  Mr. Wilberforce
regretted  greatly: and  when it was quoted  with some
triumph in the House of Commons as " a strong argument
against  the Bills," he declared at once that " he lamented  the
high sheriff's conduct, because it had  prevented a full, fair,
and free discussion of the subject."*  In spite of the trium-
phant hopes of his opponents,  and the gloomy apprehen-
sions  of his friends,  he trusted  in  the good sense of  the
Yorkshire freeholders.
  Upon the refusal of the high sheriff to convene the county,
the opponents of ministry had  privately resolved to call a
meeting, which they hoped  to  find wholly subservient to
their views.
  Together with the  announcement  of  the  meeting was
circulated amongst the lower class of freeholders, a stir-
ring appeal bearing Mr. Wyvill's signature :  " Come forth
then from your looms," was his  summons, " ye  honest and
industrious clothiers ; quit the labours  of your fields  for one
day, ye  stout and  independent  yeomen: come forth in the
spirit of your ancestors, and show you deserve to be free."
  The attempt would doubtless have succeeded, if the friends
of order had not roused themselves with a promptitude which
those who have reason on their side are  not always willing to
exert.   An intimation of what had  passed at York was  re-
ceived at Leeds in the course of Friday evening; and a few
active men instantly met together, and  resolved  that the in-
telligence  should be dispersed throughout the  West  Riding.
On  the  Saturday accordingly the freeholders of various dis-
tricts  were assembled; and it was  at  once agreed  to post-
pone all other business, and to respond to Mr. Wyvill's call,
though not in the spirit which he had contemplated.
  In London  of course the state of things was utterly  un-
known.  " When undressing at twelve o'clock on Saturday,"
says Mr.  Wilberforce, " I  received a note from Sir William
Milner,  saying that the York meeting was to be held upon
Tuesday next; but I had  given  up  all idea of going."   He
thought it quite impossible that a general  meeting could be
gathered on so short a summons;  and to attend  a party
council  of his  enemies would have  been manifestly foolish.
Yet his suspicions were perhaps aroused by the communi-
* Debate of November 27. 
1795.
FORCED MARCH TO YO-RK.
157
cation of a friend, who came to tell him that " something
extraordinary is certainly  designed  in  Yorkshire,  since
----was seen to set out on the north road this morning in
a chaise and  four."  Enough, however, was not known to
show that his  presence would be useful, still less that it was
so far  necessary as  to justify his travelling upon the day
which it was  his chiefest  privilege to  give up to  religious
employments,  until he was in his carriage on his  way to
church on  Sunday morning.   Just as he had got into  it, an
express arrived  from Mr. Hey and Mr.  Cookson, informing
him of all that had been done, and urging him at all  costs
to be present at  the meeting.   " I sent immediately to  Eliot,
and then went there.  He and  I, on consideration, deter-
mined that it would be right for me to  go; the  country's
peace might be much benefited by it."
   Sending back  therefore  his carriage  to be fitted for the
journey, he went himself to the  neighbouring church of St.
Margaret's . . . and  then  called on Mr. Pitt.  Whilst they
were still together, his  servant  brought word that his car-
riage  could not  be got ready  so soon  as  was  required.
" Mine," said Mr. Pitt, " is ready, set off in that."  " If they
find out whose carriage you have got," said one amongst the
group, " you will run the risk of being murdered."  So  fierce
had  been the spirit of the populace in London, that the fear
was not entirely groundless ;  and an appearance of the  same
spirit in the great cities of the north had led some amongst
his friends to  write to  him, that " if he ventured  down  it
would be at the  hazard of his life."  But it was not such
apprehensions which had  "  disquieted"  his thoughts; and
when once satisfied that duty called him, he cheerfully began
the journey.   "  By half-past  two," he  says, " I was  off in
Pitt's carriage, and travelled to  Alconbury Hill, four horses
all the way," two outriders preceding him; a provision then
essential to a speedy journey, even on the great north  road.
After a few hours' rest, " I was off early on  the Monday
morning, and  got at night to Ferrybridge.   Employed my-
self all the way  in preparing  for the meeting."  He had been
supplied by Mr.  Pitt  with  samples of the various works  by
which  the fomenters of sedition were  poisoning the public
mind; and of such  importance was his mission deemed,
that an express  was sent after him to Ferrybridge with fur-
ther specimens.   " Almost the  whole of Monday," says  his
secretary,  " was spent in  dictating; and between his own
manuscripts and the pamphlets which had followed him, we
                            14 
158
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1795.
were almost up to the knees in papers."  He  reached Don-
caster by night, and thence sent an express across to Leeds,
to announce his arrival to his friend William Hey.

                           " Doncaster, Monday night, near 9,
                                  Nov. 30, 1795.
" My dear Sir,
  You and Mr. Cookson together, loosened  my  holdings
yesterday morning, and forced me out of London  in the  af-
ternoon.   I have  made a forced march, which after a  hard
week is an effort, and, I thank God, have arrived thus  far
tolerably  well. I am going forward, and my present inten-
tion is to be at York about an hour before the meeting, un-
less my  motions  should  be  accelerated  in consequence of
intelligence I  may receive as I advance.  I trust you will
come  over, and if you do early  in the  morning,  we may
meet at Tadcaster.  I am deeply impressed with a sense of
the necessity  of bold  and decided conduct, but wish I had
had more time to  prepare for so trying a day as to-morrow.
Pray that I may be supported.   I hope and believe I am
engaged  in a cause pleasing to God.   But I must  stop.   If
any of my friends now absenting themselves  would go to
York, knowing of my intention to  be  there,  send to them
betimes.
  I will make no apology for  desiring  you may be knocked
up.  You who submit to it so often for  personal interests,
will not, I am sure, complain of it in a single instance pro
bono publico.  Kind remembrances.
                      Yours, affectionately,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  " On Monday," says a private letter of the day, " there
went through Halton turnpike above three thousand horse-
men."    Many came  from Saddleworth, a distance of near
sixty miles, spending  a great part  of  the night upon  their
journey;  and stormy as was the next morning, (Dec. 1st,)
they still  crowded the road  from Tadcaster  to York.   " It
was  an  alarming moment," says  an eye-witness, " when
these immense numbers  began to pour in, while as yet  we
knew  not what part they would take."  But by Monday
evening the supporters  of the government began to  feel
their strength.
  The want  of any  leader  of acknowledged  power was
deeply felt amongst the supporters of the constitution.  The
plans of the opposite party had been long matured, and their 
1795.           HIS UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL.              159

bands were marshalled under their appointed chiefs ; but the
friends of order had coine suddenly together, and there was
none to  take the lead  in their movements, or engage their
general  love of order in support of these necessary though
obnoxious Bills.  Just when this want was most acutely
felt, Mr. Wilberforce's carriage turned the corner into Coney
Street.   His  approach was not generally  known.  " You
may conceive our  sensations,"  says a  Leeds gentleman,
" when he dashed by our party in his chariot and four a little
before we reached York."  He was received with the same
exultation by the assembled concourse.   " He arrived," says
Mr.  Atkinson, " at about a quarter to eleven, amidst the ac-
clamations of thousands.  The city resounded with shouts,
and  hats filled the air."  " What a row," he said to his  son,
when quietly entering  the city thirty-two years later by the
same road, " what  a row did I make when I turned  this
corner in 1795; it seemed as if  the whole place must come
down  together."
   Leaving his carriage he pushed through the tumult of the
Guildhall, and soon appeared upon  the  hustings.   Here he
vainly attempted to prevail  on  Mr. Wyvill and his friends
to concur in an adjournment  to the Castle  Yard.   "He
hoped,"  he said, " to have met his opponents that day face to
face, and convinced them of the groundlessness of their pre-
judices, if they were not prepared to shut up all the avenues
to the  understanding, and  all  the  passages to the heart."
 But fair discussions was not their desire, and they refused to
 quit the Hall.  He  proceeded therefore without them to the
 Castle Yard.   " It was  perhaps the largest assemblage of
 gentlemen and  freeholders  which ever met in Yorkshire."
 " Here," writes Mr. Atkinson, " we had three good speeches
 from Colonel Creyke, Mr. Spencer Stanhope,  and Mr.  Wil-
 berforce.  The last, I think, and so I believe think all that
 heard  him,  was  never  exceeded.  A  most  incomparable
 speech indeed."
   "Up betimes," is his  own  brief entry of this busy day,
 " and off to Tadcaster.   There found all the West Riding
 was in  motion.  Got  to York  at eleven.   Kindly received.
 Guildhall—Castle Yard—spoke—interview with  Wyvill—
 his sad paper.   Thornton giving away his regimentals to the
 mob.    In speech, foolishly did not go more into length." Yet
 his speech, though shorter than he had designed, proved
 signally effective.   Mr.  Wyvill did not hesitate to attribute 
160
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1795.
the decision of the county to  his personal efforts and in-
fluence.
   The issue of this effort is well worthy of remark.   His
success had been complete; and it was the manifest reward
of an unflinching obedience to the dictates of his conscience.
When he left London, he was entirely ignorant of the temper
of the great  towns  in  the West Riding: his  friends  had
warned him to expect their opposition ;  and this would  cer-
tainly have cost him  his seat  at  the approaching election.
But he was determined to discharge his duty ; and he re-
turned beyond  all expectation at the very highest wave of
popular  applause,  and safe from all possibility of rivalry.
" I never saw you  but once," wrote a constituent long after-
wards, " and that day you won my heart, and every honest
heart in the county.   It was at the York meeting.   I never
felt the power of eloquence until  that day.  You made my
blood tingle with delight.   The contrast of your address,
and the mellow tone of your voice, of which not one single
word  was lost to the hearers, with the bellowing, screaming
attempts at speaking in some  others, was most wonderful.
You breathed energy and vigour into  desponding souls of
timid loyalists,  and sent  us home  with joy and  delight."
Not less worthy of remark is the quiet  thankfulness which
threw a grace over his triumph.   " With him," he told  Mr.
Hey, " it was matter of thankfulness to God that the enemies
of peace and public  order  had been so discomfited.   For
myself, I should be thankful to  have been so far honoured as
to have  been made in  any measure the instrument of the
goodness of Heaven."
  The successful issue of the meeting he had communicated
to Mr. Pitt the same evening by express ; and on the fol-
lowing morning he set off himself for London.
  His use of this success is a good illustration of that single-
ness of aim which enabled  him to effect so much.   Instead
of seeking  to reap from it any personal advantage, he  em-
ployed it in the cause of his African clients.  Recent events
in the West Indies had revived the old charge that the friends
of the negro race were Jacobins at heart.  The government
of France,  finding it impossible to resist the naval force of
England, attempted in despair  to raise  against it the whole
black  population.   For  this purpose she enfranchised  her
own negroes ; and sent the ferocious  Victor Hugues to pro-
claim  freedom and enforce  rebellion amongst the  English
colonies.  The flame was soon kindled in Grenada, Dominica 
1795.
EFFORTS FOR ABOLITION.
161
 and St. Vincent's ; to them  the opponents of the Abolition
 pointed with no little triumph ;  and quoted, as the fulfilment
 of their  worst prophecies, the outrages which here walked
 hand in hand  with negro liberation.   It was undoubtedly a
 fearful sight which was presented by these miserable islands;
 and  there were not wanting those amongst the honest friends
 of Abolition who thought that the question  should be let to
 rest  till some  more  peaceful  season.   Nothing short of his
 indisputable  attachment to  the constitution could at this
 moment have  enabled Mr. Wilberforce  to persevere.   And
 there never was  a happier moment for renewing his exer-
 tions, than in his  present hour of civic triumph.
  Upon the 15th of  December, he gave notice that early in
 the following session  he would propose  his motion, remind-
 ing the House at  the same time that the first day of the ap-
 proaching year had been the  period named in 1792, for the
 termination of the Trade.  " And now," he added, " when
 we  are checking the progress of licentiousness,  now is
 the very time  to  show  our true principles,  by stopping  a
 practice which violates all the real rights of human nature."
  Meanwhile the  Christmas recess brought him a short sea-
 son  of repose.   " The  last fortnight or  three  weeks,"  he
 says  on  the  clay of the adjournment,  " have been severe
 trials to a man weakly like me; and I have lost  ground  in
 health which I must recover.  I have kept rather bad hours.
 In my religious frame, I hope, better than sometimes ;  more
 reading the Scripture.  Much occupied in writing—oppress-
 ed with letters about the petitions."
  Battersea Rise  was his head-quarters  during this recess;
 and  the entries in his Diary  prove  the  entire occupation of
 his time and  talents for the good of his fellow-men, and the
 promotion of the gloiy of God.
  Friday after Christmas, he  resolved "to set apart chiefly
for religious exercises ;  fasting in  my way, i. e. being very
 moderate in food, which  only does with  me.   I cannot em-
 ploy it so entirely, because I have some business about the
poor which will not bear any delay.   My chief reasons for a
day of secret prayer are, 1st,  That the state of public affairs
is very critical, and calls for  earnest deprecation of the Di-
 vine displeasure.  2dly,  My station in life  is a very difficult
one,  wherein I am at a loss to know how to act.  Direction
therefore should  be  especially  sought  from  time to  time.
 3dly, I have  been graciously  supported in  difficult situa-
tions of a  public nature.  I have gone out and returned home
                          14' 
162
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1796.
in safety : my health  has not suffered from  fatigue: and
favour and a  kind  reception have attended me.   I would
humbly hope, too, that what I am now doing is a proof that
God has not withdrawn His Holy Spirit from me.  I am co-
vered with mercies.  Return then unto thy rest, O my soul, for
the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.  16th, Morning felt
the fragrant impression of yesterday."
   Towards the conclusion of the recess he spent  " a day at
Holwood.  Morning walked with Pitt.   He very kind,  open
and fair about peace, and I think wise too."
   Parliament met upon the 2d of February, and on the 18th he
moved for leave to bring in a Bill to abolish the Slave Trade
in a time to be limited, fixed afterwards to March  1st,  1797.
He "opened the business," he says, " coldly and indifferent-
ly," but was roused by the debate which was unusually ani-
mated, and in  his reply spoke " warmly and well."
   Nothing, he urged, would so  much check Victor Hugues,
and retard the progress of French principles, as to suspend
the importation  of fresh  slaves, and thereby withhold the
raw material of sedition.  Yet  with indefatigable perseve-
rance  Mr. Jenkinson declared, " I anxiously wish that the
question were postponed  at least  till  the return of peace."
" There is something," he replied, " not a little provoking in
the dry, calm  way in which gentlemen are apt to speak  of
the sufferings of  others.   The question suspended !  Is the
desolation of wretched Africa suspended 1 Are all the com-
plicated miseries of this atrocious Trade—is the work of
death suspended 1  No, sir, I will not delay this motion, and
I call upon the House not to insult the forbearance of Hea-
ven by delaying this tardy act of justice."
   " On Monday, Feb. 22d," says the Diary, " crossed from
dinner, and finding the House  in  a good state  brought  in
Slave Bill without  opposition, and recrossed."   He did not
long continue unopposed.   The 3d of March was fixed for
the second reading, and  after a  morning spent upon the
Bill at Mr. Pitt's, he was  dining in Palace Yard with a party
of his House of Commons friends, when early in the evening
a supporter of the Slave Trade moved the second reading of
his Bill, hoping by this manoeuvre to prevent its further pro-
 gress.   His  watchfulness  defeated the attempt.   " Hurried
from dinner at home over to House, to the second reading
 of the Slave Bill.  Spoke against time till many came.  Car-
 ried it 63 to 31."
    On the  7th the  Bill  was committed.   But at the third 
1796.              EFFORT FOR QUAKERS.               163

reading these fresh hopes were again disappointed.  " Dined
before  House.  Slave Bill thrown out by 74 to 70, ten or
twelve of those who had supported me absent in the coun-
try, or on pleasure.   Enough at the Opera to have carried
it.  Very much vexed and incensed at our opponents."
  His own heart was sickened at seeing this great  cause
thus sacrificed to the carelessness of lukewarm friends, and
the  intrigues of interested  enemies.   " I  am  permanently
hurt," he says, " about the Slave  Trade."  His own  atten-
tion  to the  cause was of another character.  " The Slave
Trade  is coming on," he wrote at this time to a friend whom
he had  engaged to visit,  " and every thing must give  place
to the House of Commons."
  Before the close of the session he wras confined entirely to
the house by a very serious illness.   " I  have been indis-
posed," he says,  " for  ten days,  and  have had  my head a
good deal weakened.  My mind  has,  I thank God, been in
an easy, tranquil state, reposing on the promises with a con-
sciousness of deep  demerit, yet  trusting  in God's mercy
through Christ.  I trust He  will not spurn such a one from
Him.  I have lately felt and  now feel a sort of terror on re-
entering the world."
  His  friends looked forward with great apprehension to
the fatigue of the approaching election; and  he had already
written word  to Yorkshire that  " his state  of  health must
be his  apology for not canvassing."  Yet though  " unable to
stay through the night," and suffering from even occasional
attendance, he could not be persuaded to give up his labours
in the House of Commons. " 13th. In  bed, under Pitcairne's
advice.  15th. Getting better, but still not capable of apply-
ing—so do not attempt it.   16th.  Got out for the first time
in the middle of the day.  18th. Saw  Adair about Quakers'
business. He (at length) to move and I to  second.   25th.
Lay down in the morning—very  faint and weak.  Pitt and
Dundas  called, but  could  not  see them.   Got Adair to put
off his motion.   26th. House—Adair's Bill about Quakers."
To this subject his attention had  been called by one of his
constituents—" When you have abolished the Slave Trade,
pray think of the poor Friends in York Castle for the non-
payment of their tithes."  The relief given by the present
Bill consisted of two parts ;  first providing for the summary
recovery of tithes without the vexation of the present law ;
and secondly allowing their simple affirmation to be received 
164
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1796.
 as evidence in criminal as well as civil causes.  It passed
 the House of Commons upon the 10th of May.
    But his main business in the House until the close  of the
 session  was the Slave-carrying Bill ; into which he endea-
 voured to insert such additional restrictions as should raise
 the price, and so promote  the better  treatment,  of the tra-
 der's miserable cargo.
   The success of our West Indian expeditions had disposed
 Mr. Pitt to adopt Dundas's system of colonial  acquisition.
 This fatal  policy Mr. Wilberforce laboured to oppose; and
 he gladly therefore seized an opportunity of confidential in-
 tercourse afforded by the termination  of the session.  On the
 day after the prorogation they went together " tete-a-tete to
 Cambridge.  Dined at Chesterford—much  talk—Pitt's con-
 versation determined me to go off to attend to Beverley and
 Hull."
   At Brigg he complains that there was " no service on the
 Sunday  morning, and  the people  sadly lounging  about.
 Stanhope filling my head with election matters."   " I was in
 hopes of a day of religious  retirement  before my bustle, but
 God has ordered it otherwise.   I fear I have been too ready
 to  enter into election  matters;  yet I  feel the emptiness of
 worldly  things,  and am, I trust, this day in some degree
 thirsting after the water of life."  " Alas,  what earnestness
 do I see around me to secure  a transitory interest! what
 carelessness  when eternity is in question !"  « Let me  pray
 earnestly for grace to stand firm within, amidst all the tur-
 moil into which I am about to enter.   How much vanity
 have I felt in myself from  the situation in which I stand in
 the county ! It is all the unmerited mercy of God—can I be
 vain ?  I go to earnest  prayer, and  would endeavour after
 dedication  of myself to God  in Christ through the  Holv
 Spirit."                                               J
  Early on Monday morning he arrived at Hull.  " To the
 Bench with Samuel Thornton.  He sure, and all sure fol-
 ium."
  It was now time  that he should attend to his own elec-
tion, and he set " off" accordingly » for York through Bever-
ley—saw Bernard, found all friendly, and he told me that he
had not seen  one single freeholder who was against me  Got
into Philip Langdale's chaise to Weighton—dined in the car-
nage, and on to York."  His colleague had for some months
determined to retire.   Three candidates came forward to
contest the seat which he had vacated, all men of wealth and 
1796.
CONTEST FOR VORKSH1RE.
165
influence; and though  none of them opposed  Mr. Wilber-
force, yet their struggle would of course involve him in the
trouble  and expense  of  a contested election.   He was re-
ceived at York with the most  hearty greeting; and assu-
rances of universal support  poured in from every quarter.
A friend writes,  " ' are you  for Wilberforce V is the first
question generally asked at  Leeds; and he would  have  a
sorry life of it hereabouts, who would undertake to canvass
without making you a  sine qua non."
   On Sunday, May the  29th, after having attended public
worship in the Minster, he withdrew his thoughts from the
bustling scene around him, to commune with himself. " This
last has been a very hurrying week, little  time for devotion
and Scripture neglected,  for which  I ought to have found
time. But I thank God that I hope I  have desired and wished
for a quiet opportunity of communing with Him and my own
heart, and to-day I adore with some degree of gratitude that
gracious Providence which has led  me all  my days in ways
that  I  knew not, and has given me so much favour with
men.  It is His work.  His be the glory. I hope I  really feel
how entirely it is His  doing ;  that I have nothing of which I
can boast or be  proud; that it is what I  could never have
effected by my own counsels or might.   Oh may I be  ena-
bled to be grateful, (duly I cannot be,) and to devote myself
first  to  God's glory,  and  then  diligently to the  service  of
those constituents who are so kind  to me."
   The  election was to follow in a week, and he gladly with-
drew himself from York to the quiet of the country.  " Tra-
velled to Creyke's, who had been very kind, and pressed me.
Felt excessively comfortable, from calm after fortnight's tur-
bulence and  bustle.   Much  pleased  with Creyke's family
peace and rationality." " I have had hurried devotions late-
ly, and scarce any scripture reading, yet in general my mind
in better frame than sometimes.  Much fatigue—little or  no
 anxiety about these things—grateful,  I trust, to God."
    Upon the 7th  of June he was " earlyish at York Castle,
 about half-past ten.    I  spoke  about  twenty  minutes  very
 well, and people pleased."
   This speech was in a  very  different tone from the  ordi-
 nary eloquence  of a county hustings.  " I should," he told
 them, " but feebly execute my task if I  were to attempt to
 give expression  to the various emotions of my heart. I trust
 that I may say they are virtuous  emotions; they are grate-
 ful • they are humble.   I feel deeply impressed with your 
166
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1706.
kindness; but above all, I recognize with thankfulness the
hand of that gracious Providence which has caused my cup
to overflow with blessings; which first raised me to an ele-
vation I could  never hope to have attained,  has enabled me
in some tolerable measure to discharge the duties of that im-
portant station, and disposed your minds to reward my ser-
vices with so disproportionate a share of favour.  You will
not wonder at  my being serious;  even gratitude like mine
is necessarily serious."
  His speech was followed by the chairing, always a tumul-
tuous scene at York.   " People whilst half down Coney
Street tore off the ribands from my  chair, and almost threw
me down—safely out.   Dined  tavern—about sixty-five or
seventy.  Mr. G.'s coarse,  indecent toast—I would not give
it.  Sheriff well behaved."  The secret of his hidden strength
is simply recorded in  the following  line:—"Home about
seven and prayed.  Much affected, and shed many tears."
  After some doubts " where to fix" himself " for the inter-
val until the meeting of parliament, in which time" he " hoped
to resume" his " book," he  determined upon Buxton,  where
he resolved " when pretty well, to apply vigorously to busi-
ness." Before fixing here, he made a hasty progress through
various parts of Yorkshire. His first visit was to his mo-
ther's house at Hull.   " She seems  to olden even now, but
better  than  when at Scarborough  last summer.  At night
my mother affected at parting,and whispered ' Remember me
in your prayers.' "
   From Buxton he writes to Zachary Macaulay, Esq.

                                    " Buxton, July 3d, 1796.
" My dear Sir,
   Whilst I was taking a contemplative walk this  morning,
I rambled in  thought  to Sierra Leone,  and my mind was
naturally led to consider the  providential  dispensations of
that Almighty  Being, whose infinitely complicated plan em-
braces  all his  creatures,  and  who  especially leads,  and
directs, and supports all those who in their different walks
through this multifarious maze of life, are pursuing in His
faith and fear  the objects which he has respectively assigned
them.   Here they often know  little of each other, but they
are all members of the same community, and at length they
shall be all collected into one family ;  and peace,  and love,
and joy, and perfect unalloyed friendship, shall reign without
intermission or ..abatement.  Perhaps you will then intro- 
1796.
LETTER TO HANNAH MORE.
167
duce me to some of your sable subjects, whom I never shall
see in this world; and I may bring you personally acquaint-
ed with others, to whom  I have talked of your labours and
sufferings in our common cause. ' The holy church through-
out all the world doth acknowledge Thee.'  It  always pre-
sents to my mind a most august idea—the  praises  of God
arising from  every nation, and  kindred,  and people, where
His name is known, and blending, as they rise, into one note
and body  of harmony.   How much ought  this to stimulate
us to enlarge the bounds  of our Redeemer's kingdom!"

   His life at Buxton was, as far as possible, that  of a student.
" Wednesday.  Delightful weather.   Thorntons  went to Bag-
shawe's.  I declined—causa waste of time. Resumed tract."
And again, "  On my tract in the morning with  some spirit."
" Talking over my tract  with some friends, but do not find
much help from them."   " I  have this week read Scripture
(the Acts) constantly and seriously, and have had much new
light thrown  on them.  I have  felt at times, when walking,
&c. a sense of the  presence of God ;  bat in company have
been vain and gay, and I fear not duly attentive to the edifi-
cation of friends.  Oh how different am I from what I advise
others to be,  and how much like the lukewarm Christians I
am condemning!"  " I have great  reason,"  he  wrote at this
time to Hannah More, " to be  thankful for  getting  through
all the bustle  of  my election  so well.  It  wore, so  far as
trouble and expense went, a much more unpromising aspect
at one period.  As it was, I do not suppose it  will turn out
to have cost  me so much as £100; so you may draw on me
the more freely."
   " For the last month I have been drinking the waters  ot
 this place, and have received benefit.  I have here resumed
 my pen  which had laid quiet near two years, and hope, if it
 please God to spare my health, that I shall finish my work
 (I hate the term,  but don't know what to style it) tins recess.
 Seriously and honestly, you expect too much from it   I do
 not like  it so well as I did.  However, if God pleases, he can
 give the  increase.   I rejoice to hear of your going on pros-
 perously in  your  reforming operations.  You have  indeed
 cause for thankfulness  at "being so much  blessed in your
 endeavours.   What a  delightful idea is that, which I trust
 will be realized, of your meeting from time to  time in a bet-
 ter  world, those whom you have been the  means of en-
 lightening with  the knowledge of a Saviour, and the de- 
168
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1796.
scendants,  from generation to  generation, of those whose
hereditary piety originated under-your ministry!  'Ride on
prosperously.'   It is the contemplation of a scene like this
which  refreshes the  mind, when  wearied  by Archduke
Charles and General Moreau.   Alas !  no signs  of humilia-
tion.  God scourges, but we feel it not."
  The advice   of Mr. Hey had now  fixed him  for  some
weeks at Buxton, amidst a crowd of other visiters.
  Greater  retirement  would have  been  his choice.  He
wanted leisure  to complete his long-projected  work.   " Sor-
ry," he says when called to Hull by the  indisposition of his
mother, "to quit my tract, which  I wished  to  finish this
recess."  The   sight  of the  open infidelity of France, and
dissatisfaction with the state of things at  home, made him
more earnest to deliver speedily his  solemn protest  against
the prevailing standard of religious principle and practice.
  His Sundays  were spent  in comparative retirement; and
before he quitted Buxton, more  than one was specially de-
voted to a thoughtful review of  " the notables  in my life, for
which  I should return  thanks, or  be  otherwise suitably
affected."   "The singular accident, as  it  seemed to me, of
my asking Milner to go abroad with  me in 1784.   How
much it depended  on contingencies!—his coming to Hull
with his brother ; being known to my  grandfather; distin-
guishing himself, &c.  If he had been as ill as he was after-
wards, or if 1 had known his character, we should not have
gone together.   Doddridge's '  Rise and Progress'  having
fallen in my way so  providentially whilst  abroad, given  by
Unwin to Mrs.  Smith, thence coming to Bessy, and  by her
taken abroad.   My being raised to my present situation just
before I became acquainted with the  truth, and one year and
a half before I in any degree experienced its power.   This,
humanly speaking, would  not  have taken  place afterwards.
What  a mercy to have been  born an  Englishman, in the
eighteenth  century,  of decently  religious  parents,  with a
fortune, talents, &c.!  Even Gibbon felt thankful for  this;
and shalt not thou praise the Lord,  O my  soul 1  My being
providentially engaged in  the Slave Trade business.  I  re-
member well how it was—what an  honourable  service !
How often protected  from evil and danger! kept from Nor-
ris's  hand, and Kimber's .  . furious West Indians .  . two
whole seasons together.   Rolleston—and my coming away
from Bath so providentially—the challenge  never cleared up.
My illness in the spring, which  might have been fatal, well 
1796.
TABLE TALK.
169
recovered from.  My going into Yorkshire in  the  winter.
My election over with little trouble and expense."
  This enumeration is succeeded  by a catalogue of  various
causes for humiliation, collected by a careful scrutiny of his
past life. " And now," he ends, " I can only throw myself upon
the infinite compassion of Christ, and rely on His effectual
grace.   I am in myself most  weak  and vile.  But do not I
owe all  to  the  goodness of God 1  It is thou, O Lord,  that
hast given the very small increase there has been, and  that
must give all if there be more."
  The war was now becoming universally unpopular. " Let-
ter from Pitt about a direct treaty with Paris, Spanish  war,
«fec." cut short his stay at Buxton.  " Off  early (Sept. 15th)
for London, though grieved to pass Yoxall Lodge without a
call.  Prompted by the possible hope of doing good in press-
ing Pitt to peace—not  to stipulate for  islands—perhaps in-
clude Slave Trade in treaty."
   Though he was full  of  business all this autumn, yet he
mixed as much as usual in society ; and his private memo-
randa of this date record some heads of interesting conver-
sations.  " Friday. Lord St.  Helen's  dined with  me tete-a-
tete—pleasant  day—free conversation—much  politics and
information."
   " Franklin signed the Peace  of  Paris in his old  spotted
velvet coat (it  being the time of a court  mourning, which
rendered it more particular).   What,  said Lord St.  Helen's,
is the meaning of that harlequin coat ?  It is that in which he
was abused  by  Wedderburne."   "He showed much ran-
cour and personal enmity  to this country—would not grant
the common passports for trade, which however easily got
from Jay or Adams."
   Being engaged to dine with the Solicitor-General, " I felt,"
 says the Diary,  " but  moderate, and from regard to to-mor-
 row, when I wished to be  in a good state for God's service,
 I sent  an excuse." On Sunday, " I  was asked to dine at
 Lord Hood's ; how much more pleasant is a day of Christian
 solitude !"
    » Johnson, Langton  told us, did not get up till some one
 called to rouse him, whether it was  ten, eleven, twelve or
 one o'clock.   Johnson said,  ' I  am a very well-bred, well-
 mannered man.'"
    Parliament met on the 6th of October, and  was  soon the
 scene  of acrimonious controversy.  The new  overtures for
 peace  met of course  with Mr.  Fox's approbation, but the 
170
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1796.
 Bills for putting the country into a proper state for resisting
 an expected French invasion were contested hotly.  Against
 one of their proposed provisions  Mr. Wilberforce protested
 in his private  intercourse with  Mr. Pitt.   " It is intended I
 observe," he heard from Mr. Stillingfleet,  " that the  supple-
 mental  corps  of militia should be trained on  Sunday after-
 noon ; this comes  rather to remind than to solicit you to use
 all your influence to prevent the intended evil.   When a like
 proposal was  made by Lord  Shelburne  many years ago, I
 wrote to the present Bishop of London to beg him to inter-
 fere with the other bishops to prevent it, and received a most
 proper answer, that the obnoxious clause wrould be omitted."
 The Bills themselves he supported strongly, and was more
 than once called up by the factious temper of the opposition.
 " I will not charge them," he said,  Nov. 2d, "  with desiring
 an invasion, but 1 cannot help thinking that they would re-
 joice to see just so much mischief  befall their country, as
 would bring themselves into office."   The words were re-
 sented fiercely ; and he " feared that" he  " had gone too far
 against  opposition, but Fox very good-natured."  " What
 you said," writes Dr. Cookson, " is what  every body thinks,
 but what no one else had the courage to speak out."  In the
 midst of these harsh contentions, he  writes to  Mrs. Hannah
 More.

                            " House of Commons, Nov. 9, 1796.
 " My dear Madam,
   I have  heard of the  severe  illness, with  which  it  has
 pleased  God to visit you, and I have received pleasure from
 hearing of your recovery.   I trust you will still be spared to
 us, though  I scarce know how to  wish it, so far as you are
 yourself concerned, being persuaded that  whenever you are
 called hence, it will be to the enjoyment of those  pleasures,
 which eye hath not seen, nor ear  heard.   My  dear madam,
 I think of you, and feel for you, with lively interest.   How I
 respect your exertions, I would say to any one rather than
 to you;  but to your feeling heart it will afford a cordial, to
 be assured  that a friend looks through the bustling  crowd
 with which he is hemmed in, and fixes his eye  on you with
complacency and approbation.—God knows that I wish to
imitate your example, and  to  learn from  you to seize  the
 short intervals of tolerable ease and possible action, for act-
ing for the suppression of vice and the alleviation of misery.
 May we each  tread in our separate paths, and at  length, 
1796.
LA FAYETTE.
171
having  been graciously guided to our home  through  the
mercy  of our great  Shepherd,  may  we meet in a better
world, free from pain, and sickness, and sorrow, and live for
ever in the exercise of all those kindly affections, which are
now the balm of life, though so often alloyed by the irrita-
tions to which we are here subject.  I scribble amidst much
interruption, but my heart is full of kindness to you, and I
would not restrain my feelings.
  " May God bless, and support, and strengthen you, is the
hearty  prayer of               Yours sincerely,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  It was by " seizing short intervals of possible action," that
with an  infirm  body he himself accomplished so much.
During the  hurry of his present  London  life, he  had not
wholly laid aside the preparation of his work on Christianity.
" I  wish it was done.   My time has  been  exceedingly frit-
tered away in general talk, which yet was  right.  My bad
health  really renders it requisite for me to have much sleep;
but with God's help I will lessen the time spent in discussion,
and thus redeem what I can for solid work.   Meant to go
out of town for  a few days  that my tract may go on ; but
from the time of getting up till near four o'ciock never quiet
or  free  from  people on business."
   Upon the 17th he  set out for Buckden, and spent a  week
there,  engaged chiefly upon  his tract, " hospitably received,
and spending a rational life."  But business soon brought him
back to London  and its multiplied engagements.  " 26th.
 Busy morning about finance, and tract.  I hope to finish it
for the press by the end of the Christmas recess; and mean
as much as possible to redeem time for it  in London : help
 me, O God !"  " 16th. Morning—committees—House on La
 Fayette.  I doubtful, amended the motion—strengthened by
 Henry Thornton's advice and concurrence—not quite clear
 either."  He charged it upon the House as " the duty of a
 treat  assembly such as this, to look abroad into the world,
 and attend  to the claims of misery wherever it be found."
 He thought the case one of  peculiar hardship, and was the
 more ready  to interfere from La Fayette's past exertions on
 the Slave Trade question.   But he took this part unwillingly.
 "Never did I  rise  to speak with  more  reluctance, I ex-
 pected  all the ridicule*which followed; and  when Dundas
 with a happy peculiarity of expression talked of my Amend-
 ment as designed to catch the ' straagling humanity' of the 
172
LIFE of wilberforce.
1796.
 House, there  was a perfect roar of laughter.  However, I
 felt sure that we were bound to  use our influence with our
 Allies  to mitigate as far as it was possible the miseries of
 war."   It  was some reward for this  determined disregard
 of ridicule to receive long afterwards a special assurance of
 La Fayette's gratitude. " Tell him," was the message, " that
 in my life  I never can forget the feeling with which I read
 that speech in the dreary dungeon of Olmutz."
  The following was found among his papers, dated
                                           March, 1827.
  Among the various reasons for which our Saviour thought
 fit to forbid our judging each other, it was probably one, that
 we are most imperfect judges of the merit or demerit of the
 actions of others ; still less can we estimate degrees of virtue
 or of vice,  of the strength or weakness of the moral principle.
 Much  depends on the force of the temptation to which  we
 are subjected ; and this force must obviously vary according
 to the different temperaments, characters, and principles of
 different individuals.  That may be to one man a severe
 trial of the strength  of the moral principle which to another
 would  be none at  all.  One of the severest trials of the minor
 order,  which I myself ever experienced, was on the occasion
 of General  Fitzpatrick's motion for an address to the Crown,
 in behalf of M. de La Fayette.
  As the incident may have faded away from the memory of
 the present generation, or be lost in the multitude of the in-
 teresting occurrences of the last twenty years, it may be ne-
cessary to relate the  circumstances which gave occasion for
the motion  in question.  There is no man whose character has
 been painted in more different colours than that of M. de La
Fayette ; but it can scarcely be denied, that while many of the
 aspersions  on his reputation owe their  origin to rumour, and
 perhaps to party prejudice, his life exhibits many traits of a
generous and  patriotic spirit;  not merely of an ardent love
 of glory, but of a mind zealous  for liberty.  And when  we
 consider his youth, his rank, his connexions, and the univer-
 sal dissoluteness of morals and manners which then too com-
 monly prevailed among the French nobility, it gave indica-
tion of a truly  noble spirit, to quit the luxury and frivolity of
a Court, and  to  plunge into the hardships, privations, and
dangers of war in the cause, as he conceived, of an injured
and oppressed people.  Again, whatever may be reported of
his behaviour to the royal family of France, whenever that
is considered it should be remembered that he  well knew 
1796.                  LA FAYETTE.                  173

they reposed no confidence in him, but that they suspected
and hated him ;  while he knew but too surely that had they
escaped out of France, which was their settled and but too
natural purpose, it would have been declared by the dema-
gogues to have been effected  by his connivance.  It is noto-
rious, that when the wretches who excited and directed the
popular fury at Paris, manifested unequivocally their purpose
of destroying  the King and Queen, he exposed himself to
great personal obloquy and danger in their defence.  Once
he quitted the army and came to the bar of the Convention,
endeavouring in vain to stem the torrent  of popular fury;
and he was endeavouring to prevail on his soldiers to march
to Paris,  to  rescue the royal family from  the extremity of
danger and degradation, when the Convention, well knowing
his purpose, sent commissioners to treat with the army, and
to prevail on them to arrest their commander.   In vain did
M. de  Lafayette endeavour to call forth a  better feeling. He
was but  just able to effect his own escape,  accompanied by
a few of his  officers, and protected by a small party  of cav-
alry ;  intending  to find a refuge  in  some neutral  territory.
Passing through the Prussian territory, he  with his  compa-
nions,  was arrested, and shortly  afterwards lodged  in the
dungeons of the fortress of Olmutz.  Madame de La Fayette,
a member of one of the most ancient and  noble families in
France, petitioning to be permitted to cheer the desolateness
of his  imprisonment, her request was granted only on the
condition that she herself should become equally a prisoner;
a stipulation which, though she willingly submitted to it, does
not on that account reflect less dishonour on the government
which  required such an engagement.
   His  harsh and cruel imprisonment had now lasted  for four
years,  when, this country  being then in close alliance with
Austria,  it was hoped that the influence of the court of St.
James's might be exerted for  the humane purpose of prevail-
ing on our confederate to release M. de Lafayette from his
prison. Indeed the bitterness  with which some of our leading
politicians then publicly spoke  of the leaders of the Revolution-
ary party, might not unnaturally cause it to  be supposed that
our court was implicated  in the cruelty and disgrace of his
unjust detention.  All therefore who were anxious to exone-
rate their country from  the  imputation of participating  in
such  unworthy counsels  highly approved  of General Fitz-
patrick's Address ;  but it was supported by others on deeper
and more general  principles (broader grounds.)  Considering 
174
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1797.
the mitigated spirit and practice of modern warfare as one
of the most marked  and truly admirable improvements ef-
fected by Christianity, even  among those over  whose per-
sonal character and conduct  its principles have little or no
influence, and knowing but too well how easily the spirit of
hostility, and the pretence of retaliation  might lead to the
universal prevalence of the  ferocious principles (maxims)
and practice of ancient warfare, they dreaded the first devia-
tion of a professedly Christian court from the milder regimen
of modern times.  Many therefore who commonly took  no
part in politics, nay many who had been among the foremost
in condemning the wickedness and cruelty of the Revolution-
ary party, took a lively concern in  M. de Lafayette's fate,
and were warmly interested  in the success of General Fitz-
patrick's motion: but it was opposed with extreme bitterness
by Mr. Burke and Mr. Windham, who charged on M. de La-
fayette  the  abundant harvest of  crimes  and miseries, of
which they alleged he had sown the seeds.  They  argued
therefore that his sufferings,  however severe, were no more
than the just retribution for his early offences. Others again
who in  no  degree shared  in these vindictive feelings, and
who it is no more than common charity to suppose would
have been glad to accede to the motion, were probably afraid
of disgusting an ally, and thereby weakening a confederacy,
which was  not united by any very strong principles of cohe-
sion. Not liking to take Mr. Bankes's ground, they therefore,
and more especially Mr. Dundas, afterwards Lord Melville,
adopted a tone of ridicule ; for even then, though much less
I  think than now, we had begun to be a very merry set of
legislators.
  In proportion therefore to the degree in which  little was to
be said against the motion, it would be cried down by party
violence.  It was late in the  day before I had an  opportunity
of delivering  my sentiments, and when at last  an opening
did present  itself, it  was  towards the close of the  debate,
when the patience of the House was exhausted, and when it
was obvious that any one who should  get up to defend the
motion, especially any one not having  the cry of a party to
support him and the plea of sticking to a party to justify the
part  he should take, would  experience a very sorry recep-
tion.  It may be perhaps a confession, but I  must  frankly
acknowledge, that the performance of an act of duty has sel-
dom been set about at a greater cost of present  feeling than
by myself, when under these circumstances I rose, conscious
that I should immediately draw on me  the loud derision of a 
1797.
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE.
175
vast majority of a very full House of Commons.  I was not
deceived in my expectation; and a rather felicitous expres-
sion of Dundas's, that the motion was chiefly to owe its sup-
port to straggling humanity, (the effect of the words enforced
by his peculiar tone and pronunciation,) produced a roar that
has seldom  been equalled.   I am  thankful that I was not
weak enough to be deterred by foreseeing the consequences
that were to ensue: but trifling as the occasion really was
in the actual circumstances of the case, it was at the mo-
ment a severe trial of  principle. . . . Transient as  on  reflec-
tion I must be conscious would be the feelings of the persons
present,  however  strongly  expressed,  and little as  I must
have known I should permanently  lose in reputation  by the
part I was  about to take, it was  nevertheless a great trial,
&c. &c.
   It is  one of the many instances in which an attentive
reader of the New Testament will have occasion to  remark
that it was written by an accurate observer of the nature and
feelings of man, that so much  stress is always laid upon the
feeling  of shame; and the  strength of its influence on our
nature  is continually noticed, not only in the epithet, cruel,
attached to mockings,  and the trial put on  a  level with the
greatest sufferings that could be endured—but on many oc-
casions in which it might have been expected  that  feelings
 of another  sort would be  specified, shame is that which is
 mentioned.  Thus of our  blessed Saviour it is said, He en-
 dured the cross, despising the shame.  (See also  other pas-
 sages.)  " I am not ashamed of  the gospel." ^ " House  of
 Onesiphorus, he was not ashamed of my chain."

    "Monday, Jan. 2d," he enters in his diary, " slept ill, and
 very indifferent—feared I was about to be as bad as the fa-
 mous time," (1788,) " and  suffered much—sent to Pitcairne.
 Had death, as probable, in view, and felt I  hope resigned,
 but no ardour or warmth—confined for a few days."
    An attack of severe  illness interrupted for a time the course
  of his occupations, and at the desire of his physicians he
  went to Bath.  " It has pleased God  of his  great mercy to
  raise me up again from this attack, which threatened much;
  I then thought death  probably near.   Oh  that 1  might now
  better employ the time it has pleased God to  allow me! May
  I be enlightened, and purified, and quickened ; and having
  sadly wasted my precious faculties even since my thinking
  more  seriously,  may I now more constantly act as an  ac 
176
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1797.
 countable creature, who may be called away suddenly to his
 reckoning." This thought appears to have altered his inten-
 tion of" putting off his tract" for a season of greater leisure,
 and he begins his stay at Bath with the  determination of
 giving to it all the time which  health and  society allowed.
 " May I be enabled to engage in this busy scene with benefit
 to others, and  without harm to myself.  Oh that I may feel the
 power of Divine  grace in my heart to fill  me with love of
 God and of my fellow-creatures !  Oh how much do I want!
 what unnumbered blessings do I receive at the hands of God,
 and how unequal is  my return!  Yet let me remember He
 has encouraged us to apply to Him for His Holy Spirit.  Let
 him that is athirst come.   Create  then in me this sacred
 thirst,  and satisfy it with that  peace of God, which Thou
 only canst supply."
  He reached Bath  upon the 14th  of January, and dined
 that day with the " Miss Mores, who are all  kindness, and
 have provided me excellent lodgings.   Lord  Galloway and
 his  son.    Lord Galloway talked incessantly two  or three
 hours—useful and active, and  how much  better  disposed
 than most of his rank—fond of Jeremy Taylor.  Mrs. Hannah
 More gave his son  Doddridge's ' Evidences,' and  strongly
 recommended ' Rise  and Progress of Religion.'
  " I find little time here,"  he complained,  "  for study, not
 above two or three  hours  in a morning hitherto, at tract.
 Calls, of which I make about sixty,  and receive as many—
 water-drinking—dinings out with people, who expect me to
 stay—many letters to write;—all this  leaves  me, though
 hurrying much, and  I hope not  idling, very  little time."   " I
 should like to be with you," wrote Dr. Milner, whom he had
 pressed to join him, " but not to dine with a gang of fellows
 on  the Queen's birth-day."  But towards  the end of  his
 stay, though he still  speaks of " daily dinings out, and  be-
 tween sixty or seventy people to visit," he " managed to be
 pretty diligent  in the  mornings on" his " tract, chiefly revis-
 ing ;" and by the time of his return to London it was ready
 for the printer.
  On the 14th of February he " reached London by  five
 o'clock, and dined at  Pitt's; but Grenville being there could
not get out much, though I had given up  going to Great-
hed's for  suggesting about Eliot succeeding Lord Cornwal-
lis."*   This appointment he  earnestly desired, as  he knew
* As Governor General of India. 
1797.
INTEREST FOR INDIA.
177
that Mr. Eliot's official influence in India would have been
made subservient to the extension of Christianity; an ob-
ject for  which at this  very moment he  was devising fresh
expedients.   " There  is considerable  probability," he told
Mr. Hey, " of our being permitted to send to the East Indies
a certain number of persons, I presume we shall want ten
or twelve, for the purpose  of instructing the natives in the
English language, and  in the principles of Christianity.   But
the plan will need much  deliberation.  I really  dare  not
plunge into  such a depth  as is  required without previous
sounding; lest instead of pearls  and corals, I  should come
up with my head covered only with sea-weed, and become
a fair laughing-stock  to   the listless and unenterprising,
When I  return to town we will hold a  cabinet council on
the business.  Henry  Thornton,  Grant, and  myself, are the
junto."   When Mr. Eliot's appointment seemed to be se-
cure, both  " Mr. Dundas  and Lord  Cornwallis preferring
him to  any other person," a dangerous attack of illness
forced him to refuse the situation.
  Parliament reassembled  upon  the 14th of February,
" amidst  a state of things" which appeared " most unpromis-
ing."  The  prospect  soon became still more  gloomy.  " I
have been trying," he says on the 26th, " for several days to
see  Pitt.   This evening Eliot came in  and told me of the
Bank going to stop payment to-morrow.  We talked much
about it, and it disturbed my sleep at night."

                   TO LORD MUNCASTER.

                                   "11 o'clock, Sunday night.
My dear Muncaster,
   Eliot has just been with me to inform me that the  Bank
is to stop payment by command of government to-morrow
morning.  I have  not  been party to this counsel, but have
of course suggested what  has occurred to  me  to  prevent
riots, and secure a supply of provisions for the  capital.  I like
to tell you bad as well as good tidings.  O my dear friend,
how this tumultuous  state endears  to one that heavenly
peace, which, flowing from a source which worldly  disturb-
ances cannot reach, may remain entire though  all around  us
be in confusion.
                Yours ever affectionately,
                                    W.  Wilberforce." 
178
LIFE OF MILBERFORCE.
1797.
    Two days afterwards he was chosen one of a Parliamen-
  tary Committee which took possession of the Bank, and ex-
  amined into its solvency.   "Saturday. Committee as usual.
  Examined Pitt—wanted to  sit the next day, but I repelled."
  After a morning thus occupied, he spent his evenings in the
  House, where he was frequently called up by the bitterness
  of party spirit in defence of  Mr.  Pitt, upon whom he was
  still  urging  privately the   necessity  of making  peace.
  " Dined at Pitt's quietly—he, R. and I.  R. more unmanage-
 able than Pitt.  I counsel for  peace."  " Called at  Pitt's—a
 most earnest conversation about peace, and degree in which
 I may fairly  differ from ministry about it.   Pitrexceedinglv
 moved."                                            & J
   To his other  business was  soon added the  renewed agi-
 tation of the Abolition question.   His partial success in  the
 preceding session had taught the West Indians the value of
 Mr. Dundas's policy; and they now turned aside his efforts
 by seeming but unsubstantial concession.
   The  resolutions with which  he  had begun this busy sea-
 son, were, "to redeem time  more; to  keep God  more  in
 view, and Christ, and  all  He  has  suffered for us • and the
 unseen world where Christ  is now sitting at the right hand
 of God interceding for His  people.  I would  grow in love
 and tender solicitude for my fellow-creatures' happiness in
 preparedness for any events  which  may befall me in this un-
 certain  state.  I may be called to sharp trials, but Christ is
 able to  strengthen me  for the event, be  it  what it may."
 These resolutions he soon had to act upon in bearing a "se-
 ries of calumnious charges which were heaped  upon nim in
 a Cambridge newspaper.  « I am abused for the grossest
 hypocrisy in  Flower's  paper, which states as a  fact  that I
 always  had a prayer-book in the Pump-room, and said my
 prayers  there."   "There seems,"  says Dr. Milner, "To  be
 something systematic meant  against you.   It really appears
 o amount to downright hatred and persecution  LT have
 I the least doubt that the person who writes in this manner
 would do you personal injury if he could with impunity

 se'nTer.n^^T ^ he "  S°me  vi°lent  democraKV
 senter, and perhaps if you could  unkennel him, some pri-
vate anecd tes between yQu and h.m wQu]d    , some pn

do voTL'r676- 1S n0t t0 n°tice SUch a writ*r.   He can
yo/and  or m  ln7r "Z7'  N°  man who does »<* h^
Lch an 7iZ      ! beforehand, will be induced to do so by
such an  intemperate account;  and as to your book, they 
1797.
WORK ON CHRISTIANITY.
179
cannot hurt it, though its contents will provoke them.   God
preserve you."
  " My being moved by this falsehood," he says, " is a proof
that I am too much interested about worldly favour.  Yet I
endeavour  I  hope to fight against the  bad tempers of re-
venge and pride which it is generating, by thinking of all our
Saviour suffered in the way of calumny.   St. Stephen also
and St. Paul were falsely accused.  Let me humbly watch
myself,  so  far as this  false  charge may suggest matter  of
amendment;  and also I ought to be very thankful that with
the many faults of which  I am conscious, it has pleased God
that I have never been charged  justly, or where I could not
vindicate myself.  How good is God !   The business of  C.
off so well;  I left it  more to Him than I have often done in
such cases.  Be  this remembered for future practice.  The
real truth is that at Bath  I carried sometimes a New Testa-
ment, a Horace, or a Shakspeare  in my pocket, and got by
heart or recapitulated in walking or staying by myself in the
Pump-room.   I  had  got a Testament  which  had not the
common dress of one on purpose.   I cannot recollect having
had any movement of spiritual  pride on this ground, but re-
member I thought it  a profitable way.  I got two or three of
St. Paul's  epistles by heart when otherwise quite idle, and
had resolved to  learn much Scripture in this way, remem-
bering Venn's comfort from  it.   Thou, Lord, knowest my
integrity, and it will  finally appear; meanwhile let my use-
fulness not be prevented by this report, or that of my book
thwarted.   What a  blessed institution is the Sunday !"
   He had been  engaged about "his book" ever since  his
 return from Bath.   Immediately upon coming to town, he
 "had  seen  Cadell  and  agreed  to begin printing;"  and
 throughout the session its revision occupied his spare time.
 He corrected the press when  business flagged in the com-
 mittee room;  and the index and  errata were the work  of
 midnight hours,  when the debate was  over.
    Upon the  12th of  April  his work was published—" My
 book out to-day." Many were those who anxiously watched
 the issue.   Dr.  Milner  had strongly dissuaded his attempt.
 " A person who stands so^high for talent," wrote David Scott,
 " must risk much  in point of fame at least, by publishing
 upon a subject  on  which there  have been the greatest  ex-
 ertions of the  greatest genius."   His  publisher was  not
 devoid of apprehensions as to the safety of his own specula-
 tion    There was then little demand for religious publications, 
 180               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1797.

 and " he evidently regarded  me an  amiable enthusiast."
 " You mean to put your name to the work 1 Then I  think
 we may venture upon 500 copies," was Mr.  Cadell's con-
 clusion.   Within a few days it was out of print, and  within
 half a year five editions (7500 copies) had  been called for.
 His friends were delighted with the execution of the work,
 as well as with its  reception. " I heartily thank you for your
 book," wrote Lord Muncaster.  " As a  friend  I thank you for
 it;  as a man I doubly thank you ; but as a  member of the
 Christian world, I  render you all gratitude and acknowledg-
 ment.   I  thought  I knew you well, but I know you better
 now, my dearest excellent Wilber."  " I send you herewith,"
 Mr. Henry Thornton writes to Mr. Macaulay, " the book on
 religion lately published  by Mr. Wilberforce ; it excites even
 more attention than you would have supposed, amongst all
 the graver and better disposed people. The bishops in general
 much approve of it, though some more warmly, some more
 coolly.  Many of his gay and political friends admire and ap-
 prove of it; though some do but dip into it. Several have re-
 cognized the likeness of themselves. The better part of the re-
 ligious world,  and  more especially the church of England,
 prize it most highly, and consider it  as producing an era in
 the history of the church. The dissenters, many of them, call
 it legal,* and point  at particular parts.   Gilbert Wakefield
 has  already scribbled something  against it.  I myself am
 amongst those who contemplate it as a most important work."
  This  was the universal feeling amongst those who looked
 seriously around them on  the  face of things.  " I am truly
 thankful to Providence," wrote Bishop  Porteus, " that a work
 of this  nature has  made its appearance at this  tremendous
 moment.  I shall offer up my fervent prayers to God, that it
 may have a powerful  and  extensive influence on the hearts
 of men, and in the  first  place on my own, which is already
humbled,  and will  I trust in time be  sufficiently awakened
 by it." " I deem it," Mr. Newton told him, " the most valua-
 ble and important  publication  of the present age, especially
 as  it is  yours:"  and to  Mr.  Grant  he wrote, "What a
 phenomenon has Mr. Wilberforce sent abroad !  Such a book
 by such a man, and at such a  time !   A book which  must
 and  will be read by persons in  the higher circles, who are

 * In the year 1818, he was assailed in the " Scotsman" by an exactly op-
posite insinuation. " Mr. Wilberforce is a man of rigid Calvinistic principles/'
&c.  In the margin of the paper he wrote, '* False." 
1797.
WORK ON CHRISTIANITY.
181
quite inaccessible to us little folk,  who  will neither  hear
what we can say, nor read what we may write.   I am filled
with wonder and with hope.  I  accept it as  a token for
good ; yea, as the brightest token I can discern in this dark
and perilous day.   Yes, I trust that the Lord, by raising up
such an incontestable witness to the truth and power of the
gospel, has a gracious purpose to honour  him as an instru-
ment of reviving and  strengthening the sense of real reli-
gion where it already is, and of commuicating it where it is
not."
   The aspect of the times, in which, says Mr. Hey,  " hell
seems broke  loose  in  the  most  pestiferous doctrines and
abominable practices, which set  the Almighty at defiance,
and break  the  bonds of civil  society," led  even  the less
thoughtful to look to its effect with some anxiety.  " I sin-
cerely hope,"  wrote the Lord Chancellor, (Loughborough,)
" that your book will be read by many, with that just and
proper temper which  the awful circumstances in which we
stand ought to  produce."   Its tone was well calculated to
create these hopes.   There was an air of entire reality per-
vading its addresses, which brought them closely home to the
heart and conscience of the reader.  It was not the fine-spun
theory of some speculative declaimer, but the plain  address
of one who had  lived amongst and wratched those to whom
he spoke.    " Let me recommend you to  open on  the last
section of the  fourth chapter," was his advice to Mr. Pitt;
" you will see wherein the religion which I espouse differs
practically from  the common system.  Also the sixth  chapter
has almost a right to a perusal, being the basis of all politics,
and particularly  addressed to such as you."   "I desired my
bookseller," he tells Mr. Newton, " to leave at your  house a
copy of my publication ; and though I scarcely suppose that
your leisure will be sufficient to enable you to fight through
the whole  of it, you  may perhaps look into it occasionally.
If so, let me advise you to  dip into  the third or  fourth chap-
ters, and perhaps the concluding one.   I cannot help saying
it is a great relief to  my mind to have published what I may
call my manifesto; to have plainly told my worldly acquaint-
ance what I think of their system  and conduct, and where
it  must end.   I own I shall act in my parliamentary situa-
tion with more comfort and satisfaction than  hitherto.  You
will perceive that I have laboured  to make my book as ac-
ceptable to men  of the world as it could be made without a
dereliction of principle;  and I hope I have  reason to believe
                           16 
182
LIFE OF WILBERFORpE.
1797.
not without  effect.  I hope  also that it may be useful  to
young persons Who with general dispositions to serious-
ness  are  very ignorant  about  religion,  and  know not
where to apply for instruction.  It is  the grace of God, how-
ever, only that can teach, and I shall at  least feel  a solid
satisfaction from having openly declared myself as it were on
the side of Christ, and having avowed on what, my hopes for
the well-being of the country bottom."
   As a literary work  it might be judged to  need  greater
condensation ;  but  its  style was the best suited to produce
effect.  " I was purposely," he has said, " more diffuse than
strict taste  prescribed, because my  object was to make an
impression  upon men  in general."   "Do not  curtail too
much," he once  said to a friend, "portable  soup  must  be
diluted before it can be used."  There  is in truth through-
out the volume a rich and natural eloquence, which wins  its
way easily with every reader.  Its illustrations are  happy ;
its insight into motives clear; and  above all,  its  tone  is
every where  affectionate and earnest.   It was seen to  be
"the produce of his heart as well as  of his understanding."
   He addressed  his fellow-countrymen moreover from  an
eminence on which he could  be  heard; as a layman safe
from the imputation of professional  bias; and as one who
lived in the public eye, and was seen to  practise what  he
taught.  He raised indeed  a  strict,  but  his  own example
proved that it was a practicable, standard.  His  life had
long been a puzzle to  observers.   Some had  even  thought
him mad, because  they could not comprehend the  strange
exhibition of his altered habits; but his work supplied the
rationale of his  conduct, whilst his conduct enforced the
 precepts  of his  work.  Any one might  now examine the
 staff of  the  wizard, and  learn the  secrets of his charmed
 book.  " How careful  ought I to be," was his own reflection,
 " that I may not  disgust men  by an inconsistency  between
 the picture of a Christian which I draw, and which I exhibit!
 How else can 1  expect the blessing of God  on my book!
 May his grace quicken  me."  " That he  acted up," is  the
judgment of a shrewd observer, " to his  opinions as nearly
 as is consistent with the  inevitable weakness of our nature,
 is a praise so high that it  seems like  exaggeration; yet in my
 conscience I believe it, and I  knew him  well for at least forty
 years."*

   * Entry on a blank page of the " Practical View," by J. B.  S. Morritt,
 Esq. 
1797.
MR. BURKE'S OPINION.
183
   The effect of this  work  can scarcely be overrated.   Its
circulation was at that time altogether without  precedent.
In  1826 fifteen editions (and some very large impressions)
had issued from the press in England.  " In  India," says
Henry Martyn in  1807, " Wilberforce is eagerly  read."  In
America the work was immediately reprinted, and  within
the same period twenty-five editions had been sold.  It has
been translated into the French, Italian, Spanish,  Dutch, and
German languages.  Its influence was proportionate to its
diffusion.   It may be affirmed beyond all question, that it
gave the first general impulse to that warmer and more ear-
nest spring of piety which, amongst all  its  many evils, has
happily distinguished the last half century.
   As soon as his  book was published he set  off for Bath,
where he was followed by the congratulations of many of
his friends.
   Not a year passed throughout his  after  life, in which he
did not receive fresh testimonies to the blessed  effects which
it pleased God to produce through  his publication.    In  ac-
knowledging this goodness  of his  God, the outpourings of
his heart are warm and frequent; though the particular  oc-
casions are too sacred to be publicly divulged:

            " Latonae taciturn pertentant gaudia pectus."

Men of the first rank and highest intellect, clergy and laity,
traced to it their serious impressions  of religion ; and  ten-
dered their several acknowledgments in various ways; from
the anonymous correspondent " who had purchased a small
freehold in Yorkshire, that  by his vote he might offer him a
slight tribute of respect," down to  the grateful message of
the expiring Burke.  That great  man was   said   by Mr.
Windham in the House of Commons, when he had arranged
his worldly matters, to have amused  his dying  hours with
the writings of Addison.  He might  have added  what serious
minds would have  gladly heard:  "Have you been told," Mr.
Henry Thornton asks Mrs. Hannah More, "that Burke spent
much of the two last days of his life in  reading Wilberforce's
book, and said  that  he derived  much comfort from it, and
that if he lived he  should thank Wilberforce for having  sent
such a book into  the world 1   So says Mrs. Crewe,  who
was with Burke at the  time."  Before his death  Mr. Burke
summoned Dr. Laurence to his side, and committed specially
to him the expression of these thanks.
   Amidst these circumstances his sobriety of mind remained 
184
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1797.
unshaken."  " I was much struck," says a friend who was
with him whilst at Bath, " with his entire simplicity of man-
ners.   The place was very full; the sensation  which his
work produced drew upon him  much observation, but  he
seemed neither  flattered nor embarrassed by the interest he
excited."   The secret of this easy self-possession may  be
read in the entries  of his private Journal.    " Bath,  April
14th, three o'clock, Good Friday.  I thank God that I now
do feel in some degree as I ought this day.    I trust that I
feel true  humiliation of soul from a sense of my own extreme
un worthiness; a humble hope in the favour of God in Christ;
some emotion from  the contemplation of Him who at this
very moment was hanging on the cross; some shame at the
multiplied mercies I enjoy ; some desire to devote myself  to
Him who has so dearly  bought  me; some degree of that
universal  love and good-will which the sight of  Christ cru-
cified is calculated to inspire.  Oh if the contemplation here
can produce these effects on my hard heart, what will the
vision of Christ  in glory produce hereafter !  I feel something
of pity too for a thoughtless world ; and oh what gratitude
is justly due from me (the vilest of sinners, when compared
with the  mercies I have received) who have  been brought
from darkness  into light, and I  trust from the pursuit  of
earthly things to the prime love of things above !  Oh purify
my heart still more by Thy grace.  Quicken my dead  soul,
and purify me  by Thy Spirit, that 1 may be  changed  from
glory to glory, and be made  even here in some  degree  to
resemble my heavenly Father."
  He was soon  recalled to London by a letter from Mr. Pitt,
urging his attendance in parliament.  The  summons  was
peculiarly unwelcome. "I doubt," he had  written to a friend
six months before, "if I shall  ever change my situation ; the
state of public affairs concurs with  other causes in making
me believe ' I must finish  my journey alone.'   I much  differ
from you in thinking that a man such as I am has no reason
to apprehend some violent death or other.   I do  assure you
that in my own  case I think it highly probable.  Then  con-
sider how extremely I am occupied.  What should I  have
done had I been a family-man for  the last three weeks, wor-
ried from morning to night!   But I must not think of such
matters now, it makes me feel my solitary state too sensibly.
Yet this state has some advantages; it makes me feel I am
not at home, and impresses on me the duty of looking for
and hastening to a better  country."  But his sentiments had 
1797.                  MARRIAGE.                     185

now undergone a  considerable change.   At Bath he  had
formed the acquaintance of one whom he judged well fitted
to be his companion through life, and towards whom he con-
tracted a strong attachment.  " Jacta est alea," he says upon
receiving  her favourable answer, " I believe Indeed she is
admirably suited to me, and there are many circumstances
which seem to advise the  step.  I trust God will bless me;
I go to pray to Him.  I believe her  to be a  real Christian,
affectionate, sensible, rational in habits,  moderate in desires
and pursuits ; capable of bearing prosperity  without intoxi-
cation, and adversity without repining.  If I  have been pre-
cipitate, forgive me, O God.   But if  as I trust we shall both
love and fear and serve Thee, Thou wilt bless us according
to Thy sure wrord of promise."
  A sudden call from Bath was, under these circumstances,
what he would have gladly escaped.  On  that very day also
he was expecting three of his most valued friends who were
coming to him from a distance ;  but it  was  a call of duty,
and he at  once " resolved to obey it." It had been remarked
by those who knew him  best, as an instance of his  confi-
dence in God, that  at  such a time of general apprehension
he should  have  resolved to marry.   The prospect was now
gloomy at home and  hopeless on the continent; and with
the strongest trust  in that  merciful Father who had hitherto
protected him, he looked forward to approaching trouble as
an altered  man.  He found already that he had given host-
ages to fortune.  " Muncaster told  me of  the Emperor's
separate peace.  Much  affected by  it for her sake.   Wrote
to her and told  her that I would not  hold her to engagement
against her will."   " The intelligence we have received," he
wrote,  " of the Emperor's  having made a  separate  peace
affects  me with emotions hitherto unknown ; it  is doubtful
what the effects of the event  may be on our internal  situa-
tion.  I seem to have drawn  you into a participation of my
fortunes at a most unseasonable time, and I am distressed
by the idea of involving you  in trouble and  misfortune  by
the part it may be my duty to take in  so perilous  a con-
juncture."
  Yet  this was but a passing cloud  which shaded his habi-
tual cheerfulness.   "You  have heard me say," he writes
again a few days later, " that I am no predestinarian, and it
is certainly true ;  yet when  I  review the incidents of my
past life, and observe  how God ' has led me by a way which
I  knew not,' has supported me when  weak, has raised me
                          16* 
186
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1797.
when fallen, has brought me out of darkness into light, has
kept me  from forming a connexion  where it  wrou!d  have
proved too surely a clog and a restraint to  me, and has  at
length disposed our hearts mutually  to each other;  when I
see these and ten thousand other such things, (many of them
you will like to hear,) I can only lift up my hands and eyes
in silent adoration, and recognize the providence of God dis-
posing all things according to the counsel of His own  will;
and graciously recompensing the very feeblest endeavours
to please  and serve Him."  "On looking back to my past
life I  see  many instances,  some greater, some smaller, of
God's providential care and kindness.  These infuse into me
a  humble hope  that, though public  affairs wear  a  most
gloomy aspect, yet I shall be rescued from future evils, and
shall be a specimen of His  undeserved grace and  kindness
to those  that humbly look  up to Him.  It  would to  some
seem superstitious to note how good God has been to me in
a variety of little instances (preserving me  from evil,  from
discredit, &c.) as well as in more important  cases."
   Those troubled times  needed such a ground of confidence.
Whilst the naval mutiny was yet unappeased, discontents
broke  out amongst the military in the  neighbourhood  of
London.   At this moment it was buzzed  about  that Mr.
Wilberforce had written to the soldiers to express his sym-
pathy, and  promise to bring their  complaints before the
House of Commons.  So wide-spread was the  rumour, that
on the  13th of May he says, "Pitt sent to me about the
soldiers," and " Windham" (Secretary at War) " called"  on
the same errand " in the course of the day." " I have no in-
tention," was  his answer, " of making any motion on the
subject, but to do so at this time, and in such  a manner, I
should deem little short of positive insanity." Still it was as-
serted that an agent from  himself had brought the message
to the barracks, read aloud his letter, and actually shown to
them his signature.  Further inquiry brought out a solution
of the imputation, highly characteristic of its  object.  One
Williams, a needy, and as he thought penitent man, had been
recommended  by Mr.  Scott to the  charity of Mr. Wilber-
force.  He was a clergyman of the Church of England, and
had reduced himself to abject want by unprincipled excess:
on his apparent penitence he found in  Mr. Wilberforce a
generous supporter, who had continued privately to relieve
his necessity, even after he had spit  in his benefactor's face
and had been kept by a Bow  Street warrant  from further 
1797.
HIS MARRIAGE.
187
acts  of violence.   Finding him at last  irreclaimable, Mr.
Wilberforce had written to refuse him any further aid ; and
with this  letter "  wicked Williams"... such was his usual
appellation .. . had visited the barracks, pretended  to read
the feigned message, and then exhibited the  signature.
   Upon the  15th  of May, his motion on the Slave Trade
was again before the House ; but the West Indians maintain-
ed the  ground which they  had gained at the commencement
of the session.  They opposed the motion with a bolder front
than usual.   Mr.  Wilberforce was ridiculed by Bryan Ed-
wards for declaring that by the gloomy aspect of affairs  he
was  reminded of the slumbering wrath of Heaven, which the
Slave  Trade must provoke; he was taunted with the hu-
manity of the Liverpool merchants, and the  distresses of the
chimney-sweepers.   A majority of 82 to 74 against the mea-
sure was  only  what had been anticipated from the  existing
House of  Commons.  " I wrote  last night," he says the next
day  playfully in a letter to  Bath, " whilst a very slow and
heavy speaker  was  railing at me, to my lawyer about our
settlement; so I did not want Christian love to keep me from
falling out of temper, and  I have been too long used to it to
feel much disappointment  on losing my motion."
   " May 27th.  Off after dinner, calling at Pitt's and strong-
ly urging him to make a liberal offer at  first to France ;
he convinced at  length, that requisite to  make immediate
effort.  I  travelled on to Salt Hill. 28th,  Sunday.  Salt Hill.
For some time past extremely hurried in London—but very
poorly in  health—never recovered since  the influenza.  Not
able to sleep.   Heat  excessive, and I suffered from' it more
than I ever remember.  Daily reports of the soldiery  rising,
and  certainly some progress made.  Pitt and the others now
convinced that things in extremis,  yet no apparent sense of
God.  I now  feel exceedingly hunted and  shattered."  On
the following day he reached Bath, and  upon the 30th, was
 married to  Barbara Ann,  eldest daughter of Isaac Spooner
 Esq. of Elmdon Hall in the county of Warwick. " You will
 perhaps judge  my way of thinking old-fashioned and queer,"
 was the  congratulation of his late  colleague Henry Dun-
 combe, "  but I am greatly pleased that you have not chosen
 your partner from among the titled fair ones of the land.  Do
 not  however tell  Lady C.  so."
   His first visit with his bride  was to Mrs. Hannah More's.
 " Received at Cowslip  Green wMth great kindness—delight-
 ful day and sweet ride.   Sunday morning, as early as able, 
188
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1797.
tour of the schools—Shipham, Axbridge, and Cheddar.  De-
lighted with all he saw, Cheddar in particular—a delightful
scene, when old people collected together at afternoon read-
ing. Home at night, after a pleasant drive."  Already, at the
expiration of the first week from his marriage, he condemns
himself" for not having been duly diligent," and on the next
day he  set out again for London.   His head-quarters were
now in Palace Yard, and for an occasional retreat he rented
of his friend Mr. Eliot his house on Clapham Common.
  " Let me now," he says on his return to  London, " com-
mence a new era, guarding cautiously against all infirmities
to which I am personally, or from circumstances, liable ; and
endeavouring to cultivate all opportunities.  I go to prayer;
may the grace of God give me repentance. Fix, O Lord, my
natural  volatility ; let not Satan destroy or impair these im-
pressions.  I fall down before the cross of Christ, and would
there implore pardon and  find  grace to help in this time of
need.    Let me use diligently and  prudently to Thy glory
all the powers and faculties Thou hast given me.   Let me
exhibit  a bright specimen  of the Christian  character, and
adorn the doctrine of God my Saviour in all things.  Let me
go forth remembering the vows of God which are upon me;
remembering that all eyes will be surveying me from my
book, my marriage, Sic. ;  that  my political station is  most
important,  my means  of doing  good numerous and great;
my cup full of blessings, spiritual above all.   The times how
critical! Death perhaps at hand.  May God  be  with me for
Christ's sake."
  He was summoned  to Hull,  by  the sudden death of Dr.
Clarke,  who  had married  his  only sister, and  spent three
weeks in cheering his aged mother and sorrowing sister.
  Though  the circumstances of his family saved him from
the necessity of paying visits, yet he had little leisure. " Late
morning hours and  early  dining,  many calls, a vast many
letters, and attention  to my mother, prevent my getting any
thing done. Reading the Bible with my wife." "I wish I could
have a  recluse,  devotional,  thinking birth-day,  but  that  is
impossible.  On its return I  have the utmost  cause  for self-
humiliation, for gratitude, for grateful confidence, for earnest
breathings after usefulness.  I have no time to write, but let
me use the few minutes I have in praying to God in Christ,
the Author of my mercies, beseeching Him to hear me, to fill
me with spiritual blessings, and enable me to  live to His
glory.   My marriage and the publication of my book are the 
 1797.       LETTER TO ZACHARY MACAULAY, ESQ.        189

 great events of the past year.  In both I see much to humble
 me, and fill my mouth with praises.  Let me  resign myself
 to God, who has hitherto led  me by ways that I knew not,
 and implore Him yet to bless me."
   A rope-yard behind his mother's house was almost the
 only place where he could here take his quiet musing walks ;
 and the pleasure he had found in it he would  mention long
 afterwards with gratitude.  "It is hardly  in human nature, I
 fear," wrote Dr. Milner, the day after his departure, " to con-
 tinue long as happy as you are at. present."  " My cup was
 before teeming with mercies," he himself tells Mr. Macaulay,
 " and it has at length  pleased God to add  the only ingredient
 almost which  was wanting to its fulness.  In  this instance,
 as  in many others, His goodness has exceeded my utmost
 expectations,  and I  ought,  with  renewed  alacrity  and in-
 creased gratitude, to devote myself to the service of my mu-
 nificent Benefactor. I am half ready  to blame myself for thus
 descanting on the topic I have chosen, but it is the strongest
 proof I can give you of my friendship, that I have opened
 myself to you  on a subject, on which, in speaking  to a mere
 acquaintance,  I should have been the least likely to dwell.
   " We  lately spent a week  with our excellent friends, the
 Babingtons, who, to the blessing of their neighbourhood, are
 now returned  to the Temple.   I own I am obliged to bite my
 cheek  and  set my teeth hard, when I quit such an enviable
 retirement to plunge into the bustle and wickedness of politi-
 cal life.   But slave or  free, every one is to remain and do his
 Lord's work in that state in which  he was called; and so I
 fall to  work again, though, I own, mine  is  one of  the last
 trades  which I should have selected.  But life  will soon be
 over, and we are assured  that no situation presents tempta-
 tions which  the grace of God cannot and will not  enable us
to resist, if  we diligently seek it.  Once  more, my dear sir,
farewell, and in the assurance of every friendly wish,
                  Believe me always sincerely yours,
                                    W. Wilberforce."

  Upon  the 1st of November Mr. Wilberforce returned to
London to be  present at the opening of the session.  The
conduct of the French government  during the negotiation
of the summer months, convinced him that it was  his duty
as a loyal subject to strengthen the hands of administration ;
and on  the  first night of the  session he made an effective 
190
LIFE of wilberforce.
1797.
reply  to  an extravagant eulogy upon the political conduct
of Mr. Fox.
  Mr Pitt's scheme for raising the supplies came before the
House of Commons upon the 24th of November.
  On  this  subject  he was  now exerting himself greatly.
" Saw very little of Pitt this last week—vexed him by plain
dealing.  Talked with others on"economy."
  He  writes " It has long been  my opinion, that next  to the
violence  of opposition, this country has most to dread from
the unbounded acquiescence  of those who support adminis-
tration.   I have been urging  these considerations in private
upon  Mr. Pitt,  but unless  my hands  are strengthened,  I
doubt of my success. He is really—I say it solemnly, appeal-
ing to Heaven for the truth of  my declaration—in my judg-
ment  one of the most public-spirited  and upright, and the
most  desirous of spending the nation's money economically,
and of making sacrifices for the general good, of all the men
I ever knew : but I have met only with two or three (except
truly  religious men) who have been  able to  do obnoxious
duties, and above  all to act  in opposition to the feelings  of
false honour, by resisting the improvidence and restraining
the weakness of colleagues."
  And again "  I have  been  writing to the Speaker and  to
Pitt, confirming one and urging the other to a relinquishment
of a portion of  their income during the war."
  These subjects  he continued  to urge  upon the  minister.
" Saturday, Dec. 2nd.  Dined at the Speaker's—large party
—talked much with Pitt.  Hatsell speaking of general corrup-
tion.  9th. Much serious talk with Pitt, stating the necessity,
of economy, and preventing profusion and jobs."  " You may
perhaps think," he wrote afterwards, " that I was disposed  to
be  liberal at the expense of others in advising ministers and
official men to give up  a part of their incomes ;  but in truth
though I  originally contended against encouraging the  volun-
tary contributions as a general measure, yet  when they had
been  set on  foot, I subscribed at the Bank what, with my
assessed taxes  which are extremely low, amounted to near
an  eighth of my clear  income, and also  contributed  in my
parish, and for  Mrs. Wilberforce in the ladies' subscription."
   Whilst the Assessed  Tax Bill  was passing  through the
House, he  was  " exerting" himself" to prevail upon the mer-
chants and bankers in the city, to bring forward in the com-
mercial world a proportionate  impost upon all property."
   His support  of the Assessed Taxes Bill was of great im- 
1797.
supports pitt's ministry.
191
portance to the ministry; as it evinced the judgment of an
independent man in favour of its absolute necessity.   " No-
thing," he declared, " can make me support it, but the con-
sciousness that we have no alternative.  I dread the veno-
mous ranklings which it will produce, during the three years
of its operation."
  The part  he took rendered  him peculiarly obnoxious to
the opposition, and in the debate upon the final passing of
the Bill, Mr. Fox charged him with indulging in acrimonious
personalities.  " Fox," he says, " unjustly accusing me.  Un-
easy—fearing that I had  been guilty."  " I was sadly dis-
turbed," he  writes afterwards,  upon a fuller examination of
his  conduct, " at  Fox's imputations—too  much, alas,  on
scrutinizing, from  the fear of losing credit with all, even the
moderate oppositionists.  But I think I can appeal  to  God
that his charge was false, and that I  feel even good-will to
him.  Oh may I learn to distrust and keep my heart with all
diligence."
  Having just rendered him such  material service,  he  was
much hurt by Mr.  Pitt's conduct on the night the Bill passed
through  committee,  in rejecting  some slight  exemptions
which he pressed earnestly upon  him.   " Dec. 30th. House
very late on Assessed  Taxes.  I sparred with Pitt, and he
negatived  several  exempting  clauses.   I  much cut,  and
angry."   " Alas !  alas !" is  his reflection  on the following
day, " with  what shame ought I to look at myself! What
conflicting passions yesterday in the House  of Commons—
mortification—anger—resentment,  from  such  conduct in
Pitt; though  I ought  to expect it from him, and can well
bear with his faults towards God—all these feelings working
with.anger  at myself, from the consciousness that I  was not
what a  Christian  should be.  Oh what  a  troubled state !
When I got home I prayed to  God, and looked to Him for
help through Christ, and have in  some measure found my
heart restored to peace and love, to reconciliation, (which in
the House was but hollow I fear,) and to a desire of return-
ing good for evil, of being above the little slights and ruffle-
ments of this life, looking upwards and forwards. Yet  even
still I find my heart disposed to harbour angry thoughts.  I
have found  the golden rule  useful in  quieting my mind—
putting myself in  Pitt's place, &c.  May this  teach me to
know myself, to walk more watchfully, to seek more  earnest-
ly for strength, help, and peace, and love, and the meekness
and gentleness of Christ.   Oh may God guide me." 
192
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1797.
   Though he had been so much occupied by public business
 since his return to London, yet his letters and journals refer
 continually to other  important  engagements.  " Dined and
 slept at  Battersea Rise," he enters on Nov. 9th, " for Mis-
 sionary meeting—Simeon—Charles  Grant—Venn.  Some-
 thing, but not much, done—Simeon in earnest."  This was
 the first  commencement  of a  plan  for promoting enlarged
 missionary  exertion, to  which  he  had recourse upon  the
 failure of his efforts to obtain  by vote  of parliament some
 national provision for Christianizing  India.   It occupied his
 attention for the two following years, and issued in the year
 1800, in the Church  Missionary Society for Africa and  the
 East.
   "  I may  be indispensably occupied to-morrow, (December
 31st,) so let me now look back on the past year, and bless
 God for its many mercies. Oh how wonderful are His ways !
 An eventful year with me—my book—my marriage—health
 restored in sickness.  How ungrateful have I been, and how
 often tempting God to withdraw from me ! But His mercy
 endureth for  ever; and the vilest, prostrating himself before
 Him with penitence and faith in the  blood of Jesus, may ob-
 tain  remission of his sins, and the Spirit of renewing grace.
 This is my hope—here I rest  my foot.  Friends died this
 year—Eliot—Dr. Clarke—Joseph Milner.   I  still  spared.
 How strongly  do these  events teach us that  the time is
 short! Oh ! may I learn  and be wise.  Public events—mu-
 tiny terminated—Dutch victory. I will go to pray, and hum-
 ble myself before God.   The  lessons I have learned of my
 defects teach me to strive earnestly against pride ; inordinate
 love of the favour of man ; every feeling of malice; selfish-
 ness in not judging fairly between others and myself; above
 all, earthly-mindedness, not having my mind raised  above
 the region of storms. May I learn wisdom and watchfulness
 from past  falls, and so grow in grace.  Oh  what a blessed
 thing is the Sunday for giving us an  opportunity of serious
 self-examination, retrospect, and drawing water  out  of the
 wells of salvation !"
   The Christmas recess was spent  by him  at Bath,  where
 he complains that his " time was frittered away in calls and
 dining out.  Let me  try to get more time for meditation and
 Scripture.  I have read barely a chapter each day through
this hurrying week.  Dining but every  day  has a bad effect
on the mind ; I will try to dine  at home, at least once, and
if I can twice every week."  " Entire solitude I find a diffe- 
1798.
SUNDAY ASSOCIATION.
193
rent thing from even being with my wife only; it seems  to
give me over  more  entirely to the power, and  throw me
more  absolutely upon the mercy of God.  O what  cause
have I for gratitude ! but my heart has been cold—it is over-
grown with weeds; may God enable me at this crowded
place  to live to His  glory."   " This morning I thought 1 felt
some  of the powers of the world to come when I went  to
church.   G. broke in upon my walk intended for meditation.
I have  found this  week the benefit  of reading Scripture
almost daily."
  Many important  matters now claimed a share of  his  at-
tention.  He still acted  as a director of the  Sierra  Leone
Company : and  that infant colony, struggling with peculiar
difficulties, and  visited with the ravages of European war-
fare, was  a source of ceaseless anxiety to its  conductors.
" We have been," he writes to the Governor, " what we call
unfortunate in having our ships so often captured, &c.: but
we are  a little prone (perhaps not a little) to expect to be
secured by Providence  against the common accidents to
which human beings are liable, when  engaged in works of
piety and charity.   It should  cure  us of this erroneous esti-
mate of things to recollect that St.  Paul, in recapitulating his
sufferings, not only enumerates stoning and the malice of
men, but  ' thrice was 1 shipwrecked, a night and a day have
I been  in  the  deep.'  In short, Providence  seemed to fight
 against him, as well as  a world which  was  not worthy of
 him."
   At home he was still the watchful guardian of public mo-
 rals,  and  at this time was especially engaged in  an attempt
 to  promote the better observance of the Sunday.   " March
 12th. All morning at the  Bishop of Durham's on Sunday Bill.
 13th. Bishop  of London's—Sunday Association—long  dis-
 cussion—Archbishop unwilling."   The result of these  de-
 liberations was  the suspension of all attempts at legislative
 interference, and the adoption of a voluntary  engagement
 to  promote the observance of the  day.  Much  was effected
 by this effort:  many amongst the  highest ranks made the
 declaration, and faithfully observed their pledge.  One great
 object at the present moment was to stop the Sunday enter-
 tainments of the  Speaker  of the  House of Commons ;  but
 the attempt was almost defeated by the  too forward com-
 munications of some who were privy to the consultation.
    "March 21st. Bishop of Durham's.  The king to have the
 declaration laid before him  by the Bishop of London.  Bishop
                            17 
194
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1798.
of Durham's early on Proclamation sub-committee—Bishop
of London's report.   The King heard him out and turned
the conversation.   The Bishop of Durham tried the Speaker
but in vain."   " Evening to the Speaker on Sunday declara-
tion plan ;  he very  unreasonably angry—I  deeply moved
and much hurt.   Stayed late with him, and afterwards could
not get to sleep."  " Interview with  the  speaker, who ex-
tremely offended  at the declaration, and being asked to
change [the] day [of his parliamentary meetings], ' Personal
insult,' &c.   I told him that it was not so meant.   The at-
tempt has failed, but I hope God will accept it."
  He mixed too upon principle as much  as he was able in
general  society.
  " I am much  disturbed between a sense of the necessity
of not giving up  the world, and the  evil effects from my
present  great intercourse with it  both to  my heart and un-
derstanding."   " Many  doubts about company,  whether I
ought not in great measure to  give it up."   The secret of
his  maintaining an untainted spirit  in this full bustle of
worldly distractions may be found  in the motive from which
alone he mixed  in them, and in the habits of self-communing
which he carefully maintained.   The perfect rest of succeed-
ing Sundays ..." I feel the comfort of Sunday very sensibly
to-day."  " Oh it  is a blessed thing to have the Sunday de-
voted to God"  . . . was of great service  to  him here; and
the  full entries of his  Journal are a searching review of his
conduct and spirit through the week.
  " This last  hurrying week has kept and now leaves mv
soul in a sad state.  How little does my heart seem to  have
its affections above !   I doubt about giving up much of this
raffled hurrying system.   May God for Christ's sake guide
and support me.   Last week, angry  from pride at Pitt and
the  Speaker—vain in regard to Belsham's letter.   Oh  what
a multitude of mercies have I to be thankful for !  Compare
my  lot with K.'s."
  " This last week, in which  I  hoped so much to be done,
has gone by, and  how little got through !  And though
my affections this day  are  a good  deal  called forth, how
little have I of late been under the influence of real Chris-
tian tempers!  How sadly  defective am  I in humility!
When I look into myself 1 find myself poor indeed,  com-
pared with my highly-favoured state; but how little do I
feel this  habitually !  How fond  am I of distinction (my
constitutional vice)!   This would not be, if I was tiuly  hum- 
1798.             PRIVATE REFLECTIONS.               195

ble within, at the core. Here meditation daily, or as frequent
as might be, would do much.   Let me try for it.   Oh may
this day be of lasting service to me !  and at this time, when
probably war and tumult are at hand, may I serve God  and
fear nothing.  May I boldly walk in  the might of the Lord,
and sigh and cry for the abominations done in the land. May
I grow in humility, peace, and  love, in meekness, holy  cou-
rage, self-denial, active exertion, and  discreet zeal."  " I feel
a firm confidence, that if through God's grace I am enabled
to keep  close to Him  in love,  fear, trust, and  obedience, I
shall go on well ; most likely even in this life, being perhaps
remarkably  preserved from evil:  but at all events I shall  be
supported under whatever may be laid  upon me.  These are
days in which I should especially strive to grow in prepared-
ness for changing worlds,  and for  whatever sharp trials I
may be called to.  Oh what humiliation becomes me wdien I
think of my innumerable mercies !"  " I resolve to be up  in
time to  have an hour before breakfast for serious meditation,
prayer, and  Scripture preparation for these dangerous times ;
also more time for unbroken thought;  half or three-quarters
of an hour on  parliamentary topics."
   His marriage interfered far less than might have been ex-
pected  with his various occupations.   " The  cause of my
long silence,"  he  tells  his sister, " has been really, as I  be-
lieve, my having been more than even commonly busy. . . .
How fast time  and life too rolls away !   It seems but a span
 since we  were together at  Hull;  and more than six months
 have since  gone over our  heads.   My hours  have  passed
pleasantly;  greatly indeed have I reason to  be thankful  for
the  signal  blessing  which Providence last  year  conferred
upon me.   My dearest wife bears my hurrying way of  life
 with great sweetness ; but it would be a sort of gaol delivery
to her no  less than to myself to escape from the tumult of this
bustling town, and retire to the enjoyment of country scenes
 and country occupations.   But I am well aware that it  is  not
 right for me to indulge in such reveries.  My business is  cut
 out  for me, and Providence has graciously blessed me with
 the means of being cheered under it; which  means I should
 do wrong to pervert into a source of indolent self-enjoyment,
 flinching from my collar and  refusing  to draw my load  be-
 cause a little weary of being in the harness.   At all times in
 which one feels this sense  of weariness, and  longs for quiet-
 ness and  peace, one should endeavour to make it subservient
 to the purpose of raising one's mind heavenward, and of es- 
196
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1798.
tablishing a practical feeling of the vanity and transitoriness
of all human things, and of this life being but a passage, and
our home that ' rest that remaineth for the people of God.' "
  Early  in the spring he again brought  the Abolition ques-
tion  before  parliament.   April 3d.    " Busy preparing for
Slave motion, which made.   Fox, Grey, Sheridan, &c. came.
Thought we had carried it—83 to 87."  The debate  was
again long and  earnest, and the West  Indian opposition still
fought under the cover of apparent concession. The horrors
of the Trade were now candidly admitted by Mr. Bryan Ed-
wards and his followers, who contented themselves with the
safer objection, that a vote of Abolition  would only substitute
an illicit for a legal traffic.  .
  Though defeated on the division, " on the  whole," says
Mr. Wilberforce, " we got ground."   This  conviction  ren-
dered the present and succeeding year a period of the most
active exertion in the cause.   It was resolved to propose the
immediate Abolition of the Trade along the northern coast of
Africa.  Upon the 4th of May, the measure was brought for-
ward by Mr. Henry Thornton;  but the session was found
to be too far advanced, and the House too full of  business,
for its present consideration ;  and on the 18th of June it was
deferred until the following session.
  As the season advanced  the Diary  exhibits his usual
amount of daily occupation, with slight notices of the most
important amongst passing events.
  May, "27th. Whitsunday.  Pleasant day, spent as Sundays
should be.  28th. Ashley came in at my dressing  time, and
brought word of Pitt and Tierney's duel  yesterday.  I more
shocked  than  almost ever.   I resolved  to  do something if
possible.  30th. To town.  Found people much alive about
duel, and disposed to take it  up.  I gave notice [of a  motion
on the subject in the House of Commons].  Letter from Pitt,
evening."

                 TO W. WILBERFORCE, ESQ..

" My dear Wilberforce,
  I am not the person to argue with you on a subject in
which  I  am  a good deal concerned.   I hope too that I
am  incapable  of doubting your  kindness to me  (however
mistaken I may think it) if you let any sentiment of that sort
actuate you on  the present occasion.   I  must suppose  that
some such feeling  has inadvertently  operated upon  you, 
1798.
pitt's duel.
197
 because whatever may be your general sentiments  on sub-
 jects of this nature, they can have acquired no new tone  or
 additional argument from any thing that has passed in this
 transaction.  You must be supposed to bring this forward
 in reference to the individual case.
   In doing so, you will  be  accessory in loading one of the
 parties with unfair and  unmerited obloquy.  With respect
 to the other party, myself, I feel it a real duty to say to you
 frankly that your motion  is  one for my removal. If any step
 on the subject is proposed in parliament and agreed to, I
 shall feel from that moment that I  can be of more use out  of
 office than in it; for  in it, according to the feelings  I enter-
 tain, I could be of none.  I  state  to you, as I think I ought,
 distinctly and explicitly what I feel.   I hope  I need not re-
 peat what I always feel personally to yourself.
                               Yours ever,
                                         William Pitt.
  Downing Street, Wednesday,
   May 30th, 1798, 11 P.  M."

  The hope which had led Mr. Wilberforce, in spite of all
his personal feeling, to give  notice of his motion  had now
almost  deserted  him.  Instead of being able to  carry  a
strong resolution against the principle of duels, through the
general feeling  which had been excited by an apprehension
for the safety of Mr. Pitt, he found that the fear of censuring
the minister would lead many to defend the system in order
to screen the man. He began therefore to doubt the wisdom
of persevering  in  his motion.  "June 1st. To town to-day
and  yesterday,  and back in the evening.  Much discussion
about duel  motion.   Saw Pitt and others—all pressed me
to give it up.  Consulted Grant and Henry  Thornton, and
at length resolved to give  it  up, as not more than  five or
six would support me, and not more than one or two speak,
and  I could only have carried it  so  far, as for preventing
ministers fighting duels. June 2d.  Being resolved, I wrote to
Pitt to give it up."

             TO THE  RIGHT HON. WILLIAM PITT.

" My dear Pitt,
  I scarcely need assure you  that I  have given  the  most
serious and impartial consideration to  the question, whether
                         17* 
198
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1798.
to persist in  bringing  forward  my  intended  motion or to
relinquish it.  My own opinion  as to the propriety of it in
itself, remains unaltered.  But being also convinced that it
would be productive on the whole  of more practical harm
than practical good, and that it would probably rather impair
than advance the credit of that great principle which I wish
chiefly to keep in view, (I mean  the duty of  obeying the Su-
preme Being, and cultivating His favour,) I have resolved to
give it up; and when thus resolved, I cannot hesitate a mo-
ment in sending you word of my determination. At the same
time, I shall be much obliged to  you  if you will not mention
my resolution generally, though  you may, where you may
think it necessary ; but for many reasons I do not wish it
to be  publicly  known till  it is heard  from  myself.   The
Speaker is the only person of our town friends,  to whom I
shall open myself at present.
  I am sure, my dear P. that I  need not tell you that  the
idea of my being compelled by duty to do any thing painful
or embarrassing to you has hurt me not a little; but I know
you too well not to be sure that even you yourself would
not wish me to be influenced by this consideration aga-inst
the dictates of my conscience.  I will only hint the pain  you
have been the occasion of my suffering on the subject itself,
which I had intended to bring into discussion.    I will only
say, that whatever  mischiefs may hereafter flow from it, will
not  be imputable to rne.  It is my sincere  prayer, my dear
Pitt, that you may  here be the honoured  instrument of Pro-
vidence for your country's good, and for  the well-being of
the civilized world; and much more  that you may at length
partake of a more solid and durable  happiness and honour
than this world can bestow.  I am, and I trust I ever shall be,
              Your affectionate and faithful Friend,
                                    W. Wilberforce.
   Broomfield, Sat, June 2.1798."

  " Received an answer from Pitt  that he  was greatly re-
lieved by my relinquishment—he seriously ill."
  " Monday, June 4th.  Stayed away from court on account
of motion impending.   The King asked the Speaker if I per-
severed.  Pitt told me the King approved of his conduct.
5th. To town.  House—declared that I gave up my motion
because no support."
  " 16th. Letter to Sir Christopher Sykeson his rejoinder to 
1798.
LETTER to sir c. sykes.
199
my refusal to ask Pitt for a living for his son—explained to
him frankly and fully."

   TO SIR CHRISTOPHER SYKES, BART. SLEDMERE, YORKSHIRE.

                         " Broomfield near London, June 16, 1798.
" My dear Sir Christopher,
  Amidst  the various  feelings  which  your  last  letter
excited, there were  none, I  can truly assure you,  which
were  not of a friendly quality, and I was highly gratified by
the frankness and candour with  which  you  opened your
mind  to me.   I did  not receive it till late the  day before
yesterday, on my arrival in town for the House, and yes-
terday I was so much occupied as  to be absolutely prevent-
ed from writing to you.  This morning, (though my having
had several inmates and  visiters at our new residence, near
Clapham  Common,  has  swallowed up my time,) I prefer
scribbling you a hasty reply to suffering you to wait for my
answer till I  have a little leisure.
  The subject  on which I shall have to give you my senti-
ments is one on which, whatever I write, though put down
on  paper in a hurry,  will be the result of deliberate reflection.
I can have no objection, my dear Sir Christopher, to treat
you with  the same frankness you have  used towards  me,
and to state to you  the principles  on which I think  it right
to regulate my conduct in the  case of all ecclesiastical pre-
ferments.  What you say of the minister  and Chancellor be-
ing, in their  capacity of  patrons, trustees for the public,  is a
very  just remark, and shows that you have thought over the
subject so as to  have fixed principles on it.    But there is
another consideration to which, though  I  am sure it must
have been in your mind, you have not so  much adverted in
your letter, and this  therefore I will state as briefly as I am
able.
   As the influence  any man possesses, and  his  opportuni-
ties of usefulness, are all so many  trusts for the employment
 of which he will hereafter have to  give account, so there are
 no opportunities of usefulness which are  trusts from their
 very nature  more weighty and important than the power of
 recommending to any ecclesiastical preferment  which  has
 the care of souls.  To speak seriously,  and  otherwise I
 can  scarcely do justice to  the  argument, the number of
 the  individuals  who  may  be rescued from  eternal mise-
 ry and  brought to the enjoyment of  eternal  happiness, 
 200               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1798.

 and the degree of the eternal happiness even of the  happy,
 must, humanly speaking, depend on the minister set over the
 parish to which they belong.   Therefore, I am bound  to re-
 member, in the disposal of any living, (whether by my own
 presenting to  it  directly, or  by using my influence with the
 patron,) that the interest the parishioners have in the nomi-
 nation is that of  as many persons as the parish consists of,
 and is of an everlasting, infinite value ; that which the cler-
 gyman to be presented to it has in it is the temporal interest
 of one individual.   It follows of course, that I must attend to
 the  two following principles  in  my recommendations to
 church preferment.   1st, That of naming the man whom in
 my  conscience I believe, on the  whole,  likely to do most
 good  in the station to  be filled ; and 2dly, That of  endea-
 vouring to  employ my influence, so as that any given mea-
 sure of it may be productive of the utmost possible benefit.
 This will require  me,  in looking out for pieces of preferment
 about  which to interest myself, to  advert to the size  of the
 parish and its circumstances, to the number and situation of
 the flock, rather than to the value of the pasture; thus en-
 deavouring to place the  most useful man I  can find  in the
 most extensive sphere of usefulness.
   But I must be still  more particular in order  to  give you
 any adequate notion of my sentiments.  It is  my  fixed opi-
 nion, formed on much reading, consideration, and experience,
 that there has been for many years  among  the majority of
 our clergy a fatal and melancholy departure from the  true
 principles of Christianity, and of the Church  of  England;
 from those principles  which prevail throughout her Articles,
 her Liturgy, the writings of  her venerable  martyrs, and of
 many  of her brightest  ornaments.  I am  not  speaking of
 speculative matter; this  declension, or, if I would give it its
 true name,  this heresy,  is important, because  its practical
 effects are in the highest degree mischievous.  I have stated
 this in my late publication as  clearly and as  strongly as I
 could.   The  inference from  it is  obvious.  In selecting a
 minister  for any living it is not enough to know that he is
 diligent  and exemplary in his conduct,  nor yet that his
 talents, knowledge, and manner  of officiating are  every
 thing  that one could  wish, but I  must ask, what are his
 doctrines 1
  I have  said enough to put you in possession of my  prin-
ciples,  and I hope I can add that I have acted on them uni-
formly and without deviation for many years.  In the case 
1798.
GOVERNMENT FAVOURS.
201
of those who have been nearest and dearest  to me, I have
adhered to them.  I will only appeal  in this view to the
instance of Dr. Clarke, whose very laborious living produced
him but about s£250 per annum.   The place was highly un-
pleasant (comparatively speaking) to him, and still more to
my sister.  But  being convinced that he was on many ac-
counts better fitted to do good at Hull  than most other men
would be, or than he would be in  almost any other place,  I
made no other effort for fixing him in any situation more
eligible as to temporals; though I will frankly tell  you that  I
had the deanery of York  in view for him in case he had
lived, as being that for which he was eminently qualified.
  The account I have received of your son from a friend
to whom  he is pretty well known, is in many particulars
highly creditable to him, and such as to allow me not to give
up the hope (a hope which I contemplate with real satisfaction)
of some time or other being instrumental in his preferment.
I shall be very glad to become acquainted with him.  I need
scarcely say that it was a painful effort to me to write to you
the answer I did, and I  am sure I should commence my ac-
quaintance with him  with a bias in his  favour, both from his
general character and my good will towards  you and your
family.
  There  is much more in my mind, but I have not time to
put it on paper, and what is more material is  already said."

   It was only upon general grounds that he now  asked any
such favours at  the  hands of government.  " When I was
a young  man," he  told a  friend who  had requested  his
good offices in favour of a client, " I  own I was often san-
guine in my hopes of obtaining situations under government
for persons, whom, for their own sakes or that of their con-
nexions, I wished to serve.  But a longer acquaintance with
life damped these expectations, and taught me, though slowly,
that a man who would act on my principles and  go on  my
plan, must not expect  to  be successful in this competition.
 Such things are only to be got by an earnestness  and impor-
tunity very unbecoming my situation."
   Parliament was  prorogued  upon the 29th of June, and
 Mr. Wilberforce immediately established himself at Broom-
 field for the summer. " My situation here," he says, " though
 so comfortable, will  require much watchfulness, and plan,
 and circumspection, or my time will  be frittered away, my
 usefulness abridged, and my soul unspiritualized.  I  will 
202
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1798.
 consider well how to turn it to the best  account, and form
 my plan deliberately,  with prayer  for  wisdom and  for
 strength to  keep  my resolutions.   My wife's health abso-
 lutely requires a villa.  A plan of study and an arrangement
 of time to be formed, and  the  business of the recess to  be
 chalked out.  Oh what cause have I for shame, comparing
 myself with my advantages and mercies." " To try this re-
 cess at six hours  between  breakfast and dinner, and two
 hours before breakfast  for thought and  real  business."
 "  Surely,"  he writes  during a sharp  attack of illness with
 which Mrs. Wilberforce was visited, " God is punishing me
 for a feeling of exultation.   ' I said in my prosperity, I shall
 never be moved.   Thou, Lord, of Thy goodness hast made
 my hill so strong.  Thou didst turn away Thy face, and I
 was troubled.' How uncertain are all human things !  I hope
 I feel some Christian resignation,  and  holy reliance  on  the
 mercy and goodness of God and my Saviour."
   While he was here engaged with  " books,  letters, a little
 dictating, and many friends," he received an  account of  the
 illness, and  by the next post of the death, of his aged mother.
 Unwillingly leaving Mrs. Wilberforce,  who was  on the eve
 of her first  confinement, he set off immediately for Hull,  to
 attend his mother's funeral.  " You will join with me," he
 writes to Mrs. Wilberforce from Stamford on his return  to
 Broomfield, " in thanking God  for  His goodness in  having
 thus far  protected me on  my  way.  This morning, at six
 o'clock, I set out with, (in spite of all remonstrances) some
 little pomp, in the funeral procession to Beverley, and the last
 solemn service being ended, I returned to Hessle, and was
 again at Barton by eleven ; and now here I am only eighty-
 nine miles from London, and hoping to be with you on Mon-
 day evening. I shall of course stay here all to-morrow; and
 though, not  having  heard  from  you, some thoughts  and
 wishes about you will steal in, I have a pleasure  in the idea
 of halting, and spending a quiet day in blessing and praising
 that gracious Being, who to me has  been  rich in mercy, and
 abundant in loving-kindness.  Oh that I were more warmly
 thankful and more zealously active !"
   " Monday, up early, and  travelled on as fast as I could ;
got to  Broomfield  by nine o'clock, safely, I thank God, and
found all  well." " My dear  wife," he notes a few  days later,
" is now ill.   How dependent does  this  make me feel upon
the power and goodness of God ! What a humbling impres-
sion have I of my own inability ; that all my  happiness, and 
1798.
LIBERALITY.
203
all that belongs to me, is at the disposal of the Supreme Be-
ing ! So  it ought always to be.  This  is ' to walk softly.'"
" Oh what abundant cause have I for gratitude," he says the
following week: " how well all has  gone on, both with mo-
ther and  child ! I will take a musing walk of gratitude and
intercession.   How full  of mercies  is  God to me, and how
void am  I of gratitude!  How little desirous of diffusing the
happiness so  freely given to  me ! Oh  may I still feel  more
the weight of my burden, charging  it on myself and  press-
ing it  home; placing myself  in Christ's  sight,  in  that of
angels, and spirits of just men made perfect.  O  Lord, renew
me;  let this  corruption  put  on incorruption, even here in
heart, and bring forth the graces of  the Spirit."
  At Broomfield he was  within reach  of his London  busi-
ness,  and was  surrounded  by his friends.  "July  11th.
Burgh  came to dinner—Henry  Thornton—after  it rational
conversation."
  "July  18th.  Montagu came with his family—discussed
affairs  with him, he truly pleasing and philosophical.  Even-
ing, Carrington, very kindly about  my accounts;  he  made
me out richer than I conceived."  This discovery was soon
conveyed in a characteristic mode to Mrs.  Hannah More.

"My dear Madam,
  The letter  you wrote to Mrs. Henry Thornton, concerning
your Mongewell intercourse, has made a deep impression on
me; and though no one can prize  more highly than myself
your services in  Somersetshire, yet 1 believe it would be
right  for you to pay a visit  to the  Prince Bishop, at Auck-
land.*  Henry Thornton and I agree in our judgment, that
you cannot decline this new sphere  of  usefulness.  Do you
remember the idea of a great  man, (I think  Huygens,) that
there might be stars, of which the light,  though always  on its
journey,  had  not yet travelled  down to us.   It  is somewhat
like this with the light of the blessed  gospel, to too many dis-
tricts in this  very country. I wish  you to consider this as
an opportunity of conveying  it into a dark corner of the
island.   Go  then to Auckland, and may the grace of God go
with you.  I am convinced  that, on  many accounts, you
would be able to do far  more than myself, or any other per-
son living,  with  this primary  planet,  which is surrounded

  * Mrs. Hannah More had been invited to assist the Bishop in his benevo-
lent design of establishing schools in his diocese. 
204
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1798.
 with satellites.  It is more, it is a very sun, the centre of an
 entire system.  I will with all my heart meet you there if pos-
 sible.   The Bishop has often invited me and Mrs. W.
   But  I am pressed for time,  and have one point more on
 which I must detain you, I mean the extreme importance of
 your husbanding your strength. I have looked into the state
 of my finances, and  am  in good case in what respects this
 world.  I can appropriate as large a sum as may be requisite
 for your operations. I am clear you ought to purchase ease,
 which is with  you the power of continuing your exertions,
 though at a dear rate, by allowing yourself the accommoda-
 tion of a carriage.   Surely we know each other well enough
 to communicate on this or any  other subject without embar-
 rassment or reserve.  You  ought  to permit the friends of
 your institutions to assist you with  money  to  any extent
 which may be requisite for carrying them on.  What  signi-
 fies it in what shape and for what purpose the money is to
 be applied!  In  the composition and resolution of forces it all
 produces an effect in the required direction.  It is really ab-
 surd that we who affect to be deeply interested for the main-
 tenance of the system, should not give it  the only support
 which  our situation renders us able to afford.  Each partner
 should supply that in which he most abounds : the moneyed,
 money; you and your sisters,  what  is  far more valuable,
 and what no money can procure.   Now do act  if you are
 convinced." ..." I love and admire the zeal of your young
 clergy.  Indeed it refreshes and revives me when sickened
 by the shabby topics and shabby people, great and  small,
 with whom I am of necessity too conversant, to turn rny
 eyes to you and your little Christian communion  of saints.
                   Believe me  ever sincerely yours,
                                    W. Wilberforce."

   " Never distress yourself, my dear Mary," he wrote  this
 summer to another correspondent,  " on  the  ground of my
 being put to expense  on  account of yourself, or your near
relatives; you give what is far more valuable than money-
time, thought, serious, active, affectionate,  persevering at-
tention : and as it has pleased God of  His good providence
to  bless me with affluence, and  to give me the power, and
I hope the heart, to assist  those who are less gifted with the
good things  of  this life, how can I employ them  more pro-
perly than on near relations, and when I strengthen your
hands, who are  always endeavouring to serve their best in- 
1798.
HIS CHARITIES.
205
 terest.  You may say to----, that on your account, I am
 willing to take the charge of Charles's  education for two or
 three years."
   The sums which, as " a good steward," he thus dispensed
 to those who needed, formed a large portion of  his annual
 income.   As a young man, he  had been charitable from the
 natural impulses of a generous spirit.   By an account book,
 which has escaped destruction, he appears to have expended
 in the year 1783, between five and six hundred pounds in
 this  way.   There are in it many such entries as, " Sent to
 the Rev. Mr. Emeson of Keswick, a most  excellent man with
 a  large family, and mean to do  so  annually, a bank note,
 £20."  But his conduct, was no sooner regulated by higher
 principles than he  determined  to allot a fixed  proportion
 of his income (obtained  often by personal  self-denial in small
 things) to works of charity.   Before  his  marriage, at least
 one-fourth of it was so employed ; and in this year the record
 still  remaining (and it is incomplete) accounts for more than
 £2000.  Some of the  particular entries  show the hidden
 channels in which his bounty flowed, cheering many hearts
 who never knew their benefactor.  Besides regular almoners
 for the distribution of small sums, to one of whom in the
 course of this year he intrusted  above a hundred  pounds, he
 was'in the habit of relieving through many others the distress
 which came under their observation.   This he did especially
 in the  case of active  clergymen, in whose hands he often
 placed an annual sum of considerable  amount for parochial
 distribution.  Four of those which occur  this year, and are
 marked annual  expenses,  are for sums of £25, £26, £30,
 and  £40, respectively.   Great  zeal in their vocation consti-
tuted of itself a claim on his assistance, even in districts for
 which he had no local  interest.   " Mr. Charles's schools in
 Wales, annually £21."
  Some of these entries are highly characteristic. " Expenses
 of Mr. Atkinson's act for Leeds church £100."  " Lent  Ro-
 bert  Wells £13, which  never expect again—he  has a wife
and  six children to maintain, and ekes out a scanty income
 by a  trade in old clothes."  "Sent Dr. Chapman five guineas
for a book which not read, and  impertinently sent me;  but
Irving says he is a worthy man, and he must be  distressed
to act in  this manner."    " Sent Captain S. five  guineas (a
gentleman in distress sometimes most of all so)."   " Sent
him ten pounds in addition, which  he said would render him
completely comfortable."  " C,  only justified by my having
                           18 
206
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1798.
 advised him originally to enter  the  law,'v£50."  " Captain
 Pearce £5 5s.  He is but a moderate hand I fear, but in ur-
 gent want."  "Lent M. £100, not  very willingly, because
 though I sincerely wish to serve him, I think this plan of
 paying off all his  debts will not make him economize.  It is
 Mr. Pitt's plan."   " In compliance with my rule I must put
 it down given,  but if he lives I shall receive again from Cap-
 tain Hall, £100."   " Given W. C. £55 on a solemn promise
 that he will never again issue a bill, and not borrow of any
 one without previously informing me.  He is not economi-
 cal, but has a claim on me from having lived in my service,
 and imprudence must be pardoned.  He is sure that from his
 salary he can gradually repay me, but I cannot believe it."
 " Given W. C.  £63 to enable him  to refund what he has
 taken of the Board's money.  I do it only because it would
 be ruin to him  to  withhold it.  I doubt if even under these
 circumstances quite right.  I have  solemnly assured him it
 should be the last time of my assisting him, and have given
 him parting advice.  He has treated me ill in applying only
 £21 of the last £70 I gave him to this purpose.  As I have
 told him plainly, I fear he cannot be saved from ruin. I have
 had much anxiety and vexation from  him, and my only com-
 fort is that I  treat him like a Christian, he me as a man of
 the world. He dislikes  me,  and feels no gratitude to me I
 know for  what  I have done. (Private ; put down as a record
 of my judgment and  feelings.)"  " For Foulay  Expedition,
 £50."  " Rev. Mr. Scott, half a year  of his son's College al-
 lowance, £15."  " Paid Williams's bill for expenses of Dow-
 lin and Devereux's trial, £200."  " Remainder of Williams's
 bill unfairly coming upon  me,  £500."   " For  St. Anne's
 School annually £31 10*. Od."
 ^ Almost every charitable institution of the metropolis, of
 Yorkshire, and  of many  other parts, (extending in some in-
 stances to Edinburgh,) is included in his list of annual sub-
 scriptions.  He had also regular annuitants. Not a few who
 afterwards acquired independence and wealth were indebted
 to his support for  carrying them through their early strug-
 gles. Two who rose to the judicial bench are this year men-
 tioned as receiving from  him £300.  Besides his contribution
 to the Elland  Society, he supported  readily  young men of
 promise in their  education for Holy Orders ; and through
 every  year of its  protracted continuance  he drew largely
from his  own resources for  the expenses of the Abolition
contest. 
1798.          ORIGIN OF CHRISTIAN OBSERVER.          207

   It was especially  his habit to  relieve those who in the
higher walks of life were reduced to unexpected indigence.
Many  letters acknowledging such  aid, and  tracing to it
oftentimes  escape from ruin, appear in his correspondence.
One such  instance has  been furnished by his  secretary.
" ' Mr. Ashley,' he  once said  to me, ' I have an application
from an officer of the navy who is imprisoned for debt. I  do
not like to send Burgess' (his  almoner) ' to  him, and I have
not time to go myself; would you inquire into the circum-
stances !' That very day  I  went,  and found an officer in
gaol for £80.  He  had a family dependent  on him with  no
prospect of paying  his debt; and as a last hope, at the go-
vernor's suggestion,  had made this application."   Mr. Wil-
berforce  was well known among the London prisons, where,
with the Rev. John Unwin, he had of old often visited and
relieved  the debtors.   " The officer," continues Mr. Ashley,
" had referred him  to Sir Sidney Smith, to whom  he  wrote
immediately.  I was  in the room when Sir Sidney called  on
the following morning.  ' I know the  poor man  well,'  he
said, ' we were opposed to one another on the Baltic, he  in
the Russian, I in the  Swedish service ;  he is a brave fellow,
and I would do any  thing I could for him ; but you know,
Wilberforce,  we officers are  pinched sometimes, and my
charity purse is not very full.'  ' Leave that to me, Sir Sid-
ney,' was his answer.  Mr. Wilberforce paid his debt, fitted
him out, and got  him  a command.—He met an enemy's
ship, captured her,  was promoted ; and within a year I saw
him coming to call in Palace Yard in the uniform of a post
captain."
  He was much occupied at this time  with a plan for setting
up a periodical religious publication which should admit " a
moderate degree of political and common intelligence." " Mr.
Babington and I went this morning to Mr. Henry Thornton's
to breakfast, to talk over the matter of the Magazine and  its
editor.   We concur in opinion that a small  committee, per-
haps not more than three, would form the best editor.  Mr.
Scott is a man of whose strength of understanding, correct-
ness of religious views, integrity, disinterestedness, diligence,
and perseverance,  I think very highly ; he is systematically
opposing the vices, both speculative and practical, of the  re-
ligious world ; and they are many and great, and likely to
be attended  with numerous and important mischiefs. But
Mr. Scott is a rough diamond,  and almost  incapable of
polish from his  time of life and natural temper;  he has not 
208              LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1798.

general knowledge nor taste sufficient for such an  office as
you would commit to him.  We have anatomized several
other subjects, but I have not time to detail to you the result
of our dissection."
   After much consideration and discussion, the first number
of the Christian Observer was published in January,  1802.
Several of its early articles were from the pen of Mr. Wil-
berforce and  Mr. Henry Thornton.
   Early in September  he  left Broomfield, to join the family
of Mrs.  Wilberforce, in Warwickshire.
   After spending a fortnight in Warwickshire, and paying a
hasty visit at Yoxall Lodge, he got by " Oct.  3d,  to  Bath,
through  beautiful  Rodborough vale;  where rejoicings  for
Nelson's glorious victory ;  news of which first met us in  de-
tail  there."  "It  is remarkable," he writes to  Lord  Mun-
caster, "that on the very same day  which brought  your
letter expressing  your confidence in the issue of any naval
engagement under Nelson's auspices, the intelligence arrived
of his most glorious action; the most signal victory  with
which a gracious Providence ever blessed our arms.  The
piety and  naivete  of his letter  would delight you, I am per-
suaded, as it  does  us."  " Are  not you almost as much  de-
lighted with Nelson's letter as  with the victory itself.  It is
the most signal success with which Providence ever crown-
ed our naval  efforts."
   At Bath, finding "the waters agree well," he  remained
above a month, " much in  society," and engaged in reading
" Locke  with my wife and sister, Coxe's Walpole, Mon-
tesquieu, Roman History, Wakefield's Life, Bible, and much
time in letters."
  It was  the natural  consequence of his public character,
that those who were in any difficulty, especially if it was
connected with religion, applied at once to him  as the  re-
dresser  of their wrongs.  The Sunday  drilling which had
just been introduced  into the Channel  Islands, was  most
offensive to the religious principles of the Wesleyan Metho-
dists; and their refusal to conform to the appointment of  the
local government  subjected  them in many instances to fine
and imprisonment.  They  appealed to Mr. Wilberforce, and
whilst still at Broomfield he had seen Mr. Dundas upon  the
subject,  and procured the promise of his interference in their
cause.   He now heard from Dr. Coke, that not only were
these oppressive measures still maintained, but that on  the
18th of October at  the states meeting of the Isle of Jersey, it 
1798.
ABOLITION OF SLAVE TRADE.
209
was determined to proceed to banishment against those who
refused  to  perform  this military duty.   To appeal against
this Bill he moved  hastily to London; and having reached
Broomfield on the 10th of November " went on the 13th  to
town on the Methodist business ;" but found that " neither
Pitt  nor Dundas  were come."   Within a few days he con-
vinced Mr. Dundas  of the injustice, of such a needless viola-
tion  of the rights of conscience,  and after some  delay suc-
ceeded in getting " the Jersey Methodists' cause decided in
their favour—Banishment Bill assent refused."
   Parliament met upon the 20th  of November.
  A severe attack of indisposition confined him to the  house
at the commencement of the session;  but by the 25th of
November he was nearly in his usual health.   " My feeling,
when so ill on Wednesday morning, was, that  I  had  not
been  active enough in the cause  of God : oh let me now
employ  with greater diligence the powers which he has  re-
stored."
  During the remainder of the  Session  he was anxiously
occupied with attendance  upon  the House; supporting the
Irish Union notwithstanding the  opposition of those friends
whose opinions in many things he  valued most highly.
   Upon the 1st of March Mr. Wilberforce brought forward
his motion for the  immediate Abolition of the Slave Trade.
   The sameness  of a contest which had lasted  for eleven
years, was in some degree relieved by the wit of Mr. Can-
ning, and the eloquence of Mr.  Pitt and Mr. Wilberforce.
Having  shown the folly of leaving, as  was  now proposed,
the work of Abolition to colonial legislation, he again brought
before the House  the evils which  its continuance inflicted
upon Africa.  " The coast of that  great continent, for a dis-
tance of four thousand miles, is kept by the influence of this
trade in the lowest  state  of darkness, ignorance,  and  blood.
Such has been the  effect of intercourse with  Europe.   For
contrary to all experience, the civilization of the  interior, is
three centuries advanced.  Yet even there, may be perceived
 some fatal  influence  from this  deadly traffic.   The storm
 upon the surface stirs slightly even the still depths of ocean."
 Again he warned the House not " to provoke the wrath of
 Heaven by this hardened continuance in acknowledged guilt.
 I do not mean, sir, that we must expect to see the avenging
 hand of Providence laid bare in hurricanes and earthquakes;
 but there is an established order in God's  government,  a
 sure connexion between vice and  misery, which through the
                           18* 
 210               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1798.

 operation of natural causes, works out His will and vindi-
 cates His moral government."
   Though defeated by a majority of 84 to 54, he was con-
 vinced  that the  cause was gaining ground, and set himself
 to introduce into the  system  some  immediate mitigation of
 its horrors.
   His health had been unusually delicate this spring.  " A
 serious return," he told Mr. Hey, "of illness, availing itself
 of  the very severe and  cheerless  northeastern blasts, has
 stuck to me more obstinately than usual.   This  has com-
 pelled me to lessen the  number  of my  working hours, and
 has crowded into them such a multitude of  matters, that I
 have been quite unable to clear my way."  This had enforced
 a " private resolution," which  he tells  Lord  Muncaster he
 " had been forced to form, of giving up the dining system:
 for the  evening is the only time  when I can get an hour or
 two of uninterrupted quiet, and I cannot, like Burgh, extend
 my working hours at pleasure ; expend a copious  stream  of
 midnight oil, and then be as fresh the next day as if nothing
 had happened."  This resolution  withdrew him in a measure
 from general society.  More  than  once he mentions in his
 Journal " quiet as  having  had. some good effect  upon his
 heart, in enabling him a little to  realize  unseen things, and
 live more in the fear of God."   " I have been more able to
 bridle my passions, and be more meek and gentle, and reallv
 full of love."
  These impressions he  was most solicitous to deepen,
 setting apart from time  to time a day for abstinence, and
 meditation.  " Saturday at Broomfield  all day.  I  meant  it
 to be a day devoted to God.   The morning serious, by my-
 self though not so completely as I  had wished.  I had refused
 several  friends, but Carlyle came suddenly with offer about
 Lord Elgin, and compelled to see him.  I have with some diffi-
 culty and management kept this day clear, to be  set apart
 for humiliation and devotion, and  such abstinence as  my
 body will bear. I am now about to fall to self-examination, and
 confession, and humiliation; looking into myself; condemn-
ing myself before God, and imploring forgiveness for Christ's
 sake.  Oh  what a terrible array of sins do  I behold when I
 look back !—early renunciation of God; then, many years
 entirely sinful; then, since the good providence of God drew
 me  forth from this depth of iniquity in the autumn of 1785,
 how little  have  I  improved and  grown  in  grace ! Let  me
 now humble myself,  chiefly for  forgetfulness of God, and 
1799.              ABOLITION EFFORTS.               211

Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and invisible things ; for ingrati-
tude to God, though loaded with  mercies, recalled by sick-
nesses ; .. a thousand gracious providences ! I go to prayer,
humbly throwing myself on the promised mercies of God in
Christ."  " Though, I thank God,  I am less sensual than I
was, yet I find my heart cold and flat.  To-day I received
the sacrament,  but  how dead was I!  O God, do Thou en-
lighten me.   May I attain what is real in Christian experi-
ence, without running into a sect,  or party set of opinions."
  As the session advanced, engagements increased upon
him. The Slave Trade Limitation  Bill, which had passed the
Commons on the second of May, was exposed to severe op-
position  in the upper House.  He was continually occupied
in providing the witnesses who were examined at  the bar,
and watching daily over the interests of the Bill. "To Gren-
ville's  about Slave Limitation Bill.  Drew up petition to the
Lords.   Then to city  to  get Sierra  Leone common seal."
" House of Lords—Slave  Bill."   " Dawes and Macaulay
dined  with  me.  Then  House of Lords—Slave  Limitation
evidence."  "June4th.  Did not.go to the birth-day, because
not well, and also Slave Limitation Bill not popular at court.
5th. To Bishop of Durham's—Proclamation Society—read
Report.   House of Lords—Slave  Bill."
   Nothing could exceed the  hearty earnestness with  which
Lord Grenville defended the Limitation Bill.   Unsupported
by the immediate adherents of  the government,  he was  left
to withstand the repeated  opposition of one member  of  the
royal family, the commercial sagacity of Lord Liverpool, and
the sturdy bluntness of Lord  Thurlow; yet he was ready
for every encounter, and maintained the conflict to the last.
While  this Bill was  passing slowly  through  its  different
stages,  Mr. Wilberforce was busy in the Commons with a
measure prepared  by Lord  Belgrave and  himself for sup-
pressing Sunday newspapers.  It was brought  forward  by
Lord Belgrave upon the 27th of May; upon the 30th he suc-
cessfully defended its enactments  from the gibes of Mr. She-
 ridan; but " it was thrown out, June 11th, upon the second
 reading."
   When the Bill was first designed,  Mr. Pitt  had promised
 Mr. Wilberforce his co-operation, but he was persuaded by
 Mr. Dundas to retract his pledge, that government might not
 be weakened by the loss of their unlawful succour; three out
 of the four Sunday newspapers  supporting ministry.  The
 measure, which had almost succeeded in the hands of inde- 
212
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1799.
pendent men, would have been carried through triumphantly
with Mr. Pitt's concurrence.
  Parliament was prorogued upon the 12th of July, and Mr.
Wilberforce retired  to the comparative rest of Broomfield.
" The recess," he says, " is beginning.   Oh may I spend  it
well, and  try more and  more  to devote my understanding,
and  heart, and all my faculties  and powers, to the glory of
God and Christ, being more and more weaned from vanity,
and  the love of this world's praise;  yet more and more ac-
tive, useful, indefatigable, adorning'the doctrine of God our
Saviour.   Oh for more gratitude and love.  Heard to-day of
a clergyman  in the Isle of Wight, to whom  my  book was
blessed.  Oh  praise, praise!"  " We  trust," he wrote to Mr.
Newton who  was leaving London for a while, " that you will
not forget us  in your rural rambles, for I doubt not you have
many an  oratory where  the spreading foliage forms  your
canopy, and the natural sounds of the eountry join with you
in a harmonious chorus of praise.   Farewell, believe me ever
affectionately yours."
  " I could not be quiet  yesterday," he says the day after
his birth-day, " though I got a contemplative walk, and even
to-day I have less time than I could wish  for looking  back
through  the  year,  and awakening pious gratitude for the
multiplied mercies of God.  How often have I been sick and
restored !  How few, if any, days of suffering, either bodily
or mental! My wife and  child going on well, and a daughter
born (July 21st) and doing well. Instances repeatedly  heard
of my book  doing good.  How gracious is  God through
Christ, to fill my cup with blessings,  yet not to lessen or
commute in what is still more important!"
  The time which  he now had  at his  disposal was eagerly
employed in general reading; and the first week of the recess
he was engaged in " letters,  Robertson, Hume,  Bible, &c."
Yet  he was  too near London  to obtain the rest from busi-
ness  and society which  his delicate constitution needed;
and  repeated attacks of  debility with  fever compelled him
to abandon his numerous engagements and seek an increase
of vigour in the repose of the country, and ultimately forced
him  unwillingly to  Bath.  Here he spent four months in full
enjoyment of domestic  life; " with more quiet  than ever
since we married;" " getting through a  good deal of work
and reading." He mixed but little in society ; and only for
some such specific purpose, as, " Oct. 8th—evening to H.'s
at Mrs. H.'s desire—and hoped  with some serious intention, 
1799.
PURCHASES HOUSE AT BATH.
213
but found none.   He looked like a skeleton, yet  gay and
irreligious.   I tried in vain to bring him to close quarters."
  Compelled for a season to give up public life, his Diary shows
that he watched quietly from his retirement the course  of its
troubled waters.
  " Wilberforce has bought a house near Bath," says Henry
Thornton, " which I a little lament,  on the ground of the
bad economy of it; for he is  a man, who, were he in Nor-
way or Siberia,  would  find himself infested by  company ;
since he would even produce  a population, for the sake of
his society, in the regions of the  earth where it is the  least.
His heart also is  so large that he never will be able to refrain
from inviting people to  his house.   The  quiet and solitude
he looks to, will, I conceive, be  impossible, and the  Bath
house will be troubled with exactly the same heap of fellows
as the Battersea Rise one."
  "I  bless  God,"  he tells  Mr. Babington,  "I certainly am
much improved in health since our arrival here ; and we are
now on a plan of great quiet, regularity, and ease.   This is
using the  means, and I desire to  use them with cheerfulness
and gratitude, leaving the event to God.   We  have been
reading, and are still engaged on, Gisborne's Moral Philoso-
phy ; and I am quite pleased I own to be able to say,  that I
think he has fully established his charge  against Paley, and
shown, with great effect, how little such a principle as  gene-
ral expediency is fit for man.  If I mistake not there are
some errors, and I doubt  if he  might not  have made his
charge against Paley still more manifestly valid.   I am glad
to find he is publishing again.   While  he goes on thus, I
will allow him to live in a forest.   I found that so much use
was made of my going to Jay's that I have kept away."
   The  improvement of his  health, and increase of his
knowledge, were not the only ends which he sought to  at-
tain from  this  opportunity of  leisure.    He began and
closed it with a day of more than ordinary devotion, and  his
weekly Diary marks the careful  watch which he kept over
his spirit.   " For some time," he says, " I have resolved to
allot this day to God ; to spiritual exercises, especially  in the
way of humiliation.  Fasting disqualifies me, God knoweth,
for religious communion by disordering  my body, so all I
can do here is to be very temperate.  I am now about, as it
seems, . . but let me remember how uncertain are all  earth-
ly prospects, . . to spend near four months quietly, compared
with my past life;  wherein I shall be able to attend  to  my 
214
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1800.
health, which, next to  my soul's prosperity, it seems right
to make my chief object; and  at the same time to study a
good  deal, and cultivate faculties, my neglect  of which I
number among my  very criminal omissions.   My  objects
therefore in this  day of solemn supplication  and  (in my
measure) fasting, are to beg God's guidance and blessing on
my endeavours to  spend the ensuing interval between this
time and the meeting of parliament, piously, usefully, wise-
ly, holily;  first, however, humbly imploring pardon  for all
my past manifold offences, which  to be particularly noted,
and earnestly supplicating for grace to deliver me from the
bondage of my corruptions.  Then should come praise and
thanksgiving, for the multiplied and prodigious mercies and
blessings of God.   Then resignation and  self-dedication to
God, desiring to submit myself to Him to do and suffer His
will.  Lastly, intercession.
  " To prepare me for all the rest, let  me  open by earnest-
ly praying to Him to bless me in my present  attempts, to
chase away from  me  all evil spirits,  and all wandering
thoughts and worldly interruptions, and to soften, enlighten,
warm, enlarge, and sustain  my heart, and my  spirits also,
that I may not weary in the work, but delight in it, and  re-
joice in the privilege of spending a day in  communion with
my God and Saviour."
  " Last year," he says upon the 5th of January, 1800, " has
been marked with mercies to  me. . . . When  I look back
upon the time  spent  here, it seems but a week or two, in-
stead of since the 28th of October ; and when I look forward
to London life, how do I recoil from it! I humbly hope that
I am resolutely determined for Christ,  and not solicitous
about worldly greatness,  wealth, reputation. .  . And now
that I am on the point of returning to London, I  would hum-
bly pray for a  large measure of grace to enable me to stand
against the world, the flesh, and the devil.   I would humbly
resolve through the Spirit to live by faith, and to go  on dili-
gently, devoutly, humbly, endeavouring to glorify God  and
benefit my fellow-creatures."   In this spirit he  returned to
public life.
  Before he returned to town he wrote to Lord  Muncaster.

                                              "Jan. 7th.
" My dear Muncaster,
  ' Merry Christmases' and ' happy New Years,'  and all
the good wishes that ever were poured forth from the fullest 
1800.
LETTER TO LORD MUNCASTER.
215
reservoir of benevolence within the heart of man ; or rather
which, like some rivers, gushed out spontaneously with a
force not to be resisted ;  all these have inundated me, and
still I remain dry and silent. Oil we know resists water more
than any thing, and if I were polished all  over  with  the
courtly varnish of St. James's, it might be accounted for;
but that a man who has not shown his face at court for these
eighteen  months, should thus  suffer his friends to have so
slippery a hold  of him, is wonderful indeed, and not to be
accounted for on the ordinary principles of human depravity.
Yet, though so long silent, I have  not  been  unfeeling, and
though  I have kept my emotions to myself, I have been
warmed  with cordial good wishes for the happiness of you
and yours. And now, though  somewhat of the latest, accept
my hearty prayers for your welfare here and hereafter.
  The day of meeting approaches. You ask me what is then
to come  forward.  I know not positively, though  I suspect
that the Income Tax Bill  will  be  one of our first  matters ;
and that  the recent correspondence  between the King and
Buonaparte will find us some discussion.  On this head I would
be loath to form a hasty opinion.  But I  must say I was
shocked at Lord Grenville's letter; for though our government
might feel adverse to  any measure  which  might appear to
give the stamp of our authority to Buonaparte's new dignity,
yet I must say that, unless they have some better reason
than I fear they possess for believing that he is likely to be
hurled from his throne, it seems a desperate game to play—
to offend, and  insult, and thereby irritate this vain man be-
yond the hope of forgiveness.  Alas ! alas ! Muncaster,  my
heart aches.  However there  is a perfect home of love, and
peace,  and happiness, and we are  invited  to the enjoyment
of it. Let every fresh proof therefore of the unsatisfactoriness
of human things  have the  effect  of urging  us forward
towards  this one true point of rest with renewed energy.
       Believe me ever affectionately yours,
                                  W. Wilberforce."

   He reached  the neighbourhood  of London upon the 23d
of January, two days after parliament had  met.
   In the debate of February 13th, upon the Suspension of
the Habeas Corpus, he  supported ministers in a speech.
Other business now multiplied upon him. " Much occupied,"
he says, Feb.  17th, "about the scarcity : urging government,
which sadly torpid and tardy—Sheffield and Speaker  our 
216
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1800.
 way.  King but middling.  Dutch expedition debate.  Go-
 vernment made good their point.  Canning clever .  .  genius
 . . but too often speaking, and  too flippant and ambitious.
 All things rising in  price.  What shocking work, Grattan
 and Corry fighting during debate, and Cradock putting the
 sheriff into a ditch, who stopping them."
   " I have been striving," he tells Lord Muncaster, " to pre-
 vail on my Yorkshire manufacturers to make herrings half
 cured a material article of their consumption.  You cannot
 well imagine how much prejudice must be encountered in
 such  an attempt."  The prospect of increasing scarcity ren-
 dered this a gloomy season.  " We know not what times are
 coming on, but if God be for us, who can be against us! Oh
 may I therefore lay up treasure in heaven, and  wait upon
 the Lord."   " Now that He seems about to try His people,
 what  cause have I  to  pray, and gird up the loins of my
 mind ! May I grow in grace, and become more ' meet for the
 inheritance of the saints in light.'  How amiable is  the sim-
 ple, childlike  spirit of Lady Catherine Graham !"   " I have
 much  before me, oh  that God would enable me, and move
 the hearts of others : doubtless I  might  better hope it, if I
 were  deeply earnest in prayer."
   The plan which he was most  anxious  to  persuade the
 minister to sanction, throughout this time of scarcity, would
 have proved no less politic than it was humane.   Instead of
 meeting the present emergency, increased as it was by the
 sudden change  of prices, by  the ordinary machinery  of
 Poor's Rates, and so establishing a dangerous precedent, he
 would have made  an extraordinary grant for cases of ex-
 treme distress:  but he could  not prevail.  " I  am  much
 grieved," he says,  " at Pitt's  languor about the  scarcity.
 They will do nothing effectual.  Great sufferings of the West
 Riding people. I dread lest God have given our government
 over to a spirit of delusion—that they should think of attack-
 ing the Dissenters and Methodists ! I fear the worst.   I am
 very doubtful if we had not better have consented  to treat.
 Chouans seem melted away—Russia gone—Austria too per-
 haps.   Pitt I am convinced has no trust in  me on any reli-
 gious   subject.  To see this design  drawn out in a  bill!
 Never so much moved by any public measure."
  This was  the  impression of a moment of despondency :
 for  though one at least to  whose opinion Mr. Pitt naturally
deferred on questions which concerned religion,  was conti-
nually on the watch to lessen Mr. Wilberforce's influence, it 
1800.
TOLERATION ACT THREATENED.
217
was still great, and in this very instance successful. " There
are ideas," he tells Mr. Hey,  "of materially abridging the
privileges enjoyed under the Toleration Act.  I am persuaded
that restraints would quicken the zeal of the Methodists and
Dissenters to break through them, that, prosecutions would
be incessant, and that the prevalence of the  persecuted opi-
nions and the popularity of* the  persecuted  teachers would
be the sure result. I hope still that I may be  able to prevent
any strong measure from being brought forward.   I am not
at liberty to  open to you."   Two days afterwards he writes,
"All on the  important subject on which I lately wrote to you
remains in statu quo ;  except that the  Methodists  have got
to the knowledge of some measures being in contemplation,
through  Michael Angelo Taylor  at  Durham.   I have kept
them quiet.   I am more and more clear that if the measure
does go forward, the effects will be most important."
  " I told Mr.  Pitt that I  was ready to assent to one re-
striction, namely, that no one should  exercise the office of a
teacher  without  having received a testimonial from  the sect
to which he  should belong.  This would put a  stop to the
practice which  I am told prevails at  Salisbury, and (as  I
heard from  Mr. Jay the dissenting minister) at Bath, of a
number of raw, ignorant lads going out on preaching parties
every Sunday.   I fear the Bishop of Lincoln (this is whisper-
ed to your private ear in the strictest  confidence) will renew
his  attempt next year.   If such a bill as was lately in con-
templation should pass, it would be the most fatal blow both
to church and  state, which  has been struck since the Re-
storation.
  " I believe I before told you, and I  do not  retract the sen-
timent on further reflection, that I place  more dependence
on  Mr.  Pitt's moderation and  fairness  of mind,  (though less
in this instance than in any  other,) than either on the House
of Lords or  Commons.  In short, so utterly ignorant  in  all
religious  matters is the gay world,  and the busy, and the
high, and the political, that any measure government  should
propose  would  be easily carried.  I find  no success in my
endeavours  to convince my friends on the bench, of the ex-
pediency of facilitating the building of  new churches with a
right of patronage.  More  than  once I  have  proposed in
private  a  general law to that effect; but it would answer no
good end to bring forward such a measure  in the  House of
Commons, without having previously secured support for it."
  Among his private papers, there appears  a full statement
                            19 
218
LIFE  OF WILBERFORCE.
1800.
 of the great service to religious peace which he rendered on
 this occasion.   " A member of parliament, who on his ac-
 cession to a large fortune, by his father's death, discontinued
 the practice of the legal profession, but who acted as a ma-
 gistrate with a considerable sense of his own importance, got
 into a quarrel with a person who  came to be licensed as  a
 dissenting  teacher.  Finding the  applicant  very ignorant,
 and somewhat forward, he at first resisted the man's claim,
 but discovering that the law clearly entitled him to a license
 on paying the specified fee of Is. or 6d , he warmly exclaim-
 ed, that  if such was the law then, it should not so continue.
 Accordingly he considered how best to introduce some dis-
 cretionary power  to magistrates,  in the granting or  with-
 holding of dissenting ministers' licenses.  His purpose reach-
 ed the  ears of  the Methodists and Dissenters of the  city
 which he represented in parliament, and he soon found  that
 if he should persist in his endeavour, it would be at  the ex-
 pense of his seat.   His intention had perhaps been rather the
 effervescence of the moment, than  the deliberate result of
 that consideration which so  serious a subject might well  re-
 quire.   He  set  himself therefore to  devise how best to get
 out of the difficulty, and through what medium I never heard,
 he actually prevailed  on Mr. Pitt's government, indeed on
 Mr. Pitt himself, to adopt his measure.  The precise nature
 of the regulations I cannot recollect with certainty, but I am
 positively sure,  that they tended materially  to  restrict the
 freedom  hitherto enjoyed by  Protestant Dissenters, and a fine
 for the first offence, and imprisonment for the second, were
 the sanctions by which  they were to be enforced.   The in-
 telligence that some such measure was about to be proposed
 to parliament, reached the  ears of some of the dissenting
 ministers, from one of whom I believe it was that I received
 the first intimation of the design.
   " I lost no time in conferring with Mr. Pitt on the subject,
 but he had  been strongly biassed in favour of the  measure
 by Bishop Prettyman, on whom I urged in vain the  serious
 consequences that must infallibly ensue.  I well remember
 stating to him my firm persuasion,  that within a few weeks
after the passing of the intended law, several of the dissent-
ing ministers throughout the  kingdom, most  distinguished
for talents and  popularity, would be in prison ; and 1 urged
on him, that even supposing them  not to be actuated by a
sense of  duty, for which I myself gave them credit, or to be
cheered by the idea of suffering for righteousness' sake, they 
1800.          TOLERATION ACT THREATENED.            219

would be more than compensated for all the evils of imprison-
ment by their augmented popularity.   The Bishop, however,
would  not  assent  to my view of the  case, and  finding Mr.
Pitt intended to bring the measure forward, 1 begged I might
have a full  confidential discussion of  the subject.  Accord-
ingly we spent  some hours together at a tete-a-tete supper,
and  I confess I never  till then knew how deep a prejudice
his mind had conceived against the class of clergy to whom
he knew me to be  attached.
  " It was  in vain  that I mentioned to him Mr. Robinson of
Leicester, Mr. Richardson of York, Mr. Milner of Hull, Mr.
Atkinson of Leeds, and  others  of similar  principles : his
language was such as  to  imply that he thought ill of their
moral  character, and it clearly appeared  that the prejudice
arose out of the confidence he reposed in the Bishop of Lin-
coln.  I remember proposing to  him, to employ any friend
whose  mind should not already have received a  bias on
either  side, to visit the several places I  had mentioned, to
inquire into their characters,  and to ascertain the principles
and  conduct of their adherents,  adding  my  confident per-
suasion that both their moral and political principles would
be found favourable to  the peace and good order of society ;
indeed I went further, and alleged that they were in general
friendly to  his administration, from believing  these to be pro-
moted by its continuance.   All  however was  of no avail,
and  all I could obtain from Mr. Pitt was  an  assurance that
the  measure should not be actually introduced without his
giving me  another opportunity of talking the matter  over
with him.   Happily that  opportunity never occurred ; of
course  I was  in no  hurry to  press for it; and the attempt
never  was  resumed; but  some years  after, when Lord Sid-
mouth's memorable bill was in progress, which excited such
an immense ferment and produced a vast number of petitions
by which  it was  defeated in the  House of Lords, Lord
Redesdale  (formerly Sir  John Mitford) stated,  that he well
remembered that during Mr.  Pitt's administration a stronger
than the bill then in progress  had  been in  contemplation, and
that he did not know why it  had  been dropped.  I must say
considering every thing  I have always been  extremely
thankful for any share I had in preventing the introduction of
this scheme."
   He was  much " hurt,"  he tells Mrs. Hannah  More  this
session, at  the defeat  of  another measure bearing upon the
moral interests of the people.  " Sir  William Pulteney, who 
 220               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1800.

 brought forward the bill to suppress bull-baiting at  the in-
 stance of some people in the country, (I declined because I
 am  a common hack in such services,  but I promised  to
 move it if nobody else would,)  argued  it like a parish offi-
 cer, and never once mentioned the cruelty.   No summonses
 for attendance were sent about as is usual.  In consequence
 not one, Thornton, nor many others, were present, any more
 than  myself.   I had received  from  some county magistrates
 an account of barbarities practised in this  generous pastime
 of Windham's, which  would be surpassed only  by the tor-
 tures of an Indian warrior. A Surrey  magistrate told a friend
 of mine yesterday, that some people met  for a boxing  match,
 and the magistrates proceeding to separate them, they threw
 their hats into the air, and declaring  Mr. Windham had  de-
 fended boxing in parliament, called out, ' Windham and  Li-
 berty.'   A strange and novel  association, by the way ! Can-
 ning, to do him justice, was ashamed of himself, and told me
 when I showed  him the account of cruelties, (which  Wind-
 ham read coldly,) that  he had no idea of  the real  nature of
 the practice he had  been defending.  Alas! alas ! we bear
 about us multiplied plague spots, sure indications of a falling
 state."
   "A letter from Rossie Castle," he writes at the same time
 to Mr. Ross, "finding me stewing in  this crowded and dusty
 city  in the middle of a delightful summer day, excites a natu-
 ral longing for lakes, and mountains,  and shady retreats, and
 other such luxuries of nature.   But we have all our several
 posts, and, whether in town or country, '  the time is short,'
 and  we have much to do in it."
   Summer was now far  advanced, but the House  was still
 sitting,  and this long continuance of business greatly ex-
 hausted  his strength.   " I had serious thoughts," he says,
 July 23d, " of  attending the assizes this summer, but  parlia-
 mentary business is  not yet  quite at an end, and we have
 sat so late that I shall  have but a short time for ' pruning my
 feathers and letting grow my wings.' In  truth,  both body
 and  mind with  me, and understanding too, call for a little
 quiet after the  incessant turmoil and  drudgery in  which they
 have  been engaged for six or  seven months." " I feel  myself
 a good deal shattered, and reminded of the  necessity of more
regularity and  care than I have of late observed."  " I pant
for a little quiet, and think I feel a  more than ordinary lan-
guor permanently; however the promises of the gospel fail
not, yet whenever I look back upon the little I have hitherto 
1800.
BOGNOR.
221
done in  life,  I long to be more executive in what remains."
Upon the 22d of August he was on his road into the country.

                                   " Leatherhead, Aug. 22.
" My dear Muncaster,
   My life has been one continual  worry for some time past,
and I quite pant for a little rest.  I have been  paying and
receiving a few visits round the capital,  though  still a bank-
rupt  in civilities ;  and we are now on our way to Bognor
Rocks, that my wife and the  children may breathe sea air,
after repeated illnesses.   In  the  beginning of  October  we
design to move to  Bath.   A  box  full of unanswered letters
accompanies  me, but before I enter on  the task of replying
to them, I will  break the long silence I have observed to
you."
   Soon after  his arrival he wrote to Hannah More.

                                       " Bognor, Aug. 29.
" My dear Friend,
   I am in a course of answering a box full of letters,  which
have long reproached me for my negligence, but let me steal
for a while from them, and their comparatively uninteresting
subjects, and refresh myself  by a few minutes' intercourse
with you.  Indeed I  am ashamed of not having sooner  re-
plied to your  last very interesting report.  But first  a few
words of my  own proceedings.
   We spent  three or four days with  Lady Waldegrave,
thence we came back to Broomfield to receive a  visit or two,
and at length, with no small  difficulty, we got off with my
budget  at  my  back, and  by slow  but laborious journeys
arrived at this quiet  place on  Saturday last.   Henry joined
us on Wednesday, and Mrs. Thornton and Mirny yesterday.
So here  we are reading and discussing, and through the
mercy and overflowing goodness of God, enjoying ourselves
not a little.   We seem only too happy.   It really shocks me
to think that  the flames of war still rage, and that there are
multitudes who do not get off for an additional ten per cent.
paid to the tax-gatherer, but who are subject to all its alarms,
and dangers,  and miseries. Oh be thankful that a gracious
Providence has cast your part in pursuits so different.  You
are bold  people to be thus flying at new game.   Yet I give
you so much  credit for discretion, as to believe you would
not  be too adventurous, and  without spirit nothing is to be
done.  I am really much obliged to you for your kind frank-
                          19* 
222
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1800.
ness in calling on me for my debt;  I will send you £50 in a
day or two, indeed I have taken measures for it immediately.
  Poor Mrs. Montagu is  gone.  It is  an awful migration!
Our friends were indefatigably assiduous in their care of her.
Our  whole house joins in  every kind remembrance to you,
Lieutenant-General Patty, and the whole family.  May God
bless you, guide you, and keep you.  It is the'cordial  wish
and frequent prayer of your
                Affectionate and sincere friend,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  " What blessings," he says to Mr. Stephen, " do we enjoy
in this happy country!  I am reading  ancient history, and
the pictures it exhibits of the vices and  miseries of man,  fill
me with mixed emotions of indignation, horror, and grati-
tude ; and when I look on the  water, and consider that  the
sea only  is interposed between me and France..!   But  I
am much pressed for time, and have no leisure for lucubra-
tions."
   " Since we have been  here," Mr. Henry Thornton tells
Mrs. H. More, " we have  been chiefly  reading history, and
talking with Wilberforce over many points, left short through
the hurry of our London life."   This  rest  in the bosom of
his  family and with the  society of  Mr. and Mrs. Henry
Thornton, was most refreshing to his spirit.  " We are all,"
he says, Sept. 11th, "I  thank God, pretty well, and living
more quietly  than  common, to my  no small satisfaction."
But  this  repose was not to last long.   "  Perhaps," wrote
Dr. Milner, (Sept. 19th,) " these wonderful smiles are for some
future trial: continue to watch." This very  letter found him
in the deepest  anxiety, which  he thus imparted to Hannah
More.

                                      " Bognor, Sept. 27.
" My dear Friend,
   I am unwilling you should learn from any other pen, that
it has pleased God to visit my dearest Mrs. Wilberforce with
a very dangerous fever. I am told the final issue is not likely
to be very speedy, but that from the violence of the outset, I
have every reason for apprehension, though not for despair.
But  oh, my dear friend,  what an unspeakable blessing to be
able humbly to hope that to my poor wife, death would be a
tran.slation from a world  of sin and  sorrow, to a region of
perfect holiness and never-ending happiness !  How soothing 
1800.          ILLNESS OF MRS. WILBERFORCE.           223

also to reflect that her  sufferings are not only allotted but
even measured out by a Being of infinite wisdom and good-
ness, who  loves her, I trust ! ay, better than a dear child is
loved  by an earthly parent.  I am sure you will all  feel for
me, and  pray for me, and  for my poor dear sufferer.
   Mr. and Mrs. Henry Thornton are all  kindness and  con-
sideration for  us.  I am not  sufficiently used to sick-beds,
and it is extremely affecting to me to hear her wildness and
delirious distresses, and sometimes fancies, mixed with  her
usual  kind looks and gentle acquiescence.  May we all be
ready, and at length all  meet  in  glory; meanwhile, watch
and pray, be sober, be vigilant; strive to enter in, and assur-
edly we shall  not be shut  out. I had used to say such words
as these, not I hope wholly without meaning; but how much
more  forcibly are they impressed on  the mind by the near
 view of death to which I am brought!  God  bless you all.
 The grace of our  Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God,
 and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with us all.
                             Yours always,
                                    W. Wilberforce."

    " You will, I am sure," he tells another friend three days
 later, " hear with  no little  emotion, that it has pleased God
 to visit my dearest wife with a very dangerous fever.  I had,
 I own, nearly dismissed all hope.   But to-day matters wear
 a more  favourable aspect, though  Dr. Fraser, who is with
 us, (having most  kindly hurried down on my first imperfect
 statement, which conveyed  to  his discernment the idea of
 no time being to be lost,) tells us not to be elated,  but still
 to be prepared for the worst.  What an unspeakable conso-
 lation and support is it in such a moment  to entertain full
 confidence that my dearest wife has made her peace with
 God, and is not unprepared for the awful summons !  I thank
 God, I am enabled to submit to His chastisement (too much,
 alas ! deserved) without murmuring, and I humbly hope with
 resignation, I would say  cheerfulness  and gratitude, to His
 holy  will.  He best knows what is good for us ; and if our
 sufferings  here serve  in  any  degree,  by rousing  us from
 sloth, and  urging us to  cleave to Him more closely, to in-
 crease the happiness of eternity, well may we exclaim in the
 triumphant  language  of the apostle,  'Our light  affliction,
  which  is but  for a moment, worketh for us a far more ex-
 ceeding and  eternal weight of glory.'
     " But I must stop. I am sure you will feel for us. The Dean 
224
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1800.
and the Stephens are come, and  the Henry Thorntons, who
were with us, are all kindness and assiduity.  What a bless-
ing  to have such friends !  Kindest remembrances.   Under
every circumstance, I am yours affectionately,
                                     W.  Wilberforce.
  " P. S. My dear wife has  been delirious ever since we
knew she was seized.   How little  could we have attended
to her spiritual  state if it had  been  before neglected, and we
had  wished to prepare  for death!  What a practical lesson
to us all!"

  " Wilberforce tells me,"  wrote  his friend Henry Thornton
to Hannah More, " that he has written to you a few lines on
this  distressing subject of Mrs. Wilberforce's illness.  Poor
fellow !  he cleaves now to his old friends, and he finds a re-
lief in employing a  little  time in writing to them,  which is
what we encourage, and especially as the sick-room is not
the place either for him or for her.  He seems more softened
and  melted than terrified or agonized, and shows the truly
Christian character under this very severe and  trying dis-
pensation."
  The issue of the fever was long doubtful, nor was it before
the 14th of October, that he was able to thank God  for any
decided improvement.  The tone of his own feelings through-
out this painful time, shows the height  to which  he  had at-
tained in the  school of Christ.   Truly he had learned to take
patiently the loving corrections of his heavenly  Father.
" Mr. Wilberforce,"  writes Mrs.  Henry Thornton, " has be-
haved greatly, if one may so say of a Christian ; he is now
very calm, and waiting the event  with much submission and
quietness."   " My  mind, I thank God, is  very  composed.
O Lord, take not Thy Holy Spirit from me: take away the
heart of stone, and give me a heart  of flesh ; that  under Thy
chastisements, I may lift up to Thee  a humble, reverential,
and even thankful eye,  and desire that Thy correction may
work its due  effect, and keep me  closer to Thee for strength,
and  light and warmth, and all things.   Much affected and
struck to-day in the address, Rev. iii. to the  Laodicean
lukewarm church, (too much my own condition,) with the
words  of kindness at the close—' As  many as I love, I re-
buke and chasten ;  be zealous, therefore, and  repent.'"
" I am much  struck," he writes to  a friend, with whom he
was soon after called to sympathize, " by this fresh visitation.
Alas ! we go on commonly in a  course of too uniform and 
1800.
RETURNS TO PARLIAMENT.
225
uninterrupted  comfort.  Read St. Paul's list of sufferings.
Yet let us praise God, and extract good from present evil, and
turn temporary suffering into everlasting happiness."
  Carefully did he scrutinize his own spirit when the hand
of God was taken from  him, lest he should lose any of  the
blessing of affliction.   " I have heard," he writes to Mr.
Hey, " of all your affectionate sympathy with me in my late
heavy trial. God has in his chastisement remembered mercy ;
and my beloved wife is spared to me, and is gradually recover-
ing her health and strength.  May I improve from the dis-
cipline through which I have gone;  but it is truly melan-
choly and humiliating to observe, how the strong feelings
of the mind in the moments of suffering decay, and grow
cold after  it  is over.   This hardness  of heart towards God,
in spite of the uniform and  unvarying dictates of  the judg-
ment, is a sad proof of corruption."
  His  stay at Bognor was not much  prolonged.   A scanty
harvest had increased the general discontent; and parliament
was summoned to meet for the despatch of business on the
11th of November;  "ministry," he says, "being, I fear,
influenced not merely by the scarcity, but by a warlike dis-
position.  My heart is sick at so much misery and  sin, and
when  I consider what  chastisement  we  deserve  at God's
hands  on the one  side, and contemplate the storms I  see
brewing on  the other, I  begin to tremble."
  He was soon afterwards in London, earnestly endeavour-
ing both in private and in  the House  of Commons to obtain
some effectual relief for the sufferings of the working classes.
" I have not," he  tells Lord Muncaster, " for one morning
omitted to take my place at the committee, and that cuts
such a solid lump  out of the day as to leave the rest com-
posed  but of fragments."
  " I have been using my utmost endeavours to impress the
minds of ministers,  and  of my brother members, with a
sense of the necessity of taking effectual steps for the relief
of the lower orders: and though  thinking their  measures
too weak, I  am by far the  most urgent in pressing forward
those very weaker measures, to the execution of which they
proceed languidly and lukewarmly.   It is really beyond ex-
pression vexatious to experience such indifference. Though
the House of Lords concurred with us on Friday, Nov. 28th,
in addressing the King to  issue the proclamation, it was not
issued until Thursday last;  and nothing is yet done in con-
sequence of it, though I have been daily pressing the extreme 
226
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1800.
urgency of our communicating the disposition to economize,
like an electric shock, by the promptitude and force of our pro-
ceedings."   " All this wears an aspect of exhibiting a show
to the country.  But we should either do less or do  better.
Alas, my friend, Providence has not done  with us I fear !
Not a word or a thought about God.   We seem in  general
to recognise Him as little in  His chastisements as  in His
mercies.   How little does  all seem,  compared with His
favour !  May you  and I, my dear friend, possess a  share
of it."
   The year closed upon  him in  these employments; and
early in the following spring  he  tells  Mrs.  Hannah  More
that  he  still has on  him  " the heavy burthen of obtaining
relief for our starving manufacturers  in the West Riding  of
Yorkshire.   The callousness, the narrow and foolish wis-
dom of servilely acquiescing in Adam Smith's  general
principles, without allowance for a thousand circumstances
which take the case out of the province of that very gene-
ral principle to which they profess allegiance, is producing
effects as mischievous as the most determined and  studied
cruelty.  This is rather too strong,  but  not  much.  How-
ever, 1 must leave this topic or I shall never have done.  I
send you half a bank note for £50.  I beg you, besides my
ordinary debt, to regard  me as your  debtor for any sum
you may call for,  on account of the peculiar  distress of the
present times.  I  thank God that  I am able,  without  incon-
venience,  to  make  an extraordinary exertion ; and as  to
keeping strictly within one's income at  such a season  as
this, it  is  as  unreasonable (not  to say any thing of its
wickedness) as it would be for a man to keep determinate-
ly to his ordinary rate of walking, when a  hungry lioness
was  at his heels ;  but we feel for our own safety more than
for other's sufferings.
  " Mrs. Wilberforce, thank God, regains strength gradu-
ally.  You hold out better  than I expected ; but the tene-
ment gives indications (mine also) that it will ere long fall
to pieces,  and enforces on  the spirit  within,  the  duty  of
providing  a surer and better habitation.  Farewell,  I am
too much indulging my disposition to chat with you.  Kind-
est remembrances.
                           Ever yours,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  The  opening of  the nineteenth century  was dark and 
1801.
NEW MINISTRY.
227
threatening. " What tempests," says the Journal of January,
1801, " rage around, and how are we urged to seek for that
peaceful  haven,  which alone can insure real security and
happiness!"  He writes

                   TO LORD MUNCASTER,

                                "Near London, Feb. 7, 1801.
" My dear Muncaster,
  I have strange tidings to communicate.  The King and  his
Cabinet have quarrelled concerning the emancipation (as it
is called) of the Irish Roman Catholics,—and Pitt, Dundas,
Lord Grenville, Windham, and probably Lord Spencer also,
and Lord Camden, are to go out of office.
  The King and Pitt  part on affectionate terms.  The King
saying, that it is a struggle between duty and affection, in
which duty carries it.  I am vexed that some of the Cabinet
whom I least affect are to continue."
  It was well understood that more pacific councils were to
be expected from the  new administration, and many of his
friends hoped  therefore that Mr. Wilberforce would  be  in-
cluded in its number.  He himself just felt  the influence of
the eddy which  was sweeping by him.  " I am too much for
a Christian, yet not greatly, intruded on by earthly things,
in consequence  of these late political changes, and  all  the
considerations which they call forth.  I was for a little  intoxi-
cated, and  had risings of ambition.  Blessed  be God for this
day of rest and  religious occupation, wherein earthly things
assume their true size and comparative insignificance ; am-
bition is stunted, and I  hope my affections in some degree
rise to things above."  His views upon the Slave Trade  dif-
fered too decidedly from  those of the new Cabinet to allow
him to take office with them, and he continued therefore with
unbroken cheerfulness his independent labours.  His great
present object was to relieve that distress, which the failure
of the harvest, and the continuance of the war, had produced
in the manufacturing districts. "Indifferent health alone pre-
vented" him " from going down into the West Riding to as-
certain facts" for himself; and his private aid was given so
liberally, that he speaks of having " spent this year  almost
£3000 more than his income ;"* and as " thinking in conse-

  *  The sum of 3173?. is accounted for as bestowed during this year in  cha-
rity. 
228
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1801.
quence of giving up his villa for a few seasons."   " I should
thus save £400 or £500 per annum, which I could give  to
the poor.  Yet to  give  up the means of receiving friends
there, where by attending family prayers, and in other ways,
an impression  may be made upon them, seems a great con-
cession.  And with Broomfield I can by management  give
away at least one-fourth of my income.  O Lord, guide me
right.  But there or wherever else I am, O Lord, do Thou
grant me Thy  Holy Spirit to  fill me with  every Christian
grace ; love, joy, peace, long-suffering."
  The summer was occupied with attendance on parliament,
where he pressed  earnestly and perseveringly on  the  go-
vernment the duty of making some effort for the relief of the
poor, who, especially in  the manufacturing districts  were
suffering from  the high price of corn.
  " Our dear and benevolent friend," writes Dr. Milner from
Palace Yard, " absolutely exhausts his strength on this sub-
ject.  He is the most feeling soul I ever knew ; and  also the
most patient and indefatigable in endeavouring to lessen the
miseries of the people :  and how he does get misrepresented
and abused ! But you may kick him as long and as much as
you  please;  if he could but fill the  bellies  of the poor,  he
would willingly submit to it all."
  Throughout this spring his Diary contains many interest-
ing notices  of passing events.  Heard in the House of the
King's being ill in the old way.  The King's agitation  at being
urged to grant power to the Romanists, was not unlikely to
expose him to such an attack.  " At the Levee, on Wednes-
day the  28th of January, the King said to Dundas, '  What is
this that this young Lord has brought over, which they are
going to throw at my head!' . .  . Lord C. came over with
the plan in  September  . . . 'I shall reckon any man  my
personal enemy who proposes any such measure. The most
Jacobinical thing I  ever  heard  of  ' You'll find,' said Dun-
das, ' among those who are friendly to  that measure, some
you never supposed your enemies.' "
  " Saturday,  March 7th.  To Speaker's  Levee—changed
to Saturday  night.   Shows the good of all such attempts—
carried only halfway at first.  Much talk there, and home
late.  The King gradually getting  better—very  calm and
resigned, on religious grounds."
  " Saw Lord Eldon, and long talk  with  him  on the best
mode of study and discipline—for the young Grants—to be
lawyers."  The  Chancellor's  reply was not encouraging—
"I know no rule to give them, but that they must make  up 
1801.
king's recovery.
229
their minds  to  live like  a hermit and work like a horse."
" Eldon had just received the great seal, and I expressed my
fears that they were bringing the King into public too  soon
after his late indisposition.  ' You shall judge  for yourself,'
he  answered, 'from what passed between us when I kissed
hands on my appointment.   The King had been conversing
with me, and when I was about to retire, he said, ' Give my
remembrances to Lady Eldon.'  I acknowledged his conde-
scension, and intimated that I was ignorant of Lady Eldon's
claim to such a  notice.   'Yes,  yes,' he answered,  'I  know
how  much  I owe to Lady Eldon ;  I  know that you would
have made yourself a country curate, and that  she has made
you my Lord Chancellor.' "
  " About ten days ago,"  he writes to Mr. Bankes in Sep-
tember, "I brought Mrs.  Wilberforce and my three children
to these my old bachelor quarters in Need wood forest; Gis-
borne my host.  This you may  remember is the forest  which
we devoted to the axe  and the ploughshare a few months
ago.   I confess  I have been not a  little provoked to see such
extents of miserable hopeless wastes suffered to continue in
their present state of unprofitable  nakedness,  whilst  these
beautiful retreats are sacrificed. However, if wheat be pulled
down one shilling a quarter, it  will be a reimbursement."
  He  was still at Mr. Gisborne's when he "heard" upon the
2d  of October, " from Pitt and Addington, that Lord Hawkes-
bury and Mr. Otto had  signed preliminaries of peace the
evening before."
  From Yoxall Lodge he went to Bath, from which place he
wrote—

" My dear Gisborne,
      *******    This is a sad
place for visiters;  and  as I cannot think it  right to say,
through my servant, ' not at home,'* and  am not allowed to
tell  people so myself, I may be interrupted before I have done
writing the letter I have promised you.   Before I enter on

  * He was brought to this conviction by  the bluntness of a faithful north-
country servant, to whom he had carefully, and as he believed successfully,
explained the true meaning of this conventional refusal.  A tedious visiter
had  been suffered to intrude upon his busiest  hours, and when he asked,
" Why did you show him in ? why did you not say that 1 was not at home?"
the answer he  received convinced  him that he could not lawfully employ
this  convenient phrase.  " So I did, sir," was the reply, " but he looked so
hard at me, as much as to say, I know that you are telling a lie, that 1 was
ashamed to stand to it, so I e'en let him in."
                            20 
230
life of wilberforce.
1801.
 my task let me only assure you, as the best  thanks I  can
 offer for your hospitality, that I do not know when we have
 spent our time so happily as  under your rocf.  I could en-
 large, but time must be economized. Let us in such a world
 as this maintain between  our families  a close alliance, that
 by -mutual aid and countenance we and they may the better,
 through  God's help, stem  the torrent in some degree, or at
 least (a rap  at the door) stand our own ground.  Kindest
 remembrances.   God bless you.
                  Ever affectionately yours,
                                    W.  Wilberforce."

   " My days," he complains, " at this place roll  rapidly away,
 and  in a most unprofitable and laborious  succession  of fri-
 volities.   Yet I know not how this could be avoided.  I am
 returning soon to the  bustle of London  and political life.
 May  God protect me by His grace, and enable me to stand
 the fiery trial.  I  shall  if I honestly wait on Him."   On the
 27th  he left Bath, " with a heart  heavy from the prospect of
 returning soon to parliament; from the fear  of the war's
 going on; from the  bustle, turmoil, and contention of  my
 parliamentary life."
  "Pitt and  Rose dined with me quietly to-day.  Pitt very
 pleasant, and we  stayed chatting politics.  What  wonderful
 magnanimity !  wishing to form for Addington  the strongest
 and  best  possible administration."  "Opposition,"  he tells
 Lord Muncaster, " arc laying  aside their unreasonable preju-
 dices against Addington.  I should  not wonder if several of
 them could  so  far conquer their repugnance  as  to  accept
 office under him.   You know I was always sanguine as  to
 this administration, knowing Pitt might be depended on.  He
 has really  behaved with a magnanimity unparalleled in a
 politician ;  new instances of it are daily occurring."   " I do
 not wonder if it be misunderstood," is  the remark in one of
 his memoranda; " this may be owing not  merely to preju-
 dice,  but to natural incapacity.  Little minds cannot receive
 the idea ;  it is  too grand for their comprehension.   But to
 any one who fairly considers  it in all its bearings, and who
 estimates its full worth,  it  will appear one of the noblest  in-
 stances of true magnanimity that was ever exhibited to the
 admiration and imitation of mankind."
  The estimate he here  forms of Mr. Pitt may be transferred
not unaptly to himself.  It is a  rare and most instructive sight
which his private  Journals of  this date exhibit.   There have 
1801.
HIS FREEDOM FROM AMBITION.
231
been many whom the love of ease has shielded from every
temptation of ambition ; and  not a few in whom wayward-
ness of temper has nourished a fierce and untractable  inde-
pendence ; but it has seldom happened that  one who was
possessed of every quality of mind and fortune which could
most encourage and  reward  ambition, has been seen to put
away soberly and quietly  its utmost offers.   This he  now
did.   Those who saw only the result, would never have sus-
pected that his easy course was the result of any struggle—
yet so  it  was: his  freedom from ambition was no natural
immunity, but  a victory of Christian principle.  "I  have of
late," he says, " perceived on looking inwards, the workings
of ambition, of love of this world, its honours,  riches, estima-
tion, and even of worldly desires for my family, of which be-
fore I do  not recollect that I was conscious.  The settled
judgment  of my mind I would humbly hope is right. I trust
that I am comparatively indifferent  in my cool estimate  of
things to the goods of this life:  but, alas !  I  become soiled
and worldly-minded." "That our feelings do not correspond
with our judgments,  is one of the strongest proofs of our de-
pravity and  of the  double man within  us.   I believe that
retired, domestic life  is by far the most happy for me, blessed
as 1 am with affluence, &c.  Yet when I see those who were
my equals  or  inferiors, rising  above  me into stations of
wealth, rank, &c. I find myself tempted  to desire their sta-
tions, which  yet  I know would  not increase  my  happiness,
or even be more truly honourable  I speak not of the desire
of an increased power of usefulness.  That is another and a
right feeling.   Mine, against which, however, in its risings I
struggle, and which  I strive to suppress, is a sadly depraved
appetite, rooted in an inordinate love of this world. Oh may
the compunction I now feel  be the blessed operation of the
Holy Spirit.
  " I suspect I have been allotting habitually too little time to
religious exercises, as private devotion, religious meditation,
Scripture reading, &c.  Hence I am lean, and cold, and hard.
God, perhaps, would prosper me more in spiritual things if I
were to be more diligent in using the means of grace.   And
though in the main I  have thought myself pursuing the
course chalked out  for  me by Providence, and with a dili-
gence prompted and enjoined by the injunctions of Scripture,
yet I suspect that I had better allot more time, say two hours
or an hour and a half,  to religious exercises daily, (besides
Sundays,) and try whether by so doing I cannot preserve a 
232
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1802.
frame of spirit more habitually devotional, a more lively sense
of unseen things, a warmer love of God, and a greater degree
of hunger and thirst after righteousness, a heart less prone
to be soiled with worldly cares, designs, passions and appre-
hensions, and a real, undissembled longing for heaven, its
pleasures, and its purity.
  " I know that all external means are nothing without the
quickening Spirit; but the Scripture enjoins constant prayer,
and  the writings and example  of all good men suggest and
enforce the necessity of a considerable proportion of medita-
tion  and other religious  exercises, for  maintaining the -spiri-
tual  life vigorous and flourishing.  Let me therefore make the
effort in humble reliance on Divine grace.  God, if he will,
can  turn the hearts of men, and give me favourable oppor-
tunities, and  enable me to  use them, and more than  com-
pensate  for  all the  hours  taken from  study,  business, or
civility, and devoted to Him.  O God, give me a single heart
and  a single eye, fixed on  Thy favours, and resolutely de-
termined to live to Thy glory,  careless whether I succeed or
not in worldly concerns, leaving all my human interests and
objects to Thee, beseeching Thee to enable me to set my affec-
tions on things above; and walking by faith, to wait on Christ,
and  live on  Him day by day here, till at length,  through
His  infinite and wholly unmerited mercy, I am taken  to dwell
with him hereafter in everlasting happiness and glory."
  He had confined himself in the preceding session to a decla-
ration of his  unaltered feelings on the subject of the Abolition
of the Slave Trade without bringing on his usual motion
The prospect of peace had suggested to him a "  grand Aboli-
tion plan," and he was  " trying  at  a general  convention."
This scheme would have been  impeded by a fresh defeat,
upon which he  could not but calculate in the existing House
of Commons.  He thought  it  better therefore for his cause
to let the session pass in silence, and exert his chief  strength
-in private with the  government.  To this attempt he was
now urged afresh.  He learned from Otto, the French minis-
ter,  " that  if our  government would propose  to negotiate
for the Abolition, theirs  would probably consent to it."
  Under these circumstances he was " busy writing Adding-
ton  a  long  letter  on negotiation  for  general Abolition,"
Begging him to allot to it  a quiet half hour as soon as he
was able.
  He enters in his Diary " If Mr. Pitt had been minister when
this  peace was  negotiated,  the question would have come 
 1802.           STATE OF THE WEST INDIES.             23 3

 into discussion;" but Lord Hawkesbury and Mr. Addington
 could not be  persuaded.   " At last I wrote  to  both of them
 very serious letters, telling them I so did to leave it with
 them solemnly."
   Yet, though unsuccessful, he was not disheartened.  With-
 in a fortnight  he was again in correspondence with Mr. Ad-
 dington.  Ever since our occupation of Trinidad and the
 Carib lands in the  Island of St.  Vincent,  speculation had
 been clamorous for their cultivation.  Twice already he had
 defeated these attempts ; and  greatly was he now alarmed
 at hearing that the  commission  for their sale  was  making
 out.
   " I am grieved at  Addington's  not at once recoiling from
 the idea of settling Trinidada with imported slaves, of which
 it  would take  a million.   Pitt has had a long  conversation
 with Addington, and says it was  satisfactory."
   He was not sufficiently satisfied with  the conduct  of the
 government to leave the matter absolutely to them.   " The
 Slave Trade," he tells Lord Muncaster, " will, in some shape
 or other, be one of the first questions brought before parlia-
 ment.  Perhaps Canning will bring  forward a motion for
 preventing the importation of slaves for clearing new lands.
 I am happy to tell you that I think Pitt remains firm.  Oh
 what an eternal blot would it be on the character  of parlia-
 ment, if, after  having resolved by an immense majority that
 the  Slave Trade should  be gradually abolished, we should
 enter on the cultivation  of a  new settlement, the  complete
 peopling of  which  with negro slaves, reckoning the number
 always lost in opening uncleared lands, would  take near a
 million of human beings !"
   His Diary proves  him  to have been much occupied with
various  schemes of  benevolence,  both in parliament and  in
private  life.  " The  Slave Trade,"  " Society for  bettering
Condition of  the Poor,"  "Proclamation Society,"  "Sierra
Leone," " Condition  of Children in Cotton Mills," " Sunday
Bill," " Oath Bill,"  are all frequently noticed as drawing his
attention both in the House and in his conversation with his
friends.
   The adverse temper of the existing House of Commons
on the subject of Abolition had been  shown too plainly to be
doubted.  Mr. Addington had coldly and  reluctantly en-
gaged to pause before he opened St. Vincent's and Trinidad
for the reception of  another million of Africans; whilst the
fierce conflicts of St. Domingo, and the insurrections of Do-
                            20* 
234
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1802.
minica and Tobago, had brought general reproach upon the
negro name.   To  all this was  added the miserable state of
Sierra Leone, which  having struggled through external dif-
ficulties was now threatened with destruction by the  re-
bellious spirit of the Nova Scotia negroes.  Yet  upon the
whole he resolved to bring his  motion forward,  and intro-
duced it upon the 3d of June, though  " not able to get it on
till too late, when the House was almost empty."  But a dis-
solution was too near  to  allow him to  bring his motion to
any practical conclusion, and upon the  14th he felt " com-
pelled to give it up for this year."
  Parliament was prorogued upon the 28th of June, and dis-
solved upon the 29th.   Upon the 30th, he was " off before
nine from Broomfield," on his  journey to  the north.   The
" Beverley, Hull, and York elections" werealready," raging;"
but " no opposition" was  " talked of for the county." Early
in the spring there had been some rumours of a contest, but
they  had " now  vanished." He  had,  of necessity,  been
more than ever absent from the  county since his last elec-
tion ;  and this had given rise to a report, that he intended to
retire from its representation. " I have been strongly urged,"
he told Mr. Hey,  " to advertise  my intention of offering^my
services in the ensuing general  election.  But I pause.   Nor
do I think  it probable, unless something happens in the in-
terval, that the peace of the county will be disturbed.  I fear
my pride would be wounded were I to  be  turned out; but
after the risings of  this bad passion should have been con-
quered, I own I  should rejoice in my liberty.  However, I
would leave my continuance in  public life to Providence, and
not retire till its signal be given for my release."
  " I can scarcely enough impress you with a sense of the de-
gree in which I shrink from the  very idea of a parliamentary
struggle. Whether it be the effect of my being so much older, or
from  some other cause, I quite abhor the prospect of a general
election ; and to be active in preserving my situation seems
like labouring to be permitted to tug at the oar like a galley
slave with fetters on my  legs and  the  lash at my back.   I
pant for quiet and retirement; and what is more, I entertain
serious doubt  whether I should not act wisely in retiring
from  my public station, whether I should not be able to pro-
mote the glory of God and the good of my fellow-creatures
more in private.  My pen might then be employed regularly
and assiduously.  But I am deterred from yielding to the im- 
1802.
PRIVATE REFLECTIONS.
235
pulse I feel thus to secede, by the fear of carving for  my-
self."
  He reached the West Riding upon the first  of July,  and
after a hasty canvass, was at York upon the " election  day.
July 12th.  Got up earlyish to think of speech. To tavern by
ten, and mounted at half-past ten. I pleased people in speak-
ing, and did well.  Crowded hall, and castle yard immensely
so."   " It was,  indeed," says a by-stander, " an august  and
interesting scene ; not one hand was lifted up against  him,
and the surrounding countenances were expressive of the
greatest delight and esteem towards him."
  Immediately  on his election  he returned to the labours  of
that  honourable post which he had occupied for eighteen
years.  " The event," writes his cousin, Lord  Carrington,
(in a letter, docketted, " kind condolence on my re-election,")
" which has given your other friends so much pleasure, has
filled  me with sentiments of an opposite nature.  No consti-
tution can stand, during the ordinary period of active life,
such  exertions as yours  have  been in  the service of the
county of York.   It  would have been better if, like Wind-
ham,  but  without  his struggle and defeat, you had taken
refuge in a close borough, the means of which I should have
been proud to have afforded you."
  A period of unusual leisure  seemed now before him,  and
he  entered  on it  with  a  degree  of deep  and  serious re-
flection, for which few find  opportunity in  the  middle  of a
busy life.  He  took a calm  and  thoughtful estimate of his
situation and his faculties, inquiring where they were most
capable of employment and  improvement.  The  result  of
these reflections in " the  reed house," (a favourite arbour
in his garden,) he " put  down on paper, that they might
not be the fugitive thoughts  of the moment, but  the de-
liberate conclusions  of his judgment  recorded for his  own
use;  or possibly, that  my dear  wife, for the benefit of my
children, may know the considerations by which I am guided
in the direction  of my  labours and  the employment  of
my time.
  " When I look into my  own mind, I find  it a perfect
chaos, wherein the little  knowledge which  I do possess is
but confusedly and darkly visible ; and  where, from the want
of classification and recapitulation, and from having satisfied
myself with a superficial acquaintance with  things,  and
having propositions brought into and left in my mind, with-
out settling the result, discriminating the  true from the false, 
236
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1802.
the certain from the uncertain—I am in truth, shamefully ig-
norant of many subjects which I seem to know, and should
be thoroughly acquainted with.   What has brought me into
this state is a treacherous memory, and my having from na-
ture a quick  perception and lively imagination, with an un-
derstanding (either naturally or from bad habits) defective in
the power of steadily contemplating many objects without
confusion.   This is really weakness of intellect, but it might
have been lessened by early and habitual efforts.  The mathe-
matics and algebra would  here have  been eminently useful
to me;   method too might have been highly beneficial in
keeping me from a habit of half attention.—Alas, these reme-
dies were neglected, and from 17 to 21, when I ought to have
been under that strict  and  wholesome regimen  which the
peculiar diseases of my intellectual powers seemed to require,
I  was strengthening these natural maladies: and this till a?t.
26.  And though  since that time I have been endeavouring
to employ my talents, in the largest sense, to the glory of
God, and the good  of man ;  yet, alas, how ineffectually! and
my peculiar situation, and the great variety of things  and
persons with which it renders me conversant, has  kept me
sadly back.
   " I am tempted to think that it is now too late to mend my
plan practically, with any effect;  yet as  it has pleased God
to call me again to parliament, and as the greater my natural
infirmities the more every aid is wanted, I am  resolved to
enter on a course of more systematic retention  of the little
I  know or can acquire, and I mean to note down roughly the
scheme  of study it will be best for me to pursue. I would not
overrate knowledge, or proficiency in any  human pursuits or
acquirements ; but inasmuch as God  works by human means,
it seems to be our duty to labour diligently in the pursuit of
those qualifications, which appear to be the instruments of
usefulness for our particular station and occupation in life.
Eloquence in its right sense is  of great effect in  every free
community; and as it has pleased God to endow me with a
certain natural turn  for public speaking, and by His provi-
dence to place me in a situation in which there is room for
the use of that talent,  it seems  to  be my duty to improve
that natural faculty, and cultivate that true eloquence which
alone is suitable to the character of a follower of the Saviour,
who was full of love, truth, and lowliness.  Besides, the very
basis of eloquence, in the sense in which I use it, is wisdom
and knowledge, a thorough acquaintance with one's subject, 
1802.
PRIVATE REFLECTIONS.
237
the sure possession  of it, and  power of promptly calling up
and using it.  But let me ever remember here what  cause
there is for continual watchfulness and godly jealousy, lest
the pursuit should lead to an inordinate love of w7orldly esti-
mation, to vanity, and pride;  and if to them, in its conse-
quence to the malignant passions."
  The recurrence of his birth-day (aet.  43) led him again  a
few days later to review his situation and employment.  He
had of late found more time  than  usual for general reading.
To this he was so much devoted, that he found it, he has of-
ten said, likely to encroach more than any press of business
upon the hours allotted to devotion. " I find books," he says,
" alienate  my heart from God as much as any thing. I have
been framing a plan of study for myself, but let  me remem-
ber that one thing is needful, that if my heart cannot be kept
in a spiritual state  without so much prayer,  meditation,
Scripture  reading, &c. as are  incompatible with study and
business, I must seek first the righteousness of God.  Yet, O
Lord, when I think how little I have done, I am ashamed and
confounded, and I would fain honour God more than I have
yet done."
  Again  he  says, " Is  it that  my devotions are too  much
hurried, that I do  not read Scripture enough, or how is it,
that I leave with reluctance the mere chit-chat of Boswell's
Johnson, for what ought to be the grateful offices of prayer
and praise! Yet if  any man have not the Spirit of Christ,
he is none of His.  I must then grow in grace.  I must love
God more.   I must feel the power of Divine things  more.
Whether I am more or less learned signifies not.  Whether
even I execute the work which I deem  useful is  compara-
tively unimportant.   But beware, O my soul, of lukewarm-
ness.—I feel it difficult  to adjust the due degree of time to
be allotted to prayer, Scripture reading, and other religious
exercises.  God loves  mercy better than sacrifice, and there
is a danger of a superstitious spirit, of being led to depend
on the forms of religion.   Yet the experience and  example
of good men  seems a fair guide.  At all  events,  however,
some  way or other, my affections  must  be set on  things
above.   God  is willing to supply our needs.   They who
wait on Him shall renew their strength.   I humbly trust in
His promises."
  " I  have lately  been led to think  of that part of my life
wherein I lived without God  in the world, wasting and even
abusing all the faculties He had given me  for His  glory. 
233
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1802.
Surely when I think of the way in which I went on for many
years, from about sixteen  to  1785-6, I can only fall down
with astonishment as well  as humiliation before  the throne
of grace, and adore with wonder, no less than remorse and
gratitude, that infinite mercy of God which did  not cast me
off, but on the contrary, guiding me by a way which I  knew
not, led me to  those from whom I was to receive the  know-
ledge of salvation, (not more manifestly His work was St.
Paul's instruction by Ananias.) and  above all, softened  my
hard heart, fixed  my inconstant temper,  and though  with
sad  occasional relapses, and  above  all, shameful unprofit-
ableness, has enabled me to continue until this day.  Praise
the Lord, O my soul  !"
   His Diary proceeds to notice visits.   " Venn called ; kept
him  to dinner.  Most  interesting conversation ;  telling  us
many most affecting incidents about his  father,  displaying
especially his  zeal and success in God's cause,  his powers
of conciliating people who  were  prejudiced  against him. Mr.
Kershaw and another going over from  Halifax to laugh,
Kershaw completely  conquered, and to  his dying day devo-
ted to Mr. Venn.  Mr. Venn's trust in  Providence, and one
singular  interference:  when all gloomy for want of means
to pay the butcher, a £50  note came; from whom he  never
found out.   At Tadcaster the minister really  proposed to
him to drink a glass  of brandy,  and  when  he refused, said
he would do the duty himself."
   " Public events.  Our government seems to have been re-
monstrating  against  Buonaparte's  scandalous  invasion of
Swiss  freedom, but the issue not yet clear.   I think Buona-
parte will  give  way in some  degree, without owning it.
Pitt still  kindly helping Addington.  Came to London and
visited,  him at Richmond  Park,  just  after  Holwood sold.
Pitt called, and spent a day and  a  quarter at Sir Charles
Middleton's,  going  there  to study farming.  Sir Charles
astonished  at  his wonderful sagacity, and power of combin-
ing and reasoning out.  Says he is the best gentleman farmer
he, Sir Charles, knows, and may be the best farmer in Eng-
land.  Bernard and  I busy together about education plan
for children of lower orders."
   Parliament  met on the 16th of November. " We re-elected
Abbot to-day  without opposition, after  a most characteristic
speech  from  Sir  William  Scott,  who  moved his being re-
placed  in the chair.  Nothing  could   be  more appropriate
than his language.  As I was coming out of the  House, 
1802.           INDEPENDENCE IN POLITICS.             239

Canning accosted me, telling me that he had a violent quar-
rel against me ; and  when I stared, Nay, says he, on public
grounds ; and then explained that it was on account of my
speech at York on my re-election, against  continental  con-
nexions. I  told him that  certainly it was  a question in
which  much  must depend  on circumstances and degrees,
but that generally I  was less  friendly to them than many
men; and that having been so ten  years ago I had not of
course become less diffident of my doctrines  from the treat-
ment we had received from our allies.  From Canning's
warmth you will guess a good deal, remembering that partly
from constitutional temperament, partly from opposition feel-
ings, he may  carry his principles further than some other of
our great political men.  But  I own I dread getting into a
war.   Above all, I am anxious that if we are to go to  war
at all, it may appear  plainly to have been  forced  upon us,
and not to have been resorted to as a measure of choice, as
the result of closet reflection, and political calculation.
  " O, my dear Babington,  how little is all this varied scene
of things regarded as the stage on which the Supreme Being
is exhibiting His attributes, and guiding all the movements,
however complicated, however minute or obscure, and caus-
ing them to effect the purposes He has fore-ordained ! How
thankful should we be, that He has pointed out to us the
means whereby, whatever may become of  our temporal in-
terests, our eternal  concerns  may  be  placed beyond the
reach of danger."
  At the very commencement  of the session, he declared his
views upon our foreign policy.  "Nov. 24th.  Address moved.
Opened debate.   Spoke strongly against engaging in conti-
nental alliances as principals."   And again, " Spoke, having
been  much urged by  Canning and Ryder,  on continental
alliances."  " Our national  integrity and good faith renders
us unfit to enter on them.  We cannot  keep or break en-
gagements as it suits the convenience of the  moment."  He
went on to urge upon the government a due employment of
the present time of peace.
   The part he took in these debates attracted much attention
both in and out of parliament.  " We hear a great deal of a
famous speech of yours and Sheridan's," writes Mrs. Hannah
More, " so much  that we regret that our economy had cut
off the expense of a  London  paper."   " You  talk of my
speech," he  answers ; " whatever  it  was, the newspapers
would  have  given you no idea of it.   Never was any one 
240               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1H02.

made to talk such arrant nonsense, and on a subject  too on
which I wished not to have been misstated."
  The year concludes with some striking secret meditations.
" How many and great corruptions does the House of Com-
mons discover to me in myself!  What love of worldly estima-
tion, vanity, earthly-mindedness !  How different  should be
the frame of a real Christian, who, poor in spirit, and  feeling
himself a stranger and a pilgrim on earth, is looking  for the
coming of his Lord and Saviour; who longs to be delivered
from the present  evil world, and to see  God as  He is !   I
know that this world is passing away, and  that the  favour
of God, and  a share in  the blessings of the Redeemer's
purchase, are  alone worthy of the pursuit of a rational  being:
but alas ! alas ! I scarcely dare say I love God and  His ways.
If I have made any progress,  it is in the clearer discovery of
my own exceeding sinfulness  and  weakness.  Yet I am
convinced it is my own fault.  Let me  not acquiesce then in
my sinful state, as if it were not to be escaped from. Thanks
be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus
Christ.  Yes,  we  may, I may, become holy.  Press forward
then, O my soul.  Strive more vigorously.   God and Christ
will not refuse their help.  And may the emotions I have
been now experiencing, be the gracious motions of the divine
Spirit,  quickening my dead heart, and bringing me from the
power of Satan unto God."
  The new year began  with his  receiving the Holy Com-
munion, and forming vows of more devoted service.   " I will
press forward and  labour to  know God better, and love
Him more—assuredly I may, because God will give his Holy
Spirit  to them that  ask  Him, and the Holy Ghost will shed
abroad the love of God in  the heart.  Oh then pray—pray—
be earnest—press forward and follow on to know the Lord.
Without watchfulness, humiliation, and prayer, the sense  of
Divine things must languish, as much as  the grass  withers
for want of refreshing rains  and dews.  The word of God
and  the lives of good  men give us  reason  to believe, that
without these there can  be  no lively exercise of Christian
graces. Trifle not  then, O my soul, with thy immortal in-
terests.  Heaven  is  not to be won without labour. Oh then
press forward ; whatever  else is neglected, let this one thing
needful be attended  to: then will God bless thee.  I will try
to retire at nine or half-past,  and every evening give  half an
hour, or an hour,  to secret exercises, endeavouring to raise
my mind more, and that it may be more  warmed with hea-
venly fire. Help me,  O Lord—without Thee I can do nothing. 
1803.
VISITS NEWGATE.
241
Let me strive  to  maintain  a uniform frame of gratitude,
veneration, love, and humility, not unelevated with holy confi-
dence, and trembling hope in the mercies of that God, whose
ways,  are not as  our ways, nor His  thoughts as  our
thoughts.   I should almost  despair of myself, but for  His
promises.   Strive,  O my soul, to maintain and  keep alive
impressions,  first,  of  the  constant presence of a  holy,
omniscient,  omnipotent,  but  infinitely merciful  and  gra-
cious  God, of Christ our  Almighty Shepherd, of the Holy
Spirit,  of the evil one, and  the  invisible  world  in general.
Secondly,  of the real nature and malignity of sin, as a holy
curb on my inclinations, which will check me and keep me
from evil.  Thirdly, of my own vileness and unprofitableness.
And to these let me add a fourth, a sense of the  multiplied
blessings  of my situation.   Surely never cup  was so full.
Oh that'I were more thankful  ! My ingratitude should humble
me  in the  dust."  He was spending this vacation at Broom-
field, though often called to London by the claims of charity
and business.
  The following characteristic entry in his Diary occurs at
this time:—" Lord Teignmouth  dined—much talk with  him
about  Lord Cornwallis's statue inscription.  Wrote a long
letter to poor Finley.  20th.  Vaccine meeting.   Afterwards
an interview with poor  Finley in  Newgate—very affecting-
shocked at Newgate and its inhabitants."
  This impression was, no doubt, increased by  his having
been too constantly employed  of late  to  continue  his early
custom of visiting our prisons.  This case had been brought
casually before him.  It was one of great affliction.  Finley
was an officer in the army, the son of a  clergyman whose
venerable  widow still survived.   " He had been patronized,"
Mr. Wilberforce writes to Mr. Babington, " by the Marquis
of Buckingham, Windham, and others ; and being dissipated
and profuse beyond his means, is  now under sentence of
death for forgery, and sure to suffer. I heard of him through
his  wife, a poor Scotch girl, young and handsome, whom he
had brought out of the  north, and who has not a friend or an
acquaintance in London, while, poor soul, she has a sucking
child at the breast.  I  heard some things of the man  which
made me entertain an  indifferent opinion  of him, and  was
averse to  sending any clergyman to him; but my dear wife
prevailed on me to do it, and  I put Doddridge's Rise and Pro- 
242
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1803.
gress into his hands, and Crowther* undertook to visit him.
To be short, we trust it has pleased God to bless the means
which we have used, and that the poor man is a true convert.
Providentially he has had far more time than usual for  pre-
paration, and, as he remarked himself when I was with him
the other day, he has enjoyed much more space and leisure
for religious consideration than if he had been lying on a sick-
bed.   His venerable mother, a most  pleasing old  woman
above fourscore, told me with tears, that she was indebted
to me beyond what language could express for having been
the instrument of her son's happy change."
   Finley was  executed upon the 8th of February.—" My
note  written to Crowther with a message to  him, consoled
and cheered him.   Crowther came to dine.   Delighted  with
his account of Finley's latter days—his deep humility and his
soundness." What he witnessed in this instance strengthen-
ed his disapprobation of the usual haste with which execu-
tion is made to  follow sentence.  He had once intended to
bring the matter before parliament, and gave it up only from
the fear of inflicting a  useless injury upon  religion, by  pro-
voking an unsuitable discussion.  " To bring forward," was
his answer when it was pressed  upon him, " such a motion
would lead to much profane ribaldry, and  no good result.
You could only argue it on grounds to which the great mass
of members are altogether strangers."  No man with a bolder
maintenance of truth united a nicer sense of the reverence
due to holy things; and he would not needlessly expose the
sanctuary to the hard gaze of coarse and careless spirits. He
had  studied carefully his audience, and would reprove the
low tone of doctrine which he sometimes heard from the pul-
pit by remarking, " I could say as much as that in the House
of Commons."
   On the third  of February parliament re-assembled, and he
returned to active  duty.  " House of Commons—dined  Ste-
phen's.   Busy about our helping Buonaparte with ships for
St. Domingo" to re-establish slavery.
   " Would that, as you desire," he writes to Mr. Stephen, " I
could give myself  wholly to this  business.  But it is impos-
sible.   I have had a deputation of clothiers  with  me for two
hours almost, while your messenger has been waiting. If you
can  help me with  good proof that  the act we deprecate is
contrary to the law of nations, I shall be most  thankful for
it.  But the  House adopts so implicitly the maxim, Cuilibet

     * Rev. Samuel Crowther, Vicar of Christ's Church, Newgate. 
1803.
MILITARY PREPARATION.
243
in arte sua, &c. that all my assertions would weigh not  a
feather against Sir William Grant's ipse dixit, or Sir William
Scott's pausing.   If one could get an answer from a civilian
of note, declaring the transaction illegal,  the showing  it to
the merchants might deter them."
  He was just about  to  bring  on the Abolition question,
when he was seized, he tells Mr. Babington, who was then
resident  in Madeira, " with a certain illness which  is  going
through all London, called from its generality the influenza.
I conceive it is this complaint under which I have laboured,
for I am only now recovering, I thank God, after  a more se-
rious illness than I have had  for many  years.  But this, as
well as every other dispensation, has  furnished abundant
matter for thankfulness.  I suffered no pain worth  speaking
of; I had every  possible  comfort;  my mind was in a very
tranquil, comfortable state, and the Dean  of Carlisle happen-
ed, as we speak, to be upon the point of coming up, and was
an unspeakable comfort to my wife."
  Whilst he was  still confined  at  home, " a message from
the King announced the necessity of immediate military pre-
parations."   Silent leges inter arma: and for the remainder
of the year threatenings of invasion and provision for defence
engrossed the minds of all.
  " Your heart  would ache," he  writes upon  the 22d of
March to Mr. Babington, " could I unload to you my budget
 and make you a  partaker of my political grievances.   The
 premier is a man of sense, of a generous  mind, of  pure and
 upright  intentions, and of more  religion than almost any
 other politician.  But alas !  he has sadly disappointed me;
 I trusted he would correct abuses, but in vain have I endea-
 voured to spirit him up even when convinced of their reality.
 Just now, when I expected I should hear of the members of a
 particular Board, that  they were about to be hanged,  or (as
 I am writing to a sober matter-of-fact man) more literally,
 that  they were turned out with disgrace, I have heard that
 they are going to have £200 per annum  each added to their
 salaries. In almost every  department, but most in the  differ-
 ent branches of the naval, there has been sad mismanage-
 ment.   Then my poor slaves !  This King's message,  which
 came down before I had returned to the House  after my ill-
 ness, (by which I was attacked almost immediately after my
 arrival in London,)  has made it improper to bring forward
 my intended motion.  And all this time the wicked abomina-
 tions of the Slave Trade are going on in a greater degree
 than ever." 
244
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1803.
  " Two days ago I wrote a serious letter to  Addington on
naval and other mismanagement, which kindly received and
answered.  Peace and war still undecided."
  All eyes were turned anxiously to this great question, as
the hope of preserving peace became evidently weaker every
day.  It was  at  this  very time amidst  the din  of warlike
preparation, that the foundation-stone was laid of an institu-
tion which was to leaven all  nations with the principles of
peace.  The  great difficulty of obtaining Bibles for  home,
and still more foreign, circulation, had for some years been
a matter of unavailing complaint.  A new scheme to effect
this purpose  was now in agitation.  The designers  of the
new society proposed to combine for this common object the
scattered  energies of all professing Christians ; and so  to
create a mighty instrument  for the circulation of the truth.
Mr. Wilberforce had secretly done much in this  very work ;
and the catholic  aspect worn  by this new society delighted
his large and  liberal mind.  He was  accordingly one of its
first framers.   " Hughes, Reyner, and  Grant  breakfasted
with me," says  his Diary,  " on Bible Society  formation."
And a few days later, " city—Bible society proposal."  Here,
as he would  often mention, " a few of us met  together  at
Mr. Hardcastle's counting-house, at a later hour than suited
city habits, out of a regard to my convenience, and yet on so
dark a morning that we discussed  by candle-light, while we
resolved upon the establishment of the Bible Society."
  Little did it promise, when  thus  planted as "the smallest
of seeds," to grow to such a goodly stature amongst the
trees of the forest.  Mr.  Wilberforce saw no danger to the
Church from the co-operation of Dissenters, who at that time
professed  an  affectionate regard for  the  national establish-
ment.   Bishops Porteus and Barrington, who  had supported
his efforts for  enforcing the King's  proclamation, readily
joined with him here; and by no other machinery could the
result have been obtained.  So great was the torpor of the
Church, that all more strictly regular exertions had absolutely
failed, and  they  who  devised  this powerful  instrument  of
good, are hardly to be blamed, though they have with a holy
daring  called up a  spirit  too mighty  for  their  absolute
control.
  Every eye  was now fixed upon  the dangers of the coun-
try.   An army of 500,000 veterans,  flushed with victory
and imbittered by former disappointments, lay just across
the Channel,  ready to invade  its shores.   He was  giving a
" dinner to King, the American minister, on his taking leave, 
 1803.                WAR EXPECTED.                 245

 when Henry Thornton  came over with the  sad  tidings  of
 Addington's having declared in his place, that  Andreossi had
 asked for a passport, that Lord Whitworth returning,  in
 short, that war.  The news had  the effect on the sudden  of
 making me feel a sort of intoxicating flush, though my judg-
 ment  so  deeply deplores it.  7th. Morning, on opening the
 Bible, after praying  to God for guidance and protection, I
 accidentally just glanced my eye on Jeremiah xxxix. 16—18.
 Oh that I may have God for a  refuge, and then  it matters
 not what befalls me.  I would not lay much  stress on  such
 incidents, because we are not warranted so to do by the
 word of God, but it  seemed fit to be noticed and recorded."
   His Journal during this  year  is more than usually full  of
 the secret  workings of his mind.   " What  a mystery  of
 iniquity," he says, " is the human heart!  How forcibly do
 thoughts of worldly  pursuits intrude into the mind  during
 the devotional exercises, and how obstinately  do they main-
 tain their place, and when excluded, how incessantly do they
 renew their attacks !—which yet the moment our devotional
 exercises are over,  fly away of themselves.  To-day the
 Slave Trade thus harassed me."   And on a following Sun-
 day—" I have been at prayer, and I hope with some fervency
 of desire for the blessings for which I prayed ;  but alas, my
 worldly mind !  Surely it is the temptation of the evil spirit.
 Having called for the first time at Grant's on the way from
 church, and having talked quite at random of my probably
 taking a house near  him with a back door to  Museum Gar-
 dens,  my mind keeps running on it;  it absolutely haunts
 me, and will recur do all I can.   Oh  may Christ  by His
 Spirit give me that self-possession and sobriety of mind, that
 low estimate of temporal  things,  that strong  impression of
 their uncertainty and  transitoriness, that I may not be thus
at the mercy, the mere sport of my imagination.  In these
 times  especially (yesterday the news of Lord Whitworth's
 leaving Paris, and consequent  expectation of war) I should
 be weaned from this  world, and be as  one who is  here  a
 stranger and a pilgrim."
  The next day he " read the papers concerning the rupture
 with France on his way to Broomfield;" and found himself
 reluctantly compelled on  the following  Monday to oppose
 the government.  " Lord Teignmouth came after breakfast
 to talk politics.  He  and I had taken exactly the same view
of the state of affairs; thinking  our government had  im-
properly asked to retain Malta, and that they ought to have
                        21* 
246
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1803.
offered to acquiesce in any arrangement for making it inde--
pendent.  Read the  papers, and talked and considered.
House till  half-past twelve.  Spoke late, and  House very
impatient, being against their opinions."   " Malta," he said,
" is indeed a valuable possession,  but  the most valuable of
all the possessions of this country is its  good faith.  It  is a
possession which, above all others, we should watch with
jealous circumspection, and  guard from  the  very suspicion
of infringement.   This then is  my grand objection to  the
conduct  of ministers, that  by claiming the possession of
Malta, instead of its independence, they took ground  which
was  barely tenable  ; they gave  our  inveterate enemy an
opportunity of mistating our real views both to France  and
to Europe."  The debate was renewed the following day.
" House till four in the morning.  Divided in minority of 67
against 398.  Henry  Thornton, Bankes,  and I agreed.   Fox
spoke three hours with wonderful  ability, as Pitt last  night,
in quite different style, for  an hour or more, appealing to
national pride, honour, &c."
   To this appeal he had himself replied in the conclusion of
his speech.   " I have not descanted on the evils of war,  and
endeavoured to affect your  passions by turning your  minds
to the contemplation  of its  various horrors ; not but  that I
think a very unjust outcry is raised against all those who
touch on those topics, whilst appeals  to pride, to glory, to
the reputation of our brave forefathers, are  heard  with de-
light  and clamorously applauded.  It might tend, sir,  to  the
discovery of the path  of truth and wisdom, if appeals to the
passions were  in all cases to be excluded  from our discus-
sions, and if we were to confine ourselves to a dry, cold,
strict, logical investigation  and  analysis.  But if we allow
of appeals to those passions, the influence of which on  per-
sons  in our rank of life must be particularly strong, surely we
should not so squeamishly reject every appeal  to those  feel-
ings of our nature, which teach us to sympathize  with the
widow and the orphan, and  to deplore the various sufferings
of which war is,  above all other calamities, the  sure  and
prolific source."  He felt  deeply upon  this  subject,  and
published his speech.
   The palmy days of Addington's ministry were past, and
the difficulties of the  war soon displayed its inherent  feeble-
ness.  " July 4th. People already begin to sicken  of the
war.   I see secret discontents and fears, but no one speaks 
1803.
YORK MEETING.
247
openly.   The citizens outrageous against Addington's inca-
pacity, as they call it."
  The excitement of these stirring times caused no relaxation
of that careful scrutiny with which he tried his temper and
his conduct. " I have not  been  considerate,"  he says, " or
kind enough towards Addington.  Poor fellow, what annoy-
ances has he ! He has no peace as I have, alas !" And  again,
" July 17th. I fear I did  not act  honestly in persuading my-
self that 1 might neglect  the House of Commons yesterday
for Lord St. Helen's, whom I had asked to dinner.   It is
dangerous to act contrary to conscience, in little things as
well as great.   It is.tempting God to withdraw His Holy
Spirit.  That way of persuading ourselves, which  we are
apt to  practise, when inclined  to a  thing which the first
simple suggestion of conscience opposes, is to  be carefully
watched against.  Yet  we  seem not to  be deceived either,
but to see as it  were out of the  corner of our eye the right
all the while."
   It was no light excuse which  ever led him to absent him.
self from parliament.   Three days  after this last entry, he
says, " To town, meaning Levee, but so poorly that  I gave
it up.  House.  Defence Bill till  late.  Alas, Sunday drilling
introduced  contrary to Yorke's  declaration, from his  being
put out  of sorts about  another  clause.   I spoke.  Pitt an-
swered me." He never ceased to oppose this injurious prac-
tice until he succeeded in preventing it.  "I strongly opposed
this war," he wrote many years afterwards, " differing from
those with whom I commonly  agreed,  at a  great cost of
private feeling ; but when once it had begun, I did not persist
in declaiming against  its impolicy and mischiefs, because I
knew that by so doing I should only injure my country."
   No one saw  with  more regret the strange  inertness of
the government.  His  long and  tried friendship for Mr. Ad-
dington  made it the more  painful to  him, and he did all he
could by personal remonstrance to stir  him  up to greater
energy of conduct.  He exerted himself to  kindle a proper
ardour in the country ;  and for this purpose he determined
upon travelling into Yorkshire, to  be present at  a  public
meeting for voting an address. Upon the 26th of July he
set  out from London, and leaving his family at Wood Hall,
in Hertfordshire, he pushed on  to York, which he reached
upon the 28th. " Found the meeting begun.   I had better
 have been there the night before—many gentlemen—castle
yard.  I spoke,  and pretty well, but I  did not feel  myself
 warmed." 
248
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1803.
   To the expenses of the volunteer force he subscribed £500;
 and finding that he "could do no more good by remaining"
 in  the north, he set out upon the following day, and on the
 30th rejoined his  family in Hertfordshire.  Here he stayed
 some time; going to London on important questions, and re-
 joicing at every interval of leisure to shake off its dust and
 turmoil, and wander  at will in the beautiful retirement  of
 Wood Hall.  Here he describes himself as " reading Hume,
 considering topics, running over many books.  Much time
 consumed about letters—a great accumulation of these, and
 necessity  of writing to stir up and do good in various ways;
 and," not the least characteristic,  " visiting daily the sick-
 room of one of Mr. Smith's footmen, to read and pray with
 him."  Aug.  5th.  " A charming  day.  Walked about  an
 hour with Cowper's Poems—delightful—park—deer—water
 —wood.  Delightful walk in the evening—a most romantic
 scene for a gentleman's  park.  They  have family prayers
 night and morning.   What a lesson to try to do good  by
 speaking  to others !  I remember when at Wilford, many
 years ago, I mentioned to  my cousin about family prayers,
 and he adopted the custom the very next night."
   Leaving Wood Hall late in August, and spending a week
 with his family upon the road at the house of his friend Mat-
 thew Montagu at Sandleford Priory, he  arrived on the 3d of
 September at the village of Bath Easton, where he designed
 to take up his  quarters for the remainder of the vacation.
 " Delighted with the beauty of our new villa.  Weather de-
 licious. Afternoon and evening read and heard, out of doors,
 in a lovely arbour by the river.  This is a beautiful country;
 our house exactly like Westmoreland, saving lakes."   " I am
 now come," he says on the  first Sunday after his arrival,
 " to a place where there is a prospect of my living in more
 quiet than I have long enjoyed.  Oh may I improve it for the
 best purposes.  May I remember that such a precious  op-
 portunity  as this place affords me of keeping my heart, and
 making a  progress in divine things, may never occur again;
 that I shall have to render  account of it as of a talent com-
 mitted to my stewardship."  He was " occupied  chiefly on
letters till  arrears  of correspondence were  paid off.  Last
night had twenty letters ready.  Reading a little Hume in
dressing, also Greek Testament.  Evening, on the water."
  The public dangers which  at this time beset  the  nation
induced him to make his residence at Bath Easton a  season
of more than usual devotion : and the record of his employ- 
1803.
DEVOTIONAL DAY.
249
 ments on the first Friday after  his arrival there, shows how
 he usually spent the days which he devoted to religious ser-
 vices. " Friday, Sept. 9th, half-past eleven. Destined this day
 for fast-day, meo more, with that degree of abstinence which
 may best qualify my weak body to go through the day without
 molesting the soul.  My chief objects in this act of humilia-
 tion are, to deplore the sins of  our country, and still more
 my own grievous  share of them;  my manifold provocations
 of the righteous displeasure of my God and Saviour.  To
 deprecate the wrath  of God from our land, and draw down
 His blessings on  us.  I would also beg a blessing on our
 residence at this place, that my time here may tend to my
 religious advancement, that  it  may be productive also of
 benefit to my children and family, and to others with whom
 the providence of  God connects me."
   " Half-past twelve—Let me go now to confession and hu-
 miliation, in direct prayer,  for  my time wears away.   Let
 me deplore my past sins—many years in which I lived with-
 out God in the world—then my  sins since my having in some
 degree become acquainted  with him in  1785-6.   My actual
 state—my not  having duly improved my talents—my chief
 besetting sins." [Here a reference to a private paper carried
 about him.]  " (My birth-day was worse kept this year than
 I have long known it, from its being my last day at a friend's
 house.  This therefore to be a  sort of birth-day  review.  I
 am come here into the arbour by the river side, and  am quite
 secure from interruption.)  How greatly are my sins aggra-
 vated by the extreme goodness to me  of my God and Sa-
 viour! lam  encumbered with blessings, my cup is  so full of
 them as to overflow.  During life all has gone well  with me,
 so far as God has  ordered matters, and all the evil has been
 the result  of my own  follies.   All that I enjoy has been from
God—all I suffer from myself.  My temporal blessings are
 superior to those of almost any human being who ever ex-
 isted.  But then my spiritual! Born in the happiest  country,
 at a season of  the greatest enjoyment,  for hitherto I have
 suffered nothing from the storms  which have raged around
 me.  In a condition of life perhaps the happiest of all, except
that possibly a  little lower might be both safer and  happier,
(because I can live less to  myself, less in the privacy and
quiet I am now enjoying,) but mine is surely one of  the very
happiest.  Then as to what  is personal—good natural ta-
lents,  though not  duly improved, and  injured by early ne-
glect; a cheerful and  naturally sweet temper (a great bless- 
250
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1803.
ing);  the  want of that  proud self-confidence,  (though this
has grown in me to the fault of too great diffidence,) which
is unfavourable  to the reception of religion; a most enjoya-
ble constitution, though not a strong one; an ample fortune,
aud a generous disposition  in money matters.   (I speak of
this as mere natural temper, not as having in it the smallest
merit, for I hope, at this moment, I can feel that it is no more
than any other natural instinct, except as referred to the will
and power of God.) To these blessings have been added most
affectionate friends, and near  relatives."   [Here a reference
to  his  domestic  relations.]   " My being honoured with the
Abolition cause is a great blessing.
  " But far more my spiritual blessings. How few are there
in parliament on whom the mercy of God  has been so boun-
teously  vouchsafed ! On  none of the early acquaintances
with whom I entered life.  Praise the Lord, O my soul, and
forget not all His benefits.   Above  all, let me adore God's
unspeakable kindness and long-suffering, in not being pre-
vented from calling me to His fold, by  the foreknowledge
which  He had  of my hardness of  heart and ingratitude.
Then the preventing grace of God. What else has prevented
me  from  bringing a scandal on my  profession and Thy
cause !"   [Here a reference to some occasions in which  he
supposed himself in especial danger.]   " Let the impression
of these incidents ever  remain with me, to humble me, to
keep me mindful how weak I am in myself,  how constantly
I need the grace of God, how carefully  I should  avoid all
temptation but such as occurs in the path of duty.
  " After having lamented my sins  before God, that I may
feel them the more, and the contrition  which they should
produce, let me meditate  awhile on the guilt of sin, on  the
majesty and holiness of God, on the base ingratitude and sot-
tish stupidity of man.  I will read (meditating way) Wither-
spoon's excellent sermon,' A View of the Glory of God, hum-
bling to the Soul.' O Lord, let Thy Spirit accompany me, let
it make me see  and  feel towards sin as Thou dost, and long
to be delivered from every remainder of my corruptions, and
to be holy as Thou art holy.  (I am  reminded, by thinking I
hear somebody  coming, to pray ejaculatorily to God, to keep
me from peevishness if I am interrupted.  I have taken the
best precautions against it, let me desire this day particularly
to be full of love, meekness, and self-denial.)
  " It is near half-past two ; I have been hitherto quite free
from interruption, and even the fear of it.  Let me now go to 
1803.
PRIVATE RELIGIOUS MEM.
251
prayer, after a short meditation  on the promises of God.  I
have been large, though how imperfect in confession.  It re-
mains for me to supplicate for the pardon  of my sins, and
for  growth in  grace—for a  blessing on this place and its
employments—for a blessing on  my intercourse with others.
(Constant previous  ejaculatory  prayer.)   Intercession  for
country and mankind—slaves—enemies—then  for servants
—friends—enumeration of  different classes, and wife and
children.  Then thanksgiving enumeration.  O Lord, give
me  Thy Spirit to help me to pray, and praise Thee accept-
ably, to worship in spirit and in truth.   Amen."
  The following extracts are from  his entry on the public
fast day in the succeeding month, the appointment of which
he had himself been instrumental in procuring.
  "It  becomes me on this day to humble myself before
the Lord; first, for  national sins, those especially wherein I
have any  share.  And alas, I may too justly be said  to  be
chargeable with a measure of that guilt, which I have not
sufficiently tried to  prevent.  Have  I then used my utmost
endeavours to amend the public, or my own particular circle,
or even my own family!  Who knows but  that if I had been
sufficiently on the watch, and had duly improved all the op-
portunities of doing good,  and  preventing evil, which have
been afforded me, many who are now strangers and enemies
to God might have become known and reconciled to  Him!
Many  grievous sins, which  greatly swell the sum of our na-
tional  account, might never  have existed.   What openings
for usefulness have  I enjoyed as an M. P. both  in and  out of
the House of Commons ; as an author, actual and possible;
as  a friend,  an  acquaintance, a master, &c.  Alas, which way
soever I  look,  I see abundant  cause for  deep humiliation.
How much  guilt might I have  kept out of existence,  and
consequently how much misery:—East Indian  idolatries;
internal  profaneness;  even Slave Trade.   And especially,
have I sufficiently supplicated God, and done my utmost in
this most effectual way, by calling in His aid!
   " Secondly, for my own manifold transgressions.   These
 I have down on  another paper; they are  present with me,
 and I  humbly hope  I lament them before  God.—We know
 not what scenes we may be called on to witness.  My own
 death may be at hand.  O then, while it is day, work out, Q
 my soul, thy own salvation.  Pray to God—
   " For thyself—that thou mayst  be accepted  in the  Be-
 loved ; that thou mayst be supported under whatever trials 
252
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1803.
 it may please God to expose thee to; and if it be His  holy
 will, but not otherwise, that thou mayst be  continued  with
 thy wife and children in the enjoyment  of  domestic peace
 and happiness.
   " For thy country—that God  would have mercy on us,
 and  deliver us from  the  power of our enemies;  that He
 would also bless  to  us  our difficulties  and dangers,  and
 cause them to be the means of our turning to Him with re-
 pentance and holy obedience; that He would restore to us
 the blessing of peace, and sanctify to us our enjoyments.
   " For our rulers—the King and his ministers, and all the
 public functionaries.
   " For my friends, acquaintances, and connexions, particu-
 larly for those whom I habitually remember in my prayers."
 —[Here a list.]  " Another class."—[Here a list of his early
 connexions, including many political friends."]  " These are
 relics  of old times.  I would especially implore the Divine
 mercy for Pitt, who is  peculiarly exposed.
   "Let me pray fervently  and  sincerely  for our enemies,
 that God would  have pity on them, that He would turn their
 hearts, &c.
   " Let me pray for all my fellow-creatures, for all that  are
 in pagan ignorance, particularly for the poor negroes, both
 in Africa and the West Indies.   O Lord, do Thou at length
 visit them with spiritual blessings and a termination of their
 temporal sufferings.  Amen.
   "And to all my supplications  and intercessions,  let  me
 add  abundant and warm thanksgivings;  for, O Lord, Thou
 hast been to us, and above all to me, abundant  in loving-
 kindness.  For our unequalled national blessings, both tem-
 poral and spiritual.  Run them over in detail, whether as
 exemption from  evils, or possession of goods, &c.
   " For my own blessings.  So peculiarly  full a cup amidst
 so liberal a banquet.  All  around me are feasting, but mine
 is  Benjamin's  mess.  Consider,  O my soul, thy country;
 the period of the world wherein  thy lot is  cast; thy station
 in life; thy personal circumstances as to  body and mind;
 thy externals—rank, fortune, favour with men, and especial-
 ly numerous, kind, and useful friends; the  events of thy life;
 thy having been kept  out  of office,  and  too intimate con-
 nexion with political companions ;  thy being kept from utter
falling, &c."  [Here an enumeration of particulars like that
 before given.] 
1803.
PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE.
253
  Such was his preparation  against those perils to which
none but the careless were indifferent.
  But  while his attention was thus directed to the common
alarm,  he was preserved from one of those imminent and
unexpected  dangers which continually surround  our path.
He was a constant observer of the advice of Bishop Berkeley,
" that modern scholars would, like the ancients, meditate and
converse in walks and gardens and open air."   His favourite
haunt at this time was a retired meadow, which bordered on
the Avon.  A steep  bank shaded by  some fine trees, one of
which  by its projection formed a promontory in a deep part
of the  stream, was his common seat.  On the 25th of Octo-
ber, he says, " Walked with pencil and book, and wrote.  A
charming day.   I  was sitting by the  river-side, with my
back to the water, on a portable seat, when  suddenly it struck
me that it was not quite  safe.  Writing, I might  be absent,
and suddenly slip off, &c.  I moved  therefore a  few yards,
and placed  my  stool on the  grass,  when in four or five
minutes it suddenly broke, and I fell flat on my  back, as if
shot.   Had  it happened  five  minutes  sooner, as  I cannot
swim,  I must, a thousand to one,  have  been drowned, for I
sat  so  that I must have fidlen  backwards  into the river.  I
had not the smallest fear or idea of the seat's breaking with
me ; and it is very remarkable,  that I had  rather  moved
about  while by  the river, which would   have  been more
likely to break it, whereas I sat quite still when on the grass.
A most providential escape.   Let  me praise God  for it."
  Several of his  private observations during this summer
and autumn are too characteristic to  be  omitted.  When
visiting a house  where there  was  much  society of a trifling
kind, " Sad work, indeed," he says, " oaths of minor kind,
most unprofitable talk, alas ! I would not  Jive at  ' a Place'
to be subject to much of this, for almost any consideration.
Quite  tired  of our  relaxation.  What  absurd work !"  At
another time, " A servant here is dangerously ill.  I know
they have no objection to my talking to  him, yet  I feel a sad
lukewarmness, and  even  averseness to it.    Did  Christ feel
the same towards me and other poor sinners!  Whatever
be  the cause  of my disinclination, shyness,  pride, what it
may, let me not search out for reasons to justify the abstain-
ing from what I wish to avoid, but obey the plain primary
dictates of conscience."  " Praying with the sick servant"
—" I saw the poor man for twenty minutes, and prayed
                           22 
254
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1803.
with him"—appear as entries almost daily during the residue
of his visit.
  In another place he says, " Nothing could exceed the kind-
ness with which our friends received us.  Alas,  it  grieves
me to see a family, in all respects  so  amiable, fooled  at all
by the world.  Their wealth is their bane.  It connects them
with  fashionable, thoughtless neighbours, connects  their
children with frequenters of scenes of dissipation.  Oh may
God bless them !  How hard  is it for them  that have riches
to enter  into, and keep in, the  narrow  road !  Beware, O
my soul."
  Among his Sunday's observations, he says, " I have allow-
ed  so little  time for evening devotions, that  my prayers
have  been too often hurried  over.  'Tis my old fault; my
profane studies, or  my letters, engross  me.  Yet if we be
alienated from God at all, it matters not by what it is, whether
our hearts be  overcharged with  surfeiting, drunkenness, or
cares of this  life: whether with  literature, or  pleasure, or
ambition.  1 have often on a Saturday evening found in my-
self, though I hope not allowed, this kind of sentiment—'Oh
I shall have time enough for religious occupations to-morrow,
and how shall  I find sufficient employment for the  Sunday!'
O Lord, this indicates  a sad want of love.  How different
David's feelings, Psalm  Ixxxiv.    Oh  quicken  me in Thy
righteousness.   Give  me  all holy affections in  their just
measure  of vigour and force."
  His Journal, in which he had lately inserted many notices
concerning his state of mind, concludes with this striking
caution—" Let me  beware, lest I make Christ the minister
of sin, by comforting myself too easily when any temptation
has prevailed over me, with the  reflection, that I have  a
remedy at hand ; it  is'only to humble  myself and  implore
pardon, and, the promises  being sure, to obtain  forgiveness.
There is in truth no  other way; but beware, O my soul, lest
thou provoke God to withdraw His Spirit and leave thee  to
thy natural weakness.   Not I hope that I sin  in the view of
this willingness  of God to forgive, but  I fear, after having
discovered the workings of corruption, that I too easily take
comfort.   Let me rather, when I have thus defected in myself
the humiliating  marks  of  my imperfect state, go softly for
some time.    Let me  think of that God and Saviour with
whom I have trifled ; of my base ingratitude ; of  the aggra-
vating circumstances  of my sins; of the  multitude of the
mercies which have  been poured out  on me; of  the  signal 
1803.
JOURNAL.
255
advantages and privileges with which I have been favoured.
These reflections,  through  the  goodness  of  God and the
working of His Spirit, may produce a more settled lowliness
and watchfulness of mind."
  His health,  at all  times weak, had  been  so shattered by
the fatigues of the preceding  session,  as  to create great
alarm amongst his nearest friends.   The quiet of the vaca-
tion, early hours, and the Bath waters, had  in a great mea-
sure restored  him to his average  state; though he  " was
reminded by" his " sensations that" his " frame was not sus-
ceptible of that thorough repair which it used  to receive at
Bath  in  earlier days."   How he would bear the renewed
fatigues  of London  seemed a  doubtful  question,  and  one
friend wrote repeatedly and  urgently to press upon him the
duty of withdrawing altogether from public  life.  But he was
not of a temper to retire and leave his task half done; and
though he was constitutionally inclined  to  defer too much
to  the opinion of those whose moral qualities  he valued
highly, in this instance  happily his own view of duty was
unshaken.
  He returned to London at the meeting of parliament, and
entered the house while the King's  speech  was  reading.
" How I love to be quiet with my family," he says  at the
close of the recess, " how long a period  of  retirement did it
appear on looking forward, and now it is gone like a dream,
and I am about to plunge into the bustle of life again."
   The ensuing Christmas and the recess were now ap-
proaching, and  he was as usual anxious  to turn it to the
best advantage.  " Who knows but that it may be my last
preparation for eternity."  " My heart is in a sad state.  O
heal my backslidings.  Bring me back to Thee.  Take away
the heart of stone, and give me a heart of flesh.   Blessed be
God that I am not now about to plunge immediately into the
bustle and  hurry of London and  parliamentary business,
but  that a  recess is before  me, in which  I  may have  the
means of some privacy, and opportunities of meditation and
devotional abstraction.   O  Lord,  do Thou  vouchsafe me
Thy quickening Spirit; without  Thee I can do  nothing.
Mortify in  me all ambition, vanity, vain-glory, worldhness,
pride, selfishness,  aversation from God, and fill me with love,
peace, and all the  fruits of the Spirit."  " This is a dull day
with me ; my mind is sadly heavy.   I see with my judgment
the great truths which this day commemorates; that  he who
 enjoyed the glory of the Father before the  world was, came 
256
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1803.
down, emptied Himself, and became a wailing infant for our
sakes.   I see that it was unutterable love, but I seem incapa-
ble of feeling any thing.  I have got up early this last week,
and have  had some  three quarters, or an  hour, for private
devotion in a morning.   I hoped to have perceived on this
day the blessed effects of it;  but I believe  I have too much
reckoned on it as a  settled  thing,  as any effect follows  its
cause.   Res delicata  est Spiritus  Dei.   Perhaps this  dull,
spiritless frame is designed as a punishment to me for this
thought.  But this same course, with more constant  humility
and watchfulness, must be right.  O Lord, enable me  to
press  on.   How wonderful is this callousness! a sort  of
mental paralysis. It may not however be  without its uses;
it may make me feel more how  absolutely helpless I am in
myself; may keep  me more simply dependent on the grace
and Spirit of God.   O Lord, I know not what I  am, but  to
Thee I flee for refuge !  I would surrender myself to Thee,
trusting Thy precious promises, and against hope believing
in hope.  Thou art the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever;
and therefore however cold and dull I am, yet,  waiting  on
the Lord, I trust I shall at length renew my strength. Even
now my heart  seems to grow warmer;  oh let me fall again
to prayer and praise, and implore fresh supplies  of strength
and grace."
  "Give me, Lord, spiritual understanding; let me drink of
the water of life.  To  Thee, O Lord, I fly for succour ;  Thy
promises are sure ! and  Thou  wilt  cast out none that come
to Thee.  There is my stay ; otherwise Thou mightest well
cast me out; but by commanding us  to 'havegrace,'' to grow
in grace,' Thou showest that we may.   Oh let me then rouse
myself, Jest, having preached to others, I myself should  be a
cast-away.  I have found my heart much affected by looking
at past entries in my Journal; and at the idea, that, to the eye
of God, all my various crimes, vanities, and follies, are present,
in  their full, unabated,  unsoftened  size  and  character,  as
they at the time appeared to me. O Lord, enable me to purify
myself as Thou art  pure."  "I  humbly hope I feel deeply
humbled at the  footstool of God's  throne,  and  prostrate I
plead  the atoning blood  of Christ, and humbly trust in His
promises of pardon and of grace.   When I look forward to
the  scene  before me,  and think how ill I  have  gone on, I
shrink back with dread.   But, O Lord, I cast my  care  on
Thee ; I flee to Thee for succour.   Saviour of sinners,  save 
1803.
PITT IN OPPOSITION.
257
 me.  Help, Lord, helpi watch over me, and guide and guard
 me.  Amen. Amen."
   It  is no slight proof of the  high  measure of holiness to
 which  he had attained, that he should have been thus lowly
 in his own sight, whilst those who most continually watched
 his conduct, could only give God thanks for the great grace
 vouchsafed to him.
   It  is  delightful to contrast with his own language  the ob-
 servation of one who, with as holy and as humble a soul, was
 just  entering on his  brief but glorious  course.   Henry
 Martyn  was now passing a few weeks in  London, and was
 brought by  Mr. Grant to  Broomfield.  Here he saw Mr.
 Wilberforce  surrounded by his family and friends.   Their
 " conversation," is  the  language of  Mr.  Martyn's  private
 journal,  " during the whole day was edifying, agreeable to
 what I should think right  for two godly senators : planning
 some means of  bringing before parliament propositions for
 bettering the moral state of the colony of  Botany Bay.  At
 evening worship Mr. Wilberforce expounded sacred  Scrip-
 ture  with serious plainness, and prayed in the midst of his
 large household."
   The  session  opened  upon the 1st of February, and  the
 breach  was  evidently widening between Mr. Pitt and Mr.
 Addington.  " I  need not tell you,"  writes Mr. Wilberforce
 to Lord Muncaster, "that I have endeavoured to keep them
 in amity : but each has been  surrounded with  enemies to
 the other.  Dear Muncaster, Pitt and Addington were in-
 timate friends—I reflect with thankfulness  to Heaven that I
 have  friends who deserve that honourable  appellation ; who
 are bound to me by ties which  no political differences Can
 ever loosen."
  It was in great measure his perfect freedom from the taint
 of party spirit which kept  his natural  affections unimpaired
 amidst the hardening incidents of public life.
  It helped  him  also to maintain a sober  estimate of their
 relative importance, amidst the crowd of objects by which he
 was surrounded; and he would  frequently lament the want
 of this safeguard in other public men, even when he formed
 a favourable judgment of their real principles.
  The holidays suspended for a time the rising strife of par-
 ties, but  when parliament  met early in April, things at once
 assumed a hostile aspect. Immediately on his return Mr. Pitt
desired an interview.  In the course of Wednesday Mr. Wil-
berforce " went up to Pitt,  whom missed yesterday. Talked
                         22* 
258
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1804.
with him. How changed from a few weeks ago !—ready now
to vote out Addington, though  he has not bound himself to
Fox.  I fear  he  has been urged forward by  people of less
wisdom than  himself. I am out of spirits and doubtful about
the  path of duty in these political battles."  "I fear that I am
partly influenced by personal considerations.  I cannot  help '
regretting  that Addington's  temperance  and  conciliation
should not  be connected with  more vigour.  Lord,  direct me
right, and let me preserve an easy mind, resigned to Thee,
and fixed on  Thy favour.   All else is vanity."
  His Sunday thoughts turned in the same direction. "I am
distressed just now by  the state of political parties. My dis-
tress arises partly  I  hope from  real doubts how I ought to
act, yet I fear there is also a mixture of worldly fear, and also
a weakness of nature,  which  though not unamiable, ought
not to be suffered  to influence conduct, or even to discom-
pose me.   O Lord, to  Thee I will pray, to enlighten my un-
derstanding and direct  my judgment, and then to strengthen
me to take the path of duty with a firm and composed though
feeling mind.  Poor Addington ! with all his faults, I feel for
him.  But  what a lesson  does he read  me !   Had he really
acted up  to  his principles, he might  probably have been
above his present  difficulties.   O Lord, Thou rulest.   Thy
will be done.  And keep me from being absorbed  by, or too
solicitous about, worldly things, remembering that a  Chris-
tian is to regard and feel  himself a stranger, and a pilgrim,
and to  have his portion,  his  conversation, his treasure, his
country in heaven.  Be these my habitual feelings, through
Thy grace, O Lord."
   Various entries in his Journal prove the anxiety with which
he  laboured to maintain a friendly feeling between Addington
and Pitt, but ineffectually.  At length the disaffection of the
people caused the King to place Pitt once more at the  head
of government.
   The new ministry had no sooner entered upon  office than
Mr. Wilberforce renewed his. motion for the Abolition of the
Slave Trade.  The question had seemed to slumber for the
last four years.  In 1800 and 1801, the plan of abolishing by
a general convention had appeared too promising to be risked
by a parliamentary defeat.  In 1802, the important object of
preventing new crimes in  Trinidad had produced  such delay
that the session had closed before the measure had made any
progress ;  and in  the last year  Mr. Wilberforce's  purpose of
 securing the earliest season of discussion was defeated, first 
1804.             PROGRESS OF ABOLITION.              259

by his own illness, and then by the public danger. The time
for a renewal of his motion had at length arrived, and it  was
under fresh and  favourable auspices that he resumed  his
arms.
  It was not to the change of government that the Abolition
was indebted for these brighter prospects; though the substitu-
tion of a Cabinet, in  which it  had many warm  friends, for
one almost wholly hostile, was a favourable  circumstance.
But the  cause of Abolition " had obtained  many converts of
late years,"  through the  altered situation of the  country.
Its failure in 1792 had been occasioned by a fear of French
principles, which  the conduct of  some leading advocates at
home had too  much countenanced.   The House  of Com-
mons which was returned in  1796, when this fear was at
its  height, had  been  unreasonably  but deeply prejudiced
against  any  change in our Colonial system.  But the aspect
of affairs had  now  altered.  In  France, democracy had
assumed the Jess  attractive features  of  military despotism;
while the common danger had  rendered  an unsuspecting
spirit of loyalty  almost  general in  Great Britain;  and
Jacobinism happily was too much discredited either to  ren-
der to the Abolition  her  destructive  aid,  or  supply a con-
venient  reproach for its supporters.
  Besides this important  change, some  of the West Indian
body had withdrawn or moderated their opposition.  When
mentioning,  early in the year, that he was " about to bring
on again the question of Abolition ;" " some of the  principal
West Indians," he says, " begin themselves to relish the idea
of suspending the Slave Trade for three or five years. They
have not the assurance to pretend to be influenced by any
principles of justice, (this is literally true,) but merely by a
sense of interest.   The soil of Demerara, Berbice, and Suri-
nam,  is so  fertile that  one  acre will produce as  much  as
three (generally speaking) in our old islands.  There is also
in them an inexhaustible store of untilled land, fit for sugar.
Consequently, the proprietors  of estates, knowing that  the
demand for  sugar is not even now greater than the supply,
are afraid lest they should be in the situation of owners of an
old and deep mine, who are ruined by the discovery of some
other where the ore can be obtained almost on the surface.
I can of course consent to no compromise, but I shall rejoice
in Africa's having such a  breathing time, and I am really in
hopes of seeing some fruit of my labours in this field. I shall
esteem  it one of the greatest mercies if I am permitted to see 
260
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1804.
the dawning of light in Africa ;  any disposition on our  part
to withdraw that  black  cloud  by which we have so  long
shut out from its  poor inhabitants the light of Christianity
and the comforts of civilization."
   He determined  at once to introduce his motion ; but not
daring to look forward to entire success, he wished to engage
Mr. Pitt to come forward to  his  succour by proposing the
suspension of the Trade.  To this proposal Mr. Pitt readily
agreed, but wrote to him a few days afterwards, declining
to do so.
   He was therefore to renew single-handed  this  great con-
test, whilst against him was arrayed a  body not stronger for
its wealth and numbers, than for the character, talents,  and
station of many of its members; which  extended its influ-
ence through the aristocracy of the land, which had a prince
of the blood for its avowred advocate in the  upper House of
parliament, and above all was supported by men who, like
George Ellis, ruled the literary world, and who plainly  told
him that they " differed from him totally on the great subject
of Abolition."
  Upon the 30th of May he moved the first reading  of his
Bill.   Though complimented by  one of his opponents for his
ingenuity in finding new arguments on so hackneyed a sub-
ject, he was himself discontented with  the spirit with  which
he introduced the question.  "I  never  felt so  discomposed,
and stiff, and little  at ease on any former occasion,  and  I
own I think I did not  do near so well  as usual, though  the
Speaker said he hoped I had satisfied  myself, as I had done
every body else.  The anti-abolitionists made no stand in
speaking."   They failed no lesson a division. " We divided
124 against 49. All the Irish members voted with  us.  There
was a great Irish dinner, 33 or 34 dining together. Lord De
Blaquiere gave my health as a toast, and they all  came and
voted for us.  Lee and Lord De Blaquiere spoke and did
good.   Addington in a speech of one minute opposed  us as
impracticable, and blindly threw out a  Committee. Barham
with us. Pitt and Fox a few words. On coming home found
Brougham, Stephen, Macaulay, Grant, Henry Thornton,  &c.
John Villiers came, and he, I, Stephen,  Brougham, and Wil-
liam Smith  talked over and settled Bill.  Stephen and I had
more talk afterwards.   To bed late."
  Thus was the Abolition of the Slave Trade for a third
time voted  by the House of Commons ; but not as formerly,
through the hesitating concurrence of a scarce perceptible 
1804.
LETTER TO JOHN NEWTON.
261
majority. Its supporters were now as overwhelming in num-
bers as they had always been in argument. From that night
the issue of the question was clear.  The venerable Newton
expressed  his doubts  whether he,  who was " within  two
months of entering upon his eightieth year, should live to see
the accomplishment of the work: but the prospect," he adds,
" will give  me daily satisfaction so long as my declining fa-
culties are preserved."   Mr. Wilberforce replied—

                TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON,

                                    " Palace Yard, Friday.
" My dear  Sir,
   I steal one moment from business  and bustle to thank you
most cordially for your kind congratulations. I really scarce-
ly deserve  them for not having called on you for  so  long a
time, yet I  must do myself the justice  to declare, that my
having neglected so to do has  in no degree arisen from any
want of that affection  and esteem which I  must ever feel
for you.  O my dear sir, it is refreshing to me to turn away
my eye from the vanities  with which it is surrounded, and
to fix it on you, who appear in some sort to be already (like
Moses descending  from the  mount)  enlightened with the
beams of that blessed day which is  beginning to rise on you,
as you approach to the very boundaries of this  world's ho-
rizon.  May you soon enjoy it in its meridian lustre. Pray
for us, my dear sir, that we also may be enabled  to hold on
our way, and at last  to join  with  you in the shout  of vic-
tory.
   I fear the House of Lords!  But it seems as if He, who has
the  hearts  of all men  in his  power,  was beginning to look
with pity on the sufferings of those poor oppressed  fellow-
creatures whose cause 1 assert.   I  shall  ever reckon it the
greatest of all my temporal favours, that I have been provi-
dentially led to take the conduct of this business.
       In extreme haste, I remain,  my dear sir,
                Yours affectionately and sincerely,
                                     W. Wilberforce."

   But many vexatious difficulties still opposed the progress
 of the Bill.   Some  friends deserted  him, and  even of Mr.
 Pitt he says, " never so dissatisfied with him as at this time."
 Through all his trials, however, he persevered with a patient
 determination which nothing  short of the holy principles by 
262
life of wilberforce.
1804.
which he was actuated could supply.   Nor did he  allow the
one object to absorb his attention and  prevent his active co-
operation in other plans for the benefit of his fellow-men.
  " May 2d. Town—City Bible Society general meeting— ^
they forced me to speak.  13th. After  much doubt, resolved
and went to hear Hall at meeting—very energetic and sim-
ply vehement, on 1 Tim. ' Glorious gospel.'  He seemed to
labour with a sense of the weight and importance  of his
subject. Truly evangelical also. Excellent indeed—language
simple—thoughts just,  deep, and  often elevated—excelling
in experimental applications of Scripture, often with immense
effect—begins  calmly and  simply, warms as proceeds,  till
vehement, and energetic, and impassioned.   All of us struck
with him.  Simeon with us—his first hearing of Hall.   14th.
Breakfasted  at  Henry  Thornton's to meet  Hall—Hannah
More and  Patty.  Hall very clever, unaffected, and pleasing
in conversation.  Town—Hatchard's—Suppression of Vice
Society—read  their report of proceedings—highly useful.
Lord  Radstock  had in  a  month got them about 153 mem-
bers, many of them of high rank.
  "Town.   Sierra Leone Committee.  House.  Fever Insti-
tution. Brougham  and  Grant dined—much talk.  Brougham
very unassuming, animated, and apparently well inclined to
religion."
  His  own  choice would  have been  a very different life.
"Dined quietly," he says, "for the  first time this age.   How
delightful is  a little peace in the country !" At times, indeed,
as he tells Mr. Hey, he was disposed to seek more quiet  by
a change of residence.  " Broomfield, (I wish you knew it
better,)" for  even at this moment his hospitable spirit  would
have added to the crowd of friends around him, " is a scene
of almost as much  bustle as Old Palace Yard.  So much  so,
that the incessant  worry  (it is an expressive word) of this
house makes me think of quitting it, and I should not hesitate
for a moment,  were it not for our having  several valuable
friends so near us. The Henry Thorntons, Stephens, Teign-
mouths, Venn, &c.  I consider the neighbourhood in  which
I fix myself a point of still more importance, now that I am
the father  of several  children.  I should scarcely be able to
avoid occasional visitings among my neighbours wherever  I
might live, and what irreparable injury might my young peo-
ple  receive from their  accidental  conversations with  those
who by courtesy  of language are called  friends.  I have
already discovered that children are very sagacious and at- 
1804.
SUMMER EMPLOYMENTS.
263
tentive observers, and shrewd in  detecting inconsistencies.
Often when they seem to be playing about the room heed-
less of all that is going forward, it appears afterwards, that
they heard and  remembered too the conversation which was
going forward."
  Leaving Broomfield in the beginning of September,  he
moved with his whole family to Lyme, in Dorsetshire, where
he " hoped to enjoy something of to me the  greatest of all
luxuries, as well as the best of all medicines, quiet. I allow my-
self two or three hours open air daily, and have enjoyed more
than one solitary stroll with a  Testament, a Cowper, or a
Psalter, for my  companion."  He delighted to exchange the
bustle of  his public life for this domestic privacy.  " Here,"
he breaks off in the midst of a  letter to Hannah More, " I am
irresistibly summoned to a contest at marbles, and in these
days of the rights of man, as  I would not furnish any  valid
ground for rebellion, and  remembered 1 was at Lyme, I
obe}7ed the call."  He could now too indulge, in some de-
gree, his keen relish of natural beauties, and the common air.
He " read much out of doors,  and wrote with a pencil," and
" had many a delightful  walk along  the  hoarse resounding
shore, meditating on better things than poor blind  Homer
knew or sung of"
  Yet this was  no idle time. He tells Lord Muncaster, " You
are not however to suppose me idle here, because I  am not
employed in business of the same kind as that which wor-
ries me in town. I scarce ever remember to have been  more
occupied.  A friend  has found me a  good deal  of work in
revising an intended publication.  I own I am selfish  enough
to grudge a little the trouble, for it  sometimes  costs me as
much to  piece  in an addition  which I think necessary, as it
would to write a new chapter.  I have also  been scribbling
a little thing for the Christian  Observer,  which  I will  send
you, but you must not mention its author; and another for
a similar work,  for the benefit of our great cause.  Thus I have
given you a hint of some of my operations.  But my letters
are my grand  employment; it is shocking to say it, but I
brought to this place a box full of unanswered epistles, and
each day has supplied a new demand.  But surely I am be-
come as great an egotist as  the celebrated counsellor himself.
Here have I filled all this sheet  with an account of myself
and my own avocations.  It is not. however  egotism that  is
censured, but egotism in the wrong place. If I were to enter-
tain the House of Commons  with the manner in which I 
264
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1805.
 spent my time at Lyme, I should justly become the object of
 ridicule;  but not in writing to a friend, who loves to hook
 on and run in couples  with  me through  the twenty-four
 hours, let me  be employed how I may."
   " Wrote an  article for the Edinburgh Review;  answer to
 Defence  of the Slave Trade  on Grounds  of Humanity."
 "You would smile," he tells  Mrs. Hannah More, " if you
 knew how I am now employed."  " Also  for Christian Ob-
 server—a review of Lord Chatham's Letters, with which  I
 took  pains; a paper on Baxter; and another introductory to
 a Narrative Series.  Much of  the morning spent  in looking
 over  Stephen's Manuscript, and Hannah  More's  intended
 publication on  the  Education  of a  Princess, and adding a
 good  deal of new matter."
   The 1st of January, 1805, found  him " too busy to write
 much, yet desiring to record the goodness of the Lord ; His
 great forbearance and  long-suffering; His  kindness during
 the last year in preserving us and our dear children, and
 enabling us to  enjoy so much domestic happiness and social
 comfort, especially at this place.  But I must stop and go to
 prayer."
  This quiet happiness was speedily disturbed.  Upon the
 5th of January  he " heard from Pitt that an  opposition was
 expected the first day of the session," and judged " it right
 to come up."  Mr. Pitt's summons was brief and earnest.

 „,T   ,     _IT.,,  „              " Downing Street, Jan. 4, 1805.
 " My  dear Wilberforce,
  I have hardly time for more than one word, and that word
 I am afraid must be ' Come,"1 though I say so with reluctance
 under the  circumstances you mention.  But  by my last ac-
 counts, opposition is collecting all its force, and it is therefore
 very important  that we should  secure as full an attendance
 as possible.  There are a great  many points on which I shall
 be very impatient to talk with  you, but on which I have no
 time to write.
                      Ever affectionately yours,
                                              W. P."

  This call he  at once obeyed, casting  only one  lingering
look at the peaceful quietness which  he was leaving   " If it
 were  not  best  to acquiesce cheerfully and entirely in the
will of God, I  should grieve at being so poorly to-day, be-
cause it is  probably my last Sunday before I go to London 
1805.
JOURNAL.
265
 to engage  in the hurly-burly scene I there dwell in.  I feel
 like one who is about to launch into a stormy sea, and who
 knows from fatal experience how little his own powers are
 equal to its buffetings. O Lord, do Thou fit me for it.  Enable
 me  to seek thy glory,  and not my own ; to  watch  unto
 prayer;  to wait diligently on God; to  love  Him  and my
 Redeemer  from  the  heart; and to  be constrained by this
 love to live actively and faithfully devoting  all my  faculties
 and powers to His  service, and the benefit  of my fellow-
 creatures.   Especially let  me discharge with fidelity  and
 humility the duties of my proper station, as unto the Lord,
 and not unto men; submitting patiently  to the will  of  God,
 if it be His will that  we should  be defeated  in our  effort to
 deliver our country from the load of guilt and shame which
 now hangs round her neck, and is, perhaps, like a gangrene,
 eating out her vital strength, and preparing, though gradu-
 ally, the  consummation of her ruin.   O Lord,  do Thou lead
 and  guide me.
  " On looking back, what sad proofs have I  had  lately of
 the  inward workings of ambition, on seeing others, once my
 equals, or  even my  inferiors,  rise to  situations  of  high
 worldly rank, station, power, and splendour !   I bless  God,
 I do not  acquiesce in these vicious  tempers, but strive
 against  them,  and not, I hope, in vain.  Remember, O my
 soul, no man can serve  two masters.  Have  I not a better
 portion  than this world can  bestow!   Would not a still
 higher situation  place  both  me and my children in  less
 favourable circumstances for making our calling and election
 sure !  Covet  not then, O my soul, these objects of  worldly
anxiety.  Let  God be thy portion, and seek the true riches,
the  glory and honour which are connected with immortality.
Yet turn not from those who have these honours with cyni-
cal or envious malignity, but  rejoice  in their temporal  com-
fort and gratification, while you pray for them, and strive to
do them good by preventing them from being injured  by their
exaltation."
  He  reached  Broomfield  upon  the  12th   of January.
" Through  God's good  providence we are  all returned in
 peace and safety; and now, before I plunge into the stormy
sea  I am about to enter, I would pray to God through Christ,
by the Holy Spirit, to strengthen me with might in the inner
 man; to enable  me to walk by faith, to  let my light shine
before men, and  to become meet to be a partaker of the in-
heritance of the saints in light.   O my soul, remember thy
                          23 
266
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1805.
portion  is not here.  Mind  not high  things.  Be not con-
formed to this world.  Commit thy way unto the Lord, and
delight thyself in God.  Let the men of this world pass by
thee in the race of honours,  but  thine be the honour which
cometh of God, thine the glory which is connected with im-
mortality."
  The following morning he "called on Pitt,  who told me of
the offer of negotiation from  Buonaparte.   His schemes
large and deep.  His hopes sanguine." " You will, I  know,"
he  heard from Mr. Pitt,  " be glad,  independent of politics,
that  Addington, and I have  met as friends; but I hope  you
will also not be sorry to hear that that event  will lead to po-
litical re-union."   He was extremely pleased with this re-
conciliation between " two friends who had no public ground
of difference."  He was  gratified too by Mr. Pitt's anxiety
to acquaint him with it.   " It showed me that he understood
my real feelings."   Upon the 1st of February he "called on
Pitt, and walked with him round the Park. Pleased with his
statements of disposition not to quarrel with Addington."
" ' I am sure,' he said, ' that you are glad to hear that Ad-
dington and I are  at one again.'  And then  he added, with
a  sweetness of manner which I shall never forget, ' I think
they are a little hard upon us in finding fault with our making
it up again, when we have been friends from our childhood,
and our fathers were so before us, while they say nothing to
Grenville for uniting with Fox, though they have been fight-
ing all their lives.' "
   In spite  of the  accession of Lord Sid mouth's partisans,
Mr. Pitt felt that his  majorities  were  feeble, and wished to
put aside all questions which could  divide his friends.   On
this ground  he  pressed  earnestly by private remonstrance
for the postponement of the  Abolition question;  but Mr.
Wilberforce would never " make that holy cause subservient
to the interest of a party;"  and being convinced by the ex-
perience of the former session, that he must  begin at once  if
he  would carry any measure through the House of Lords,
on the 6th  of February he gave notice of his motion.  Mr.
Pitt could  estimate his motives—he  " called upon  me and
was very kind about it."  The Bill was " read a first time
on the 19th, and the second reading  fixed for the Thursday
se'nnight."   He had no fears about the House of Commons,
but that night brought  one of those reverses, by which his
constancy was so often tried during the twenty years of this
hard struggle.  After a " morning of business as usual," and
" eating at home in a hurry," he went down to the House 
1805.          LETTER TO LORD MUNCASTER.            267

on the " second reading of the Abolition Bill.  I said nothing
at opening, and not enough at the close, but did not expect
such an issue. Besides, felt as if I could not go well.   Beat,
alas, 70 to 77.  Sad work !  Though I thought we might be
hard run from the face of the House, I  could not expect the
defeat, and all expressed astonishment.  The Irish members
absent, or even turned against us."
  This failure pained him deeply.  " I never felt so much on
any parliamentary occasion.   I  could  not sleep after first
waking at night.   The poor blacks  rushed into my  mind,
and the guilt of our wicked land."   Yet  he had no doubts
of his ultimate success.  " I bless God," are his private re-
flections on the Sunday following this disappointment,  " that
I feel more than  of late I  have done, that  humble,  peaceful,
confiding  hope in the  mercy of God, reconciled in  Christ
Jesus,  which  tranquillizes the mind, and creates  a  desire
after that blessed state, where we shall  be completely de-
livered from the bondage of our corruptions, as well as from
all our bodily pains and sicknesses,  and  all  our mental
anxieties and griefs: where  the  injustice, oppression, and
cruelty, the wickedness, the  falsehood, the  selfishness, the
malignity, of this bad world  shall be no more ; but  peace,
and truth, and love, and holiness, shall prevail for ever.  O
Lord, purify my heart, and make me meet for that blessed
society.  Alas, how sadly do  I still find myself beset by my
constitutional  corruptions !  I trust  the grief I felt on the
defeat of my Bill on Thursday last, proceeded from sympathy
with the wretched victims, whose sufferings are before my
mind's eye, yet I  fear in part  also less pure affections mixed
and  heightened   the smart—regret  that I had not made a
greater and better fight in the way of speaking ; vexation at
the shame of the  defeat.   O Lord, purify me.  I do  not, God
be merciful to me, deserve the signal  honour of being the
instrument of putting  an end to this atrocious  and un-
paralleled wickedness.  But,  O Lord, let me earnestly pray
Thee to pity  these children  of affliction,  and to terminate
their unequalled wrongs ; and O direct and guide me in this
important conjuncture, that I  may act so as may be most
agreeable to Thy will.  Amen."
   On the  following day he told Lord Muncaster—
                                  " London, March 4,1805.
   » Alas,  my dear Muncaster, from the fatal moment of our
defeat on  Thursday evening, I have had a damp struck into
my heart.   I could not sleep either on Thursday or Friday 
268
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1805.
night, without dreaming of scenes of depredation and cruelty
on  the injured  shores  of Africa, and by a  fatal  connexion
diffusing the  baleful effects through the  interior of that vast
continent.  I really have had  no spirits to write to you.
Alas, my friend, in what a world do we live!   Mammon is
the god we adore, as much almost as if we actually bowed
the knee to his  image."
  He had been,  as  usual,  overburdened  with  business
throughout the  session  of parliament.  " This living in Palace
Yard,"  he complains,  " is destructive to my time.   In the
morning I rise  between eight  and nine (being useless if I
have not had my  full dose of sleep).  I dress, hearing Terry
[his reader] from  half-past nine to ten.   Prayers and break-
fast at a quarter after ten.   From thence constant callers, or
breakfasters—proper people—and my house not clear com-
monly, and I able to  get out, till near one.   Then I have
often to call at  the public offices, and if a committee morn-
ing, I have scarce any writing time  before dinner.  Then
after House,  friends—Babington, Grant, Henry Thornton,
and others drop in, so that I get scarcely any time for think-
ing on political  topics, or preparing for debates. A residence
near London  would withdraw  me  from company, and give
me more time.  Yet I dread the separation which my leaving
Broomfield would make  from my chief friends, the Thorn-
tons, Teignmouths, Stephens, Venn, Macaulay, with whom
I now live like a brother."
  His feelings were again tried by " three of his warmest
supporters in Yorkshire, who all solicited" of him " a living
for  M.   I am forced to decline asking.  I fear they will be
affronted, yet God is able to turn the  hearts of men as the
rivers of water."
  This was no  unusual trial  of his firmness.  " I am much
hurt by solicitations from my friend N. for a living. It hurls
me greatly to appear ungrateful to one who has been so kind
to me, and it  may materially affect my interest also.   But  I
must adhere to  my principles, and trust the event to God.  If
I lose my seat really on this account, can I be removed more
honourably!  It would be a minor martyrdom."
  His letters  during this autumn bear marks of his nearness
to the fountain-head of political intelligence.  He not  unfre-
quently  " drove into town to see Pitt," and " had much talk
with him upon  political topics, finding  him very open and
kind." 
1805.
LETTER TO HANNAH MORE.
269
                   TO MRS. HANNAH MORE.
                               " Near London, Sept. 9, 1805.
 " My dear Friend,
   Having my pen in hand, I must chat  with you for a few
 minutes, though they must be but few. I quite rejoiced in your
 having the Bishop of London under your roof: I can picture
 to myself his innocent playfulness and affectionate vivacity,
 and how very happy he would be with you, and you all with
 him.  I wonder you could keep it all to yourself, for it is
 really true, that when I heard he was to  be with you, I was
 very near scribbling to you on the moment, to wish you joy
 of an event which  would give  you so much fair pleasure.
 How truly amiable he is !
   I have no comfort in public affairs, except that our  friend
 Lord Barham is at the helm ; for though never man came to
 it in such trying times, (this is especially true in his depart-
 ment,) yet I cannot but hope that we shall see an illustration
 of' Him that honoureth Me I will honour.'
   With the experience of the last war fresh in my recollec-
 tion, how can I participate in those visions of glory, in  which
 I fear a friend of mine is even still ready to indulge, though
 I am afraid they will never receive  a local habitation  and a
 name.  Well—the Lord reigneth.   We are more and  more
 driven for comfort to that bottom, and it is sound anchoring
 ground which will never fail us.
   Have jrou received any more intimations from high places,
 about the disposition to act up to your hints 1 I greatly re-
 joice  in  your having written that  book, on  every ground,
 both public and  personal.
   Poor Lady Waldegrave has been with us,  and on the
 whole as well as one could expect, though  sadly weather-
 beaten.  Oh what a change will the next world make to her!
 Her voyage has  been tempestuous, but I doubt not she will
 reach the  desired haven.  And «Oh the thought that thou
 art safe !'   Yes,  my dear friend, there is nothing else  worth
 living for. May we more and more feel this great truth, and
 live accordingly."

  His want of confidence in the national counsels did not
arise merely from his " recollection of the last  war."   His
 spirits  were lowered by the consideration of the national
sins.  He reflected that there had  been few,  if any, symp-
toms of general amendment.   " The parliamentary recogni-
tion of Sunday drilling has added, I must say, to the appre-
                           23* 
270
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1805.
hensions  which the Slave Trade,  and  the  contemptuous
treatment of Christianity in our colonial possessions, from
first to last, have so long infused. I have been  of late making
strong representations to Lord Castlereagh, on the dreadful
state of morals in New South Wales.   I have been assured
on good authority, that  of near two thousand children now
in the colony, there are not one hundred who receive any
education at all."
  One quarter, however, offered a less gloomy, though not
less  affecting prospect;  and he did but share the feelings of
the nation, at the news of Nelson's victory and death, when
he was " so overcome that he could not go on  reading  for
tears."  There was too  little of this chastened spirit in the
official announcement of the great victory of Trafalgar. This
was Lord Muncaster's remark upon their tone.  " There would
methinks  have been something  noble, dignified, and  most
uncommonly interesting in the great minister  of the empire
gratefully acknowledging as it were before the whole people,
the Divine blessing given to the arms of the country.  What
quizzism  could  he  have been afraid  of, adopting the  lan-
guage of the hero victors!  Lord Burleigh had not this fear
when he made his reply  to Walsingham.  Lest  you should
not recollect it, I will briefly state  it to you.  Sir Francis
Walsingham had been waiting to confer with  him on some
business  or other, and  at length Lord Burleigh coming in
from prayers, Sir Francis jocularly (which in the cant of the
present day would  be styled quizzingly,) said to him, ' that
he wished himself so good a  servant of God as Lord Bur-
leigh, but  that he had not been at church for a week past.'
To which Lord Burleigh thus gravely replied : «I hold it
meet for us to ask God's grace to keep us sound of heart,
who have so much in  our power; and to direct us to our
well-doing for all the people, whom  it is easy for us to injure
and ruin; and herein, my good friend, the  special  blessing
seemeth meet to be discreetly asked and wisely worn.' This
single trait of Lord Burleigh's character, standing upon most
excellent authority, has  always  lifted  him more in my esti-
mation, than  all his wise policies  and councils.  I should
have been truly delighted  and  gratified, to  have had the
public proof I have alluded to, that somewhat the same train
of ideas governed the great minister of our day.  Lord Col-
lingwood appears to be a worthy successor of Nelson."
  Mr. Wilberforce heartily assented to these views. 
1805.          LETTER TO LORD MUNCASTER.            271

                               " Yoxall Lodge, Nov. 25, 1805.
" My dear Muncaster,
  Had I  been in town you may be pretty sure you would
have heard from me of the signal victories with which  the
Almighty had vouchsafed to bless our naval arms.  I well
know how your heart would expand on the intelligence.
Would to God, my dear Muncaster, (I say it seriously and
from the heart, not with  levity, and therefore vainly,) that
the nation in general, and especially that our great men and
rulers, felt as you seem to have done on the occasion; that
they had looked like you beyond second causes, and had
seen the kind hand of the Almighty Disposer  of all things,
in the many, many deliverances our highly favoured nation
has experienced.
  I was delighted with Collingwood's  general orders for a
day of humiliation and thanksgiving. The latter I had heard
of in the case of Lord Duncan's victory  and  some others,
but I do not remember to have ever heard of the mention of
imploring pardon for sins, as well as  returning thanks for
blessings.  The former pleased me particularly, for nothing
can more magnify goodness than its being unmerited, and
that, on the contrary, punishment has been rather deserved.
But, my dear Muncaster, how abominable it is, that though,
as we have recently learned, Lord Nelson and several others
have ordered general thanksgivings on shipboard after vic-
tories, yet that these orders have never till now appeared in
the Gazette ;  and consequently they have not been known,
and  have not  produced their  proper effect on the public
mind."
   He was on a visit to Mr. Babington when he heard " the
sad news of the armistice after the entire  defeat of the Aus-
trians and Russians  at Austerlitz.  God can preserve us—
apparently we shall be in the most imminent danger."   But
the full evil of this blow he did not learn until after his return
to town. " Jan. 21st..  To London on  parliament's meeting.
Heard sad account of Pitt, and  opposition put off intended
amendment."   Austerlitz had struck a fatal blow at the
health of this high-minded man, and a tie was about to be
severed  to which  Mr. Wilberforce had owed  much  of the
influence, and many of the difficulties, of his  earlier  years.
" 22d.   Quite unsettled and uneasy about Pitt, so to town.
Heard  bad account.  Called on various  friends, and on
Rose, who quite  overcome.  He had been long at Putney
talking to Bishop of Lincoln.  Physicians said all was hope- 
272
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1806.
 less.  Rose suggested to me about paying Pitt's debts, and
 even that I should make the motion.  I thought, but I own
 on reflection, my judgment decidedly against it.  Consulted
 Bankes.  He likewise contra.  23d.  Heard from Bishop of
 Lincoln that Pitt had died about half-past four in the morn-
 ing.   Deeply rather than pathetically affected by it.   Pitt
 killed  by the enemy as much as Nelson.  Babington went
 to dine at Lord Teignmouth's, but I had no mind to go out."

                  TO LORD MUNCASTER.
                                  "Broomfield, Jan. 25, 1806.
 " My dear  Muncaster,
    *   *   *   «There is  something peculiarly  affecting
 in the time and circumstances of poor Pitt's death.   I own I
 have a thousand  times (ay,  times without number) wished
 and hoped that a  quiet interval would be afforded him, per-
 haps in the evening of life, in which he and I might confer
 freely on the most important of all subjects.  But the scene
 is closed—for ever.
  Of course what I am about to  say is in strict confidence.
 I have heard, not without surprise, that his debts are consi-
 derable, a sum was named as large as £40 or 50,000. This
 must have  been roguery, for he really  has not for many
 years lived at a rate of more than £5 or  6000  per  annum.
 I do not say this lightly ;  and he has had an income  since he
 got the Cinque Ports of £10,000 per annum.
  To whom are the debts due ! If to tradesmen, they ought
 to be paid, but might not debts to other sort of people, rich
 connexions, &c. be suspected; and the very idea of the peo-
 ple's paying these is monstrous.  I must say, however, that
 considering the number of affluent men connected with  Pitt,
 some of whom have got great and lucrative places from him,
 I cannot doubt but that, with perfect privacy and delicacy, a
 subscription might be made, adequate to the purpose."

  During the next week he was  unceasingly employed " to
get  people  to agree to a subscription to pay Pitt's debts.
Tried many, but cold in general, except Attorney-General,
[Perceval,] who warm and generous as always."
  His  plan was finally defeated by the motion about  the
debts in the  House  of Commons.   The sum  of £40,000
which was due to tradesmen, was discharged by the nation.
Mr. Pitt's private friends had raised £12,000 in the autumn
of  1801, to relieve him from embarrassment; and  one 
1806.               DEATH OF MR. PITT.                273

amongst them who owed the most  to the friendship of the
minister, was anxious that these claims should be added to
the public grant.   This  degrading proposition was happily
defeated;  but not till Mr. Wilberforce had solemnly declared,
that if the matter were  proposed  in parliament, he would
(being one of the creditors) give it his most earnest and perse-
vering opposition.   It is pleasing to turn from this  conduct
to that of Mr. Perceval, who, with a large family and mode-
rate fortune, at once offered  £1000 to the  proposed  sub-
scription.
  This is not the place  for his matured  estimate of his
friend's character, but  his  letters  written at the  moment
afford  a lively picture of his  first impressions.  " Mr. Pitt
had foibles, and of course they were not diminished by  so
long a continuance in office; but for a clear and  compre-
hensive view of the most complicated subject in all its  rela-
tions ;  for that fairness of mind which disposes a man to
follow  out, and when overtaken to recognize  the truth; for
magnanimity, which made him ready to change his measures
when he thought the good of the country required it, though
he knew he should be charged with inconsistency on account
of the  change ; for willingness  to give a fair hearing to  all
that could be urged against his own opinions, and to listen
to the suggestions of men, whose understandings  he knew
to be inferior to his own ; for  personal purity, disinterested-
ness, integrity, and love of his country, I have never known
his equal."   " His  strictness in regard to truth was  asto-
nishing, considering the situation he had so long filled,"

                   TO LADY WALDEGRAVE.

                                   " Broomfield, Feb. 1, 1806.
" My dear Lady W.
  I was just about to take up the pen two days ago, when
the  account reached me of the melancholy  event,* which
will naturally call forth still more painful feelings and more
tender sensibilities in your mind.   It is indeed very awful,
and is  sufficient to strike with seriousness the  most incon-
siderate hearts, that just at this moment, when  our old na-
tional fabric is assailed so powerfully from without, the Al-
mighty seems to be taking from us our main  props within ;
whatever  was most eminent for talents and public spirit and
* The death of Lord Cornwallis. 
274
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1806.
 heroism—Nelson,  Pitt,  and Cornwallis,  all gone together.
 Yet the same events have very different aspects.  It is pos-
 sible, (reasoning from the contents of the  Holy Scriptures,
 whence alone we can derive our scanty knowledge of the
 Divine  principles of conduct,) it is possible, and I would hope,
 but I own with more than a counterbalancing of a contrary
 fear,  that the Almighty may intend to show us our folly in
 trusting to an arm of flesh, and that He can deliver and pro-
 tect us, when they are no more, in  whom our ungrateful and
 irreligious  nation has been  used to repose its  chief confi-
 dence.
   How do  these events tend  to  illustrate  the vanity of
 worldly greatness !  Poor Pitt,  I almost believe died  of—
 a broken heart!  for it is only due to him  to declare that the
 love of his country burned in him with as ardent a flame as
 ever warmed the human  bosom,  and the accounts from the
 armies  struck a  death's  blow  within.   A broken heart!
 What, was he like Otway, or Collins, or Chatterton, who had
 not so much as a needful complement of food to sustain their
 bodies,  while the consciousness  of unrewarded  talents, of
 mortified pride, pressed on them within,  and  ate out their
 very souls!  Was he even like Suwaroff, another most useful
 example, basely deserted  and  driven into exile  by the so-
 vereign he had so long served!  No, he was in  the station,
 the highest in power and  estimation in the  whole kingdom
 —the favourite, I  believe on the whole,  both of King  and
 people.  Yes, this man who died of a broken heart was First
 Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer.  The
 time and circumstances of his death were peculiarly affecting,
 and  I really  believe, however incredulous you may be,  that
it dwelt on the minds of the  people  in London  for—shall I
 say, as  I was going to say,  a  whole week!—I really never
remember any event producing  so  much apparent feeling.
But London soon returned to its gayety and giddiness, and
all the world  has  been  for many days busied about the in-
heritance, before the late possessor is laid  in his grave.  Poor
fellow !  It is an inexpressible  satisfaction to me to be  able
to  reflect, that I never gave him reason for a moment to be-
lieve that I had any object whatever  of  a  worldly kind in
view, in continuing my friendly connexion.
   I  have  been  interrupted,  and  must  very  unwillingly
hasten  to a  conclusion.  I  had hoped to fill another sheet,
and  without unmeaning apologies  for prolixity.  Let me
however add a few sentences.  As to poor Pitt's death, I 
1806.         LETTER TO LADY WALDEGRAVE.            275

fear  the  account  in the newspapers is not  correct.   But I
have not been able to learn many particulars.   Indeed he
spoke very little for some days before he died, and was ex-
tremely weakened and reduced on the Wednesday morning,
when he was first talked to as  a dying man.  He expired
early on  Thursday morning.
   Your  Ladyship  will  conceive  how this  event has sad-
dened my heart.  Of Lord  Cornwallis's  death, I have not
heard many particulars,  and you will doubtless be fully and
minutely  informed.  But I have learned from good authority,
that the anxiety for the public good, and the earnestness  in
discharging the duties of his station, the forgetfulness of self,
continued entire; and there were some remarkable proofs of
it to the very last.
  I have been  labouring with great diligence,  but  unsuc-
cessfully, to get poor Pitt's debts (amounting in the whole to
near £50,000) paid  by the private contributions  of his
friends, connexions, and admirers, rather than by the nation.
I grieve  lest the  payment  by a vote of parliament,  should
be made a precedent, though most  unfairly, for the pay-
ment of other debts;  and lest,  considering  the  heavy
burdens lying and still to be laid on the country, there should
by-and-by remain in the  mind of the bulk of the  community
an  unpleasant  feeling,  which may have an  effect  on his
memory, and associate with it an impression of a very un-
desirable  kind.  There  are  many who now join  in the
general  cry, who will not  hereafter be very tender of his
credit.
  You are near the Mores, if you see them  give my kind
remembrances, and do me the favour to  say I would write,
but that  I am up to the chin in  business.  May God bless
and  support  your heart, my dear  Lady W. and cheer you
under every trial;  giving you in proportion to your temporal
trials, a more than compensating  taste of that peace which
passeth all understanding, and that 'joy with which a stranger
intermeddles not,' the  peace and joy  in believing through
the power of the Holy Ghost.  O blessed words, ' The rest
that remaineth for the people of God.'
  I  hope Lord W. and  all  your Ladyship's family are well;
always let me know of your and your family's going on, for
a deep interest will always be taken in your happiness by,
                     My dear Lady W.
           Your Ladyship's faithful friend and servant,
                                     W.  Wilberforce.
  I have not time to read over my scrawl." 
276
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1806.
  The death of Mr. Pitt dissolved the existing government,
and the inheritance of his power was divided amongst the
followers of Mr. Fox, Lord Grenville, Mr. Windham, and Lord
Sidmouth.  It was Mr. Wilberforce's general practice to sup-
port the King's government whenever he was able ; and  on
this ground he now disclaimed at once all intentions of sys-
tematic opposition.   He wished too, as far as possible,  to
conciliate their support in the approaching Abolition struggle;
and greatly to the annoyance of many of his friends support-
ed 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 believe, 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 Exchequer  comes  from Cambridge  in a
good state of mind quoad hoc.  Fox a decided friend. Gren-
ville ditto.  Lord Spencer I believe favourable, but not very
strong.  Lord Moira I  doubt;  Sidmouth,  Ellenborough.
Erskine talking  friendly to me, but always absenting  him-
self.   Lord Fitzwilliam I am not quite sure, but I think fa-
vourable.   Windham contra.  But the great point would  be
to get if possible the royal family to give up their opposition.
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 the 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 misunderstand-
ing would ensue,) yet I  think we ought to contrive that the
effect  intended 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^ number of strange impractica-
ble and otherwise uncomeatable fellows by gratifying  them 
1806.
ABOLITION PROSPECTS.
277
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 first measures of
administration.
   The leading members too 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 certainly 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-abolitionists." Notwithstanding
these expressions, he never questioned  the sincerity of Mr.
Fox's attachment to his cause; and he learned afterwards with
pleasure, that " the Prince had given  his honour to Fox, not to
stir adversely."  After many conferences, in the following week,
" with Lord Grenville, Lord Sidmouth, Fox, Lord Henry
Petty,  Stephen,"  he determined  that a  Bill for the  prohibi-
tion of the Foreign Slave Trade  (which would  fix the ad-
vantages gained in the last year) should precede  his general
measure.   This naturally followed Mr. Pitt's Order in Coun-
cil ; 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  intrust  this  measure in
the Commons to one of the law officers of the Crown ; and
Lord Grenville  agreed to introduce  it 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 occa-
sion  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 re-
joiced in this success.  " Sunday 18th. We have carried the
Foreign Slave Bill, and we 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 worldly business,  having  my conversation in
heaven."
                            24 
278
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1806.
  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 proposing the general
question  this year;  when it was  almost 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  resolution  for Abolition both  in  Commons  and
Lords.  How wonderful are the ways of God, and how are
we  taught 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 hos-
tile  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, 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 expediency" proceed
to abolish it.  " We carried our  resolutions 100 and odd to
14,  and  my address without a division.  If it please God to
spare the health, of Fox, and to keep  him and Grenville to-
gether, 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 govern-
ment were most injurious to his mercantile constituents.  A
projected tax on unwrought iron, was that which the manu-
facturers  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 commercial
matters, and still  more his  conduct in the woollen trade in-
quiry, were highly valued in his county, and produced no 
1806.
DEATH OF MR. FOX.
279
small effect in the elections which so unexpectedly followed.
The woollen trade inquiry involved "a very fatiguing parlia-
mentary attendance."  The committee "had sat above five
weeks," upon 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 attend-
ing it."
  After a long examination of witnesses, the Committee met
to agree on their Report, " after wasting two or three morn-
ings 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 Broom-
field 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
attending a committee, and not home till late in the evening.
On Thursday and Friday he was "in town all day, and both
nights at the House  on Windham's Training Bill.  Sunday
drilling  discussed."   This evil  custom he successfully  re-
sisted.
   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 Com-
mons  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 after-
wards 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 complimented 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 manu-
facturer from all needless and harassing restrictions.
   But the state of  Mr.  Fox's health soon  occupied all his
attention.  June 27th.   " William Smith with us after  the
 House,  and talking of  poor Fox constrainedly; when at 
280
LIFE OF WILEERFORCE.
1806.
last, overcome  by .his  feelings, he burst  out  with a real
divulging of his danger—dropsy.  Poor fellow, how melan-
choly his case !  he has not one religious friend,  or one who
knows any thing about it.   How wonderful God's provi-
dence !  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 situa-
tion.  In great danger apparently.  Oh  that I might be the
instrument of bringing 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 " 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 gene-
ral 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 Abolition 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.  Nothing 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 affection-
ately yours."
   But he knew that the struggle was not yet over, and until
it Was, he would not rest.  " 1 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 Committee,  which  had re-
assembled in 1804,  after an interval 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 quar-
ters for providing the evidence 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 
1806.
SLAVE TRADE PAMPHLET.
281
into the snug and retired harbour of Lyme, for the purpose
of careening and refitting."  He had long designed writing
an Address upon the Slave Trade, and he now set resolute-
ly 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."   " Esteeming  it  also as
one of the greatest honours of my life . . the greatest politi-
cal 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 to-
wards 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."  " Sadly  unsettled by the  news."  No  time
was to be lost.   Upon  the 21st he was on his way to York-
shire.   At "Blandford  saw Fawkes's  advertisement in the
Courier, and first knew of opposition. Travelled on through
Salisbury.   Landlord asked 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  his 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;  quit-
ting 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."
                          24* 
282
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1807.
  He had expected much from the critical appearance of this
book; and he was not disappointed.  '• Its beneficial 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. Hayley, " 1 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 address from
the  violent party spirit  which  generally marks the  cha-
racter of such  documents!  " It is often rather in the  way
of a gradual  decline," he says, "than of violent 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 re-
ceive of the defeats or victories of Buonaparte.   But he  who
has looked with any care into the  page of history, will ac-
knowledge that when nations are prepared for their fall, hu-
man instruments will not  be wanting to effect it:  and lest
man,  vain man, so apt  to overrate  the powers and achieve-
ments of human agents, should  ascribe the subjugation of
the  Romans, to the consummate policy and powers of a Ju-
lius Caesar, their slavery shall  be completed  by the unwar-
like Augustus, and shall remain entire under the hateful ty-
ranny 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 natural  con-
sequences, 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, oppression, and  cruelty,
obstinately maintained  in spite of the fullest  knowledge and
the  loudest warnings., must infallibly bring  down upon us the
heaviest judgments of  the Almighty.  We may ascribe our
fall  to weak councils or unskilful generals; to a factjous and
over-burdened people ;  to  storms which waste our fleets ; to 
1807.        ABOLITION BILL IN THE COMMONS.          283

diseases which  thin  our armies ; to mutiny among our sol-
diers and sailors, which may even  turn against us our own
force;  to the diminution of our revenues, and the excessive
increase 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 accom-
plishment of its own purposes."
   As soon as his book was out he was again engaged in
action.  The approaching debate called  for every exertion.
"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 with-
drew their opposition, and the Dukes of Clarence and of Sus-
sex  declared openly  against the Bill, speaking, as it was  un-
derstood, the sentiments of all the reigning family.   Yet the
ice of prejudice was  rapidly dissolving ; and when he visited
Lord Grenville on the morning of the debate,  "he went over
the list of peers, and was sanguine, counting on above seven-
ty 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. " I receive congratulations from all, as if all done.
Yet I cannot be sure.  May it please God to give us suc-
cess."  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 ob-
ject of my  life, to which a gracious Providence directed my
thoughts twenty-six or twenty-seven  years ago, and led my
 endeavours  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 gratitude 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 morning.
  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
  ud  to speak at  once, young noblemen, &c, and asserting
  hio-h principles of rectitude. Lord  Milton very well. Fawkes 
284
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1807.
    finish, but too much studied,  and cut and dried.  Solicitor-
    General excellent;  and at length contrasted my feelings, re-
    turning 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
    members 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 Emperor
    of the French in  all his greatness with those of that  honour-
    ed individual, who  would this day lay his head upon his pil-
    low and remember that the Slave Trade was no more; the
    whole House, surprised  into  a forgetfulness of its ordinary
    habits,  burst forth into acclamations of applause.   They had
    seen the  unwearied  assiduity with which, during  twenty
    years, he had vainly exhausted all the expedients of wisdom ;
    and when they saw him entering with a prosperous gale the
    port whither 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 ! And if so, was not this an un-
    precedented effusion of approbation !"  " To the questions
    you ask me," he replies,  " I can  only say that I was myself
    so completely 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, ex-
    cept from one West Indian planter, who gave him an oppor-
    tunity of  replying in  a speech " 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, Sharpe,  Macaulay, Grant
    and Robert Grant, Robert Bird and William Smith, who in
    the gallery." It was a triumphant meeting.  " Well, Henry,"
    Mr.  Wilberforce  asked playfully  of Mr.  Thornton,  " what

                         *  Ann.  Register. 
1807.             PROGRESS OF THE BILL.              285

shall we abolish next!"  " The lottery, I think," gravely re-
plied his sterner friend.  " Let  us  make out  the names of
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 He-
ber's first  introduction to Mr. Wilberforce.  Heber had  en-
tered 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 witnessing this night  the Christian hero in  his
triumph after the toil of years, may have been one step to-
wards his gaining afterwards the martyr crown at Trichino-
poly.
  The next day was  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 Abolition 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 ministers designed to
give to the Roman Catholic College at Maynooth.  Popery,
he  was convinced,  was the true bane  of Ireland, and he
deemed it nothing less than infatuation 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 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 attachment to the cause was above all sus- 
286
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1807.
  picion, " 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 " travelled about all the morning between Speaker,
  Leigh, and Lord Grenville; parliamentary office, and Whit-
  tarn'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 ministry.
    And now his labours  were indeed completed. Congratu-
  lations poured in upon him from every quarter.  " To speak,"
  wrote Sir James Mackintosh from the other Indies, " 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 fruitfulness 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 conferring,) may not be the encouraging  example
  that the exertions of virtue may be crowned by such  splendid
  success! WTe 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 ani-
 mated  by Mr. Wilberfo.ce's example,  by his success, and
 (let  me use the word only in the moral  sense of preserving
 nis example) by a renown that can only perish with  the
 world, to  attack all the forms of corruption and  cruelty that
 scourge mankind.   Oh 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 '"                               s

tndFe°rtnhi,n e',f' a,,Tse'fish trhimPh wa, lost in unfeigned grati-
S»nbf i         I  haVe indeed Expressible reasons  for
thankfulness  on  the glorious result of that  struggle which,
SnedS° ™anyumment fd,ow-'abourers, 1 have so Jong main-
tained.   I  really cannot account for the  fervour which hap- 
1807.            HIS FEELINGS IN SUCCESS.             287

pily has taken  the place of that  fastidious,  well-bred luke-
warmness 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' labour, is suc-
cessful !"
  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 with the King.
   He was 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 who  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 " politics are  a most unthank-
 ful business."  " The debt of gratitude," he told his consti-
 tuents, "which is  due to the late ministry from myself, I
 shall ever be  ready to  acknowledge, and  by  all  legitimate
 methods to  repay; but I  have no right to recompense  their
 services  by my  parliamentary support.  That is not mine
 to give or withhold 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, Lord Grenville, Howick, and Henry
 Petty have acted most zealous!)  ind honourably  in the  busi-
 ness 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
 efforts   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 interest and well-
  bein" of our Protestant empire."
    On this  around  he had boldly  resisted the  ministerial
  grant for enTarging the college  of Maynooth, even when the 
 288               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1807.

 tardy success of twenty years of labour seemed  to be en-
 dangered 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  laborious
 session he " was astonished  by a  letter from Perceval an-
 nouncing a dissolution."  This was most unwelcome intelli-
 gence. 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 collision.  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  view with no great dissatisfaction, a result
 which would share again between their families the repre-
 sentation of the county.  Whatever was its issue, the con-
 test must be  ruinous to any man of ordinary fortune. "Lord
 Harewood" was " ready  to spend in it his whole Barbadoes
 property," and Wentworth House was not Jess threatening
 in its preparations.   Mr. Wilberforce's fortune would stand
 no such demands ;  " and the  plan  of a subscription," 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 importance 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 !"  Upon  the 29th he  entered 
1807.
CONTEST FOR YORKSHIRE.
289
Yorkshire, and was immediately engaged  in the full bustle
of the contest.
  A meeting of his friends had been held on the preceding
day at York;  but whilst "Mr. Lascelles and Lord Milton
had already engaged canvassing agents, houses of entertain-
ment, and every species of conveyance 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
canvassing  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 not dislike
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 experiencing the never-failing mercies of Hea-
ven."  " I have often  told you," he writes from Mr. Hey's
to Mrs. Wilberforce, " 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  approaching
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 endeavouring to  make a seat in
the House of Commons  subservient to the  repair of a dilapi-
dated fortune."*  He claimed therefore the promises of sup-
port  which had been liberally made, and called  upon  the
county to assert its independence.  Those  who  were pre-
sent on that day, can still remember the effect  produced  by

                     * Annual Register.
                           25 
290
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1807.
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 per-
mitted to put down  his name to the subscriptions opened to
support his election.
   The next day he set off to spend the few days which pre-
ceded the election  in  a canvass of the East Riding.  On
reaching  Hull he was met  by a great  body of freeholders at
the hall  at  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 ob-
jects, and the still greater alteration  which had taken place
in themselves—he   addressed the people  with  the most
thrilling effect."
  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 considerable 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 particu-
larly about the words • 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, (Wednesday,
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.  Appearances 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 professional 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 
1807.
LETTER TO MRS. WILBERFORCE.
291
which he trusted.  " No carriages are to be procured," says
a letter from Hull, " but boats are proceeding up the river
heavily laden with voters :  farmers lend their wagons ;  even
donkeys  have the honour of carrying voters for Wilberforce,
and  hundreds 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, " 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 thankful for the weather," (the prece-
ding days had been rainy and boisterous,) " and indeed 1 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 building probably in the world.  The city
is full of freeholders, who came in such numbers as to cover
the whole area of the place (a very large one) where the ser-
vice is performed,  and  every seat and pew were filled.  I was
exactly reminded of the great Jewish Passover in the Tem-
•ple, in the reign of Josiah".  It  is gratifying  to say that there
was the  utmost  decency, and not the smallest noise or inde-
corum ;  no cockades or distinctive marks.   Indeed,  I must
say, the  town is wonderfully quiet, considering  it is an elec-
tion  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 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 shrubbery
with you and the  little ones ;  and indeed I have joined you
in spirit several times to-day, and have hoped we were ap- 
292
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1807.
plying together at the throne of grace.   How merciful and
gracious God is to me! Surely the universal 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 declaration, that goodness and mercy have fol-
lowed 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 doctrine of God my Saviour, and do honour to my Chris-
tian 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 ma-
naging 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 misre-
presented ; 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,  and let them read it, since they will not
hear you.'  ' They read indeed,' cried Wilberforce; ' what, do
you suppose that men who make such a noise as those fel-
lows can read!' 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 mat-
ter.' 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—ad-
dressed 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 pri-
vate communication with him every day. I usually put myself 
1807.
FINAL MAJORITY.
293
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 repeating 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  parties
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  county 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  roads in every direction
to and from  every remote  corner of the county have been
covered with vehicles loaded with voters ; barouches, curri-
cles,  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 de-
frayed was not less remarkable than the fact of his success.
When it  had lasted little more than a week, £64,455 had
been subscribed ; and much of it from places  with  which  he
had neither political nor personal connexion.  Contributions
poured in  unasked from London, Edinburgh, Birmingham,
Colchester, Leicester, and  many other towns.   "  My exer-
tions," 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
elections  in this place I never interfere;  but yours was an
excepted case;  and from  your parliamentary conduct  you
                           25* 
294
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1807.
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  wishes, but  with their
purses and their hearts opened.  For a  long series of years
they have witnessed the parliamentary career of our invalu-
able friend—his manly eloquence,  his astonishing activity, his
undaunted perseverance, his unexampled disinterestedness—
and shall Yorkshiremen maintain  a cold  indifference towards
him !" The answer of his own county to this appeal was one
gratifying feature in his triumph.   So great were the num-
bers who  insisted  upon coming  at their own 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 con-
sisted of two sums of £10,500; one provisional, which was
returned entire; and 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 attach-
ment  and esteem."
  Some of these instances  are  worth  recording.   A free-
holder presented himself to vote, whose appearance  seemed
to imply that the cost of his journey  must be  an inconvenient
burden to him.   The committee  therefore proposed  to him
that they should defray his expenses.   This he instantly de-
clined.  When  however it appeared  that he  was a clergy-
man of  very small means, who had travelled (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,
"I will accept your offer, and I request you to add that sum
in my name to the subscription  for  Mr. Wilberforce's  ex-
penses."
  " How did you come  up!"  they asked an  honest country-
man 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 all'd-way ahint
Lord  Milton's carriage."
  "Perhaps it may be thought," says Mr. Wilberforce in the 
1807.             PRIVATE REFLECTIONS.              295

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 decorations 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 car-
ried too far;  yet when it  is recollected 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 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, infirmi-
ties, and  negligences in  relation 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  better  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 in-
expressibly  valuable are  the promises of Holy  Scripture ! 
296
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1807.
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 ine, 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 salvation
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 good-
ness 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 infinite love of the Redeemer,  and shall
make up the chorus of that heavenly song,  ' Worthy is the
Lamb that was slain, to receive honour, and glory, and bless-
ing,' &c.  Oh may  1 bear a part in that bright  and glad as-
semblage !  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  abun-
dantly  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 good-
ness, 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 fore-knowledge
of this our  base ingratitude  and  stupid perverseness, that
Thou didst perform these miracles of mercy.  That  Thou
knewest me, and my hardness, and coldness, and unworthy
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 well may we
exclaim, ' Thy ways are not as our ways, nor  Thy thoughts 
1807.
JOURNAL.
297
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 1 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 habitually to walk by faith and to have my con-
versation in  heaven."  " O  Lord, direct me to some new
line of usefulness, for Thy glory, and  the good of my fellow-
creatures.  I have been thinking of lessening the number
of oaths  "
  The new parliament  met upon the 22d of June, and con-
tinued  till the second week in August.
  In the  middle of December he had a sudden attack of dan-
gerous 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 we remind-
ed of our continual dependence upon God !   23d.  Better, I
thank God, but still in a ticklish state. 25th. Surprisingly re-
covered,  I thank God."   This amendment continued without
any check ;  and upon the first day of the new year, he ac-
knowledges  " 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 
 298                LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1808.

 more practical sense of the shortness and uncertainty of all
 human things; and oh bring my soul, more effectually than
 ever hitherto, 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 supremely
 set on it.   O Lord, I know too well my own 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 main-spring 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 overflowing  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 possibly you may not
have heard how active and earnest  ' the enemy'  has  been 
1808.
EAST INDIAN AFFAIR3.
299
(in writing to you I may call things by their true names) in
stirring up opposition to any endeavours for diffusing Chris-
tian instruction throughout our East Indian empire.   A mo-
tion has been made in the Court of Directors by one of the
most  able, experienced, wealthy, and well-connected mem-
bers 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 transla-
tion 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 Teign-
mouth and others, and happily the first attempt was defeated
by a considerable majority ; and  we hope that, though  it is
dreadful to think what  is the general 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 ac-
counts, 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  dark-
 ened 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,
                                     W.  Wilberforce."

   He now resumed  his attendance at the " House almost
 every night," where  he complains of the "debates" as " poor
 compared  with  former times; yet  Perceval  improved, and
 Canning extremely clever."
   He was now again in the full stream of business.    Much
 worried, many committees.   East Indian-lottery-woollen
 committees.  Friends  at  dinner before  House.   Le  ters
 »llth   To town,  Proclamation Society  about  Smithneld
 rmrket   14th.  Heard  that  Danish Davis's Strait* settlers
 had not been attended to, and talked with  Pole and Gambler

   * Thev consisted principally of Greenlar.ders under the charge of the Mo-
 raviaJI brethren, ancf depended for sustenance on supplies from Europe. 
300
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1808.
 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
 succeeded in procuring the despatch of vessels on this work
 of mercy.  Upon the 5th of May the " House" was " again
 on  Maynooth business, and very hot and violent even to bit-
 terness.   I spoke—I hope not violently,  but, alas!  much
 bitterness in  many.  I reproached for  Methodism.  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 (priests') eyes."
  "May 28th. Catholic Question. Grattan's speech excellent
 and temperate.  I spoke, and though abstaining from all re-
 flections on popery, and arguing the question on grounds of
 time and  circumstances,  I wTas extremely  abused."  " We
 have had a very long and most unpleasant debate," he writes
 the next day.  " It is grievous to see that we are only nomi-
 nally a Protestant people."  " Alas, they are driving the Ro-
 man Catholics to rebellion.  How mad  to be thus stimulating
 them, by telling them they are enslaved and oppressed !  It
 is irreligion 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 "the most se-
 vere" he " ever knew;" so  that  though "the  country was
 exquisitely beautiful  in the first  burst of spring,  or  rather
 summer," he " never got to Broomfield, 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  supporter, both  in and out of  parlia-
ment, 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 perse-
vere, but we must please God, and assert  His cause."
" Shattered from a bad night, from being uneasy at not  hav-
ing reprobated  M. A. Taylor's shameless declaration,  ' that
interest alone to  be our guide, not right  or justice.'   The
House  only laughed, and  he  mistook it.   I was over-per-
suaded, but I deeply repented, and stiJl am sorry." 
 1808.              SPANISH PATRIOTS.                30l

   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 country 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 disgracefully 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 ob-
jects  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  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 confir-
 mation of Cowper's beautiful  line, 'How fleet is a glance of
the mind!' in a moment I can fly on the wings of imagina-
tion, from the shore of the Channel to Julius Caesar's old cas-
tle 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.
  " 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 hereditary 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 insult 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
                           26 
302
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1808.
Spanish arms from its apparent bearing on the cause of Abo-
lition.  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 situation,
but  doubtless they are precisely  in the circumstances in
which, if it please God they succeed, (and may the Almighty
favour them,)  that  generous temper of  mind will be pro-
duced, which will  abhor oppression  and  cruelty, conse-
quently will abolish the Slave Trade.   And surely we ought
to be immediately taking  all proper preparatory measures
for diffusing information  on the  subject.  Such  prospects
open to my view when I look around on  both  sides of the
Atlantic,  as  quite  to enrapture me.  To the fertile soil of
your mind let me commit the seed of this idea, and let me
earnestly conjure 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,
perhaps,  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, de-
siring him to mention the  subject to the Spanish 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 know-
ledge of Portugal people, &c. render him capable of being a
useful ally.  Farewell.
                      I am ever yours,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  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 occupation, and I must
contrive some means of lessening the time spent  on them ;
for there  is no acquisition of knowledge,  no exercise or im-
provement of talents."  Yet he was as far as possible from
cultivating an idle and unmeaning correspondence. In truth,
like his open house, and broken London mornings, it sprung
of necessity from his peculiar situation.  Without his letters 
1808.
SCHOOLS IN CEYLON.
303
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-General of
the unprotected and the friendless.
  With " inconceivable sorrow" he heard just at this time
"of all the schoolmasters being dismissed in Ceylon.  We
are to save only about £1500 by what is the moral and re-
ligious ruin of the  island.   O Lord, how deeply do  we pro-
voke Thy resentment! Yet have mercy on us, and spare us,
much as we deserve punishment. I  have  had some inter-
course with Lord Castlereagh about it."  Happily he did not
remonstrate fruitlessly ; some of the old schools were re-
stored, and the place of others supplied  by new institutions.
  East-Bourne was his head quarters until the 19th of No-
vember,  when he took  possession of  a  new  house  at Ken-
sington 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 thein 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 settJing
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, in-
deed, as he sat for Yorkshire, and actively " represented  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 hospi-
tality in  which he delighted.  There  are still many who re- 
304
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1808.
 member with no little interest, the cheerful and enlightened
 intercourse  of the house and grounds of Kensington Gore.
 The house 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.
 " I always find that I have most time for business, and it is
 best done, when I  have most properly observed my private
 devotions."  " In the calmness of the morning," was his
 common observation, " before the mind is heated and wea-
 ried  by the turmoil of the day, you have a season of unusual
 importance  for communing  with  God and  with  yourself."
 After  this secret  intercourse with  his  heavenly  Father,
 which  cheered  and sustained his laborious  pilgrimage,  he
 joined  his  assembled household for morning prayer—a ser-
 vice  which he conducted  himself, and^with peculiar interest.
 WTith breakfast, which was thus made somewhat late,  began
 his first throng of visiters.  His ante-room, which still justi-
 fied abundantly the witty simile of Hannah More, furnished
 many breakfast 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  " starched
 little fellow whom" he " was not anxious to disgust, Andrew
 Fuller  was  announced—a man  of considerable  powers of
 mind, but  who bore about him very plainly the vestigia ru-
 ris.  Not a moment was to be lost.   So before he came in I
 said  to my little friend,' You know Andrew Fuller!'  ' No. I
 never heard  his name.'  ' Oh then you must  know him ;  he
 is an extraordinary man, whose talents have raised him from
 a very low situation.'  This prepared the way, and Andrew
 Fuller did  no harm, although he walked in looking the very
 picture of a blacksmith."
  His household economy abounded in cheerful hospitality,
 and in  the highest charms of conversation and social inter-
 course: but there was nothing costly or luxurious  in his
 style of living; these were banished on principle, and none
 of his guests missed them.  " You can do what you please,"
 said  a friend, who was celebrated for the excellence  of his
table ;  " people go to you to  hear  you talk,  not for a good
 dinner."   " I am almost  ashamed," was the thankful simpli-
 city of his  own remark when first entering Kensington Gore,
 " of the handsomeness of my house, my veranda, &c."  " I
 am almost uneasy about my  house and furniture, lest  I am 
1808.
SUNDAY TRAVELLING.
305
spending too much money upon it, so as to curtail my cha-
rities."   The very next entry is a good commentary on this
characteristic fear.  " E. forced his way in to see me—the
poor midshipman who  about eight months ago wrote to me
from Morpeth gaol, 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 yesterday 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.   " Parlia-
ment," was the reply,  " will not meet unless something un-
foreseen 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 pub-
lic 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, be-
cause, upon the receipt of your note, it brought back to my
recollection (what I had till then forgot) some observations
which the Speaker made  to me some time ago upon the same
subject; if they had been present to my mind when we set-
tled  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.

                            " Downing Street, Dec. 10, 1808.
" Dear Wilberforce,
  You will be glad to hear that  it is determined to postpone
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, " put  off nobly  by Per-
ceval, because of the Sunday travelling it would have occa-
sioned."
                         26* 
306
life of wilberforce.
1809.
  The leisure of the Christmas holidays left him time to look
at Ccelebs,  which 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.   " Ccelebs," says
his  Diary, " 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.  " Reading Ccelebs in the afternoon, and
much pleased with it; it is  Hannah More's all over."

                             "Kensington Gore, Jan. 7, 1809.
" My dear Friend,
  ' What! did I not know thy  old ward, Hal!' I had not read
ten pages before I was reminded of aut Erasmus, &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 Lon-
don,  and have to prepare  for a large party to dinner, pre-
ceded by  a consultation on a  matter of great importance to
a friend."

  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 explained al-
ready;  and giving others  credit  for that pure spirit with
which he was animated, he  saw in its anniversary 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 compelled to take an  active part.
" I want more time for reflection, and consideration of poli-
tical 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  ascendency like Pitt  or Fox.  It would 
1809.
SUMMER RETREAT.
307
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 be-
fore Parliament.  At one time provoking the ill-will of the
King and  royal family  by opposing the wishes of the Duke
of York, and  at another thwarting the views of ministry
with the entire fearlessness of honest independence. Wish-
ing to spend the summer of 1809 in quietness, the offer of a
quiet parsonage near Cowper's  haunts fell in exactly with
all  his  inclinations.  "I always observe," 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 Chatham, 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 sumptuous, 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 not  be happy out of London, " to
have a  taste for simple and  virtuous pleasures!   Religion
gives  this, but some have it naturally."  He  possessed  it
strongly, and enjoyed, therefore, exceedingly  this "Cowper-
izing 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  Cary, and  the  inventive
genius and  geographical knowledge of the young  ones are
set  to work; but I  defy you all.  The truth is, I had  been 
308
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1809.
 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 I should have
 been  glad to continue till November, but 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 parliament.  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 pressings 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 I 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 neigh-
 bourhood, has kindly lent  me his own.  It is the parsonage,
 and he occupies the house of the curate, who is now serving
 another church, and whom I provide with a temporary resi-
 dence.
  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 removed, 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 peaceful  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 already, (but the day was bad,  and I mean to do
it again,) carried some cold  meat to a venerable old  oak, to 
1809.
COUNTRY LIFE.
309
 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 introduce
 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 dis-
 tance, I  should have much both to say and to hear, but un-
 less I had more time at command I feel no comfort in begin-
 ning 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  common  plainness.  This consideration
 administers the greatest 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.  Wilberforce."

   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 tho-
 roughly  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,  ' I 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 interior of a well-ordered parish.
 He attended with  delight at a cottage reading, amongst many
 of " the  people 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 preach-
ing."   "  Of Olney I hear but a very melancholy account.  It
is  indeed an awful instance of mercies slighted and privi- 
310
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1809.
leges 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 unpro-
ductive 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 fol-
lowed 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 har-
mony is so happily expressed, that though it has appeared 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 pro-
mised 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 has immortalized.  On another day we visited Stowe—
• a work to wonder at,' for we were still in the land of poetry
and of music too', for Mr. Wilberforce made the shades re-
sound  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."
   Yet this wras 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 ac-
count.  " 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 se-
cure time  for evening devotions, emptying" his  " mind  of
business  and  literature ;" examining himself whether  his
" mind  had wandered whilst reading the responses or the
psalms in church, or during the singing of praises to God;" 
1809.
JOURNAL.
311
and reminding himself, " that if here I find not my mind
ungovernable, yet that this is a most favourable situation :
all about me favourable 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
maintain 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 retirement
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 him-
self—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 worldhness,  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 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
gratification!"  Then too would he  note down the remem-
bered 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 promise 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 I have felt this day, and still feel, some-
what of the powers of the world to come.   I feel indeed the 
312
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1809.
 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  praeclarum 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  confirmation
 of Buonaparte's madness  ; for I cannot but think it confor-
 mable 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 Castlereagh and Canning fought a duel
 early on Thursday morning. What a humiliating thing it is !
 In what a spirit must  our national counsellors have been de-
 liberating !"
   A letter to Mr. Bankes,  written on the second of October,
 turns upon these subjects.
   " Then this strange hurricane  of the elements of the  ad-
 ministration.  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 chal-
 lenger it is nine parts in ten most probably 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 quiet 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 before by  his
 speech about not exciting  a spirit against America.  " My
time," he tells Mr. Bankes, " was never  more fully occupied
 when parliament w7as  not  sitting; foreseeing that when the
House should meet, I must almost  renounce all  private  so-
ciety, I have been both giving and receiving a most unusual
number of visits."  These brought before him a most mis- 
1809.
CONDUCT IN SOCIETY.
313
 cellaneous set  of characters—from  " Lord Sidmouth,  who
 dined  tete-a-tete, and much political talk  with him," to " a
 missionary going  to the Namaqua country," and " poor W.
 who declared most seriously that he liked spiders better than
 my dinner.   ' Spiders are very good  food ;'  and  looking
 round  the corners of the room, 'You have  no  spiders here,'
 as much as to say, I would soon convince you if you had—
 a singular man—appears a strong predestinarian."
   Here though mixing  more freely in society, he  did  not
 forget to watch carefully for the improvement of his time.
   His  bigh  sense  of the  value  of it led him  to watch
 over his  conduct fin  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 desire 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 conversa-
 tion, and  practise the company regulations which  I have
 made.   Lord, quicken me."  " I have a vast multiplicity of
 objects  soliciting my attention. . . and I seem to myself to be
 failing 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 unprofitably to  my-
 self  and others, but that I really may be of  use in my gene-
 ration, 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 sub-
jects which came before it.  Much attached as he was to Mr.
Perceval, he voted against him in all the stages  of the inqui-
ry 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
                          27 
314
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1810.
the " Slave Trade," " Indian affairs,"  and many objects of
charity and public usefulness received  his support.
  From these various employments he was suddenly removed
by an accident, which he describes in a letter to Lord Mun-
caster.

                                    "London, June 18, 1810.
" My dear Muncaster,
  The  kindness  which I have  ever  experienced at  your
hands assures  me, that if you were to hear a loose report
of my having been confined up-stairs for a week in a recum-
bent 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 lesson the  marvel,
and render the tale less laughable, to hear that my son Wil-
liam was the main personage in the  dramatis personae of the
cricket-players, and I have not played  with him at cricket
before, for I know not how long.   But  here, as  in so many
other instances, 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 two  higher,  and it is very uncom-
mon 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 disap-
pointment, to me; but I hope it  is  the indication  of Provi-
dence that I am to be quiet."   But on  the 20th, " having the
Sheffield Address, loyal and constitutional, 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 admonition, but there not being above
forty or fifty members, and  as the appearance would evi-
dently have  been  that of going  cold-bloodedly to make a
formal speech,  I had  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 
1810.
THE GARDEN.
315
been led a month before to vote for Mr. Brand's motion on
Pariiamentary 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  prophetic of that
storm of political excitement, in the midst of which the Re-
form Bill was at length carried through.  How full may be
their accomplishment, our  children will best know.
   The garden  at  Kensington Gore was  one of his  great
sources  of pleasure, when his  time was at his own com-
mand.  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 now writing.   I
should like much  to stay  in  this sweet place,  amidst my
books, if I could be quiet."   " We are just one  mile," he
tells  an American correspondent, " from  the  turnpike-gate
at Hyde  Park Corner, which I think you will  not  have for-
gotten 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 I  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 fa-
vourably circumstanced.   " My  situation near  town  pro-
duces 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.  He moved first to Bar-
ham Court.
   In a letter to Lord Muncaster,  he says, " During my con-
finement from my accident, my being such a fair shot for all
who had not  much to do with their time, procured  me inces-
sant callers, and my unanswered letters accumulated on my
hands to a size that was quite terrific.  I have only just (in- 
316
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1810.
 deed not  quite) cleared away the arrears.   Have  you read
 the Lady  of the Lake!  Like a good economist I waited till
 it should come out in octavo, but I had but tasted it before,
 though it  had  been folio instead of quarto, I could not  with-
 out  extreme  difficulty have resisted  the impulse to gratify
 my appetite for it without stint.  Really I did not think that
 I continued in such a degree subject to the fascination of poe-
 try.   I have  been absolutely bewitched.   I could  not  keep
 the  imaginary personages  out of my  mind  when  I  most
 wished to remove them. How wonderful  is this dominion
 over  the  heart which genius exercises!   There are some
 parts of the poem  that are quite inimitable—all that precedes
 and follows'And,  Saxon, I am Roderick Dhu.'  I regret  there
 not  being so  much of moral as in Marmion.  I must break
 off—farewell."
   Early in September he took possession of an empty coun-
 try-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 Kensing-
 ton 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 almost three months. This occasional abstrac-
tion from the bustle and turmoil of the world, is highly bene-
 ficial to mind, body, and estate; and I have had an opportu-
 nity  of becoming acquainted with my own children,  who, it
 really is not exaggeration to declare,  seldom get a quiet mi-
nute with  me during the sitting of parliament."
  As he had not married until middle life, when he was  most
 busily engaged in  his engrossing duties, this was JiteraJJy
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 when one of them be- 
1810.         INTERCOURSE WITH HIS CHILDREN.          317

ginning to cry as he took Iiim up, the nurse said naturally
by way of explanation, " He always is afraid of strangers."
This he could not suffer to continue when they grew 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 week;  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
favourite Cowper.   Then they walked with him  in the gar-
den, and each had the valued privilege of bringing him a Sun-
day nosegay, for which the flowers 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 conversa-
tion.  " ' 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  for  the 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 into 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 ex-
cursions, and joined often in their amusements.   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 was the Arabian Nights,)  and selecting
one of them  to  read  more serious  works to  him while he
dressed.   Happy was the young performer who was 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 immediate
return, and so afforded opportunities for gratifying 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,  show how observant was
                         27* 
318                LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1810.

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 Edgeworth's Tales.   How entirely free
from  religion  is her morality, 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 cheer-
ful  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 dissemble 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 be-
fore.   He behaved very ill.  I talked with him plainly, and
set  him a  punishment.  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  hum-
bly 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 illustrated by
a paper of directions which he drew up about this time for the
private use of two of his sons, who were now at school to-
gether.

              BROTHERLY  LOVE AND CONDUCT.

" Hints for  my dear----, to be often read over, with self-
                      examination.

" 1. Endeavour  to bear in mind,  that you  will  be  often
  tempted to behave to your brother----not so well as you 
1810.
RULES FOR HIS CHILDREN.
319
   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 bro-
   ther, and try to keep them in your memory by now and
   then thinking them  over;  and when such  occasions are
   about to occur, whether at play, in reading, 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 thanksgiving.
 " 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 un-
   kindly ----'s disposition to command  you. If Christ tells
   us not to resent little outrages from any one, (see Matt. v.
   39, 44,) how much less  should you resent  his command-
   ing you ! Though perhaps it may  be not quite right in it-
   self, 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 fa-
   ther 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. Wilberforce." 
320
life of wilberforce.
1810.
              BROTHERLY 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 bro-
  ther, and keep them in your memory by now and then
  thinking them over; and when such occasions 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 bet-
  ter 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.  Recollect 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 behaving im-
  properly.—When you have  done your  own business, or
  are not inclined to  do it, beware of interrupting him in do-
  ing 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 
1810.
RULES FOR HIS CHILDREN.
321
   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 pro- '
 fit from the above suggestions of his most affectionate father,
                                    W. Wilberforce."

   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 con-
 ducted, he always looked at  with  suspicion.  "William Al-
 len,"  he  says shortly afterwards, "and Joseph Fox  came
 about Lancaster's schools, to tell me all about them, and
 press me to be a vice-president. Heard Fox's most interest-
 ing account."  For  a fortnight he was doubtful how to an-
 swer 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 relapses.  Perceval said on Thurs-
 day, that as well then as when Thurlow declared him well, and
 sealed the commission 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
 examination 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 Christ-
mas ;  yet  he was fully occupied.
  Devoted as he was all through his life with so much patient
 perseverance to the deliverance of the negro race, his zeal
for that great cause never led  him to neglect any opportunity
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 surrounded 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 contraction of thought and feeling 
322
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1810.
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 general 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
NowelJ, unlawfully recruited ;"  and finding that  Lord Pal-
merston had not yet  read the minutes of the second exami-
nation, which  decisive," he went on " to the Colonial Office
about  the  case of Marsden  and a  poor woman,"  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 multitude of works  of mercy in which
he was every day engaged.   And  yet he could  say in his
most  private  entries, " Alas! I feel  my  uselessness and
unprofitableness, but I humbly hope I desire to  employ my
faculties so as may be most for  God's glory, and my fellow-
creatures' 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 clothiers
about  poor  No well,  the  boy falsely enlisted.   How 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  business.
The King's illness  was painfully confirmed, and the appoint-
ment of a regency inevitable.   In these circumstances, the
mind  of Mr.  Pitt's friend reverted naturally 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  instance of " Perceval's  sweetness melting
down  Whitbread's rough  churlishness,  and  extorting  a
eulogy for suavity and kindness," " that he is a man of un-
daunted 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." 
1810.
JOURNAL.
323
  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 promi-
nent 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 disturbed
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 de-
sires of occasional feeling; 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 peb-
ble  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  understand  each
other better !  What good done by this visit!  How unpro-
fitable was our intercourse, partly from want of topics ready
 for  conversation !  They would  often  remind  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, feelings, and opinions—very  upright as a mem-
 ber of parliament.  1 tried to introduce some religious con-
 versation, but I knew not well how.  Alas ! I was  too much 
324
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
181L
admiring 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 ser-
vant of the lowly Jesus !   Surely I was intoxicated 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 disposi-
tion to enter into negotiation with England on Abolition En-
forcement 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.

  " 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 pri-
vate bill is very hotly contested; and what is worse, con-
tested  between those who are all my friends ; and what is
worst of all, the case is one in which it is really very difficult to
form a clear judgment. Yet, notwithstanding this difficulty,
you would suppose, from the warmth with which the parti-
sans 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 inces-
santly engrossed, except on the  day which  of course was
claimed by considerations and  feelings peculiar to that sea-
son when we commemorate the event on  which  we depend
for all our hopes of  future happiness.  Alas ! I  am  begin- 
1811.
LICENSING DISSENTING TEACHERS.
325
ning 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 accounts 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 around you is so  beautiful
that you can scarcely persuade 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 con-
cerning 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
accounts from Portugal.  They really gratify me more than
any public news which 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. Wilberforce.
   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 espe-
cially lest, whilst aimed at others, it should cripple the pas-
toral instructions of the clergy. This fear he early expressed
to Mr. Perceval; having,  on the  26th March, " opened  to
him about the North American Indians—the Irish people and
system, actual and proper—the English church—the  clergy,
and the operation  of the Conventicle Act; with 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 Rich-
mond's diligence and its effects."
   »1 was chiefly afraid  lest he should stop the private reli-
gious meetings of the clergy; and I urged the danger of all
                           28 
326
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1811.
who should come under serious impressions, going  off in
that case to the Methodists, and described  the excellence of
their discipline."
  The Methodists rose against it 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 busi-
ness grew one of those irritating rumours  which  infest the
course of the most simple-minded  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 be-
trayed me!  (You see that this  implies the most consummate
villany possible.)  Yet this  is believed  of a man whom some
of them, at least, must know to have  defeated  a similar at-
tack, 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 Matt. vi. 3,)  but I will—as  it
bears on my real feelings 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 undertook her
cause."
  It is strange that such a report should  have gained  credit,
but so it was ; and  he heard of " the  Sidmouthian  declara-
tion 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 w7ell case-hardened, and accustomed
to walk with truth  " through  evil as well as good  repute,"
yet he felt at first " perhaps too much  the personal injustice
done" him, "just as a cut gives a sharper pain, than a heavy
weight  which overbears you."  Yet even then he was  chiefly
" hurt by this story, because  it goes to disparage religion; 
rsii.
WAR WITH AMERICA.
327
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  however to vindicate my-
self by all fair means."
  Many matters of great interest engaged his attention  dur-
ing the remainder  of the session.  In the closing debate on
the 19th of July, he gave utterance to his feelings oh the pro-
bability 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 al-
most 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.  " Let-
ters  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 immethodical, and thereby
lessening my influence."
  Nothing  could be more characteristic than the history of
this  correspondence.   Mr. Roberts,  with  whom he had be-
fore  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 I  used ! If I do my
utmost, yet if I do  not succeed, or  if delays happen, they are
charged on me; yet I  am not clear of the fault of taking
more on me than I can get through, though not intentionally
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  perform-
ing nothing, though all thi3 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.  "A friend  who will
frankly  tell me  of my faults  in  private,"  was a possession 
328
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1811.
 that he valued above  all  price.   "I must spend  what time
 remains," he says two days afterwards in his private Jour-
 nal, "in humiliation and prayer; but let me just put down
 the record of a most striking letter from Mr.  Roberts of Shef-
 field—the most truly  Christian, candid, kind, friendly remon-
 strance I ever remember; especially considering the  erro-
 neous views of my conduct under which he wrote.  I had
 unhappily forgot an appointment 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
 attendance  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 undertaking
 more than I could execute."
   " I should do violence to my own  feelings,"  he tells Mr.
 Roberts, " if I did  not without delay assure you solemnly,
 that I greatly respect  your  frankness  on general  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 de-
 gree by the same  friendly  frankness.  Amongst other ad-
 vantages 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 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 1 owe you, if you will tell me who it is, or what
 the case is on which  he applied to me.  I can solemnly de-
 clare, that for many years I have been particularly 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 answera-
 ble for measures he  cannot control.  I will  strictly observe
 any injunctions  of secrecy  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 memoran- 
 1811.         LETTER TO SAMUEL ROBERTS, ESQ.          329

dum 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  correspondent's  frankness  deserved,  he
thought,  a fuller  explanation 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  entering with the same confidence of friendly
sympathy into my private circumstances and feelings. Frank-
ness 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.

                      " 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 con-
firmed by your last.   I speak the  real  sentiments  of  my
heart, when I assure you 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  un-
speakably valuable to any public man, who wishes, on  the
one hand, to do his  duty, and  who, on  the  other, is suffi-
ciently aware of the difficulty 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 importance and
extent.  Before I  enter on  them, let me  assure 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
                          28* 
330
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1811.
to transact, yet I was but too well convinced that from in-
advertency or forgetfulness, arising from the multiplicity of
my occupations and engagements, I had  occasionally been
justly culpable; (how could I be otherwise than impressed
with the consciousness of this, when engaged in writing to
you, in whose case such a circumstance had arisen!) and I
could not foresee into what extent of apparent criminality I
might not  have been drawn  by the  same  causes.  By in-
forming me, that----and----were  the person  and case
in question, you have therefore, I repeat it, considerably re-
lieved 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  myself as
satisfactorily, even to my own judgment, against the gene-
ral charge, which  you urge so  kindly, and therefore  with
increased force, of a want of order and method in the gene-
ral discharge of my business, and I cannot deny the conse-
quences which you ascribe to these imperfections.   I strive,
and will strive still more earnestly,  against them.   But Jet 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 guilty  to the in-
dictment, 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 secretary, 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 through-
out 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 pre-
vents 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 en-
able me, I believe, to get through on the whole as much bu-
siness during  six  or  seven months as many far  stronger
persons:  the inability to bear great fatigue does,  however, 
1811.
" NOT AT HOME."
331
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 engagements for an
early or even moderate hour  in the ensuing morning, be-
cause 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 member of parliament, it is not merely
the quantity of work which he has on his hands, but the un-
certain hours he  must keep, which prevents his having  the
full command of his time.
  And now in going on  with this explanation, I find myself
embarrassed by  the fear of subjecting myself to the imputa-
tion of vanity and self-sufficiency, if I proceed to state parti-
culars, which it  would yet  be unjust to myself to forbear
mentioning.  But if the  great apostle  of the Gentiles, when
his character was called  in  question, felt that he was justi-
fied 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 particulars which, but for the cir-
cumstance  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 committees,
which from time to time  are appointed for the despatch of
important business, for  conducting delicate and important
inquiries, &c.   Observe,  I do not put myself on these com-
mittees, but bearing in  mind that I  am member for York-
shire, 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 in-
convenience which I sustain from not thinking it  right to al-
low 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 
 332        '     LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1811.

 my scrupulousness here is not on my own account so much
 as on my servants ; it has been a matter of so much import-
 ance to me, as to have made me observe the effect 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.  In-
 deed 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 often 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 extremely difficult, if not im-
 possible, to allot certain hours to certain occupations, in the
 degree which you perhaps suppose.  There is however still
 another consideration  to take into the account, and a consi-
 deration  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 impartial friends, when
facts are brought forward, concessions made, &c., which do
not appear in public debates.   The questions on which we
have to decide are often, believe 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 
1811.
HABITS DURING THE SESSION.
333
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
what you see in the newspapers;  for belonging to no party,
I am naturally, 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 fre-
quently 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 speaking, if it affected my-
self only, would scarcely deserve to  be noticed; but consi-
dered in its general operation, as it tends to aggravate party
violence, to  produce  a disposition  to cultivate the favour of
the reporters,  instances of which I have  seen  in men who
might have  been supposed incapable  of such servility, to de-
stroy in short all independence of principle and characters-
viewed in these  and other  consequences,  the evils arising
from the partial  and unfair  way in which  our debates  are
now reported, and  more especially in which any neutral,
particularly 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 occupations, &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 business is over  for  two or three  hours,  and
 coming down again  after a comfortable dinner;  on the con-
 trary,  I snatch  a hasty meal,  as  I may, before the public
 business begins, in the short interval  sometimes between the
 end of  the  private and the  beginning of the public.  I see
 little or  nothing of my family  during the session of parlia-
 ment, (though, blessed  be God, of a more  tender, excellent
 wife no man  ever  received '  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 
334
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1811.
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  conduct
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 situa-
tion kthe means of benefiting  my  relatives .  . 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  (excluding all
hereditary descent) since I came into parliament, 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 weight 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  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 de-
fects, 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 gratifica* 
1811.
KING'S ILLNESS.
335
tion.   I will also confess my fear lest from the infirmities 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 imperfections 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  preparation 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 and Christian freedom which you have exercised to-
wards me.
  The postman is come.   He  departs hence, most inconve-
niently 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 estimation,—
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 judg-
ment  is formed of us by our fellow-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. Wilberforce."

  The alarming illness of the King called him at this time to
an immediate decision upon a most important question, sug-
gested to him by that consciousness of failing 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 
336
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1811.
 truly say, that if I knew which was 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;  yet  this
 was more perhaps in appearance than in truth.   It  led  him
 indeed to seek their counsel with unusual freedom, and to
 weigh it  with  proportionate anxiety, and thus  sometimes
 gave to a  suspended judgment the appearance 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—Babington strong for absolute retiring—Stephen
 and others for giving up Yorkshire—but Grant and Henry
 Thornton  against my quitting the county."
   This important question was far from occupying all his
 time.  He complains indeed of being robbed of his usual ho-
 liday leisure for literary enjoyment.
   Of more serious work, as he tells Mr. Babington, his hands
 were full; and in no vacation did he  find, " as Dr. Johnson
 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 consciousness of
 the number of people I had to see and things to do."  Here
 he spent a  busy fortnight, pressing forward  by  continued
 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  ex-
quisitely 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!"
  Meanwhile he was full  of business, " several  important
matters having been  stored up to meet  me.   Several mis-
sionary concerns.   With  Lord  Liverpool,  Lord N.  and 
1811.
ALEXANDER KNOX.
337
 others.  Heard with pleasure from  Lord N. that  justice
 would be secured for the Hottentots.   He bore strong testi-
 mony to the effects of the Moravian missions—less to those
 of the Methodists—said Vanderkemp and Kichener worthy
 men, but enthusiasts.   Alas !  poor Lord N., how little dost
 thou judge according to the Scripture's estimate !  Was not
 then St. Paul an enthusiast!"
   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 6th book—
 ' the promised Sabbath.'  What a prospect !  Oh the un-
 speakable mercies of God ;  what can I desire  which he  has
 not  granted me!  And then when I compare 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  grateful  !  Oh let me strive more to
 love God and Christ,  to delight in them, and  be grateful to
 them in some proportion to what I ought."  "  Oct.  28th. Off
 for Lord G.'s, where very kindly received.  It  is a fine place,
 and improved 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.   Re-
 solved to take opportunity from a conversation we had at N.
 to write 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 understanding.   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 would,
 humanly speaking, have been  the ruin of my children, if not
 of myself."  " Finishing in the evening a letter of Alexander
 Knox's, of fine imagination, rich in  thought and beautiful in
 language ; 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 which all
through his long public life he  was connected with the efforts
                           29 
338
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1811.
 of religious men in every quarter. Mr. Simeon was anxious
 to set up at Cambridge an Association of the Bible Society,
 and he  at once appealed to Mr. Wilberforce 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 progress of this noble institution.

                              " Near London, Dec. 10, 1811.
 " My dear Sir,
   Io triumphe !  or rather let me more properly praise God
 for the greatly altered view of things.  When all  my pros-
 pects  were dark and  gloomy, behold the light  suddenly
 breaks forth.  Who should be announced to me this morn-
 ing, but  the Duke of Gloucester, who with  a cheerful coun-
 tenance accosted me by saying, that he had come himself to
 let me know that though on  the whole  he still thought 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 sub-
 scriber of 50 guineas ; and that if there should be a request
 made to him to become President or Patron of the Society,
 he should not decline the situation.  The Duke suggested,
 that if the Bishop of Bristol, from delicacy  toward his bro-
 ther 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
 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 most sincerely yours,
                                    W. Wilberforce."

   The day following the meeting, its success was thus com-
 municated 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 lend-
ing 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 
1811.          WILLIAM ALLEN THE QUAKER.           339

we meet, I could not attend the meeting. But our great and
admirable friend, the Dean of Carlisle, who is himself instar
omnium, did ; and there exercised his extraordinary powers
to the credit of himself and the furtherance of this most im-
portant 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 " 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 labouring under a distressing oppression on the
chest  which for some weeks almost  deprived him of bis
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."
" R.'s birth-day, so they had their play of King and Queen
in my  court dresses—in  the evening chess.  Evening, air-
pump,  and Southey's Curse of Kehama—imagination wild as
the winds—prodigious command of language, and the moral
purity truly  sublime—the finest ideas all  taken from the
Scriptures."   " Oh  what a consideration is it, that magnifi-
cent as  are the visions  of glory in  which Southey's fancy
revels, and which  his creative genius forms, they are all be-
neath the simple reality of  the Christian's hope, if he be but
duly impressed with it! May the eyes of my understanding be
enlightened, that I may know what is the hope of His calling,
and what the riches of His glorious inheritance.   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 busi-
ness, and so busy at Lancaster's schools, lecturing at Guy's
publicly—he attends all charitable 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 
340
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1812.
 soup at Spital Fields from six  to  nine.  Thus can he con-
 tract into the smallest dimensions, or expand into the largest,
 for beneficent purposes."
   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 humiliation.  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 se-
 curity  against trifling."  " 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 devoting the new year to God  by public  worship  in a
 sacrament on  the 1st of January—but you  shall hear  from
 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 yourself and
 all that are dear to you for time and for eternity."
   The approaching crisis with America filled him  with un-
 easiness.  " 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  inti-
 midate.   It may be so; but nine  times out often 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 consequent-
 ly of a speedy dissolution, but  we  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 between Great Britain  and America."  "I
 am so much affected," he tells Mr.  Eabington,  " by the  pro-
 bability 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 war 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
* For the correspondence between the two governments. 
1812.
NEGOTIATIONS WITH AMERICA.
341
 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  much he had  been
 disappointed  by  my going against him.  Yet all our set
 voted with me—much misrepresented in the Morning Chro-
 nicle next day.  I went against my  wife's  remonstrance, to
 soften and prevent irritation."
    To his friends in the country he thus explains the motives
 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 conva-
 lescent I  hope, though not  well.  But on Thursday last, the
 great anxiety I felt, and indeed continue to  feel, on the Ame-
 rican 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 satisfaction  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 vari-
 ous 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 instance!;)
 against the American government,  and its representative,
 General Armstrong, must have  come forward.
   Again,  I fear  there is too much cause for apprehending,
 that the American  government, finding its  threatening  lan-
 guage  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
                          29* 
342               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1812.

of our country gentlemen,  as  well as in government, and
would consequently produce the rupture which I so greatly
deprecate.  But I must say farewell: and  believe me, with          I
esteem and regard, my dear sir,
                            Yours sincerely,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  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 approach-
ing expiration of the East India Company's charter.  He was
most  anxious that the Church should assume her  proper sta-
tion in this noble  undertaking, of diffusing  the blessings of
Christianity, and  was therefore " trying to keep back the
Dissenters and Methodists, until the Church fairly come for-
ward, 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 congregation."
  He  was himself endeavouring to arouse the Church ; " set-
ting hard to work on a  paper for the Christian Observer
urging clergymen to come forward and press the communi-
cation 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 introducing
Christian light  into India.  He freely professed himself fa-
vourable to the object, but saw great difficulties 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 general 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          y
not put into the Bill.  But more—that  we must  secure the          t
entrance 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 con-
ceived that probably  those who are interested  for religion
will be compelled to join the great body of commercial and
political-economy men, who will I doubt not contend for de-
stroying  the monopoly of the Company, and leaving the road          ]
to the East Indies free and open ;"  " and I cannot doubt that 
 1812.                ORDERS IN COUNCIL.               343

 the most mature consideration 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 passage for the entrance of light, and truth, and mo-
 ral improvement and happiness into that benighted and de-
 graded region."
   " I am sadly disappointed," he  says a week later, " in find-
 ing even religious  people so cold about the East  Indian In-
 struction.   Partly produced  I  think by the sectaries having
 had a notion that the  Church of England to be established.
 Alas !  alas! let us  have some substance before  we differ
 about form."
   Public affairs meanwhile were of a highly interesting cha-
 racter. " 29th.  Mr. Alexander Baring came at one by appoint-
 ment to talk of Orders in Council and licenses till  four.  The
 scales doubtful; but if an American  war certain provided
 the Orders are retained, that makes them preponderate." " I
 never was a warm friend to those measures;  or  rather no
friend  at all,  but an enemy to  parts of them.   I am sick at
heart from the sad  prospect of a  war  with America."
   He was now leading  his usual London life ; constant in
the House, full  of all plans for public or private charity, and
showing to others no symptom of the decay which  he  sus-
pected in himself.  One " day at home writing and correct-
ing a paper about Danish confiscation ;"  then " to Rose at
 the Council Office with Latrobe about the Moravian mis-
 sionaries  in Greenland," or " all the  afternoon busy about
 setting up a dispensary for our neighbourhood," and " wait-
ing 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."
   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 en-
trance into public life; for they owed their origin  to the in-
creased attention to religion, which was  in  great measure
the fruit of his exertions.  When he was  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 
344
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1812.
 well." " African 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.  Im-
 mense 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 transmitted Dr.
 Buchanan's sketch for an ecclesiastical establishment in In-
 dia, which they embodied in their resolutions; 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  kingdom.   On
 Monday,  May 11th,  some friends  had been breakfasting
 with  him  to talk  over the East Indian question, 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. Bab-
 ington (who was chairman  of the Committee on the Orders
 in Council) at  the examination, which began at four, when
 he  returned to us (Henry  Thornton, Mrs. Babington, &c.)
 about a quarter  to five, greatly agitated, stating that Perce-
 val had been shot dead in the lobby.  We could scarce be-
 lieve it.   I went, after calling  at Perceval's and Arbuthnot's,
 who quite overwhelmed, to the House, to the Prison rooms,
 where the poor wretch Bellingham [was,  they were] examin-
 ing 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 composed  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 Secre-
 tary'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
 summoned about the  proposition to be made for the provi-
sion for poor Perceval's family."
  " Perceval," he says in  his private Diary, "had the sweet-
 est of all possible tempers, and was one of the most con-
 scientious men I ever knew ; the most  instinctively obedi-
ent to the dictates of conscience, the least disposed to give
pain to others, the most charitable and truly kind and gene-
rous creature I ever knew.   He offered me at once a thou- 
1812.
perceval's murder.
345
sand  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 overcome
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 ob-
tained it for  him and  Mr. Daniel Wilson, whom  at my re-
commendation he had brought with him.  The poor creature
was  much  affected, and very  humble and thankful,  but
spoke of himself as unfortunate 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 mur-
derer's forgiveness.  Oh  wonderful power of Christianity !
Is this the same  person who could  not bear to have him op-
posed by arvy one!"
  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 withdrawn from the
bad passions of men.  To this cause I think may be added
the  modern system of  making  expediency the basis of mo-
rals 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 emotions which are taught and imbibed in
this school, receiving 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 
346
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1812.
the true remedy, indeed, the only remedy of our  diseased
nature, by teaching the mass of our people the knowledge
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 circu-
lated so industriously.
  It is no small pleasure to me to believe that Mr.  Perceval
had an habitual desire to please God; and  I doubt not he
looked to Him with unfeigned humiliation, through the Re-
deemer.  It is really an honour  to our House, that his pri-
vate virtues were so generally recognized  among us.  How
much  I wish  that I  may not hear that in our county the ac-
count  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,  ' 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. Wilberforce."

  In the midst of all the public bustle and political contention
which  followed the death of Mr. Perceval, growing out of the
difficulty the  Prince Regent experienced in forming a minis-
try, 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  sis-
ter, " 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 east  wind,
since I recollect  that it will meet you and prevent your all
suffering from the heat ... In comes John Villiers, and  he
has released  me only  by my absolutely forcing him out at 
1812.
REV. THOMAS SCOTT.
347
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 sum-
mer beauties could not supply the want  of animal life.  Bar-
bara's gum-cistus  is in high beauty, and the roses  in full
bloom.  My own room produces something of the same me-
lancholy sensation  as the children's gardens;  but I am going
to dine  at  Babington's to meet Mr.  Robert  Hall, (the  Dis-
senting minister,)  whose shyness is such that he could not
bring himself to come to me, though, hearing that he wished
to see me,  I wrote him a long  letter to banish all such  feel-
ings, 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 inform 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 impossible 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 returning
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.  Sunday 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. " I have  been much affected by hearing
old Scott  of the Lock for the first time these many  years.
The  beginning of his sermon . . ' I 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 ; 
348
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1812.
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 humili-
ated 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 consequent pathos, the character of his preaching."
   " What a blessing," he says, " is a cheerful temper ! I 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 remember-
ing 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.  "My first employment must be
writing—to clear away an  immense arrear of unanswered
letters and unread papers."  " Besides the mass of trash, I
have letters for Europe,  Asia,  Africa, and America."
   Here he was exposed to few external interruptions, and was
therefore able to devote more time than usual to his children :
whilst he indulged in "a little miscellaneous reading.  Some-
times 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 after-
noon in walking I ran over for an hour The Vicar of Wake-
field.    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 benefit
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 Sandgate 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, donkeys, every thing but a church, or chapel, or  any 
 1812.     ABANDONS REPRESENTATION OF YORKSHIRE.      349

 thing of the kind, though it is a sort of preserve of the Arch-
 bishop'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 . . ." Thurs-
 day :  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 hereafter—may this meet-
 ing be for good" . ..while 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 anxieties,  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 decision.
 Lord  Sidmouth  had privately informed him  that an imme-
 diate dissolution was at  hand ; and the time was therefore
 come, when he must make up his mind to retain or to resign
 the representation of his county-  "I shrink," he says, when
 weighing  all the arguments  upon  the subject, " from abso-
 lutely deciding to resign my situation 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
consideration.   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.
                           30 
350               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1812.

   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 constributed 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 under-
take so serious and weighty a trust as that  of the  repre-
sentative of the county of York.
  Yet  I will fairly own to you that it is not altogether with-
out difficulty  that  I have brought  myself to form this deter-
mination ; but my judgment being clear, and that after much
and long reflection, (for it is more  than a year that this plan
has been in contemplation,) and my own opinion being con-
firmed 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 dis-
solution of parliament 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 influ-
enced 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  rea-
son to  believe (some which no one almost knows but  my-
self, but which would be of very  powerful operation) that I
should be warmly supported by the great  body of the clo-
thiers.   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 circumstance would produce in me so
strong a disposition to stand my ground, that  I should find
it very hard work to force myself  to retire, if I could do it at
all—not, believe me, from  personal motives, though I dare
not affirm that they would not mix, but because I should no
longer think  it my duty so to do; for  believing that four- 
1812.
RESIGNATION ANNOUNCED.
351
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 con-
sider 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 hence has arisen  that abomina-
ble report of  a.compromise 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 probably place
me in a seat in which my occasional attendance 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 announcing 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  dissolution of parliament should seem really
likely, or pretty certainly to take place, it might, and I con-
ceive would,  become  right for  me to declare  my intention
without further loss of time ; but if we seem  likely to live
through another session, the declaration might this year be
premature.  I cannot conclude  without thanking you most
cordially 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 per-
sonal motives, which indeed would be a supposition disho-
nourable to  yourself, yet I should be void  of all gratitude if
its emotions were not called forth by the long course of con-
tinued good  offices  with which you have favoured me.  Let
me again however earnestly request, that all I have said may
be at present considered as strictly confidential.
  Let nie beg you  to present  my  own and Mrs. W.'s kind
remembrances to Lady Charlotte, who, with all the family, I 
352
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1812.
hope is well, and to believe  me, my dear D. with real re-
gard,
                           Yours very sincerely,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  His intentions did not long remain a secret.  On the 21st,
 hearing from good authority that parliament was about  to
be dissolved  he sent " his  resigning advertisement."   " 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 myself what  it wishes, still my
judgment is for Bramber."
  This  unexpected announcement was very variously re-
ceived.   Those who  had witnessed the amount  of  labour
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.  Such was Mr. Bankes's
judgment.
  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 advocate 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 conspicuous and efficient mem-
ber."
  The applause which  he feared to seem to seek, followed
him into his retirement.   The county at large on the day of
nomination recorded solemnly their judgment of his charac-
ter in an enthusiastic vote of their  unanimous 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 circumstances
which attended  the first formation of my connexion with the
county of York without recognising the traces of providen-
tial guidance, neither can I forbear to acknowledge the same
gracious favour in my  having so long  continued in  my ho-
nourable station.   May I not well wonder that  in a county
accustomed  to  so much attention  from its members, so
much that was  likely to give offence should be endured in
me without the slightest expression of disapprobation.  My 
1812.
M. S. MEM.
353
religious character and  habits might alone be expected to
produce disgust.  My never attending the county races, or
even  the assizes; my  never cultivating the  personal ac-
quaintance of the nobility and gentry  (an  omission  which
would have been culpable, but for the expenditure it  would
have occasioned of time which I wanted for important pur-
poses) ; 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 I never should have expe-
rienced another opposition.   But I began to perceive  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 received 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 general 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  York-
shire  for  the  borough  of Bramber, I  met Mr.  Sheridan.
After we  had exchanged  salutations, ' Do you know,' said
he,  ' that I was near writing  to you some little time  ago!'
On  my asking the occasion of his intended letter, ' 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 informed that you were to come
into parliament for Bramber; this information made me lay
aside my  intention.'"
  His Sandgate retirement was now interrupted by the con-
clusion of his  children's holidays; as he wished himself to
place one of his boys with a new tutor in Leicestershire.
" On Friday last," he tells Lord Muncaster,  " I set out from
                           30* 
354
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1812.
Sandgate with my two boys, to convey them  to  their re-
spective places of education."
  This journey is a good illustration of his parental tender-
ness.  " I had resolved," he writes to Mrs. Wilberforce from
Leicestershire, " to set  my  face towards Cambridge this
very day ;  but at length I thought it better, (after a rumina-
tion 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 re-
turn 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 burst-
ing into tears, first quietly, and afterwards with sobs.  I was
near crying too as I said to Mrs.----, ' I must get off,  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 be-
tween  Barnet and  London,  whom two or three gentlemen
were attending to.  The  Leeds coach with  the back seats
empty  was just behind,  and multitudes of passengers, so
that help could not be wanted; yet it was wrong  in all re-
spects to pass by.   It is  an  adjudged case  since  the  good
Samaritan  parable—at which I should have  been instinc-
tively prompt.  It was not hardness of heart I believe either.
I was busy hearing 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, forgive
me !  I felt (and  now condemn it) more, that to-day is the
anniversary (Oct. 25th)  of my escape from drowning 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  exercises, in
which my  main objects will  be Divine  guidance and bless-
ing 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, 
1812.
LETTER TO MRS. HANNAH MORE.
355
years older" than he was;  but more intimate  acquaintance
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 ap-
parent 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 ex-
uberance 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  fullest ex-
ercise;  and when being read to in his  family circle, which
was his delight,  he poured forth  all his stores,  gathering
around him  book after book to illustrate, question, or  confirm
the immediate subject of the evening.

  From Barham Court 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 is revived by the
change, and instinctively 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
animation.   Or rather,  to speak the truth, he would  not, fot
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. 
356
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1812.
  " Mrs. Wilberforce  desires me  to  send her kindest re-
membrances ;  give mine to the sisterhood, and believe me,
       Ever your sincere and affectionate friend,
                                  W. Wilberforce.
  " P. S. Alas ! alas!  this sad war with America!  I  never
felt any pubJic incident so deeply.  Yet on the whole I thank
God I can lay my head  on my pillow in peace, for our govern-
ment is not chargeable with the blood-guiltiness;  but Madi-
son, 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 com-
pany 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  instructive.   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 holiness, 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 par-
doning 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 im-
portant subjects to consider, and so much to do ; yet the ex-
amples as well as the  writings of good  men, and  above all,
the Holy Scriptures, taking  the precepts 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 now extremely
occupied, Owen's  remark in some degree applies, (inference
from Malachi,) that we 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 
1812.
RULES OF CONDUCT.
357
main-spring's  force be  strengthened,  and its  working im-
proved, (cleansed  from dust and foulness,)  surely the  ma-
chine will go  better.  Lord, what I do I trust is pleasing to
Thee, accept and bless my service."
   " Let me look  over  my  ' grounds  for humiliation,' my
' company regulations.'   How sadly apt am J to lose all re-
collection 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 phylactery.   See Numb. xv.
38, 40."
   With  such  resolutions  he  returned  to London  life.
"Dec.  1st.  House—I meant to  speak rather for peace, but
expressed my meaning imperfectly,  and the newspapers
putting in only what is calculated, as they conceive, to make
me unpopular, and leaving out all the rest, I am made to be
far more warlike than  I am, or should  have  been  supposed
to  be, if I had been silent.  They omitted all I said about my
thinking it a favourable  time for treating, and that  I  hoped
they would take every fair opening; but that  giving them
credit for  this  intention, (mentioning Lord Sidmouth in  the
ministry,) I would not  hamper them, and  probably  injure
the country's cause by instructing them to treat by a par-
liamentary direction;  when they would feel bound  to obey,
and  the enemy of  course conclude that he might treat on
terms proportionably more favourable."
   He writes to Sheffield :—" I congratulate you on the in-
telligence yesterday received. May the  Almighty be pleased
to  prove to the warrior  of the present  day, as  He  did to a
predecessor of old times, that he is but an instrument  to ac- <
complish the Divine purposes, the rod of His anger, and that
when sufficient chastisement has been received, he can be
at  once checked in his career."
   His time was now  so fully occupied by important  ques-
tions in the House  of  Commons, and pressing  business out
of it, that as  yet  he  found  little increased leisure from his
change of station.   His Diary shows the nature of his pre-
sent  occupations.
   " Dec. 7th.  Breakfasters numerous,  and not clear from
company till time  to  go  to British and Foreign Bible So-
ciety's monthly committee meeting, to get a grant of Testa-
ments for the West  Indies, 2000  willingly granted.  To 
358
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1812.
Babington's and wrote letters.  Met Butterworth fresh from
Ireland . . his communications  show  sad  hostility of mind
between  Protestants and  Roman Catholics . . then House.
Moving for papers about Slave Trade at Cape, and Mauri-
tius.  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, Manufacturers' 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 of
his mixed parties—Lord  Sidmouth—Vansittart—Hastings,
quite aged.  All splendid—Lord Sidmouth clever.   Sheri-
dan 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 doubt-
ingly.  African Institution,  and  home.   Voice not well to-
day.   Duchess  of York took my antelope.   18th. Letters
and callers  till two.   African  Institution.  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 An-
chor, and found Lord Liverpool, Duke of York, Lord Cas-
tlereagh,  N. Vansittart, Lord Harrowby,  Lord Buckingham-
shire, 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 Rus-
  * A sum of 200.000Z. 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.
359
sian merchants—sad, so to spoil a noble work which would
have taken admirably, and have given rise to a noble testi-
mony of national admiration, esteem, benevolence, and gra-
titude.  24th.  Town—read  Report, corrected from Allen's
draught  at Freemasons'  Hall—distressed manufacturers-
Duke of Cambridge in the  chair—he  had  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  preliminary  one  before  Christmas.
26th.   To Lord  Liverpool's by  half-past eleven, to confer
about undoing the evil done by the Russian subscription ma-
nagement.   Lord Harrowby, Vansittart, S. Thornton came.
Agreed upon  notifying another meeting—acting on my ad-
vice.   Still I fear all or a hundredth part of the mischief can-
not 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  partner,
breakfasted with me, and stayed long talking  with me of his
plan of education, and of rendering manufactures and morals
compatible."  This visit  was renewed soon after, and Mr.
Grant and Henry Thornton  met Mr. Owen by appointment.
When Mr. Owen was  proceeding  to detail  his  schemes,  he
gently hinted that the ladies present might be suffered to re-
tire from a  discussion  which must prove beyond their com-
 prehension.   Mr. Wilberforce 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 audience."   " One of my great principles, Mr. Wil-
 berforce," said the schemer, " is, that persons ought to place
 themselves in the situation of others, and act as they would
 wish themselves to be treated."   " Is that quite a new prin-
 ciple, Mr. Owen!"  was his answer, with that look of  sup-
 pressed humour, which gave his countenance an archness of
 expression which no description can  convey.  " I think I have
 read something very like it in a book called the New Testa-
 ment."  " Very  possibly  it may be so," gravely answered the
 imperturbable philosopher.  Yet such was his universal kind-
 ness, that Mr. Owen left him to tell others that Mr. Wilber-
 force was charmed with his discoveries.
    At times, in  the secret struggles  of his  heart, he laments
 that he was " unable to  realize the presence of God. It was 
360
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE;
1812.
 as if there had been a wall of separation that I could not pe-
 netrate or see over;  and my heart dead and cold.  Surely
 it is not enthusiasm to notice these sensations, 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
 impressive sermon by Mr. Dunn.  I hope that my sensibility
 is in some degree the effect  of the Holy Spirit, the knocking
 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  oP confiding,
 though humble  faith—looking  to  the  Saviour as my only
 ground of hope.  I cast myself at the foot of the cross, be-
 wailing my exceeding sinfulness and unprofitableness, deep-
 ly, most deeply aggravated by the infinity 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 inheritance of the saints in light.   Then shall
 I also be better in all the  relations of life in which I am now
 so defective, 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 read-
 ing," 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 " meet-
 ings against Roman Catholics in all parts of England."  " I
 am very doubtful which way right." This was his only ques-
tion ; general popularity and party principle were no rule for
him to  steer by; and though he suffered keenly from shock-
ing, upon such a question, the conscientious scruples of those
whose  principles  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 displays at this time
the exact balance of his mind in a letter to William Hey. 
1813.
ROMAN CATHOLIC QUESTION.
361
                                " 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 I
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 ad-
missibility into parliament; and  there is one consideration
which  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 consideration. It is that
whatever the Roman Catholics,  if admitted  into the  House
of Commons, could effect through the  medium  of law for es-
tablishing 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 can
serve the Roman Catholics even better in one respect, inas-
much as they do not call into action the opposite Protestant
spirit in the same degree.
  But while the Roman Catholics thus possess parliamentary
influence, they  do  not possess it  in such a manner as to ren-
der it  a personal privilege, or  gratification to them; and
therefore so as  to give them an interest in the existing legis-
lature, and  to connect them to the Protestant system by the
various ties which unite men who act together in parliament,
and which  would render it improbable 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.  Wilberforce."
                          31 
362               life of wilberforce.              1813.

  Under this view it was a mere question of political  expe-
diency.  The principle had been long since conceded.   Poli-
tical 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 pro-
moted  by a  change  of system ; for that " the actual state of
the laws," as he told Mr. Charles Butler, " so far from afford-
ing  any security to the Established Church, or to the Protes-
tant cause in general, augmented their danger ; and  so far
from lessening or  weakening the influence of the Roman Ca-
tholic 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 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 undivided
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 moment  of the contest now
drew near.  Though he had  been long making preparations,
he  had not satisfied himself.   " I 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 homewards.   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, ' 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 
1813.             CHRISTIANITY IN INDIA.               363

to Christianize the East must infallibly cost us our dominion;
and though  they  might reluctantly assent to the scanty ec-
clesiastical establishment for the English residents in India,
which  government had been  persuaded  to propose, they
were determined  to abate none of their hostility to mis-
sionary efforts.   They proposed 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 mis-
taken, 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.  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 peo-
ple ; 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
Indian 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 re-
ligious  feeling of the  eountry.  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 re-
newal of  the East India Company's charter, and the oppor-
tunity it offers of doing away that great national crime of 
364
LIFE of wilberforce.
IS 13.
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 wTe should leave sixty millions 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 prudently proceeding to Christianize
our East Indian population  we  should  greatly add  to the
stability of our Oriental empire.  Now I grieve to say, it is
intended to commit, as before, to the Court of  Directors the
uncontrolled 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 proposed system
of barring out  all moral and religious  light from the  East
Indies, and declared that we were confident 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 petitioned  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 strong-
ly.  The Methodists and Dissenters  will,  I doubt not,  peti-
tion ; but let it  not be  said that they only take an interest
in the happiness of mankind, and that the members of our
Church are not as zealous when there is a real call for  such
exertions.   I cannot write to-day to Huddersfield, or Brad-
ford, but do you exert yourself.
                   I remain ever sincerely yours,
                                    W. Wilberforce." 
1813.
CHRISTIANITY IN INDIA.
365
  He was now " excessively busy  stirring up petitions,"
feeling that it was " the greatest object which men ever pur-
sued."  " The spirit  of petitioning scarcely spreads  as  one
could wish."  Yet the leaven was at work, and he soon adds,
that " already Bristol, Hull, Glasgow, (excellent 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, con-
sulted  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 Com-
pany's charter.  Long discussion."  On the Monday follow-
ing, 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 bu-
siness. " Writing almost all morning about East India char-
ter—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 mis-
sions may be seen  from  the general tenor of  their ques-
tions.   " 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!"  " Would it  be consistent with the security of the
British Empire in India, that missionaries should preach pub-
licly 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 ; whilst 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 ecclesi-
astical establishment for  India, and all security for prevent-
ing the door from being barred against the admission of re-
ligious and  moral light,  should  be  altogether  abandoned.
Now this conduct it appears to me would be one of the most
crying insults that ever called down the vengeance of Hea- 
366
LIFE of wilberforce.
1813.
ven.  While we are going so far in favouring  the  Roman
Catholics, shall Christianity be the only religion which is not
to be tolerated in India !"
   The examinations were evidently tending towards this re-
sult ; 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 Thorn-
ton's, Palace Yard, at three—" Stephen, Grant, Henry Thorn-
ton, Babington, and I, to discuss  about the Lords' examin-
ation of witnesses on religious  business—agreed that I
should call to-morrow on Lord Grenville and Lord Welles-
ley, and settled one or two other points. Dined there, which
I 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 fer-
ment amongst the Hindoos, and favour an idea which (once
obtained)  would cause our  expulsion from Bengal and In-
dia,"  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 occasion-
ed 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 practices preva-
lent there."
   The Easter week now for a short time intercepted the pro-
ceedings of the House of Commons, and he had long been
engaged  to spend  it with his  family in visiting  Lord
Gambier.   " Our going put off  once  or twice  already,
but after a severe struggle I resolved to give it up entirely.
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 every where.   He was the link be-
tween the most dissimilar allies. Bishops and Baptists found
in him a common term.  "After  breakfast Messrs. Gutte-
ridge, Weymouth, and Shaw, three  Baptist committee gen-
tlemen, called on me about East  India Baptist missionaries. 
1813.
ILLNESS.
367
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 happi-
ness of our fellow-creatures !"
  In the midst of this engrossing struggle, he was threaten-
ed with a serious attack of sickness,  and for one day was
very ill.   The temper of his mind under this distressing in-
terruption, 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 simplicity 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 could do nothing but think of God's goodness to me,
in that even  when I am ill, I suffer no pain. General Calvert
told  me of  Col. ---—'s  most painful operation,  (twenty
minutes long,) after great  previous suffering, undergoing im-
mense fatigues, 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 purpose,
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  the effects of it."
" This East Indian object," was his declaration when he un-
dertook 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 eternal happiness of millions; literally, millions  on mil-
lions 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 con-
trition !  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, in-
stead of the hardness of a good soldier of Christ! It may be 
368
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1813.
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 religious 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 Buckinghamshire's and
our arrangement for East India Christianizing Resolutions—
far surpassing my expectations."  " Let me express my hu-
miliation," 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
genera] as to improving,  moralizing, and  Christianizing  In-
dia.  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 had yielded to his wishes the
battle was not over.  The Resolutions which they had adopt-
ed, 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  Reso-
lution.  " The  appearance of  the House at the  beginning
of the evening was  as bad as could be, but  Lord Castle-
reagh opened  the subject very discreetly  and  judicious-
ly."  The morning  of the 22d had  been given  up to pre-
paration,  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 before,  he had ap-
peared in the same place, the eloquent advocate of this same
cause.  He  had beyond all expectation 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 sub-
ject had faded  from his recollection, but  because he had
meanwhile been devoted  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
reasoning out  his own conclusions; yet  relieving the una-
voidable prolixity of such a speech by occasional flashes of 
1813.
DR. CAREY.
369
the brightest eloquence.  " He who knows my heart," he said
in closing his account of the Hindoo superstitions, " knows
that I have not  drawn this melancholy picture to exult over
its blackness.  It is with grief and shame I view it;  mourn-
ing, 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 1 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 degra-
dation, 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 praying for us all
night.  Oh what cause  for thankfulness; yet  almost intox-
icated  with success."  The impression of nine hundred peti-
tions,  a  number then wholly without  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 enthusiasm ;  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 long will this object be pursued
with unabated ardour until the great work be accomplished."
  One great  argument  of his opponents was  grounded on,
the enthusiastic character which they imputed to the mission-
ary body.  India hitherto had seen no missionary who was
a member of the English Church, and imputations could be
cast more  readily on " Anabaptists and fanatics."   These
attacks Mr. Wilberforce indignantly refuted, and wrell had
the noble conduct of the band at Serampore  deserved this
vindication.  " I do not know,"  he  often said, " a  finer in-
stance of the moral sublime, than that a poor cobbler work-
ing in his stall  should conceive 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 blind-
ness was nothing to it.   And then when he  had gone to
India, and was  appointed by Lord Wellesley to a lucrative
and honourable station  in the college of Fort William, with
equal nobleness of mind  he made over all his salary (between
£1000 and J1500 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 
370
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1813.
Commons by my stating this last circumstance.   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 mis-
taken, 4 Pray, Mr. Wilberforce, do you know a Mr. Andrew
Fuller, who has written to desire me to retract the statement
which  I  made with  reference to  Dr.  Carey!'   ' 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 was 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 accusation should be present;
but during that whole time he never once dared show him-
self in the House."
   Once more, upon the 12th of July, the Resolution was
contested, but passed,  in spite  of  Mr.  Tierney's and  the
Anglo-Indian opposition.
   His  own personal influence had been a powerful instru-
ment in gaining this 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 senti-
ments were wholly different, " when the House  had been
tired night after night with discussing the endless questions
relating to Indian policy,  Mr. Wilberforce, with a  just confi-
dence 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 glowing
language of  his heart.   Much as I differed from  him in
opinion, it was impossible not to be delighted with his elo-
quence ; and though I wish most heartily that the Hindoos
might be left to their  own  Trinity, yet I felt disposed to
agree with him, that some good must  arise to the human
mind, by being engaged in a controversy which will exercise
most of its 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 
1813.
JOURNAL.
371
burden.  A few extracts from his Diary, with which it was
impossible  to break the chain of facts connected with his
leading business, will  show how closely the interstices it
left were packed with other matters.
  " March  4th.  Lock Hospital meeting.   Then African In-
stitution—Duke  of  Gloucester.  Dined  Henry Thornton'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 governor's ill usage of us.   Poor
Lord----very  unreasonable and positive.   How calm one
can be, when acting with  real disinterestedness !   Yet cu-
rious, that I only arguing with  him for his own interest
and credit's sake.   19th. Castlereagh  showed me what he
had told me before, Sweden's  abolition  and Guadaloupe
surrender—Euge. April 7th. Jews—London Tavern.  First
stone laying at  Bethnall Green—Duke of Kent,  Lord Ers-
kine  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 Registry
Bill,  and large meeting.  20th.  Canning came to me about
Roman Catholic Bill;  with him to Mr. Ponsonby by Grat-
tan'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  business, 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 Lon-
 don  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 Mis-
 sionary Society for Africa and East.  Dealtry,  excellent
 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  Teignmouth's—
 Bishops of  Salisbury, St. David's, Cloyne;  and Norwich
 was to have been there, but prevented.  6th. Prayer Book 
372
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1813.
 and Homily Society—spoke,  after a sermon, which  could
 not attend causa, meeting at Gloucester House—Lord  Grey,
 Lansdown, Stephen,  Macaulay, Harrison, Vansittart,  about
 Registry  Bill.  7th. Jewish Meeting anniversary—sermon
 yesterday, Randolph  of Bath—I spoke.   12th. Archbishop
 of Cashel  called  morning—much  talk with him about Ire-
 land.  13th. Morning busy.   Dined hastily Henry Thorn-
 ton'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 Sun-
 day's meditation  beautifully adds—" Having so Jittle 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 bewailed  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 inquiry 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 under-
 take 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."
   His children now  were much upon his mind.  They had
all gathered around  him at Sandgate, 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
forJiis 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 extremely
inadequate powers in  all  that  concerns the work of educa-
tion, but I  humbly trust  that I can say with truth  that the
spiritual interests  of my children are my first object, I mean 
1814.
VIEWS OF EDUCATION.
373
that I wish 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 consi-
der thoroughly and  after consideration to pursue the dictates
of my judgment.  I own I am rather sanguine  in my hopes
of the result, on 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 cor-
rectly—we do not think enough or speak enough of the Sa-
viour.  I would gladly have Him continually before me.  I
find the sense of His presence produces a humble, calm, con-
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 seve-
ral 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, ex-
cept a single day that she  had spent with  him in the sum-
mer ;  and it was with no little pleasure that he again found
himself, his wife and daughters, beneath the roof of the sis-
terhood.  Death indeed had visited their dwelling, 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 town; but no important ques-
tions  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 holydays, and he was giving his usual
                           32 
374
LIFE OF WILBERFORCB.
1814.
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 quick-
ened  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 san-
guinely, 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
ourselves, and also to live closely with Him, that our inte-
rest with Him may  be greater'."   " S.'s interesting account
of poor C.  N.—yet while eulogizing him,  said he had no  be-
nevolence  or kindly feelings.  S. thinks  that  he was over-
dosed with  religion, and that of an  offensive kind, while
young.   It is an awful instance, and well deserves the study
of all parents; they should labour to render religion as con-
genial  as possible.  It is worth  inquiring what the failure
was  in poor N.'s case, if any; which it seems difficult not
to suppose considering all his sons to be such  as they are."
  Many other matters soon claimed a large share of his at-
tention.  Amongst the most troublesome was a long inquiry
into charges brought by a governor  of Sierra Leone against
his friend  Zachary Macaulay.   " Poor Macaulay,  after  all
his sufferings, labours, and  disinterestedness  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 oc-
cupied 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— 
1814.
LASCARS.
375
                        (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  to let you know
something  of a case which has been some time before me.
But consider  yourself as  having promised not to divulge 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 benevo-
lent and intelligent young men employing their  leisure in
teaching them English, and in  learning  from them Bengalee,
Hindoostanee, and Chinese.   I was expecting 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 treatment, and that they had therefore
resolved to send the grumblers off by the first ship.   Mat-
ters were in this state when about three quarters of an hour
ago, surrounded 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 immediately
after  an interview with  Lord Melville which  is  appointed
for half-past  one o'clock.  Will you meet me at the  India
House 1
          I am ever yours, in extreme haste,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

   The singleness  of spirit  in which  he  undertook  such
causes, may  be seen in the alacrity with which  he resigned
the leading part to others. " Grant," he tells Mr. Babington,
" has been asking  me to  spend some time with him to-mor-
row, to settle a plan for  the protection, and I hope instruc-
tion] of the Lascars ; will you help  him to form it!  It is a
business just suited  to you,  and it  would be aiding the ac-
complishment of a great  act  of humanity as well as of friend- 
376
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1R14.
 ship 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 wil-
 lingness 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 him towards me
 who had  first named the matter  to him, I appeared uncon-
 scious 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 prominence.
 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 " 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 re-
 spectable people.   Henry Thornton in the chair."
  Not satisfied with  this attempt, he was soon afterwards
 " 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.   All in confusion from one 'contrary' Lord,  who how-
ever  I am  told is a  benevolent,  kind-intentioned man.  The
Duke of Sussex  behaved 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 principle  than
vanity. Sir James Mackintosh too has acted nobly in coming 
1814.
MADAME DE STAEL.
377
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 Buckinghamshire'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 con-
sciousness how little I deserve their praises,  how assiduous
should it make me to use my influence wisely !   How gra-
ciously 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 merciful 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, "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 perhaps curiosity ; and I felt my vanity a little rising too
on the occasion.  Oh how full are we of this  degrading pas-
sion ; 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 ourselves, and to sit in judg-
ment 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 ex-
cite her prejudices.   It will  also enable me better to distin-
guish between  her religion and the true, in conversing with
others."
   19th.  Dined Duke of Gloucester's to  meet Madame de
Stael, at  her desire—Madame, her son and daughter, Duke,
two aides-du-camp,  Vansittart, Lord  Erskine, poet Rogers,

  * She has described this meeting in her Considerations sur  la Revolution
Francaise,  " L'homme le  plus aime, et le plus considere de toute l'Angle-
terre,' M. Wilberforce, put a peine se faire entendre, tant les applaudisse-
ments couvraient sa voix." 
378               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1814.

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 her
on 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 use-
less.  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 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 my-
self from dining with them.  It does not  seem the  line  in
which  I can now glorify  God.   Dinner quiet, and letters
afterwards."
   " March 4th. Much unpleasant doubting^hat 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 false-
hoods, the very doctrine and  crime  of  the world, which  so
resents what it calls lies and the imputation  of them. 
1814.
DANGERS OF SOCIETY.
379
  " 10th.  I have consented to dine with Madame de Stael;
I could not well do otherwise.   Bowdler said much to per-
suade  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 parly.
A cheerful, pleasant dinner.—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.  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 intoxicat-
 ing even to me.  The fever arising from  it is not yet gone
 off, (half-past 8, A. M.) though opposed by the most serious
 motives and considerations both last night and this morning.
 How dangerous  then must such  scenes  (literally of  dissi-
 pation, 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 !  Some-
 thing 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 unaccustomed to such scenes ; yet after allowing
 for these weaknesses 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 average
 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 gayety.  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 jadgmen^-seat of Christ, and be asked whether
 we  avoided temptation, and endeavoured to preserve a frame
 of spirit suited to those who had to work  out their salvation
 with fear and trembling."
$ 
380
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1814.
  " I 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 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 con-
nexion 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 conduct. Nor
was it  that any touch of age had damped the exuberance of
his  younger spirits ;  and that he withdrew morosely from
scenes in which he could not as of old give and experience
pleasure.  " Mr. Wilberforce," was Madame de Stael's de-
claration to Sir  James  Mackintosh,  " 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 wit-
tiest 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 ap-
peals, rendered  doubly impressive  by the fine  tones of his
musical voice, had deeply affected the feelings  of the audi- 
1814.
HIS SOCIAL QUALITIES.
381
tory.   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 mi-
nutes.   We had not been long seated when he entered the
room  with a smiling, animated countenance, and  a  lively
vivacity of movement and manner;  exchanging as he ad-
vanced kind salutations with his friends, whose faces were
lighted up with  peculiar pleasure 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 af-
ternoon  were marked by kindness  and vivacity,  and his
style of conversation 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 was 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  playfulness
marked his whole manner.  There was not a single hand-
some feature—there was scarcely one that was  not in itself
plain;  but the mingled emanations of imagination and intel-
lect, of benevolence and vivacity, diffused  over his counte-
nance 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 very few years of his death,
he wore powder; and his  dress and appearance were those
of a complete gentleman of the old school."
  In a  letter written at this time, he says,
  " How wonderful are the events of the last few days! 
382
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1814.
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, renouncing
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 selected 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' extremely occupied' to plead in my  defence,
I should  feel quite  uncomfortable at having  been,  I had
almost said churlishly, irresponsive  to your animated call.
And  I own I have been condemning  myself for not echoing
back the  songs of grateful acknowledgment. Never surely
was  the  hand of the Almighty more strikingly manifested.
Had  not  Buonaparte been  absolutely 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 think-
ing 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 consider-
ing 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 termination of the hurricane.
But do not talk publicly of this."

  " It would  be too shocking," he  says  to Mr.  Gisborne,
" to  restore to Europe the blessings of peace  with profes-
sions of our reverence for the principles  of justice and hu-
manity, 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 
1814.
ABOLITION OF SLAVE TRADE.
383
much occupied with the grand object of prevailing on all the
great European powers to agree to a convention for the ge-
neral 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 was to prepare a letter to the Empe-
ror Alexander.   " I am about to correspond with a real live
emperor," he concludes a letter to Mr. Gisborne, " not merely
such a sort  of Birmingham emperor as Buonaparte; so ad-
mire my condescension, which can bestow all this penman-
ship 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 infe-
rior concerns," he complains, " prevents my doing this really
important business.   1 cannot yet please myself at all;  and
I have written to beg Bowdler 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 em-
peror as if he were an inhabitant of the moon, I half had in-
tended  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.   Depend upon it, whatever
styles you employ as contributory, 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 composi-
tion.  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 pro-
gress.  I have been  sadly bothered about the French trans-
lation, 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
the  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 
384
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1814.
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 pre-
sent 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 unfettered movements of  the imagina-
tion or intellect;  and I  am sure that this last week I might
have saved for that work four  times as much  time as I as-
signed 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 impres-
sion of invisible and divine things  by the worship of God,
meditation, and reading.  I  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 de-
livering the European  continent from the bonds  in which,
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 benighted  regions of Christian light, and
moral improvement, and  social  comfort;  and  to  hear her
sable  children,  when,  in the language of  Scripture, ' 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
benefactors."
  " I staved off yesterday," (Sunday,) his  Diary continues,
" the thoughts of the Abolition arrangements,  but to-day
they rushed on me, and grieved me deeply."  On that even-
ing, when Lord Castlereagh, on his return from Paris, enter-
ed 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 emotions,
but this feeling was mastered by another which forbad its
utterance."  The acclamations  therefore  were  no  sooner 
1814.         CENSURES TREATY WITH FRANCE.         385

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  respecting  the Slave Trade, I can-
not but conceive that I behold  in his hand  the death-war-
rant of a  multitude  of innocent victims, men, women, and
children, whom  I had fondly indulged the  hope of having
myself rescued from destruction.   It is not,  however, to
give vent  to the feelings 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 particulars to which  I entreat my noble  friend's  imme-
diate  attention."   One of them was the  preventing  a five
years'  revival of  the Dutch Slave Trade, the other the im-
posing  restrictions  upon that  of  the French.  " When I
consider,"  he  continued,  " the  miseries  that we are now
about  to renew, is it possible to regard  them without the
deepest 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 considerations
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 my-
self 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 him-
self with  the  Abolition in a Congress.  He wishes to see
me."   On  the evening  of the 10th of June  he "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 interview.  Lock—from which,
to the  Emperor.   In  his  waiting-room were several of his
nobies—Prince Czartoriski,  Prince  of  Oldenburgh, and
others. At length the  Emperor who was absent at Messe
(Greek Church)  returned, with the  Princess  of Russia,
(Oldenburgh,) and I was  summoned up-stairs, and soon 
386
LIFE  OF WILBERFORCE.
1814.
 after into the inner room to the Emperor.   He took me by
 the hand, very cordially, 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,' we must keep them to
 it.'  I asked leave, before  I left him, to write to him, con-
 ceiving 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, ' What could be done, when  your own ambassador
 gave way!"
   More than once he was summoned by Alexander to con-
 versations, in which the Emperor spoke French, and he re-
 plied 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 Emperor.  " 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 useful information,  and whatever could im-
 prove  the people.  He acquiesced when I lamented the Em-
 peror'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 exhibited  our
 riches," says Mrs. H.  More,  " our gold and our silver, after
 having gorged them with banquets,  which  I hear they dis-
 liked, why were they not introduced  to something  serious
 besides the Quakers' meeting!  I did not dislike to let them
 witness our own grandeur, and  I like to express our respect
 and admiration for them, but why keep back from them eve-
 ry thing that was useful! They had  really little more  good
to carry home than poor Omai  had."   He at least was free
from this reproach.   " Too late,"  he  says, June 30th, " for
dinner, because writing about the Bible Society for  Czarto-
riski, and getting for him some  Reports of the Society for
Bettering the Condition of  the Poor."  Many years after- 
1814.
SANDGATE.
387
wards, almost the last visit Mr.  Wilberforce received was
from  this interesting man, when having resigned Russian
greatness to  fight  the  battles  of his  injured  country, he
sought the shores of England as an exile and a refugee.
  The temper of his own mind indeed was wholly undis-
turbed by the agitation  around him.  " How delightful," he
says after an evening spent in social intercourse, " to see the
love, simple devotedness, and gratitude of the 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  worth 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,  "I  must try
what I long ago heard  was the rule of Elliot the great up-
holsterer, 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 fu-
ture." " I 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 remarkable 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 assign at least
an hour in the morning, and when circumstances will per-
mit, the same in the evening, for Scripture 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 corruptions.  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 received in England. He had
already tried, through  Cardinal Gonsalvi,  to  influence the
Romish  conclave, and he now opened a correspondence with
a number of literati, Alexander Humboldt, Sismondi, Cha-
teaubriand, and Madame de  Stael, in the hope that he might
act through them upon their countrymen.  He was himself 
388
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1814.
preparing 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 are we 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 stupefaction, which  almost disqualify me for
all active employment 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 herewith to transmit
one to Chateaubriand.  You know probably that Lord Cas-
tlereagh charged himself with communicating 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 w alking, 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.  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 enjoyments 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
excursions."  With the same watchfulness for their advan- 
1814.
BATTERSEA RISE.
389
tage  he now tells Mr.  Macaulay,  that though  " at  first
disposed at once to cut his cables and slip off for  London,"
he had postponed his journey " until  Monday, because 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 business  multiplied
upon him.  On the 2d of September he tells Mrs.  Wilber-
force, " 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 ad-
vancing 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  engaged  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
announced as ' peace on earth, and good-will towards men !'
Ay, and surely we need not leave out  the most honourable
part of the service, ' 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 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 monopoly in
return for the recognition of its  independence, that all com-
merce with us will be  excluded, and  with it our best hopes
of introducing true religion into the island.   Now I will
frankly own to you, that 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  a want of reflection, for  my principles  have always
been the same.  God  grant we may not hinder the gospel
                           33* 
390
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1814.
of Christ.  O remember that the salvation of one soul is of
more worth than the mere temporal happiness of thousands
or even  millions.  In this I  well know you  agree with me
entirely."
  There  was nothing more remarkable about him than the
cheerful spring of his natural affections, even under the hea-
viest 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 remembrances 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 business he rescued time enough to write to  his
second son.
                               " 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 absence, 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 mo-
ments, to assure you that I  do not suspect  your silence to
have arisen from  the want of affection for me, any more than
that  which I myself have hitherto observed has proceeded
from this source.   There is a certain demon called procras-
tination, 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 direc-
tions ; and probably you will not  quit a dwelling-place that
you  like so well, till you hear that I am on my way to Sand-
gate.  You would meet the ' to-morrow man'  there, (it just
occurs to me,) and I hope you will have prevailed on him to
tell you  the remainder of that pleasant story, ^ 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 procrastination, 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. Wilberforce." 
1814.
ADULT SCHOOLS.
391
  It  is not a little interesting to turn from  public objects
which consumed so much of his time and attention to the de-
tails  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 he desired by kind, not violent
means."   He was as busy too doing good  to  those around
him, as if his sympathies had never wandered from his own
immediate circle; entering eagerly into any individual tale
of suffering—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 per-
sonal violence from the brutal parent—and labouring too by
schools and other institutions to relieve the want and  igno-
rance around him.  " The adult school," wrote a friend stay-
ing at  this time in his  family  to Mr. Arthur  Young, " is esta-
blished here ; a  room and teachers provided, and  all will be
left in  good train.  Mr. Wilberforce went himself, read them
extracts from Pole's History 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 see-
ing  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 institu-
tion."
   It is no wonder that thus causing and enjoying the present
social  happiness, he should have " 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 Thorn-
ton  tells Hannah More, " and heard his letters from many of
the  renowned of the earth, all seeming to pay homage to him.
Lord Castlereagh 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 ' ordonnance'of some sort issued re-
cently by the French  government, excluding French  slave-
 traders  from all the  northern parts of Africa; and the line
 is so drawn that Sierra Leone, and all the settlements re- 
392
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1814.
stored by the treaty with France, as well as a very large
district below Sierra Leone, are exempt from their molesta-
tions. 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 charac-
ter 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 not how-
ever 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 accomplished
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 attempt-
ed 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 acquaint-
ing you," writes Lord Castlereagh,  " that the long desired
object is  accomplished, and  that  the present  messenger
carries to Lord  Liverpool the unqualified and total Abolition
of the Slave Trade throughout the dominions 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  per-
suading myself that, as they will leave you nothing to  desire
on the subject, so you will trace in them the undeviating and
earnest exertions of the Prince Regent's ministers to effectu-
ate this great object, which had been so impressively given
them in charge." 
1815.
DEATH OF HENRY THORNTON.
393
   Mr. Wilberforce had  been long  accustomed to make the
 opening of a new year a time for serious and devotional re-
 flection. After morning service, on Sunday, Jan. 1st, (1815,)
 " I was much affected," is  his entry,  " O may it be perma-
 nently, 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 January 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 was 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 but particular friends. Dealtry and I up pray-
 ing with Henry and Mrs. and Miss Thornton."
   " My mind," he tells a friend at  the  conclusion of a busi-
 ness letter, " is in reality engrossed all this time by a differ-
 ent 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
 to poor Mrs. Henry Thornton than to any of us, that all com-
 parison is at an end.  However the old, well-worn consola-
 tion  is  not worn out, our loss is his gain, and we should in-
 deed 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, 
394
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1815.
and the cultivation of every Christian grace and moral vir-
tue 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 apologize 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 re-
spected as he did John Bowdler.  " I loved him  so warmly,"
he says when four busy years with all their obliterating in-
fluences had passed by since  his death, " that it quite de-
lights 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 light-
ening.  And  then he was the tenderest, and the humblest,
and the most  self-forgetting creature."  Bowdler too  had just
been mourning with him.  On the sorrowful day which fol-
lowed 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 desolate 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 strong-
est natural affections,  and the highest intellectual  powers.
Upon the 31st of  January, he was pronounced  " better, the
inflammation of the lungs subdued, and its conquest thought
a great point."  Yet on the following evening, when Mrs.
Hertfy Thornton's business had again carried  Mr.  Wilber-
force to town, " a note came to" him at seven, " telling me of
dear Bowdler's death at twelve o'clock this morning.  Oh
how little did  I foresee, when we met lately at Kensington
Gore,  that it  would 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." 
1815.         LETTER TO MRS. HANNAH MORE.           395
  To Hannah  More  a few  days later he pours  out his
heart.

                                  " London, Feb. 11, 1815.
" My dear Friend,
  Scarcely had a week passed away after the death of our
dear friend Henry Thornton, before the excellent and eleva-
ted Bowdler was  called out of this world, only  le'gs dear  a
friend as of more recent acquisition; and scarcely had we
returned from his funeral, . . though there also I speak figu-
ratively, because  I was unable to  attend from the continu-
ance of the same indisposition which kept me from joining
in the same  sad office to  my earlier friend, .  . when the
tidings  arrive of the  departure of  Dr.  Buchanan.   How
striking ! We are all involuntarily looking round and asking
with an inquiring eye, Who next, Lord!  Oh may the warn-
ings have  their  due  effect in rendering  us fit for  the sum-
mons.  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 enclose the half of a bank  note; the remainder  shall fol-
low.
                        Yours ever most sincerely,
                                 W. Wilberforce."

   These deep tones  of manly affection  are strikingly con-
trasted with his  lowly estimation of himself.   On Sunday,
Feb  12th,  he was at  Battersea Rise and received  the " Sa-
crament.   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 yester-
 day 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 bless-
 ed sentiments and  feelings."   To this friend he wrote two
 days later.  •

                   TO J. S. HARFORD, ESQ.
                              " Kensington Gore, Feb. 14, 1815.
 " Mv dear Sir,                             .     .,
    Even by those who think  and feel concerning the events 
396
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1815.
 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 hearts, as to make us love  our friends  bet-
 ter and feel more keenly for the whole of this life the loss of
 our former 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 indulge 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 glo-
 ry of God.   And Buchanan too  !  but,  I am silent.  . . ."

  Mr. Wilberforce would not listen to the more violent coun-
 sels of some of his coadjutors in the great work of Abolition.
" You," he tells Mr. Stephen, " are  full ten  degrees above
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 was the first move in this new
conflict; and  yet in this mildest  and most  necessary step,
the principle of all his later conduct was in fact involved. For
it was  in truth the appeal of the  slave population from  the
narrow-minded island legislatures to  the supreme  council of
the empire;  from the corrupted currents of Jamaica and
Barbadoes  to  English  sympathy and moral  feeling.  It  led 
1815.
CORN LAW RIOTS.
397
therefore to every after-effort for the mitigation of their suf-
ferings ; 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 ab-
stract rights;  and  they reached emancipation at last only
because it was the necessary conclusion of a series of practi-
cal 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 exhibited
strikingly during the period  at which  the public discontent
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 occasion.  " 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 agricul-
turist, 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. Wilber-
 force'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 hearing Mr. Wil-
 berforce'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 prin-
 ciple 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.   I 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 conciliate, 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 agree-
 ment with landed interest, &c.; so I prepared this morning
 and spoke, and though  I lost my notes, and forgot much I 
398
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1815.
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 interests 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 intimating 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 consequence of Mr. Whitbread's,
or rather of  Lord Castlereagh's, business  being put  off, to
despatch a letter to Aspeden.
  You did not mention,  I  think, the subject of your decla-
mation—I wish you had,  and shall be glad if you will 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 experience to be very diffident in
my speculations on  future events.   It is  however  an un-
speakable 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  executing,  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 appear-
ance, you would probably begin to think that we were ex-
pecting a visit from the ex-emperor and  his followers at
Kensington Gore, and had prepared a military force to repel
his assault. For you  would see four soldiers 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 
1815.
CORN LAW RIOTS.
399
fact is, that we had some  reason  to apprehend mischief for
our house, in consequence 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, rendering
an attack improbable.   But it  was a curious instance of the
rapid circulation of intelligence, that at Covent Garden mar-
ket  early on  Saturday morning, John Sharman, 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,) ' but
his house shall  pay for it.'  All  however is  hitherto quiet,
and I trust will continue so.  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 measure, (though thinking 76s. a pre-
 ferable importation price  to 80s.)  I  thought that  if I re-
 mained silent, many might say Mr. Wilberforce professes to
 trust in the  protection of God, but you  see when  there is
 danger to be apprehended from speaking out, he takes care
 to protect himself by being silent.  Again, I sometimes need
 parliamentary support for measures of a class not so popu-
 lar as some others, as missionary questions, or any others
 of a religious kind.  Now by coming forward and speaking
  mv mind  on the present occasion, I 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 ' providing
  things honest in the  sight of all men, and  of adorning the
  doctrine of God our Saviour.'   But observe, I was clear in
  mv 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
  rontare you not to be seduced into neglecting, curtailing, or
   hurry ng  over your  morning  prayers.  Of all things guard
   aganst neglecting God  in the closet.  There is nothing more
   feta  to theglife and power of religion ; nothing which makes
   God mo e certainly  withdraw His grace.   Farewell, my be- 
400
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1815.
 loved----, 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 quite
 quiet here, but sad accounts from France ; Buonaparte hav-
 ing got to Lyons, and Horner  anticipating the worst.  The
 soldiers (Scotch) behave  extremely well; they come in to
 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 enjoyed
 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 unprofitableness, 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, forgetting  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 received,
 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 concerning peace or war, ' having
 been  much  exercised  about conferring  with me' on that
 topic, wishing me ' to  become a fool that I might be  wise,'
 &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 
1815.
BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
401
his force and their  own.  Yet I greatly dread their being
deceived, remembering how Pitt was.   29th.  Wordsworth
the  poet breakfasted with us,  and walked 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 retire—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 Institu-
tion, 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 confi-
dence.   Got through pretty well, speaking an hour and fifty
minutes."
   Sunday, the 18th,  was spent at the parsonage of Taplow,
where his family had been staying  for a week.   It is de-
scribed 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 together 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 " re-
turned to London for Lord Roseberry's Divorce Bill,  reli-
gionis causa;" and almost the first  news which met  him
showed that his grateful reflections on the Sunday had been
uttered 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 battle," he
writes word to Taplow.  " British victorious ; but great loss.
Duke of Brunswick and Lord Errol's eldest son killed.  We
are said  to  have  lost 25,000, the French 50,000.  Oh my
                          34* 
402
life of wilberforce.
1815.
heart sickens at the scene !  Yet praise God for this wonder-
ful victory."
  On  Saturday, the 24th, he again plunged into the country,
but hastened back upon the Monday, for " the Duke of Wel-
lington'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  de-
spatches—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  engage-
ments, masked three fortresses, taken two ; but I 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 Registry  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 without a mingled
feeling of gratitude  and compassion.   I think of the priva-
tions  they suffer, and  of  the  dangers,  moral as  well  as
physical, to which they are exposed in our defence, while 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 beau-
ties 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 importance 
1815.
DEATH OF WHITBREAD.
403
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. Wilberforce,
and  read a first time. It had for some time  been determined
to carry it no further till another session.  A tragical event
marked painfully the conclusion of the session.  On the 6th,
and more fully  on  the 7th, he was " shocked to hear of Whit-
bread'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 im-
pulse must have been sudden. Are not such acts most probably
to be referred to the evil spirit's operation!" He found some
slight alleviation of these painful f?elings, 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 character of this rugged but manly
 statesman.  What a beautiful evidence of the "charity" which
 filled  his heart—the same Whitbread who  a few weeks pre-
 viously had "  reproached him  ill-naturedly" in  the House
 with being  ungrateful.
   After a tour through some of the southern and  western
 counties for the gratification of his eldest son, he settled with
 his  family at Brighton, not only for" the benefit of his own
 health, but  of that of Mrs. Henry Thornton, who died during
 his  sojourn there.  His  Diary  mentions his "reading  and
 praying" with  her, and  ultimately her death in a state of "so-
 ber triumph."   During his  separation 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 
404
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1815.
 anxieties we shall  be made partakers of that rest which  re-
 maineth 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—' 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, " I cannot even read during  the
 day all the letters which the morning's post has heaped upon
 me:  twice within the last few days I 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
 " 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.  " I at the Pavilion once.  The mi-
 nisters have been down with  the Prince for two or three days
 each.  Lord Sidmouth and Bathurst called  on me yesterday.
 Lord  Castlereagh before."   " The  Prince and Duke of Cla-
 rence too very civil.  Prince showed  he had read  Cobbett.
 Spoke strongly of the blasphemy of his late papers, and most
justly.   I was asked again last night, and to-night; but de-
 clined, not  being well." This excuse however would  not long
 serve, and three days afterwards  he was again " at the Pavi-
 lion—the Prince came up to me and reminded me of  my sing-
 ing at the Duchess of Devonshire's ball in 1782, of the parti-
 cular 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. Wilberforce  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 I might be brought forward." 
1815.        INTERCOURSE WITH PRINCE REGENT.         405

   " At night in coming away I opened to Bloomfield, very
 civilly as I am sure I ought, saying I felt  the Prince's kind-
 ness, 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 afterwards that Lord
 Ellenborough was asked to  Pavilion expressly to meet me.
 I was glad to hear it, as indicating that I was deemed parti-
 cular as to  my company."   Several times  in  the ensuing
 weeks 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."  " I 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 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 seldom  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 ribands, I could not have been treated
with more real, unaffected, unapparently condescending, and
therefore more unostentatious civility.  But, alas! still bet-
ter  reasons 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  I 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  baptismal
engagement to resist the pomps and vanities of this wicked 
406
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1816.
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 acquaintance!
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 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.  ' I 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 overflow with blessings."
  " 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."
  The year  1816  opened with a  storm of opposition well
fitted to try the firmness and ascertain the  reality  of his
principles.   " The stream runs  most strongly against  us.
Marryatt's violent and rude publication, Matthison's  more
fair, and Hibbert's well-timed one, all come  out  to meet us
at the first opening of parliament.  But how  vast is the in-
fluence 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-
ryatt's new pamphlet is extremely bitter against my religious
profession, thinking that nail will drive.  Poor fellow! 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
when they were daily repeated throughout years of patient
perseverance in efforts for the good of others; when  scan-
dalous insinuations were multiplied, and every day produced
a  new set of slanders of such an aggravated kind, that " if
they had been true," he  told the House of Commons, " no-
thing but a special Providence  could  have  prevented  my
being hanged full thirty years ago."  Yet he stood  the trial;
never in his most unguarded hours did he manifest any bit-
terness of feeling; never in public was he  led  into angry 
1816.
FEELINGS UNDER ABUSE.
407
recrimination.  Often did he provoke some of his  more im-
petuous  colleagues 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—" Every animal 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
ye has lived, and  to the authors with  whom he is conver-
sant."
  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 my faculties."  " It is a stroke which
I own 1 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 exer-
tions 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
claimants on his  time, and this year  they abounded, from
the tale  of ordinary  distress,  and  the  throng  of  "  break-
fasters," to the " Duke of Kent  who more than once called"
on  him " 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 sum-
mer 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.   " In how different
a congregation," he writes to his family on the first Sunday
he now spent at Bath, " have I been from that of Pakefield!
It reminded  me of the difference between  the twelve poor 
408
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1816.
fishermen, (I did not till now recollect that yours are literally
such,) who constituted 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 the Sunday, except 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 in-
habitants.  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 observed 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;
and if it indicate  a little  monstrosity, (as  they are  apt  to
give the collections of stars the names of strange creatures,
dragons, and bears,  &c.) the various parts of which the
Earlham assemblaget 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 sud-
denly 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 with their growth
and years.   Her affectionate admiration of her brother had
been rarely equalled, and affection was never wasted upon
him.  He had parted with her a few weeks before at Cam-
bridge,  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  Sun-
ning Hill. " On arriving I heard  that my sister had died yes-
terday at four o'clock. Poor Stephen much affected ! Liable

  * Joseph John Gurney's.
  t Amongst the "large party" at the dinner table he mentions the Bishop
of Norwich, Col. B. and Lady Emily, Mr. Buxton, Mr. Cunningham, Mr.
Hudson Gurney, &c. 
 1816.             mrs. Stephen's death.              409

 to strong paroxysms, at other times calm and pretty cheer-
 ful.   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 coffinwas adjusting below. How
 affecting all these things ; how little does the immortal spirit
 regard it! Looking at night, till near two o'clock this morn-
 ing, 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. reminds
 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 situation is so forci-
 bly 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 insensi-
 ble to her value, saw but little of her to maintain her affec-
 tion, and  of whom, alas, I could say much that might reason-
 ably have abated the force and cooled the warmth of her at-
 tachment.
  " 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 imagination 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 remember,  I mean  in contemplating the
 face of our dead friend to observe the fixed immovableness
 of the features.  Perhaps it struck me more in my sister's
 case because her countenance owed more of the effect it pro-
 duced to the play of features than to their formation.  I could
 not get  rid of the effect produced on me by this stiff and cold
 fixedness  for a  long time.  But oh it is the spirit, the inhabi-
 tant of the earthly tenement, not the tenement itself, which
 was the real object of our affection.  How unspeakably va-
 luable are the Christian doctrines and hopes in such circum-
 stances as ours! We should not  care much, if we believed
 that the object of our tender regard had  gone a few days be-
 fore 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 illus-
tration.  It is the reality.  The only drawback with me here
 is the consciousness that I have much to do for God, and the
                          35 
410
life of wilberforce.
1816.
 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  graciously forgive  my sins ; and
 that my all-merciful Saviour  will  take me to himself out of
 the same superabundant goodness,  which I  have ever expe-
 rienced.  For how true it  is, (I am often driven to this,)
 ' 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 whe-
 ther 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,  ' I am sure it  is not  all
 so.' "
   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 Kensington Gore.
 " Arrived safely D. G. at half-past ten at .Kensington Gore,  af-
 ter travelling above 700 miles without 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
r. West Indians to oppose the measure; and one and all cla-
 moured loudly against its  proposers.  All this tumult of ca-
 lumny passed over him almost unnoticed.  At times indeed
 he nearly roused himself to make some reply, lest they should
 occupy  the public mind, and prejudice his cause.  But there
 is really no trace of any personal feeling in any  of his en-
 tries.
   It was not merely cheerfulness of temper,  on which this
 calm was based, there was a deeper and more sure founda-
 tion for this high-minded peacefulness  under perpetual pro-
 vocation.  " I get more and  more to disrelish these brawl-
 ings, and to be less touchy as to my character.  This I fear
 is chiefly from advancing  years, and quiescence; something 
1817.
PERSONAL attacks.
411
from the decay of natural spirits, 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 Marryatt."   His an-
swer to one charge, that he had pledged himself not to inter-
fere with the condition of the slaves, deserves  to be record-
ed. " It is really true," he tells Mr. Stephen, " as I must one
day state, (I grieve at my not having answered Marryatt in
print; he very wisely never would enter into controversy 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 Abolition.   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 expressing  my  hopes that some  time or
other I  might  become the instrument of breaking, or at
least easing, the yoke of these poor creatures."
   The distresses of the country soon called him to his post;
and leaving his family at Hastings, he was  in town by the
opening of parliament 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 Provi-
dence,  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 sit-
ting up too late.   But do not  be uneasy,  I  am pretty  well.
Dear----asks about our Committee, though  he very pro-
perly checks himself.  We are not to divulge ; but thus much
I may say, though do not let it be repeated 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; but God will bless and keep us,
I fear not; and it is highly gratifying that all  the truly reli-
gious classes have nothing to do with the seditious proceed-
ings.   The blasphemous songs and  papers  of the seditious
will disgust all who have any religion, or any decency."
   So constant were at this time  the calls on his attention
that he assures Mr. Roberts, " you have perhaps supposed 
412
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1817.
that now I am no longer  member for Yorkshire I have as
much leisure as  I can desire for my own enjoyment and the
service of my friends.  If such was your surmise, 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
was as warm and free as  if his mind was never  burdened
by a single thought of business.  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
tenderness.  " Mr. R.'s last letter," he writes to Hastings
at this time, " suggests to me some very painful  fears that
----'s temper has been again ungoverned—dear,  dear boy.
Though  writing  at  the Committee  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 thou-
sand times God bless you all!"
  This was the great aim of his parental  watchfulness.  " 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."   " Above all, my dearest----," he writes  to one
of them on his tenth birth-day, " I 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 gar-
dener 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  they  are  becoming  ripe and
rosy.  I  would  willingly  walk  barefoot  from this  place"
(near London) " to Sandgate, 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
1  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. 
1817.
LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN.
413
" 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 fol-
lowing 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 in-
terest,  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  1 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 feeling towards you  on a Saturday night, because  it
serves as  a preparation for that more continued mental in-
tercourse with you in which I allow  myself on the Sunday.
When I was a bachelor, and lived  alone, I used to  enliven
the dulness of a  solitary Sunday dinner by mustering my
friends around me in idea, and considering how I could be-
nefit any of them; and now how can there be a more suit-
able employment of a part of the Lord's day, than  thus  to
call my absent children round  me!  And  you,----, and
____t  will  present  yourselves to-morrow; and I shall pray
that our great heavenly Shepherd will number you amongst
the sheep of His  pasture, and guide you at last into His fold
above."                                             ,.
   Many of these letters are highly indicative  of his peculiar
 character of mind, from their cheerfulness subsiding  into  se-
 rious thought  as affection stirred the deeper current of his
 feelings.   Thus  to one of  his younger sons he writes trom
 London.
                                       " House of Commons.

 "^tate^aTvTn'tage 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
 hov's voice and  see his countenance.   Yesterday  was  the
 fiS timeof my going to Kensington Gore. I  had no comfort
 fhee  but many qualms of emptiness when you were al
 Lwav ana only  vacant places to remind me of the want of
   ^n7' l hone Mr  L. told  you that I had tried to get  your
 Ct'ch men'ded  nHme to" go down to  you  by him, but in
 vain   A  broken  limb  is not so easily repaired, especially 
414
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1817.
when it is required that  the party shall go as he did before.
I am sorry to hear that the substitute  you have is liable to
occasional headaches.  I hope you will bear this in mind in
your treatment of. it,.aijd., not let  it be stunned or stupified
through carelessness.
  My very dear boy, I received no little pleasure  from the
account which Mr. 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
that trust in Him.  Try to bring on your brother in all good,
ever remembering my advice not to be satisfied with not being
unkind, but trying to be positively kind.   Above all remem-
ber 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.  No-
thing grieves 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.  May God bless and keep
you, my very dear boy. I 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. Wilberforce."

  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 com-
 pany, dear fellow, so that it  is a great pleasure to him I be-
 lieve, 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.
 ' I  hope  from your mention of C.  that I  was mistaken in re-
 presenting him  to  be in a dangerous state of health.  Yet
 when I saw him, I could not  but  fear that  he was not long 
1817.         WISH TO SUPPORT GOVERNMENT.          415
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  which is at once inexpressibly
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 concerning 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 dictum of the great Bacon's holds true in my instance;
for this  eulogy on the expression of my dear friend's counte-
nance 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 some-
 thing 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. Wilberforce."

   The inquiries of the Secret  Committee disclosed a fearful
 extent and degree of disaffection.   " You and I agree," he
 wrote to Mr. Macaulay before he came to town, " in esteem-
 ing it to be  the duty of every good subject to support govern-
 ment when  he  can.  But then I own I feel  that to draw on
 ourselves the ill-will, and worse than neutrality, of opposition
 on  all West Indian questions, when we cannot have govern-
 ment as our friends, is to act in  a  way,  which though it
  mio-ht  become our duty if the ship were in danger of going
  down, is not to be expected from us unless in such cr.tica
  circumstances.  I  have  again and again been silent when I
  should I ave spoken against the democrats, and even opposi-
  tionits more especially against party, but for the conscious-
  ness that I had to look  to the opposition rather than to go-
  vernment, as our  supporters in the Registry BUI and * est

  InThe ^tted  aspect of the times now so far suspended
  theL  ordina y motives, that he prepared to take an active
  part in"strengthening the hands of the executive. 
416
LIFE of wilberforce.
1817.
  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. Wilberforce to Lon-
don  on the summons of the friends who watched anxiously
the inroads it was making on his feeble  constitution ;  but
after about three weeks,  the cough, which  was its  worst
symptom, yielded to medical treatment, and on the Uth 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
suppression, " 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 ar-
ranged any order of thought, and I argued it too  much on
the ground of its  effects,  though  not  omitting higher con-
siderations, but  not enough introducing  God's providence
and will, (in the way wherein alone proper there,) and sub-
jecting 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, delibe-
rately, 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 im-
patient,  but perfectly submissive  and resigned—what a tri-
umph 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 heallhful play of a vigorous
mind, he entered readily into the  joke. " I was surveying
the breach with a cautious and inquiring eye, when Lady D„ 
1817.
SECRET committee.
417
no shrimp you must observe, entered boldly before me, and
proved that it was practicable."
   Urging one of his children to steady application—" You
cannot conceive," he says, " with what pleasure I look for-
ward to the time when you will be able to engage  in plans
for the improvement and happiness 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 himself as a clerk in a warehouse,
and  yet busying himself for these poor people, that I could
not  help  becoming answerable for the iB20 he wanted for
them, if I could  not get it from the Distressed Foreigners'
Institution."
   The aspect of the times was again  clouded over.   " At
Bablngton's,  the  window being open,  we  heard a shout,
which we soon found was produced  by Watson's acquittal.
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 deliberations, in vain endeavouring,
on the 18th, " to get Ponsonby and Lord Milton to agree to
the Report; they decidedly 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 Corpus
Act was proposed by government.   Mr. Wilberforce reluc-
tantly supported what he deemed an unavoidable severity.
His freedom from all party spirit gave a weight to his decision,
which was keenly felt by opposition.   Sir  Samuel  Romilly
directed  all  his powers  of eloquence and  reasoning to take
off the effect of so unimpeachable a judgment; and another
member  in a different  strain attacked  him warmly on the
third reading  with an  unworthy  sarcasm  aimed at his re-
ligious work.  " The honourable and religious member," as 
418
life of wilberforce.
1817.
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 that 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 welfare of the community
depends! 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 destruc-
tion of those institutions which we  both profess to revere, I
will tell  him what instrument I would choose.   I  would
take a man  of great wealth, of patrician family, of personal
popularity, 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  malevolent
purpose of destroying their liberties  and happiness."
   His Diary simply states, " B. forced me up in  self-defence,
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 I hear a speech which  carried its
audience more completely with  it,  or was listened to with
such  breathless attention."  " 1 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 instruc- 
1817.
POWER OF SELF-DEFENCE.
419
tive than the  knowledge that he at  all times possessed this
ready power of self-defence.  " If there is any one," said
Mr.  Canning, " who understands thoroughly the tactics of
debate, and knows exactly what will carry the House along
with him, it certainly is my  honourable  friend the  member
for Bramber."
   The first few  weeks of  the recess were  spent by  Mr.
Wilberforce in clearing off  the unavoidable accumulations
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 con-
stant attendance on the death-bed of a near connexion.
   " 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 mili-
 tary 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 artillery, and the  bustle of  war
 has excited all the passions.   She has long been  her  mo-
 ther'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 bless-
 ings  ' 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 
420
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1817.
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  com-
plete  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 ex-
clamation, ' How good it is to dwell together in unity  !'   It
is in short a heaven  upon earth.  May  we realize it  here,
from its being the reflection  from the better and less imper-
fect  state of  it beyond the mountains.   Kindest remem-
brances to all common friends, and believe me ever,
              Your  affectionate and sincere friend,
                                    W.  Wilberforce."

   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 believing."  His earlier
Journals contain, as has been  seen, records of hard strug-
gles with " divers temptations ;" but the power of  the ene-
my had been long since rebuked;  and after the  most  close
and jealous self-examination he could humbly say, " I prefer
spiritual to carnal pleasures, and never suffer any thing sen-
sual 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  insensibility to
them.  Surely God has always blessed me in all things, both
great and small, in a degree almost unequalled,  and never
suffered me  materially to fail when there has been an occa-
sion 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 
1817.
HIS HAPPY TEMPER.
421
some new motives  for thankfulness  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.   ' It reminds me,' said he, as we
admired its  beauty,  ' of the dispensations of Divine Provi-
dence 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 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 dis-
cordant  jarring;  all sweetness without the  slightest  aces-
cency."
  There was no obtrusive display of such emotions.   True
Christian joy is for the most  part a secret as well as a se-
rene 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 uni-
formly cheerful than most men of his time of life. Closer ob-
servation 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
happiness; 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 session,"  he says, " I met again
L0rd____, whom I had known when we were both young,
                           36 
422
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1817.
but of whom I had lost sight for many years.  He was just
again returned to parliament,  and we were locked up toge-
ther 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, were pretty well acquainted
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 incredulous voice, and a look of wonder-
ing dejection, which I  never can forget."  " You must allow
that Mr. Wilberforce 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 dul-
ness.  " Yes," she said in a tone intended to convey re-
proach,  " 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  mar-
vellous sobriety in his  religion. His secret  records of humili-
ation are aimed  at specific  faults, and do not waste  them-
selves in generalities.   "How sad," he says on one of these
occasions, " 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  who addict  them-
selves 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 inherit-
ance 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
themselves upwards, though against my judgment, which at
the  very moment  condemns  them, and  yet  my heart then
claims credit for this condemnation ! Oh the corruption and
deceitfulness of the heart!"
   The same sober judgment watched over his hours of un-
usual religious joy. "  Let me  put down," he says this month,
" that I  have had of late a greater degree of religious feeling 
1817.
SOBRIETY OF HIS RELIGION.
423
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 I 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  w ith
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 oppor-
tunities, I have been a sadly unprofitable servant.   Pardon
me, O Lord; quicken,  soften,  warm, invigorate me, and en-
able me  to  rise from my torpor, and to imitate the example
of holy Paul, doing this one thing, forgetting the things be-
hind, 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 visita-
tion, when with the motive  of  Christ's speech, (Matt. xxv.
40,) I attend to whole classes and masses  of them, yet indi-
vidual 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-treat-
ment 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  syste-
matic discipline. He kept a most strict watch over his heart.
He still recorded by a  set of secret marks the results of fre-
quent and close self-examination under a number of specific
heads.   He used every help he  could  devise for keeping al-
ways 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 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. 
424
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1817.
          HUMILIATION, MEANS OF, AND TOPICS FOR,

   " Consider—all my motives and just causes for gratitude;
 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 charac-
 ter.  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 to-
 wards 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-com-
 placency 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
 indignation 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 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, self-
ishness !   (Yet, alas! justice to myself requires  my adding
how ill-treated here.)  Time, talents, substance, &c. wasted,
and shocking goings-on (Christianity considered): and after
the revellings over, as egregious waste  of faculties  and
means among the fellows ; card-playing, &c.   Consequent
course of living almost without God in the  world, till God's
good providence  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, 
1817.
STANSTED.
425
sometimes only preserved from gross sin and shame by pre-
venting grace.  And, alas !  even till now how little progress,
how little of the Divine nature, how little spirituality either
in heart or life, how little of a due adorning of the doctrine
of God  my  Saviour!   How much vanity and undue solici-
tude about  human estimation !   (Oh if transparent here!)
Procrastination, inefficiency, self-indulgence,  living  below
principles and rules.   Contrast all this with my almost un-
equalled mercies  and  blessings.   And remember God and
Christ  foreknow  all  thy ingratitude.   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.
  " I find it  one of the best means  of gaining self-abhorrence,
after such reflection as  above delineated,  to consider and
press home  what I should  think  and feel about another fa-
voured in all respects as myself, who should be such in  all
particulars as I am in point of sins, negligences, weaknesses,
neglect  and  misuse  of talents, dec.;  and then contrast my
sins with my mercies, my service with my motives, my obli-
gations  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, "read-
ing 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 al-
most as much as giving such proofs of friendship; 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 libraries, even of the sanctum sancto-
rum.  We  of course  tried to do as little harm  as possible.
Though at  first I thought we must have gone away on ac-
count  of the housekeeper's bad temper, which sadly effer-
vesced."
   Haytian  business now  much  engrossed him.  His first
                          36* 
426
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1817.
consent 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 pros-
pects  dawning upon Hayti will prevent his yielding 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 exaggerated estimate
of the  interest of the  cause.   " Were I five-and-twenty,"
Sir Joseph Banks wrote to him asking for Haytian informa-
tion, " 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 beings  emerging  from slavery, and
making most rapid  strides towards  the perfection of civili-
zation, must I think be the  most delightful of all food for
contemplation."
  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 country-
men.   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
every where abound in truly elevated plans.   " He  has re-
quested me," Mr. Wilberforce tells Mr.  Stephen, " to get for
him seven schoolmasters, a tutor for his son, and seven dif-
ferent professors for a Royal College  he  desires  to found.
Amongst these are a classical  professor, a medical, a surgi-
cal, a  mathematical, and a pharmaceutical chemist."  He
entered warmly into Christophe's views.   " Oh how I wish
I was not too old, and you not too busy to go!" he writes to
Mr. Macaulay.  " It would  be a noble undertaking to be
sowing in such a soil the seeds of  Christian and moral im-
provement, 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, " to witness
before I die in this and so many other instances, the  streaks 
1817.
HAYTI.
427
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 was with this end
especially that he undertook this new charge.  " Christophe
is not himself, I fear," he says, " governed by religious prin-
ciples," but he was  ready to admit  and ever to uphold reli-
gion.  " I have succeeded," he tells  Mr. Hey, " in finding a
physician, but I still want a surgeon, and much  more a  di-
vine.  Oh what would I give for a clergyman who should
be just such as I could approve  !"
  He wrote  at  once to Mr. Simeon, to bespeak  his assist-
ance in this search.
  " 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  actually
sailed, ' more last words' are continually occurring.   And I
find this Haytian connexion will by no means be an encou-
ragement 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 Abolition business has always
appeared to me to call for the most lively gratitude.  Indivi-
duals who are not in parliament seldom have an opportunity
of doing good to considerable 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  Humphrey
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 extensive usefulness, and less bitterly
contentious, till Mr. Marryatt entered the field, than the walks
of politics!   In  this Haytian instance, we  are  sowing  the
seeds of civilization and knowledge  in a new  society, which
(may it please God) you may live to see exhibiting the new
spectacle 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 showing them to any confi- 
428
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1817.
dential 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 at-
titude.
  " My dearest  boy, remember my counsel.  If you come
into parliament, let me earnestly entreat  you not to expend
yourself in speechifying on questions of grand political or ra-
ther 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 your-
self some specific object, some line of usefulness.  Make your-
self 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 useful-
ness 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 inte-
rested  as in  finding proper people for Christophe, especially
a tutor for his son."  This was no easy task. When he first
began the work  he had received no  remittances  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 mo-
ney might not be ill spent. . but"  he scarcely knew what to
promise others.  Soon however he was intrusted with a con-
siderable sum, which " proved  Christophe to be in earnest;"
and he was able to offer 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 Indies ;—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 re-
volution,  would risk the  fortunes or the lives of these  his
stranger  guests.
  Patiently and  perseveringly  did Mr. Wilberforce struggle
against all these difficulties, not only corresponding largely 
1817.         DEATH OF PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.           429

with all quarters from which he might gather the assistance
he required, but receiving both at " Kensington 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 permanently injured.
  He had  now returned into the neighbourhood of London,
after spending a few days at Wood Hall 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 no-
thing."  " 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 for-
bearing 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, that Princess Char-
lotte 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 ungrati-
fied—surely this is too much to last.'  The loss most deeply
felt; their  life had been  truly exemplary—charitable, unos-
tentatious 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  mer-
cy, 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 acces-
sible and put down some notes for it:  byt 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 precious  promises, 2 Cor. vi. at the 
430
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1818.
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 opposition 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 inquiries 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 pri-
vate memoranda," was and is, to produce by Abolition a dis-
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, too 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 practical and cautious cha-
racter 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 grant-
ing to the slave, such civil rights, as should bring him under
the protection of just and equal laws, and make him a  mem-
ber of the commonwealth 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 ex-
hibited as by free extracts from  the private Diary in which
they are recorded  at the  moment,  mingled with  the  inter-
vening  objects which filled up his time.
  " You can tell me,"  he  writes to Mr. Grant, " how best,
if at all,  I can  serve General Boyd, whose memorial I will
enclose.  Dr. Morse, of the United  States, a warm friend of
this country, and I hope, a  pious,  active man, has recom-
mended to me this General  Boyd,  and  his fellow-traveller,
Mr.  Storer, a tutor  of one of their colleges ; and I wish, if I 
1818.          FEELINGS TOWARD AMERICANS.          431

can, to show gratifying attention to Dr.  M.'s  recommenda-
tion.  I am clear, that we ought to endeavour by personal
and individual civilities to Americans, to cultivate the good-
will, and mitigate the prejudices and jealousy,  of the people
of that country.   I trust true religion is increasing there."
  " 28th.  I  am still in no little embarrassment what course
to pursue as to the West Indian question.   The denuncia-
tions  not only against those who are guilty of the  positive
acts of oppression, but against those who connive at its con-
tinuance, 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 im-
pressed by Mr. Buxton's book  on our prisons, and  the  ac-
count of Newgate reform.   What lessons are taught by Mrs.
Fry's success!  I  am still warmed by the account.  Were I
young, I should instantly give notice of the business, if  no
one else did.
  " April  1st. Mr. Storer,  and Everitt, Americans, break-
fasted.  Latter  Greek professor in their  Cambridge Uni-
 versity."
  "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  de-
gree  the character of Christians, but none of those urgent
admonitions and  warnings, which Scripture contain,  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 resolution,  which given  me to second.   All
circumstances  considered .. my having  been canvassed  by
the Archbishop himself, my being suspected,  though falsely,
of loose attachment  to  the Church because I do not hate
Dissenters .. 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."
  " 10th.  Determined  to  come in again  for Bramber, at 
432
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1818.
least for two  years, under  some  strange  circumstances.
Thus Providence seems to fashion my ways, and if I should
go entirely out of public life in two years, I hope to have pre-
viously sown the seeds and laid the foundation of the West
Indian  reform.  I shall then, if I live, be sixty as much  as
most men's seventy.   But my times, O 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 disinterested, and kind, and generous.  Babing-
ton 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!  I remem-
bered Christ's rising long before day, and got up. Babington
sent me a kind letter, warning me of H.'s excessive and vin-
dictive  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 Bahamas 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  to-
wards 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, ' Lord, be Thou my surety for good.'  How many are
the passages in the Psalms which give comfort under the  as-
saults of  unreasonable and  violent men !   How strongly
have I  felt the double man within me to-day !  I  really  de-
spise and abhor myself for the rising of thoughts referring to
human estimation ;   which nevertheless 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 was now leaving the neighbourhood of London. " The
quiet of this place,"  he says at Elmdon on the 17th of July,
" is quite delightful after  all our bustle.   The colour of  the
ground  is  quite changed by yesterday's delightful rain."
His spirit expanded amidst rural sights and sounds, and  his
heart overflowed with thankfulness to the  Giver  of all  his
mercies.   He longed to teach all around him  his own song
of gratitude, and could scarcely bear  its absence.   " Most 
1818.
LETTER FROM SOUTHEY.
433
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 !"
" Alas, poor G., from spending all his time in hunting and
farming, is grown empty and stupid."
   He was  now halting at Elmdon on his way towards the
 Lakes.   " There are two places," he had said in earlier life,
 " 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
 " 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.   " I
 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 grand-
 mother's chamber window—warm weather for polemical
 writing ; and yet little as such writing is to my taste, I have
 been employed in it  for the last week.  B., with his usual
 indiscretion, thought fit to attack me from the hustings.  It
 was  wholly unprovoked, as I had taken no part whatever in
 the election, and every thing which he said  of me was un-
 true.   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.   " The  heat  of  the
 summer is checked, and we are enjoying 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
                            37 
434
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1818.
time of relaxation.  Leaving Elmdon on the 10th, he reached
Seafbrth 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  Provi-
dence favoured us, that no accident.  Praise the Lord, O my
soul.
  " 12th.  Morning and evening  prayers.  How gratifying
that we have some Christian merchants !   Most kind treat-
ment.   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 fare-
well to Windham.—' 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 awake; not so much from direct distress as from
its  being  so  interesting that it occupies the mind, and the
effort of thought which  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 Journal, " 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 the full burst
of thankfulness 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 painfully remind
him of the son whom he has lost."
  " 5th. I took a two hours' walk by Rydale and Grasmere,
and a good deal  tired."  It was not a little affecting 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 
1818.
VISIT TO LAKES.
435
through all  the  bustling scenes of an unquiet life with the
simplicity  of early tastes and affections unimpaired, pointing
out to his children every well-remembered beauty, and teach-
ing by them golden precepts 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, " as much as
any one, my dear, but we must remember we are not sent
into the world merely to  admire prospects and enjoy sce-
nery.  We  have nobler objects of pursuit.  We are  com-
manded to imitate Him, who came  not to be ministered un-
to,  but to  minister.  It doubles my own enjoyment to see my
dear children  enjoy these scenes with me; and now and
then when we need rest from severe labours, it may be per-
mitted 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 enjoyment till we 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 for any
vagarious wanderings,  but whenever I do extend my walk,
as  to-day, for  instance,  when I was seduced 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 ser-
mon at cantering or rather galloping pace ; he preached last
 Sunday a sad trifling sermon  on repairing Chester cathe-
 dral ;  and before that, one chiefly taken from  Hall's on  the
 Princess  Charlotte, utterly unintelligible to the bulk of his
 hearers.  He dined with us, and I was sorry to find he alrea-
 dy knew Cooper's Practical  Sermons.   I  hoped they would
 have approved themselves to him—but alas !  In the after.
 »oon I walked to two or three cottages, and talked on rail. 
436
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1818.
gion to the people."  His fervent spirit could scarce be con-
tained in the full sight of such a state of things. " Our popu-
lation," 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 comprehen-
sive sin of omission to answer for. The next generation 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 influence, 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 to
you, were it only to satisfy the feelings which are daily pro-
duced 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 consi-
der as addressed to ourselves the injunction  of Holy Scrip-
ture, ' Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy
God led thee these forty years !' but there the parallel ceases,
for the passage goes on, ' 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 would  be
presumptuous enough to request.  You may conceive on re-
flection what interesting recollections are called forth in my
breast, when I recall to mind the scenes we visited, the ob-
jects which then engaged our minds, the conversation which
passed between  us, (I am  now  within a very few  miles of
Wastdale Head, the valley in which we slept, or rather pass-
ed 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
continual bounty of the great Ordainer of all things !  What
reason have I to adopt the language of the  psalmist,' Surely 
1818.
SOUTHEY.
437
goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my
life !'  I cannot  but  add,  Oh that my gratitude were more
commensurate with the vast and unceasing  kindness and
long-suffering (for long-suffering also I must add) of my un-
wearied Benefactor ! But how I am running on  ! I have abun-
dantly proved the truth of the  remark with which I opened,
that I was stimulated to write  to you by my feelings alone.
Farewell, my dear friend, and believe me,
             Yours sincerely  and affectionately,
                                   W.  Wilberforce."

  Another letter, dated the same day, is an instance of 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 Doddridge'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  (Edwards  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. Wilberforce."

   " Spent the following week at Keswick—visited Southey,
who very pleasing, light as a bird in body, and  till the loss of
his son, I bear 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 breakfast) to poetry, another to his-
tory, and so on.  His History  of Brazil is that to which he
looks for fame.   He is kind, hospitable, generous, virtuous,
and  I hope, religious, but too hasty in his judgments, and
too rash in politics.  Hence he would be a dangerous coun-
sellor though an able defender."
   .< R  and S. got to Rydale  on Thursday night, and are
staving 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
                          37* 
438
life of wilberforce.
1818.
school.  I called on  them and gave them £2 for it, and en-
couraged them.  The vicar would not join though they are
churchwomen.  I was much inclined 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 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 reli-
gious good overbear at once all other considerations."
  " 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 all other times;  and certainly I
never saw any other man who seemed to enjoy such a  per-
petual 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 was with a benign  and
easy  disposition, the crown of all his  blessings  was that
inward and undisturbed peace  which  passeth all  under-
standing.
  " I 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 concerning
the horses had been  neglected, and your father  with  a  little
start of surprise, replied, ' that indeed he had not thought of
it.'   ' No!' said the  coachman, and ' 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 no-
thing 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 neigh-
bourhood of London he  was preparing to make an effort in
their favour at  the approaching Congress at Aix la Chapelle;
and urged Mr.  Stephen " to prepare something for Lord Cas-
tlereagh's  perusal while yet in  this country, to  which  we 
1818.
HAYTIAN PROFESSORS.
439
may refer, and which may predispose him to the cause of
Hayti."
  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 I long to wean him from his hanker-
ing 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. Wilberforce 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 understand-
ing or principles of its author."
  His own share meanwhile in these counsels was often full
of perplexity.  His correspondence with Christophe and his
ministers  was sufficiently  laborious ; and the general super-
intendence  of the  emigrants to Hayti,  was  sure to cause
him disappointment and annoyance. Parties  must be chosen
from all ranks of life—professors for the  royal college, physi-
cians  and divines, governesses for the  royal daughters, tu-
tors for his sons, down to ordinary teachers of a common
school, and " two ploughmen and their ploughs and fami-
lies."   They went into a land where the whole tone of so-
ciety was  utterly demoralized, and  vice in  no degree dis-
graceful; and though he inquired most cautiously,  scruti-
nized 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 dissoluteness and disease; whilst the few who  la-
boured 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 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. Wilber-
 force from Cambridge—" I thank God  I  am  arrived  at this
 place in safety, making up  near 350 miles which I have tra- 
440
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1818.
veiled, full 100 of them at night, without 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 an-
niversary of the day on which I experienced that notable es-
cape 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 eve-
ning, 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 awray.   However I will not open any chapter of griev-
ances this day, and I am ready to burn what I have written,
on account of its being in any other strain than that of thank-
fulness. Oh what cause for gratitude have I: no man surely
so great, at least very few ! My spirits are not in themselves
so cheerful as they used to be, but it  is one of my  many
mercies that they are so good as they are.   I suppose the
mental sky of every one has its ' 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.   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,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  On the 24th of December he was again  at Kensington,
surrounded by his scattered 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 forward 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." 
1819.
GREAT HUMILITY.
441
   "Jan. 15th.  What is it to have our views spiritual when
 we 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 con-
 duct, " and I beg you to join my dear and  excellent 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 de-
 caying memory.  Poor  dear  Babington!  I  miss him often
 in this way."
   These were not  idle words.  In presenting on the 9th of
 February a petition  from the  Quakers against the  severe
 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  Chris-
 tian-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  away 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
 unaccountably, 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 ex-
tremely 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 pre 
442
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1819.
venting 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.  I 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."
  Though he would not undertake the conduct of this cause,*
his Diary will show that he  gave to  it what time he could.
" March 2d.  House.  Mackintosh  on Capital Punishments.
He spoke  admirably.  I very middling.   4th.  With Lord
Lansdown  to Rush, to talk over Slave Trade being made pi-
racy by England first . . United States to follow our exam-
ple . . or to propose our doing it conjointly.  He, as I antici-
pated, clearly  preferred the former.  Canistered.t and  to
House."
   " April 2d. Saw various characters in the morning.  Then
to Committee on  Criminal Law.   Then to Grattan's about
three—Plunket, Newport, Tierney,  Abercrombie, Brougham,
Mackintosh, &c.  We agreed about Roman Catholic Motion
—then to a meeting of the Berbice  Commissioners."
   " May 2d. Sunday morning,  Gerard Noel—evening, Mr.
Matthias from Dublin, a most striking preacher.  Lady  O.
and M., and an infant schoolmaster dined—the  Barrys with
us.  Alas ! I quite shrink from the  week X  that is before me.
Well, God has graciously supported me hitherto, and still let
me trust in Him.   I know not what to make of this hurrying
residence ;  my continuance here claims my most serious con-
sideration."
   It was from the prominent part always allotted him on
these occasions that he so greatly shrunk. No man ever attend-
ed them with a simpler or more fervent spirit, or entered there-
fore 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 duly estimated, 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 poor-
est, repenting, earthly sinner, do participate in  the joy and
thankfulness which are called forth in our Christian assem-
blies, in hearing of the general diffusion of the word of God,
and  of the labours, and sufferings,  and blessed be God the

  * Revision of Penal Laws.
  t Another entry may serve as a comment upon this expression. " Eat cold
meat from canister; as good a dinner as can be desired."
   t Anniversaries of Religious Societies. 
1819.               PUBLIC MEETINGS.                443
triumphs also, of those zealous missionaries who are devot-
ing their lives in distant lands to the service of their Divine
Master."
  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 re-
turned 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, "the effect of a short speech of his
upon my own mind.  He was alluding to some natural diffi-
culties which  had  impeded  the success of missions, which
ought not to discourage us ;  for nature seemed often, as well
as  man, to  fight   against St.  Paul.  He was not merely
' scourged  with rods,' but 'thrice he suffered shipwreck.'
The tone, the manner, the voice in which he brought out this
simple thought was so overpowering, that I went home with
it ringing in my ears for days."
   The bustling week to which he was looking forward began
upon the 3d of May, with " Breakfasted Dr. Hamilton (Irish)
Owen, Mons. Kieffer from Paris,  Mons. De Solles, (stating
the friendly disposition 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.
   " 4th. Church Missionary  anniversary.   Dear  Lord Gam-
 bier in the chair, and closed  with a hymn 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 ably.   I drawing up Canning, the debate became lively
 and warm.  Poor Canning—how grievous 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!
    " 5th. Several  breakfasters.   Bible  Society anniversary
 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  ac-
 knowledged it very handsomely.  It  is a sad proof of the
 low moral tone  of the world, that people  in general say, 
444
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1819.
' 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 Han-
nah More, " to hear one of twelve speeches in ten days."
The wonder is how with his feeble health he stood such con-
stant  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 the  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 waiting
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  per-
mits ;") but showing even in their fair and legible characters
how  much he consulted  the feelings  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
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 now it is quite gratifying to  exchange a salu-
tation with you on paper, though but for a  minute or two.
The sight of my hand-writing will call forth in my dear affec-
tionate ----all those images of parental and family tender-
ness,  with which the Almighty  permits us to be refreshed,
when children  and parents  are far  separated  from each
other.   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
• Aged 13. 
1819.
LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN.
445
 to  His service in His appointed way.  0  my dearest boy,
 pray in earnest;  guard  against  formality  in prayer.   En-
 deavour 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 dis-
 position to deny yourself.   But I 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. Wilberforce."

                      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 disappointed 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.   Mercifully 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-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 wrell.   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. Wilberforce."

                      TO THE SAME.

 " My dearest----,
  I have not either time or eyesight 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 dimensions, 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 
446
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1819.
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 motives; by  a
desire of  pleasing God  and showing his  gratitude 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 election
sure; we  shall never again be in the  storm, but remain 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 addressing one of my absent
children, because loving them so dearly I am naturally drawn
into the discussion of those topics in  which their best inte-
rests 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 shoul-
der 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 the 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. Wilberforce."

   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.
   At the Deanery at Wells, where he stayed, some time dur- 
1819.
DEATH OF PATTY MORE.
447
ing an excursion made in the  recess of Parliament, his at-
tention was much occupied by the affairs of Hayti.   " I un-
derstand that the C.s have resolved to go there, and I own I
am glad of it.  It absolves me from all  responsibility, while
it obtains for Hayti the services of people,  who I hope may
be useful, though I dare not in conscience rely on the mo-
rality 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 Ste-
phen, I cannot tell you how  deeply I  feel the not having
taken more pains to promote  the  religious and  moral  im-
provement 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, who delighteth
in mercy through the atonement and intercession of our great
Mediator and Advocate,  while I am at the same time sup-
plied with  the most powerful of all motives, gratitude and
generous shame, to exert myself with augmented earnest-
ness  for the time to come.   I wish beyond measure you
could help me  in getting some  schoolmistresses, and also
some missionaries, though the latter must be men of uncom-
mon prudence and moderation.
   " We stay here D. V. till Monday se'nnight, and then I be-
lieve shall  fix for a week or so at Malvern.  Oh 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 produced 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 hours after our parting for the
 night, she  had  been taken ill."   She  lingered for about a

    His various wanderings are pleasantly retraced in a letter
 to another friend. " My summer, which began late, has been 
448
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.             1819.
 spent almost entirely with various friends;—the  Noels, at
 my old haunt of Barham Court, near to which you once en-
 dured 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 romantic and beautiful seat, Blaize Castle, of my friend
 Mr.  Harford; and afterwards a fortnight with  the Bishop 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 counte-
 nance, and sparkling in every eye.  He practically remem-
 bers the motto of  old Archbishop Usher's seal ring—Vae
 mihi si non  evangelizavero.   On the week-days he visits dif-
 ferent country parishes, whence the income of his  deanery
 is derived, and  collects round him as crowded congregations
 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 moun-
 tains (not quite Himalayans)  without 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 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  po-
 pular disturbance had occurred in the manufacturing districts.
 " Let me beg you," he asks a friend at Sheffield, " when you
 write to give me all the information you can concerning the
 state of mind of your lower orders, and particularly whether
the religious part of your community has in these trying times
been acting worthy of its high calling.  I declare my great- 
 1819.      EFFORTS TO PROMOTE PUBLIC PEACE.         449

 est cause of difference with the  democrats, is their laying,
 and causing the people to lay, so great  a stress on the con-
 cerns 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 I 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 toomuch reason to fear that the
 enemies  of our political  constitution were  also enemies to
 our religion."   " Heretofore they inveighed against the in-
 equality  of property, and used every artifice to alienate the
 people from the constitution of their country.  But now they
 are sapping the foundations of the social edifice more effect-
 ually by attacking Christianity.   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 forcibly
 the cause of order.  He  arraigned the  irreligious spirit of
 this new morality, proved that the bar of the Houoe of Com-
 mons was the most  improper  place for  an inquiry into the
 behaviour of the  magistrates,  and turning  upon those who
 showed some inclination to reap  a factious triumph from the
 sufferings of their country—" Can there be one man here,"
 he asked, "  who does not from his heart lament these trans-
 actions !  If there  be, it  must be one who has learned to
 look to civil war and slaughter 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 lan-
 guage 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 preservation of the
public peace."
   " We are in a state of almost combustion," he complains
                           38* 
450
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1819.
amidst nightly contentions, " which does not suit me as well
as it did thirty years ago—
                     ' Calidus juventi,
                         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 Psalm, in great  comfort."
His learning this whole psalm 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  materially 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 Gloucester there,  and
Lord Lansdown.  Then House—Lord  John  Russell's  mo-
tion.  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 Mas-
ter who takes the will for the deed. "
  " Several press me stronglyto bring forward a committee
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  I right in voting against
him."  He was no advocate for " a system  of morals or in-
struction not founded on religion."  " They would exclude,"
he complains of such instructors, " religion  from life, and
substitute knowledge  in its  stead."  " It is only  by educa-
ting our people in Christian principles,  that we  can hope to
advance in strength, greatness, and happiness.  By their ef- 
1820.
PARENTAL AFFECTION.
451
ficacy alone can we 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 upon 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 HI. suspended public busi-
ness, and dissolved the parliament. Mr. Wilberforce's spring
passed  in its usual  employments, marked only by two do-
mestic features; the marriage of his eldest son, and the lin-
gering and fatal illness of his early friend, Dean  Milner, of
Carlisle.  He came to Kensington Gore, to attend  as usual
on the Board of Longitude; and after five weeks of suffer-
ing 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 pub-
lic, 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 memo-
 randa of a friend, who was  at this time a frequent inmate in
 his family.   At the close of one of his days of hurry, per-
 haps after the stormy contests  of the House of Commons,
 « between twelve and one o'clock he  heard that his daugh-
 ter, 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 bo-
 som to warm  and cherish  them.   Then he applied this to
 our blessed Saviour; 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, indi-
 cating 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 
452
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1820.
 he " went down to Paul's Cray, honest Simons's, where a
 great party at his school fete.  Gerard Noel gave us a beau-
 tiful 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 contri-
 bution  to  the common  stock of conversation and enjoy-
 ment ;" and wherever the group was the most crowded and
 attentive, he was sure to be found its centre.  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.  '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!  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  today, 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
 consequence.  He will come and abide with you, and bring
 such peace and joy into your heart, 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, «to visit such a bed of siek-
ness, 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.'"
   " Went," he says, on the 26th of April,  " to Freemasons'
 Tavern  Committee-room, and  afterwards to the Hall on the
 Duke of Kent's Statue proposal.  I seconded the first reso-
 lution—kept there latish.   I am much pressed to attend the
 London Missionary Society, but I cannot do it.  Last year 
1820.
RETURN OF QUEEN.
453
 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; do-
 ing, according to his own account " pretty well, and every
 body very kind to  me."  «  But  oh  how humbled am I to
 find still in myself solicitude  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 himself,*
 " to write  a life of yourself, and I would  write another ;
 and it would be curious to see the different renderings
 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 walls,  and his spirits
 seemed unusually depressed; after  a time, he  burst forth
 into expressions of his grief and self-abasement, at  bis re-
 membrance of some scenes of  revelling, in which, though
 never given to excess, he had joined in early life within that
 very room—' To  what  a different use, thank  God, are we
 now about to put  it!' "
  The  arrival of the Queen  soon introduced a new  and
 fearful excitement amidst the subsiding waves of civil strife.
  During the anxious debates  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 which would  be
 occasioned ; that the country  would be in a fury, and perhaps
 the soldiers might take the Queen's part."
  In the stirring and anxious scenes that followed, he took
 an  active part, and notwithstanding the " fears he has been
 very profligate"  which he enters on his Journal, he deprecated
the disgraceful consequences which would  result from  the
 Parliamentary inquiry  into her conduct, and though he well
knew the extreme odium and misconstruction to which his
course exposed  him in " the  hope of averting a great evil,"
he laboured assiduously to mediate between the two parties.

  * 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
 has told me that it was that your elocution might be a model to the school." 
454
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.  .
1820.
 In the midst  of the contumely to which the measures he
 proposed rendered him liable, " 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."
   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' disinterested  public service I am
 believed to be a perfect  rascal!  Oh what a comfort it is to
 trave to fly for  refuge to a  God of unchangeable  truth and
 love !"
   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.
 " So  here  is  William  Wilberforce going  to  visit  Henry
 Bankes," his companion overheard him  murmur to himself
 as he drove up to Kingston Hall, " 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.   " The accounts from London
are most  alarming."  In this crisis  his interference  was
requested  by men of various  parties.   Lord John  Russell
led the way  by a letter in the Times of August 5th, " which
can hardly fail," says the editor, " to propitiate Mr. Wilber-
force, so beneficent is the office which it assigns to him ; so 
1820.
DIFFICULTIES WITH THE QUEEN.
455
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.  " You must ere now have
seen Lord John Russell's  curious publication.   I own I  am
concerned to  see  the  letter,  because it sadly obstructs the
course of proceeding I had before meditated.   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 people." . . " But
how could he hope that I should prevail  on the King to ac-
cept my mediation, as that of a neutral man,  when publicly
called upon to come forward by one of the strongest parti-
sans of the opposition!"
   " I am divided  between the fear on the one hand of ne-
glecting 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 advancing, and on the other
of appearing conceitedly to think of myself more highly than
I ou^ht to think, and of thereby injuring the interests of re-
ligion.   My situation  would be  very painful if religious prin-
 ciples I hope in part, but still more natural temper  and habit,
 had not lessened  the  sensibility of my feelings on all terres-
 trial thino-s   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 " decided
 that it may be well to be on the spot when the Queen's bu-
 siness is going to begin, that if any opening  should presen
 ftself it nTay  be embraced.  I 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,
 nf she is guiltv,)  and assume the part of a person deeply in-
  ured   Olf thecorrupted currents of this world ! Oh for that
  better world, where there shall be no shuffling."
    "pray for  me," he writes back from London to his  fami-
  ly " that I may  be enlightened and strengthened for the du-
  ties of this important and critical season.  Hitherto  God has
  wonderfully  supported  and blessed me; oh how much be- 
456
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1820.
 yond my deserts! It  will be a comfort 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 in-
 terference, 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 recommend conciliation
 to the Queen.  One ardent friend, with more  zeal than dis-
 cretion, 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 cot-
 tage and conferred with General Tliornton, 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 re-
 mained 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 infirmities.   Nevertheless I  am not  much surprised
 at what has taken place, for I must confess that the yoke of
 government might probably press  heavily upon  his people,
 and that he might carry on his whole system,  both in intro-
 ducing improvements and in reforming  morals,  with  too
 much rigour.   Again, the military discipline which he en-
forced, and the great army which  he maintained,  were ne-
cessary 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." 
1820.     DIFFICULTIES BETWEEN KING AND QUEEN.       457
  " 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 overstrict  enforcement of
justice ; the other, his being avaricious, and heaping together
much money in  his capital.    But this was  for the purpose
of buying  gunpowder  from  the Americans, 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 peo-
ple, but he furnishes a striking instance of the truth, that
by too  earnestly pursuing a good object you directly defeat
•t."
   As  the  meeting of  the House  approached  the political
horizon became darker.  Mr. Wilberforce returned to Lon-
don with a heavy heart.  " 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 little these parliamentary
affairs will interest me when I look  death in  the face—except
having kept a clear conscience!"
   On  the 26th he " found the question changed by the mo-
tion 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 restoring  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 con-
tumacious conduct.   It is   almost rebellious."   This con-
 cession 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
 craved for the Queen  by name, and " would not allow that
 she was prayed for at  all,  in  the words, ' for  all  the royal 
458
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1821.
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 fami-
ly,' I  include the Queen."   But to perpetuate the  notion
that it was  designed 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 introducing
a  political feeling into the Church.   Every religious  man
has hitherto consoled himself with the reflection, 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 ani-
mosities 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 sen-
timent should be, if possible, avoided.  But at present this
unhappy subject is brought under public notice  every Sun-
day, 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 eccle-
siastical system sealed  with the blood of martyrs, and from
which the Dissenters themselves have derived all the advan-
tages  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 suf-
fer such considerations to affect our conduct, or even to bias
our judgment.  Yet it is one of the views in which a better
world often  presents 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 !"
   His domestic character  was truly remarkable.  It was not
merely that the tenderness of his earliest affections was un-
chilled by a bustling public life, but that there was a careful 
1821.       OPINION ON WORLDLY ASSOCIATION.          459
thoughtfulness as to the effect of little things upon his chil-
dren's characters which  seemed  almost incompatible  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 himself, (a far severer trial of his
principles,) with no eye  to personal ambition.  His great
wish  was to see them useful clergymen, and leaving to them-
selves 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 generations
appears not to have produced one clergyman, he lived to
see two in Holy Orders,  and a third preparing for the minis-
try.   His letters to them are full of the same spirit.

           TO A SON AT ORIEL COLLEGE,  OXFORD.

                                     " Saturday, March 10.
" My dear ----,
         *****       *
   " But you  have perhaps been expecting to hear from  me
in answer to your question.  I cannot object to  your plan
of retiring to  read, but  I  hope you will  be very careful
whom you select  for your companions.  Believe rne on  the
credit of my long  experience,  that though  Christians who
wish to maintain  the spiritual life in vigour  and  efficiency,
(fervent, £sovrsg, in spirit, serving the Lord,) may without in-
jury mix and associate with  worldly people for the transac-
tion of business ;  yet they cannot for recreation, still less for
intimate friendship and  society.  With the deep interest I
feel for your eternal concerns, (oh how contemptible does all
else appear  in comparison!) I cannot but  enforce  on you
this most important truth."

   His state of health at this time gave many indications that
his parliamentary services must terminate ere long.   Seve-
ral successive attacks of illness  made it impossible or dan-
gerous  for him to attend the House, and delayed  his intend-
ed inquiry into the West India system to another  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 run-
ning system without delay; when I recovered, so as  to al- 
460
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1821.
low me the hope of doing two or three important matters he-
fore my departure."
   His secret thoughts on his recovery are full of gratitude 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  at-
tack,  two important practical  truths:  when I become ever
so little incapable of quiet  continued reflection I can only
gaze at known truths, and look up with aspirations of hum-
ble thankfulness to  the  will of my unwearied and long-suf-
fering Benefactor."
   Never surely was family religion seen  in more attractive
colours, than in his  house.  "I only wish," said  a college
friend who had been visiting two 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 cheer-
ful  play of a most happy temper, which  more than sixty
years had only mellowed, gladdened all his domestic inter-
course.   The family meetings  were  enlivened  by his con-
versation—gay, easy, and natural, yet abounding in mani-
fold instruction, drawn from books, from life, and from  re-
flection.  Though his step was less elastic than of old, he
took his part in out-of-door occupations ; climbing the neigh-
bouring downs with the  walking parties, pacing  in the shade
of the tall trees, or  gilding  with the old man's smiles the in-
nocent cheerfulness of younger pastimes.
  In the leisure of the country to which he this year retired,
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 posterity, 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 work.  Though the complaint in my eyes  has
for some years prevented my acquiring knowledge, 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 exacted all
his time.  He was at once obliged to begin writing " letters 
1821.
DEATH OF HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER.
461
to two members of the American Congress and to the Em-
peror of Russia."
   One heavy trial alone clouded all this summer.  His eldest
daughter still continued in a state which gave him much un-
easiness.
   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  medical at-
tendance.
   " I have been employed," he tells Mr. Wrangham, " 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 as-
sured persuasions 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 ourselves, to have wit-
nessed the composure with which, in the prospect of speedy
dissolution, our dear child, naturally 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 for-
get the tenderness, and faith, and love, and devotion with
 which, having desired  all  others to withdraw, she  poured
 forth  her  last audible  prayer for herself and us."   "Sus-
 tained by  a humble  hope of the mercies of God through her
 Redeemer and Intercessor, she was enabled to bear her suf-
 ferings  with  patience and resignation, and to preserve  a
 composure which even surprised herself.  On the very morn-
 ing of the last day of her life she had desired a favourite female
 attendant  to ask her  physician, whether or not there was
 any hope of her recovery, ' but if not,' she added, ' all is well.
 She expired at last  like a person falling asleep-scarcely a
 groan, and not the least  struggle.  I am almost bound  in
 Iratitude to the Giver of all good to call in my friends to re-
 See  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."                              f  ,
    To Mr. Babington he opens still more freely all the feel-
  Shp-s of his heart in the review of this affecting scene.   There
  wfs none of that exultation and holy joy which are  some.
  tf me"manifested by dying Christians.  But I know not that
  mJ iudlent  does not rest with more solid  confidence on
  hlr humble composure and consciousness of her own unwor-
  ScTwitl^i an"affectionate casUng  of herself on  her Re- 
462
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1821.
deemer and Intercessor.  The day before 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 Sa-
viour.  And she had remarked to her mother that she never
had before understood the meaning and value of Christ's in-
tercession.  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 solitary chamber
to commune with his God. "I went and saw the coffin. How
vain the plumes, &c.  when the occasion 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 per-
suasion that all is well  with her; that she is gone to glory.
When I look back on my past life, and review it, comparing
especially the numerous,  almost innumerable, instances  of
God's kindness to me with my unworthy returns, I am over-
whelmed, and can with truth adopt the language of the Pub-
lican, God be merciful to me a sinner.  Every one knows, or
may know, his own sins, the criminality of which  varies ac-
cording to his opportunities of improvement,  obligations and
motives  to obedience, advantages  and means of  grace, fa-
vours and loving-kindnesses, pardons and mercies.  It is the
exceeding goodness of God to me, and  the almost unequalled
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 continuance;  my  being made the
instrument of  bringing  forward the Abolition; my helping
powerfully the cause of Christianity in  India;  my never  hav-
ing been discredited, but being always supported on all pub-
lic occasions.   There would be no end of the enumeration,
were I to 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 36, 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 account of the love of their chil-
dren towards them.  Then my social blessings.   No man 
1822.
FEELINGS ON INCREASE OF INFIRMITIES.
463
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
remaining quietly in it, instead of trying to rise in life myself,
or to make friends among men of rank; above all,  the wis-
dom of selecting religious men  for friends. The great and no-
ble now all treat me with respect, because they see I am inde-
pendent of them, and some I believe feel real attachment to
me. Then my having faculties sufficient to make me respect-
able—a natural  faculty of public  speaking—though  the com-
plaint  in my eyes sadly  hinders me in acquiring knowledge,
and in writing.   Then, almost above  all, my having been
rendered the instrument of much spiritual good by  my work
on Christianity.  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  provocations.
 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, exter-
 nal 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. Wilberforce returned with his
 diminished family to Marden  Park; a  lease  of which he had
 purchased; where  his recent loss, as well as his decreasing
 powers of body, tended to detain him.
 P But though his bodily strength was visibly impaired,  the
 fire of his spirit was unquenched, and  he longed  to be stjl
 acUve in  his Master's work.  " I am sometimes; he told his
 friends " quite grieved at the idea of my probably not being
 abktoVa Htle good yet  before I quit  the stage;  and the
 ? 1st  Psalm  is  strongly impressed upon me especially the
  vee,  'Forsake me not when  I  am old and fay-headed
  Yet  perhaps this is in  part only another form of selfishness,
  «nd  the  better feeling that which prompts me to acquiesce
  entirely inTd'sposil of God.  If my chief object be that
  «wiV be done what signifies it whether  it be by me or
  H'  ,  He can ralslup instruments at will,  and  I  may be
  ^ing Him more acceptably by cheerfully retiring  and giv-
  fZ nlice to younger and more active men.
     One more effort closed his long parliamentary career. Its 
464
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1822.
three last years were spent in giving to the struggle against
Slavery that  first impulse, which  before he left the scene
had secured  Emancipation throughout  all the British  co-
lonies.
  At  Marden Park his family and  friends were gathered
round him, and he was reading, conversing, writing letters,
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 Letters to his most  intimate
friends."  " I am going on with Thomas Scott's life in dress-
ing.   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.   1 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 in-
deed,  in whom there was  no guile.  No consideration of
interest, gratification, or credit could  make him swerve con-
sciously 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 eminently 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  run-
ning over the Fortunes  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 charac-
ter 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 recol-
lection  of the uncertainty of life, yet when such an event as
this takes place, we are as much astonished as  if we had ex-
pected the man to be as sure of good old age  as of his ac-
tual existence!" 
1822.
DEATH OF LORD LONDONDERRY.
465
  The particulars of this tragical event had not yet tran-
spired, but the  next day  supplied more distinct intelligence.
" August 14th.  S. brought a report from Croydon that poor
Londonderry had destroyed himself.  I could not believe it.
The Courier  however and several  letters  too clearly con-
firmed it.  He  was certainly deranged—the effect probably
of continued  wear and tear of mind.  But the strong im-
pression of my mind  is, that it is the effect of the non-ob-
servance of the Sunday, both  as abstracting 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 was 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 speak-
ing 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  endeavour 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 i emissions, 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 anxious-
ly over the progress of his cause, and was sometimes en-
gaged in consultations  with  the other Abolition leaders ;
sometimes for  whole  days in  " preparing a most important
communication for Lord  Bathurst," or in corresponding with
the other members of administration. He received "a  satis-
factory reply from Lord Liverpool," of whom he had de-
manded " as the head  of the government," that the plenipo-
tentiary of Great  Britain  at the approaching Congress might
be  " instructed by the 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." 
466
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1822.
  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  believe that we
are satisfied  with  him  on Abolition grounds.   My  letter,
though civil in terms, was frank in matter, and it plainly in-
timated that we should have no favourable opinion  of his re-
ligious or moral character  if he  did not honestly exert his
powers in our behalf."
  He had left home in the middle  of September, and travel-
ling from house to house, visited  many  of his friends, each
of whom in turn delighted to gather round him their own cir-
cle of acquaintance, whilst in addition to these claims of so-
ciety, 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.   I believe I told you how much surprised I
was  at your industry."  His progress  led him on to many
of his earlier  haunts ;  Elmdon,  Rothley Temple, Yoxall
Lodge, and Apley, " the house of an honest Tory," were all
visited in turn; and many interesting notices are scattered
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, ' I know the interior  of the
man, and despise and abhor him.' "
  From Cromer Hall he paid Felbrigg a visit, and in its li-
brary turned  over with great interest  many of the  books
which  were "full  of Windham's  marks."   "Windham'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 characteristics 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,  " and  I had a melancholy
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." 
1822.      CORRESPONDENCE WITH EARLY FRIENDS.       467
  " 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." ' 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 edi-
fied 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 correspond-
ence of unusual interest. One letter was to his college friend
Dr. Frewen.  " It is always with a sort of melancholy plea-
sure, that I address  an old friend  after a long period has
elapsed without personal  intercourse.   The mind naturally
casts a backward glance over the retrospect, and in the ex-
perience  of all there  has been some loss  or  another which
renders the review affecting.  These emotions have been
this 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 simi-
lar circumstances."   Dr. Frewen's answer alluded to some
coldness  which he imagined had  grown up between them,
(" of which I 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 interest-
 ine letter,  in which  I have not  wished,  I may rather  say
 loneed, 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 confirma-
 tion your letter gives to my favourite doctrine, and I must do 
468
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1822.
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 set-
tle on its lees, if I  may use the expression, and acquire aug-
mented strength and colour by being kept within our own
bosoms. It is really true, that I  was not aware of having ex-
hibited any coldness towards you in my behaviour, and also
that I have utterly forgot, if ever  I  knew, 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 recollection of
long-past incidents to bring before  me,  if possible,  the cir-
cumstances 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 thankfulness
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 immedi-
ately 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
confidence 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 Cook-
son the  justice  to exempt  you in a  good degree from this
charge,  though to be honest with you  not  entirely.  For
would not the golden rule  have prompted  you to use to-
wards me the language of a friend, if not of a father?  (My
natural  father  I lost when eight years old, and   my grand-
father and uncle  soon after I went to Cambridge.)  Ought 
1822.
REVIEW OF COLLEGE LIFE.
469
you not  to  have urged  me to look forward, and even on
principles of sound human wisdom, much more on Chris-
tian 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 enter-
taining companion, yet that I should erelong bitterly lament
that I had suffered the years and circumstances which sup-
plied 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 en-
forced on me the base  ingratitude, to say nothing of the
guilt, of making such  an  unworthy return to the Giver of all
good for all  the uncommon blessings  which  had been
lavished  on  me with such exceeding prodigality?  (I allude
to my having been born  in  England  in the eighteenth cen-
tury, 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 natural  talent,  and a cheerful and  not an anx-
ious 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 un-
profitable servant ?
  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 au-
tumn 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 imperfectly, I have ever  since made
it the great business  of my life to conform my character,
I  should  rather say my dispositions, and tempers, and con-
duct.  Of course I then  took a survey of the past and the
future.  Providence 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 re-
conciled  Father  in Christ Jesus, as well as of reasonable
                           40 
470
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1822.
service to my Creator, Preserver, and continual Benefactor.
And I was to labour more abundantly than the men of the
world, who looked only to gain or to glory for their recom-
pense.  For ' what do ye more than others,' wTas our Sa-
viour's language  to his disciples.  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 pos-
sessed.   My .business therefore manifestly was, to employ
as diligently as I 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 I 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 mar-
ried 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 re-
new them—yet while I  am writing, a new idea has sug-
gested 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 iny ' goings-
on,' (to use  a coarse  but expressive phrase,) and the princi-
ples which  I could not but earnestly wish and pray that all
whom I valued and loved should also embrace.   Now if I
die?  not  send it  to you, I really believe  the omission must
have arisen from forgetfulness.  But it was  an  unfriendly
omission, and I beg your pardon for it, and  will repair the
fault.  I grant, however, that though the  interest  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 
1822.
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM.
471
such agreeable intimates to each other as heretofore.  There
was no longer the ' eadem velle' and ' eadem nolle' in the
same degree, and therefore wTe 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  entreat
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 character and practices
which are recommended in it, are  such  as the New Testa-
ment prescribes to us, and such as alone will bring peace at
the last.  You  will at once however see, that my main ob-
ject 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  explanations given to describe the  dispositions
 and affections 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
 vprv correct idea of your political sentiments, considering
 TurnoXving exchanged a word on the subject for between
 ttnrtv and  forty  years.   I am myself decidedly convinced
 that party is one of the  chief evils which in politics we have
      lllln to re-ret   This it is, which  in the opinion of
 nTny wll  meaning(though I do not think  them rightly
 SdK men, renders governing by influence necessary■;  so
 \TJ it° has become  a settled contest, whoever is minister,
 hefween crownTnfluence on one side and systematic oppo-
   Ct    n Jhf other   Of course I  do not mean to condemn
  SS^io^'l^-^ed men, and  I know  that if I
       Kprnade  such an acknowledgment in  a public
  We?mblv the «ady reply would be, Why what is that but
  3S^  IUs cerSy one of the innumerable cases  in which
  fhe fault is  in  Jhe abuse, in the excess of the thing, not in

  "^Parliamentary Reform.it  would require.morei eye-
  sight than I can spare to put on paper what I think on that 
472
life of wilberforce.
1822.
 head.  But I doubt not you would concur with me in opinion
 that, the bribery, of all  sorts  and forms, and  the drunken-
 ness, 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 blessing
 attend you and yours."

   Mr. Buxton  to whom he entrusted  the lead in the House
 of Commons in the great  question of emancipation, 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 reproach myself
 for not having expended wisely and economically 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 expend-
 ing 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 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.
 Nbw this new state is produced, blessed be God, in various
 ways, and we are never cultivating it more efficiently than
 when, under the influence 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 
1823.
LETTER TO T. F. BUXTON, ESQ.
473
they often are proceeding in the same great work of culti-
vating and strengthening the right dispositions and tempers
—humility, submission, patience, love, peace, joy, child-like
affiance, far more prosperously than  those who to the view
of their fellow Christians may be abounding 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.   Now, 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
deliberate and decide what course to pursue.  I can scarcely
say what pain it would give me, were I to be unable before
I go hence to declare my sentiments and feelings on this
head."

  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 " 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 abolish-
ing this wicked system, and striving to render the degraded
race by degrees a free peasantry.   Oh may God bless our
attempt."
  Early  in March  his Appeal was  published.  He then
speaks of himself as  " busy for the first time on" his " Sla-
very  Abolition  work.   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
                          40* 
474
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1823.
writer's natural manner was so happily tempered by Chris-
tian candour, and  by the wisdom of age, that no  heart
could be closed when he spoke, " suavitate ilia, qua perfun-
deret animos, not 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  willing-
ly,  that my poor  negroes may be  brought  not only to the
liberty of Europeans, but especially to the liberty of Chris-
tians."
  But the nation  was slow to be persuaded of the  cruel
and debasing nature of a system which it had so long  main-
tained, and which was linked with innumerable  private in-
terests.  Mr. Wilberforce had learned too  much in his thirty-
five years' apprenticeship in African controversy, to expect
the chains of slavery to crumble under a single blow.
  In his present measures he was  but following  up  his for-
mer steps.  He had attacked the Slave Trade as a monstrous
evil in itself, while he hoped that its suppression 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 negotiation, 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 sys-
tem,, 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 imper-
ceptibly led on  the planters.
  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 himself  the servant  of God, does
his  Master's  business  so  long  as He signifies His  will by
action and  no less  by retiring.    I hope  I have been acting
on  this principle (applying 'he must increase, but  I  must 
1823.
LETTER TO J. S. HARFORD.
475
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 consideration that all events are under the  guidance of
infinite wisdom and goodness, and that we are hastening to
a wrorld 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  fol-
lowing 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
 <dory 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 scantiness of my performances, and
 with what alloy my motives have been debased ;  alas, alas,
 my friend, I have no peace, no rest,  but in the assurances of
 nardon  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  bro-
 ken-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.
      B                       Ever affectionately,
                                      W. Wilberforce."

    On the 15th of May, Mr. Buxton, to whom he had  now
 commuted the leading place in this great work " began his
 Slavery motion  about half-past five.  He moved a resolution
 declaring Slavery repugnant to Christianity and  the consti-
 tutfon   Canning replied, and moved resolutions proclaiming
 reform  of the system, and specifying driving, punishment of
 Smiles  Sunday work, and market.  It was an awkward situ-
 at on but  I could not  learn what our friends thought, and I 
476
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1823.
never got up so utterly unprepared, but D. G. I believe I hit
the point.  We certainly 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 14, 1823.
" My very dear----,
  I scarcely need assure you,  that however much  I  am oc-
cupied, 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 de-
sired  Mr. Wilson to come a little before, that I  might intro-
duce 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 ac-
quainted with any good or useful man.  More perhaps de-
pends on the selection of acquaintance than  on any other
circumstance of life.  Acquaintance are the raw  material,
from which  are manufactured  friends,  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
character 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 pwoVrip sv
ruxotfiiu.  The idea has brought tears  into my  eyes and al-
* Aged 18. 
1823.
LETTER TO HIS SON.
477
most disqualified  me from  going on with my letter.  My
dearest----,  aim high;  do  not be contented 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 1 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 reason-
able being.
   But my time and eyesight are expended, and though I
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 ' may be strength-
ened 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  be-
ing prepared for that milder form of persecution 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 1  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
 self-examination  not by your prayers, but by what you find
 to be the  effects of them on your character, tempers, and
 life.  But this opens a  wide prospect, and I  must stop. Most
 reluctantly, farewell.
                     Ever most affectionately yours,
                                    W. Wilberforce."

    The conclusion of this letter is a picture  of the tone of his
 religion ; fruitful in the liveliest affections, but tested unceas-
 ZX by its more substantial fruits. "I should wish to know,"
 he%aid after  hearing of  a  happy death, "the man's previous
 character ; for such expressions of confidence in the Saviour
 are not satisfactory to me unless^ they are accompanied by
 nther marks  of practical religion."
    Hav^g given up his tenancy of Marden Park, Mr. Wilber-
 force was now looking out for some summer quarters at which
 to fix his family.   No Diary of the next  few months  was
 found amongst his papers;  but his correspondence will  sup-
 ply the blank, and enable  us to trace his steps.  Shortly be- 
478                LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1823.

fore leaving London he thus mentions to a  son the place
upon  which he had decided for the gathering of the family.

                                 " Brompton, July 29, 1823.
" My very dear----,
   Your disappointment at the arrangement which prevented
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 Jong, and spend  some time together. It
will then be your duty to take plenty of air  and exercise ;
and in selecting Barmouth  for our quarters I  was principal-
ly 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."

   On his road to  Barmouth he wrote  to one who  had shared
his excursion to  the Lakes, and who had been the most in-
timate 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 Idris, beside the roots of which Barmouth is si-
tuated, 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, be-
cause so enriched and animated by hope, will a little sadden
the gayety of  the scene.  Fancy would paint for itself a re-
newal  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.  There
was a chapel and a school—not that  school tyrannized over
by that Q,ueen Elizabeth of schoolmistresses  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 con- 
1823.
AUGEREAU.
479
duct 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 de-
livered us from the imminent danger to which we were ex-
posed, if not of becoming the prey  of that ferocious and un-
principled tyrant, yet of having our country the seat of war-
fare, 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 Buona-
parte's generals, in the true spirit of his school, (Augereau, I
think,) is said to have declared in speaking of this very sub-
ject, ' Let me land with  100,000 men in England, and I do
not 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 comfort
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 mention  of that infinitely  glorious
 and gracious Being, the sum of all perfection,  who  conde-
 scends to grant us even here a measure of His Spirit and na-
 ture, and of whom we are told that when 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  practi-
 cal observation of  the  apostle's declaration, that every one
 that 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 thank-
 fulness 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. Wilberforce."

    From this retirement he  watched with intense interest the
  progress of his cause. "I am  expecting tidings of the recep-
  E™ Liven in the West  Indies to  the  account  of the parlia-
      m, v nroreedin-s and more especially of Mr. Canning's
  J^sl^^y irt and  head are full  of  West Indian 
480
life of wilberforce.
1824.
matters."  " I wish that I could be as easy about insurrec-
tions as you and Stephen.   That they would  not happen if
the people on the spot really apprehended them, and would
take reasonable means of guarding against them, I verily be-
lieve, 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 1"
  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 patience, and  the
bursts of love  and  thankfulness which were ever breaking
forth  throughout this season  of  restlessness  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  ob-
served to Mr. Stephen ; " No man has been more favoured
than I, for even when I am ill my  complaints occasion little
suffering."   Beckoning 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 Leicester-
shire."
  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, 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 affec-
tions."
  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 unequalled 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 word 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 
1824.
HIS LAST SPEECH IN PARLIAMENT.
481
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 Mackin-
tosh 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 preju-
dices 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, we might
hope  gradually and almost  insensibly to lead  them to our
end.  But  what can we hope, when  they abhor  alike  both
means and end ?  It is with reluctance and  pain I come for-
ward, but  I esteem it my  bounden duty to  protest against
the policy on which we are now acting.  ' Liberavi 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\3  seat at Iver ;  and on the road was seized with a
new attack of illness.  When he reached Lord Gambier's,
he was " 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 shattered 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.  " We have  been living very quietly ; never visit-
ing, scarcely receiving a single  visiter.  Often we have a
little family reading in the evenings after tea, (Robertson's
America,) which I should always like, if it did 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
                          41 
482
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1824.
religious book.  I have  also  a wish  to  write  something
political; my own life, and Pitt's too, coming into the dis-
cussion."
  One important question occupied his thoughts all through
the autumn.   His strength  had been  visibly impaired  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.
" The  idea of retiring  and not endeavouring to bear"  his
"testimony once more in support of truth and righteousness,"
he found " very painful."  This was not from any restless
wish to be in action.  " There was no particular," he had
three years before this time declared to Dr. Chalmers, " 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 Milton's on his blindness, ending

                             ' 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 re-
ference of all that concerned himself to the leading of God's
providence.   In the course of this autumn, an arrangement
was suggested to him by the friendly zeal of Sir John Sin-
clair, which would have removed him  to the calmer atmo-
sphere of the Upper House.  " To your friendly suggestion,"
was his remarkable reply, " respecting changing  the field of
my parliamentary labours, I must say a word or two, premi-
sing that I do not intend 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 re-
gretted he had done so little.
  To Mr. Harford  he  writes: " When I consider that  my 
1825.
DIMINUTION OF OATHS.
483
public  life is nearly expired, and when  I review the many
years I have  been in it, I am filled with the deepest com-
punction, from  the  consciousness of my having  made  so
poor a use of the talents committed to my  stewardship.
The heart knows its own  bitterness.  We alone know our-
selves, the opportunities we  have enjoyed, and the compara-
tive use we  have made of them.  But  it  is only to your
friendly ear that I breathe out my secret sorrows.   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 later he  wrote to Mr.
Gurney.

                     TO J. J. GURNEY.

                                            "Oct. 24,1825.
" My dear Friend,
   My eyes  are indifferent,  and were they ever so strong I
should wear them out, were I to attempt to give expression
to the sentiments and feelings with which my  bosom is over-
charged.   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 wrongs,  and above all, pro-
moting the best  interests of our fellow-creatures.   I  some-
times  fear we are not sufficiently thankful for this most gra-
tifying 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
I were to charge my parliamentary life with sins of commis-
sion, (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 pro-
 pose a bill for greatly lessening the number of oaths, and
 once I carried on a  previous inquiry, 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 mem-
 bers  chiefly official men, would take the measure off my
 hands, and I always preferred employing others on such oc- 
484
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1825.
casions, that I  might not be said to be trying to monopo-
lize.  But my friends deceived me.  Believe me to be ever,
my dear friend,
                  Yours very affectionately,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

   Thoroughly had he imbibed the spirit of the precept, which
bids us  " when we have done all, say we are unprofitable
servants," who after forty years of such service could see
only his  omissions.  More indeed he might have effected if
his habits had been strictly regular 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 col-
league 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," consumed  many of his best  hours;  but they were
given up to "Christian courtesy," and " the relief of individual
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 in-
terruptions upon principle.  "It appears to me," he  said in
the review of his political life, " that public men in this coun-
try 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 in-
dividuals, or classes of mankind, are  naturally led to apply
to them for the redress of their own grievances, or the  sup-
ply 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,  " when 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.   ' 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 
1825.
RETIRES FROM PARLIAMENT.
485
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 unaccom-
plished, 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.

                                    " 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 impor-
tant, and  what  from the affectionate  concern  my very dear
----takes in all that belongs to  me, will be to him very in-
teresting  intelligence.  It  is to  me almost like a 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 out-
weighed by the probable danger to my life, and the conse-
quent  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 withdrawing
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 en-
joyment, in the evening of life!  Praise  the Lord, O my soul.
indeed I 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, ' Surely
goodness and mercy have followed  me all  the  daysi of  my
nfe '  Good night my dear----.  Our friends  the  Babing-
tons are  staying with  us, which leaves  me less time for
writing even than I have eyesight.   I know I shall be much
pressed to-morrow, so I have taken up a very  bad pen to-
                         41* 
486
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1825.
night.  May God bless you—the constant wish, as in a few
minutes it will be the prayer, of
                Your most affectionate father,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

  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 visible; 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 eloquence."  Mr. Mor-
ritt 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  commemorate for my own future reflection the more
recent impression  they made, I 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 beauti-
ful ; deep,  clear, articulate, and flexible.   I think his great-
est premeditated efforts were made for the Abolition of the
Trade in Slaves, and in supporting some of the measures
brought forward by Pitt,  for the more effectual suppression
of revolutionary machinations, 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 impression 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 embar-
rassment, 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  dis-
content 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 all his  speeches,
long or short,  there was generally at least  from five to ten 
1825.          his influence in the house.            487

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 intentions of
others, which became in  advancing  life more and more pre-
dominant, influenced both his line of oratory, and  his rea-
soning when not in the House of Commons.  He gradually
left off the keener weapons of ridicule and sarcasm, how-
ever 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.  Some-
times also, as on the  questions  involving peace or war, the
wishes of his heart were at variance  with  the conclusions
of his understanding, and'resolutions of great  pith  and
moment,'
          ' 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 wirich passed in his own
mind, instead of the  result to which it led him, thus furnish-
ing 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 measure
impaired by age,  the authority of character had  only ripened
with his years.   He had been long a  standing  proof of the
fallacy of the assertion, that  without connexion with a party,
no  man  can  attain  political importance;  and the " moral
compulsion" which  he exercised continually strengthened.
Here he was sure of his conclusions, and  neither  in word
or deed  was there any doubt or indecision.   " It  is the fa-
shion to speak of Wilberforce," said one  of the heads of
the Colonial Office, 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 au-
 dience  with one of the ministers, with whom he had re-
 monstrated on an improper appointment—the nomination
 of a man of notoriously immoral character  to a responsible 
488               LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.              1825.

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 would have  to answer hereafter 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 without
much observation from his fellows, and  without  being fol-
lowed 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 same day.

TO ROBERT ISAAC WILBERFORCE, ESQ. AND SAMUEL WILBERFORCE,
               ESQ. ORIEL COLLEGE, OXFORD.

" My dear boys,
   When  Charles  the  First was 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, I 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 useful-
ness, comfort, and honour  here,  and for  glory, honour, and
immortality for you hereafter, I remain,
          Ever your  most affectionate father,
                                   W. Wilberforce."

   One  more extract in a higher  tone will complete the ex-
hibition of his feelings.  After speaking in glowing language
of the  " full harvest"  younger  men might live to 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
anticipating 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 depar- 
1825.
his private life.
489
 ture from the scene of our earthly pilgrimage, we shall wit-
 ness the developement of the plans we may have formed for
 the benefit of our fellow-creatures ;  the growth and fruitage
 of the good  principles we have implanted and cultivated in
 our children  ; 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 im-
 plored as their portion.   It is almost, 1 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 children are now taking a
 tender  interest in all that concerns 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 world.   I  must  no  longer  trespass on my
 slender stock of eyesight, but say, farewell."
   When Mr. Wilberforce quitted parliament  he determined
 to withdraw  from London altogether.   His temporary retire-
 ment near Uxbridge was exchanged, therefore, for a freehold
 residence at High wood  Hill, a pleasant  spot, just " beyond
 the disk of the metropolis." " 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 rational is
 his mode of life ! Domestic charities sweetening and cheer-
 ing the defilements of worldly affairs.   I partake in his long-
 ing for repose; and oh may I be enabled  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 here-
 tofore 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 
490
life of wilberforce.
1825.
when they went, but Inglis chatted with me, and the girls
shook hands.   Sir Stamford and Lady Raffles, and Dr. Mor-
rison 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 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 peo-
ple  urged,  ' what defence can  we have  for our morals V
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."
  "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 fascinating 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 account 
1825.       house of commons recollections.        491

at the last day, carrying up with me ' The Shepherd of Salis-
bury Plain,' than bearing  the load of all those volumes, full ,
as they are of genius."
  With these  are mingled other entries full of pregnant inti-
mations of his state of  mind.   " Butterworth breakfasted ;
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 depres-
sion 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 parliamentary
scenes with which he had been connected.
  ' When Lord  Londonderry was in his ordinary mood,  he
was very tiresome, so slow and  heavy, his sentences only
half formed, his  matter so  confined, 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.'
  • Fox was often truly wonderful.   He would begin at  full
tear, and roll on for hours together without tiring either him-
self or us.'
  » Pitt talked a great deal  among  his friends.   Fox in  ge-
neral society was  quiet and unassuming.  Sheridan was a
jolly companion, and  told  good  stories, but has been over-
rated as a wit by Moore.' 
492
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1825.
   ' Fox was truly amiable in private life, and great allow-
 ance 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 1   ' Perfectly; and  that question re-
 minds  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 way 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 was 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  condemna-
 tion on it, and has given his opinion, that success  in this
 species of composition is next to impossible.  And the rea-
 son which he gives for it is, that all poetry implies exagge-
 ration, but the objects of religion are so great in themselves,
 as to be incapable of augmentation.   One would  think how-
 ever 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, poor man, appears to me  to resolve itself into the
 same cause, which prevented his deriving comfort from the
 cultivation of religion.  The view which  he took of Chris-
 tianity acted  on  his fears, it inspired him with terror, 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 gayety of heart of the
French, even under the  severest  misfortunes.   This drew
forth an  anecdote, which  had been  related  to him  by Mr. 
1825.
ANECDOTE OF M. PERIGORD.
493
Pitt.  « Shortly after the tragical  death of Marie Antoinette,
M.  Perigord, an emigrant  of some consequence, who  had
made Mr. Pitt's  acquaintance at Versailles, took refuge in
England, and on coming to  London 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   Q,ueen  had  been
treated.   The Frenchman's feelings were quite  overcome,
and he exclaimed 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 astonished.' "
  The " love of ease" never tainted  his  old age.  He had
entered  private  life with  the remark, " A man need not be
idle because he ceases to be loquacious."   " Alas !"  he com-
plains 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 promote the poor slaves' well-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.'"
  He now occupied until the spring a house at Beckenham,
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 any where."    " 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

  Here his rarer  intercourse With society was 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
                           42 
494
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1826.
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 conductors.   " Ma-
caulay giving me  useful intelligence.   We differing about
Female Anti-Slavery  Associations.   Babington  with  me,
grounding it  on St. Paul.  I own I cannot relish the plan.
All  private exertions for such an  object become their cha-
racter but for ladies to meet, to publish, to go  from house
to house stirring up petitions—these appear to me proceed-
ings unsuited  to  the  female character 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."
  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 settlement in
a new house—all in confusion."   He was now here  only for
a week, 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. Lushington act-
ing a most important part in changing the condition of the
coloured class through the  whole West Indies, by contend-
ing 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 particular Providence.  ' Yes,'  they re-
plied, ' on great occasions.'  As  unphilosophical as  unscrip-
tural—must  not the smallest links  be as necessary for main-
taining 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.
  Many of his letters are coloured more or less  by  the tone
of thought excited by the death  of Lord Liverpool  and Mr. 
1827.   DEATH OF LORD LIVERPOOL AND MR. CANNING.     495

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 preparation for the last.   My friends are daily drop-
ping around me.  The companions of my youth, then far
stronger and more healthy than I was, are worn out, while I
still remain."  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 often 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.

         ' Haec data poena diu viventibus, ut renovata
          Semper clade domus, multisque in luctibus, inque
          Perpetuo mffirore et nigra veste senescant.'

But how different are the emotions with which we may re-
gard the deaths of our friends from those of the heathen poet!
And it is one of the  indirect rewards of such religious princi-
ples and habits  as lead us to select our friends from the ex-
cellent ones of the earth,  that we are not compelled to seek
for comfort by forgetting  the companions  of  our choice that
are taken from us, but may follow them 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 occu-
pations. 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 encou-
raged by a better feeling than vanity, to cherish the hope that
your old father has a place among them. Even were it a com-
mon day, (a  week-day as it is termed,)  writing to you at
 such a distance, 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 naturally
 be of a serious colour; and when in relation to all my friends 
496
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1827.
present or absent, my mind on this day is conversant with
their highest interests, it must be peculiarly so in communi-
cating 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 geographical 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 drawn to this reflection by yesterday's hav-
ing been the birth-day of our beloved and, I confidently hope,
sainted  Barbara—already joined by our sweet little grand-
child.  There is something very affecting to my mind in this
way of considering life, as a voyage in which  ' track out' and
' track home' designate its opposite periods of youth and old
age.  Oh  what cause have I for gratitude in the blessed in-
fluences 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
guarding 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. Wilberforce."

  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 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 cbatteration, and  I  feel strangely awkward  in  re-
turning  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 any where, where I might live  as  a col-
legian, having  every thing found for me, and I only trying
to do a  little good with what poor powers are left me, and 
1827.
his old age.
497
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 dia-
pason 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 simplicity of  childhood.   Gay, busy, social, and
affable,  tender without  softness, and witty without sting, he
was 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 bu-
siest and  happiest groups that he was always to  be found.
His days at Highwood 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  glowing eloquence, always  with affec-
tionate  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 few minutes

            " To take the air and hear the thrushes sing."

He enjoyed this stroll exceedingly.  " A delightful morning.
Walked out and saw the most abundant dew-drops spark-
ling 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 repeat Psalms 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 medi-
tation.  Breakfast was still prolonged and  animated by his
unwearied  powers  of conversation, and when  congenial
friends  were gathered round him, their discussions lasted
                           42* 
498
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1827.
 sometimes till noon.   From the breakfast-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  morn-
 ing, " for whom I feel  unfeigned  esteem  and regard,  but it
 quite molests me  to  talk for  a  whole morning.   Nothing
 done, and no accession of intellect."  Soon after his  retire-
 ment he  was invited as an idle man to an  amateur concert.
 " What!."  he exclaimed, " music in a  morning 1  Why it
 would be as bad as dram-drinking."  Yet his love for mu-
 sic 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 Jeisuie season
 some further employment of his  pen; a work on  the Epis-
 tles of St. Paul, especially.  " I have read Whateley's Es-
 says  on  Scripture  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 intention, and neither this work nor  an
 additional  chapter  to 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 was gone,  he  sallied
 forth into the garden,  humming often to himself, in the glad-
 ness of his heart, some favourite tune, alone, or in the com-
 pany 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 dis-
 tinct.  Although we may have fondly loved  them, and may
 hallow the memory of their  good qualities,  we cannot  al-
 ways summon  their image before us; but I venture  to ex-
 press my conviction, that no one who has  been aceustomed
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 counte- 
1827.
LOVE OF FLOWERS.
499
nance, and the nimble finger with which he used to seize on
every little object which happened  to adorn or diversify his
path ?   Much less can we forget his vivacious wit—so play-
ful, yet so harmless;  the glow of his affections; the urbanity
of his manners; and the wondrous celerity with which he
was ever wpnt to turn from one  bright thought to another.
Above all, however,  his  friends will never cease to remem-
ber 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 solitude 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 animated and even play-
ful conversation, and then drawing from his copious pockets
(to  contain Dalrymple's  State Papers  was  their  standard
measure)  some  favourite  volume or other;  a Psalter,  a
Horace, a Shakspeare,  or Cowper, and  reading,  and re-
citing, or " refreshing" passages ; 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  would point out  the harmony  of  the tints, the
beauty of the pencilling, the perfection of the colouring, and
run up all into those ascriptions of praise to the Almighty
which were ever welling 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, deposited a few
that he had gathered, safely in  his room before he joined the
breakfast table.   Often would he say as he enjoyed their fra-
grance,  "  How good  is God to us !  What should  we think
of a friend who had  furnished  us with a magnificent house
and all we needed, and then coming in to see that  all had
been  provided according 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 new term of existence, and sparkle
through a  long evening to the astonishment of those who 
500
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1827.
 expected, at his time of life, to see his mind and spirits flag,
 even if his strength was not exhausted.   The whole even-
 ing was seldom spent in conversation, for he had commonly
 some book in  " family reading" which was a text for multi-
 plied digressions full of incident  and illustration.  His own
 hand has drawn a picture of these rational and happy even-
 ings.
   " 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 neces-
 sary.  After dinner I lay down, and through the  kind care
 of my friends  was suffered to  sleep, as  too commonly it
 happens, for an hour  and  three quarters."  I  then came
 down, and after a little business heard the young Macaulays
 read  passages from one of those numerous Annuals which
 the wealth and animation of the present day supplies for in-
 teresting the faculties without labour or effort.   We went
 to prayers, and after about  half an  hour, surely well spent,
 we returned to the common room and renewed our reading,
 which I just now stopped, finding how late  it was, and being
 in the singularly favoured  circumstances  of an  old fellow,
 who  is allowed to say ' Come or go, do this or do that,'
 without the appearance of fretfulness.  Then----by say-
 ing, ' 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  reason-
 able remonstrances, as  to endeavour  to abridge  all  that I
 might have added if I had taken up my pen in more favour-
 able 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 understand-
ing or affections, of the most celebrated men who have en-
gaged the attention or called forth the eulogiums of the lite- 
1827.
HIS LOVE OF BOOKS.
501
rati of the last century, you are irresistibly forced to exclaim
in the spirit of my grand favourite,

              * O happy Hymnist, O unhappy bard!'

   Farewell, my dear----.
                       Ever affectionately yours,
                                    W. Wilberforce."

   As the evening wore  away  his thoughts took commonly
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 observe how the contest is go-
ing on between light  and darkness, what  different spots of
this rebellious province  are being brought into subjection to
their rightful Sovereign."
   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 prevented 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 "mere novels;"
and his short criticisms show  how little the acuteness of his
mind was blunted.   " 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 Consti-
tutional History of England in Quarterly.  Southey a bitter
critic,  and works  him with  great  acuteness and force."
" Hearing Lord Orford's Memoirs of George  the Second's
reign—very bitter, and prejudices great, yet accounts curi-
ous."  " 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 delinea-
tions 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."  " 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 
502
life of wilberforce.
1827.
 thought or feeling, word or deed, to any Scriptural principle
 or precept.  On the other hand, Scripture says,' Whatsoever
 ye do in word or deed, do all 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 ex-
 panded, 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, " I  find
 myself growing more attached 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 hum-
 bly hope we shall meet again in a better world."   " When I
 was a younger man I was  tempted to make intellectual con-
 versation my all  in all;  but now I can truly say, that I prefer
 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, " I  seldom 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 morn-
 ing also.  Is it that the society of an able worldly man is
 hereby indicated  to be unsafe to me ?   I had a sort of strug-
 gle about inviting him, as if intimating the wish  to be ac-
 quainted with an  irreligious man, was  showing too great a
 deference for talent.  Is it as a punishment that I have since
 felt so cold and  wandering in my mind 1 ■ 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 how-
 ever instructive, whatever it  seems the intimation of God
 that I should relinquish.   O Lord, cause me to be 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
* Mr. Gurney's sketch- 
1827.      bishop of Calcutta's recollections.        503

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 play-
fulness 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 re-
member," 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  emphatic to say.   I  recollect one senti-
ment Was, that  the passages  so frequent in  Scripture, im-
porting the unwillingness of  the Almighty that the  sinner
should  perish, the invitations  addressed to him to return,
the remonstrances with him on his unbelief, &c. must be in-
terpreted strictly and literally,  or they would  appear to be a
mockery of man's misery, and to involve the  most fearful
imputations on the Divine character.  Evasions of the force
of such  passages  were, he thought,  highly  injurious,  and
went to  sap the whole evidence and bearing of the Christian
revelation.
   " He had a delicate  yet penetrating and microscopic in-
sight into character.  Observations minute, accurate, graphi-
cal,  and often with a tinge of  humour, dropped  from him in
conversation, and when quiet  in his family he would imitate
the voice and manner of the person he was describing (gene-
rally some public  man) in a way to provoke  profuse merri-
ment.   Then he  would  check himself 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 benevolence I need not  speak; but his
 kind construction of doubtful actions, his charitable language
 towards those from whom he  most widely differed, his tho-
 rough forgetfulness of little affronts, were fruits  of that gene-
 ral  benevolence which continually appeared.  The nearer
 you observed him the more the habit of his  mind appeared
 obviously to be modest and lowly.  He was in as little mea-
 sure as possible elated by the love and esteem of almost the
 whole civilized world, which long before his  death had been 
504
life of wilberforce.
1828.
 fixed upon him.  It required some management to draw him
 out in conversation, and therefore  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 eloquence was  poured out, strokes of gentle playful-
 ness and satire fell on all sides,  and  the company were soon
 absorbed 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 spending 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  morn-
 ing; 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 expressing myself  were gone.   Indeed I think I
 have been in  a 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 family, and
 who have heard all  the  stories that  have been told of him,
 may not give credit to  the sincerity and purity of his inten-
 tions, 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  ' Christian year !' I shall have much to tell  you  at
 some future time, of sentiments and ideas of his, all so beau-
tiful, and so true, and so indulgent, for I think nothing more
 striking in him than that spirit of general benevolence which 
1828.
HIS CHAPEL.
505
governs all that he says;  joined to  the  extreme beauty of
his voice, it does indeed make him appear ' 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, admi-
rable old man !   I have been praying that I may be enabled
to imitate  whatever is imitable in this excellent being;  his
talents and attractions are not to be  acquired, but is it not a
cheering reflection that such principles as his may be  gained
by all 1"
  One occupation of his time at Highwood is too character-
istic to be omitted.   Assistance to  young men of promise
had  always  been with him  a favourite  charity, and the in-
clination 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 reward enough ; but
he had seen two others, who owed all to him, fill with credit
different judicial stations ; and at this very time the highest
honours of one  of  our Universities were obtained by  twro
young men, for whose education he had in like manner as-
sisted 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 holidays 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.
  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 probable;"
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 Build-
ing 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 op-
position and  contention, in the midst of which he eminently
manifested in private, as he had long done in public  life, the
meekness of true Christian wisdom under calumny and false-
hood.                       ,    .,,,..         j
  This most Christian undertaking involved him in cares and
                           43 
506
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1830.
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 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 ac-
cumulated money.  He had retrenched his expenses to give
and not to save ;  and he had given largely and  constantly.
" You probably know," was an incidental testimony  to his
unseen charity, from a distant 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 obli-
gations was such that they raised, not  mortified, the objects
of them.  Whenever  I alluded to  the subject his usual reply
was to this  effect, ' 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 foun-
dation of present  usefulness, and I  trust of future  blessed-
ness."
  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 ne-
cessarily large. But believe me there is a special 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 happiness,  than  if  I had been
saving £20,000 or £30,000  of what has been given away."
  He had felt  therefore some inconvenience from " reducing
his rents,  which were never high,  full 37 per  cent.," at a
time when his family  were most expensive to him. His pro-
perty had been further lessened by his  raising a considera-
ble capital in order to embark  his eldest son,  whose  health
appeared unequal to the practice of the law, in a large farm-
ing speculation,  " to  be actually  managed" as  he thought
" by----," a man in whose principles and  practical  ac- 
1830.
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.
507
quaintance with the business, he at that time entertained the
highest confidence.  The event did not confirm his expecta-
tions ; and in the very month when Mr. Williams's pamphlet
appeared, he found that to secure  the remainder of his for-
tune, he must submit to the immediate and very heavy loss
of nearly all the capital which had been invested in the bu-
siness, and retrench greatly on his usual style of living.  Yet
he was still as free from care as ever, and his " solitary walk
with the  psalmist," was  two days after the full discovery of
his loss.  Amongst many gratifying instances of his unbroken
cheerfulness, an interesting sample may be  found in his re-
newed 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 une-
qualled !" " We are spending a little time at this  to me deep-
ly interesting place.  I always visit  the  funeral urn—H. T.
Jan. 16th, 181-5—M. T. Oct. 12th, 1815. Sir James Mack-
intosh and his family  now live in one of the  houses  which
are built upon the ground which Henry  (Thornton) 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 room, at the end  of the Com-
mon, and chats with the utmost freedom to all the passen-
gers in the Clapham stage as he goes  and comes from Lon-
don.   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 peculiarly
happy.  " Do you remember Madame  de Maintenon's  ex-
clamation, ' Oh the misery of having to amuse an old King,
qui n'est pas amusable !'  Now if I were called upon to de-
scribe Wilberforce in one word, I should say he was the most
< amusable' man I ever met with in my life. Instead of having
to think what subjects will interest him, it is perfectly impos-
sible to  hit  on one that does not.  I never saw any one who
touched life at so many points ; and this is the more remark-
able in a man who is supposed to live absorbed in the con-
templation  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." 
508
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1830-
   " 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 dif-
 ferent direction.   This  peculiarity belonged to his  genius,
 and was a  means  of  multiplying the instruction which his
 conversation afforded. But the volubility of his intellect was
 balanced by the stability and faithfulness of his  moral quali-
 ties. 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, perse-
 vering, and undaunted labourer."
   And  such he still continued,  when any great  cause woke
 up his former fires.  " Retired as he was from  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  speaking  and  writing he
 repeatedly bore his public testimony in favour of the great
 principles of  the Abolitionists; and his warm  encourage-
 ments 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  maintained.   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  themselves 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 travelled as bache-
 lors, and now he has  a  house full  of descendants;  and I
also  have five children  and a grandchild 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, ehild'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
* Joseph John Gurney. 
 1830.          causes of his cheerfulness.           509

frequently as it ought to  be, that in the kind providence of
God I was born an  Englishman.   Go through the whole
earth and enumerate every part of it, and you will  find no-
thing like our own  country.  An Englishman  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 constant  influence  of  this  spirit  of
thankfulness ;  and I believe there is not any one, who has at
all observed the dealings of Providence in his own  instance
with any 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 con-
demnation 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 leading 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."
  " The main fault of the present day," he now repeatedly
declared, "is the making knowledge and intellectual advance-
ment the great object of pursuit, instead of that moral im-
provement by which we may be fitted  for a higher and bet-
ter 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 some lineaments of the moral
image of God, for  they shall see Him as He is, and then shall
know even as they now are known."  This conviction made
him still watchful  to redeem the  time.  " This evening,"  he
says, Feb. 15th, "I 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 sufferings.  And  could pains be required  by
                          43* 
510
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1831.
Him 1  O then, my soul, strive—to him that overcometh only,
the promise is assured."   " My future state should now be
my grand, indeed -comparatively speaking, my sole concern,
God's kind providence has granted to me a residue of life
after its business is over.  I know I must be near death, per-
haps 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 aug-
ment my eternal happiness, besides enjoying delightful com-
munion 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  re-
gulations—"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 va-
lue.  Why not secure  many similar seasons 1   At my time
of life what so proper or so likely to make me useful to others
as thus walking with God 1"  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  literally  kept in
perfect peace through every trial. Those who lived with him
and marked his unmixed cheerfulness could scarcely believe
that he felt as much on relinquishing  in 1831 his house at
Highwood, as a letter written 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 suffered to take place  till all  my
children were educated, and nearly all of them placed  out 
1831.
HIS LEAVING HIGHWOOD.
511
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 followed 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 so-
cial 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  I 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 ' having no cer-
tain  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 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 temporary illness, " I can scarce under-
stand," 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 well-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.  " Bless-
 ed  be  God,"  he says, during her illness, " we have every 
512
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1831.
reason to  be thankful for the state of mind we witness in
her : a holy, calm, humble  reliance on her  Saviour, enables
her to enter the dark valley with Christian hope, leaning as
it were on her Redeemer's arm, and supported and cheered
by the blessed promises of His gospel. We are in the hands
of our heavenly  Father, and I  am sure no one has hitherto
had such reason  as myself 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 " walk by faith rather than by sight."   " I
have often heard," he says, " that sailors on  a voyage will
drink  ' friends  astern'  till they are  half way over,  then
' friends ahead.'  With me  it has  been  ' 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 that they should not long be parted.  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 com-
fort 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 con-
ducing to her recovery.  It is certainly one of the most de-
lightful  of all possible  retirements.   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 intended 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 thank-
ful as well as rejoicing 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> 
1832.          RESIDENCE IN ISLE OF WIGHT.            513

library, park, &c. of an old friend, of such dimensions. This
event comes in such  a way as strongly to confirm the per-
suasion that it is an indication of the favour of God; and I
cannot but recognize a providential 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 un-
consciously the instrument of granting us our wish."
  Here and in the Isle of Wight, to the great joy of those he
visited, his remaining years were  spent.  Personal 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 witness their enjoyment
of a large share of domestic comforts, and their conscientious
discharge of  the duties of the most important of all  profes-
sions."
  " We are passing  our time here very agreeably;  indeed
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 1Y1 us, towards the gracious Ordainer of all
things, for granting us, in the  evening of life, after the toss-
ings 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  dis-
charge of its most important duties.  And then  that lovely
baby !  What  a manifest benevolence  there  is  in  the Al-
mighty's  having  rendered young children so eminently at-
tractive, considering the  degree  in  which their very exist-
ence must depend on the disposition of those around them,
to bear with their  little infirmities, sustain their weakness,
and supply their wants.  How little could I expect to com-
plete my  seventy-second year!  Yet  it  is on this day com-
pleted, and I am  suffering no pain, and my complaints those
 which are salutary without producing great bodily suffering,
 like the kind suggestions of a  friend tenderly watching over
 me, and endeavouring to obtain for me the benefits, without 
514
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1832.
my feeling the evils commonly attendant on providential vi-
sitations.  Really the loss of fortune has been delayed till it
brings with it  some positive  comforts, without producing
inconvenience or vexation; my children's education having
been  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 stock 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 gra-
dually and by moderate degrees !  How good a friend God
is to me!   When I have any complaint it is always so miti-
gated 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 disturbed  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 manifestly 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 hear-
ing Sharon Turner's Sacred History, he notes in his pocket-
book  the  importance of "meditating 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," he
said,  " instead of having an opposite effect, warm my heart.
I think of eighty millions of stars in our nebula, and of two
thousand nebulae, and  I  feel elevated and thankful to bear 
1832.            HIS RETROSPECT OF LIFE.             515
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 at-
tributes of God. " Retire into thy closet," is one of the last en-
tries 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 ex-
tent 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 dispensa-
tions."
   His early walk, and his mid-day employments remained
unaltered;  and in the afternoon he still took as heretofore,
considerable exercise; pacing at East Farleigh, 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 unfrequented shore.
   His evenings were as  bright as ever,  and though his
power  of retaining new impressions was greatly impaired,
the colours of his earlier  recollections  seemed scarcely to
fade.
   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 ob-
jects and pursuits.  " Much struck to-day," says his Diary,
 " with T. as the successful lawyer at his best. How little has
 he been (I fear) preparing for another world !  His father was
 an artisan ; what  will it  signify in a little time whether he had
 remained on that level or risen  as he has 1"   "  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 path."   " How much  ra-
 ther " 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

 1  Neve/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 indignation, after 
516
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1832.
hearing such complaints, " he should remember, that to re-
sign 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 " a  sadly unprofitable servant," and
needed constantly " the soothing consideration 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 op-
portunities of service;" just  as a friendly preface to his work
on  Christianity 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 in-
fluence 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 when " he left the East, one of
his  chief wishes was to see  Mr. Wilberforce," was still alto-
gether lowly in his  own sight, and could say  with natural
simplicity  when treated in a place of public concourse with
some marks of courtesy, " How very civil  they  were to me;
they made  way for me, and treated me as if I were  some
great man !"
  Almost the only growing mark of age was a  still increas-
ing  love of that rest to  which he was drawing nearer.  " The
grasshopper 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 un-
pleasant 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
perhaps they ought to  have  been  by the various clouds that
are  now gathering around us with such appalling blackness. 
1832.
DISRELISH FOR POLITICS.
517
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 mitigating 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 princi-
ples  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 heard that he was  taken ill,  and called upon him.
When I had sat some  time chatting with him, but without
alluding to religious 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  Scrip-
ture."  " How can you expect," was the reply, " to be able
to believe, when you only turn your mind to the difficulties
of the subject 1"  But what  had  made his  friend read  this
language in his looks, was very much that sense  of hopeless-
ness which he  was  most desirous  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, ' him that cometh unto  Me I will in no wise cast

   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
                            44 
518
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1833.
with the sentiments and  dispositions 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 signature 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 maintained with the spirit of the consti-
tution.  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.
  There was now no question about immediate emancipa-
tion ; but  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 Indian system; but
to admit the principle of previous compensation for expected
injury was only  to  postpone  for ever all improvements of
the system.   Against this therefore he all along contended,
even whilst he maintained 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 objec-
tion to grant the colonists  the relief that may be due to them
for  any real injuries, which they may ultimately prove them-
selves to have sustained.  But it must be after an impartial
investigation of the merits of each case by a fair and com-
petent  tribunal.   I have no objection 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."
  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 a short visit 
1833.
HIS ILLNESS.
519
to the Isle of Wight, arrived at Bath on the 17th  of May.
The waters, to which in great measure he owed the pro-
longation  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 vita? 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 con-
 sideration 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 1  Within
 200  years will  do.  But  how immense 200 years   now
 seem !"
   Meanwhile the calmness with which  he was preparing to
 close his  own career is apparent from the following letter. 
520
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1833.
            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  subse-
 quently, which leads me to believe that  my decline is pro-
 ceeding Jess rapidly than I had  supposed, though not  less
 seriously.  There has been a general disposition in the sys-
 tem 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 se-
 curity against the extinction of the Calthorpe name.  My
 dear  friend, may God  bless and  prosper you,  especially in
 the most  important  particulars.   Oh what cause for thank-
 fulness have you for having been called to the knowledge
 and feeling of salvation through the Redeemer ! May you
 grow in grace more and  more.   Give my affectionate re-
 membrances to Lady Charlotte, and Frederick,  also to Miss
 Calthorpe when you next  write, and  be assured I am
       Ever sincerely and affectionately yours,
                                     W.  Wilberforce.
   The cover I enclose  is  to spare the finances of a widow
 with  six or seven children, and  a very slender  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-merciful  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 
1833.
HIS CALMNESS OF MIND.
521
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 thankfulness
and peace as for its humility.  His youngest son, who was
with him  at this period, recorded at the moment various
memoranda  of his state  of feeling.  " Saturday,  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 trying me with  illness of this  kind,
which, though very distressing, is scarcely to be called pain,
rather than  with severe  suffering, which  my bodily consti-
tution could hardly bear.'  When his   medical  attendant
came,'  Thank God,'  he said, ' I 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, cor-
recting  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 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 pre-
sent discomfort, he  burst  out  repeatedly into exclamations
on the goodness  of God   in these little things, providing
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 enjoy-
 ment to trace His hand in  them.'
   " Soon after he said,  ' What is  that  text, ' He hath hid
 pride from  man r   I was thinking how  God had taught him
 the folly of pride, because the most beautiful and delicate wo-
 man, and the proudest man, of the highest birth and station,
 who was never approached but with deference and formali-
 ty 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
                             44* 
522
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1833.
eleventh verse, ' Take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.' I read,
• Oh give me the comfort of Thy help again.'  ' It is very odd,
I thought it had been ' Restore unto me the joy of Thy salva-
tion.'   Do look what it is in the Bible Version.'  I found it
as he said.  ' What  a very remarkable passage !  It seems
like an anticipation of the  privileges of the new dispensa-
tion.'
  " He spoke much of the delight which he had in the affec-
tion 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.)   «I 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 thank-
fulness,' he exclaimed, ' that I never suffer from headache!'
  " Half-past eight, Sunday  morning. '  Remember,  my dear
H.,' he said, ' 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  gracious. 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 was
stronger.  I hope you always take care of that.  From our
familiarity with it, we do not feel  about the Scripture at all
as we  should do,  if we  were to hear for the first time that
there w7as a communication from God to man.
  ' Think of our Saviour coming down 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  Saviour'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.
  «I have been thinking of that delightful text, which has of-
ten comforted me, ' Be careful for nothing, &c.'  (He went on
as far as ' The peace of God shall keep your hearts and minds
through Christ  Jesus.')  ' To be sure,'  (he  spoke with his
voice faltering with emotion,) • it is the same Almighty power
which  enables Him to watch over all the world, every crea- 
1833.
NOTES DURING HIS ILLNESS.
523
ture, beast, bird, or insect, and to attend to all the concerns
of every individual.'
  " Four o'clock.  Dinner time.   ' I 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 arrangements  of infinite wisdom !
  ' When I think how many poor  people are suffering, with-
out the luxuries that I possess, and the kind friends I have
about me, 1 am quite ashamed of my comforts.'
  " 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
sent word,' he said, ' to Sir Walter Scott that he had not at
all done  justice to that part of his History, (of Buonaparte,)
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 shipboard, 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 1 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.  ' 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.
   'Mrs.  Hannah  More told  me  that towards the end of
 Johnson's life, if he was asked how  he was, he would an- 
524
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1833.
swer, ' rather better, I thank my God through Jesus Christ.'
And so to whatever he was asked.'
  A friend who happened to be passing through Bath,  two
days afterwards, (July  11th,) paid him a visit which he thus
describes.  " When I arrived at the house on the South Pa-
rade which he then occupied, I found that he had been suf-
fering severely from  a  bilious attack; and his  lady, whose
attentions to him were most  tender and unremitting, ap-
peared 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 in-
creased age since I had last  seen him, as well as much  deli-
cacy.  He received me with the warmest marks of affection,
and seemed to be delighted  by the unexpected arrival of an
old friend.   I 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 kingdom of rest and peace.   In the mean
time the illuminated expression of his furrowed countenance,
with  his clasped and uplifted hands, were indicative of pro-
found 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, was 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 understanding  shall keep  your hearts and
minds through Jesus  Christ.'    While  his frail nature was
shaking, and his mortal tabernacle seemed ready  to be dis-
solved, this '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 argument upon  it in your little 
1833.
STARTS FOR LONDON.
525
work on evidence.  The Epistle to the Galatians contains a
noble exhibition of doctrine. 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.'
  ' With regard  to  myself' he added, ' I have nothing what-
soever to urge, but  the poor Publican's plea, ' God be merci-
ful to me a sinner.'   These words were expressed  with  pe-
culiar feeling and emphasis,  and  have  since called to my
remembrance his own definition of the word mercy—' kind-
ness to  those that deserve punishment.'  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 appear1?'"*
  The predominance of these feelings may be seen in a re-
mark which he made to his son a few days afterwards, speak-
ing 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 there-
fore  towards London, though with  no expectation 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 indicated will."  His purpose was to
spend a few days at a house which was lent him by his cou-
sin, Mrs. Lucy Smith, of whose kindness  he readily availed
himself, observing,  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
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,

  * Familiar Sketch, by Joseph John Gurney. His son has recorded the
last remark as " The Epistle to the Philippians is social and domestic. 
526
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1833.
and his mind seemed to travel back through the long space
which had intervened.  " How differently time appears," he
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, (turn-
ing to his servant,) I have not my Psalter this morning.  Do
you know where it is '?"
  The day after he reached town, he expressed  himself as
" very anxious to dedicate the short remainder of time God
might yet allot him, to the cultivation  of union with  Christ,
and to the acquiring more of His spirit. My private prayers,"
he said, " are much the same as those  in the family,  pardon
and grace.   To-night [Saturday] particularly with regard to
the week past."
  " Perhaps I  have been wrong in not praying  more with
others. But  I never felt that T could open my heart with per-
fect 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  feel  the  wish to do the will of
God, and I am sure I cannot say that.  Now S. in his prayers
often uses expressions of that  kind, which quite amaze me in
a man so sincere as he is."
   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 always disposed
people to treat me so kindly, and with  such attention ! Popu-
larity is certainly a dangerous thing;"—[then after a pause;]
—" the antidote is  chiefly in  the feeling one has ; how very
differently they would regard me, if  they knew me really!"
A friend who  at  this time came in asked, " Well! how are
you 1"  "I am like a clock which is almost run down."  On
the Monday after his arrival, he received a visit from a party
of children.  After they were gone,  he said, " What  a de-
lightful  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." 
1833.
HIS LAST DAYS.
527
  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 re-
mark that this circumstance produced no effect  upon his
feelings—" 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 over-
whelmed, 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 to-
tally suspended by a painful  local disorder, which prevented
him from walking.  The morning of Friday (July 26th) was
pleasant, and I assisted  before  his breakfast to  carry him in
 a chair to the  steps in front  of the house, that  he  might en-
 joy  the air for a few moments.  Here he presented  a  most
 striking appearance, looking forth with calm  delight  upon
 trees  and grass, the  freshness and vigour of which con-
 trasted 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  affec-
 tionate  and he received with great cheerfulness the visits of
 many old  associates, from whom  he  had  long been  sepa-
 rated  The last words which I heard from him  related to one
 of these  whose religious opinions he had for many years la-
 mented '  ' 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 receive him,  on the follow-
 ing Tuesday, not knowing that  before that time  he was to
 be  a  ' partaker of the inheritance of the saints  in light.'"
    It was altogether a striking combination of circumstances
  that he should have come to London  at that  time—to die.
  The Bill for the Abolition of Slavery was read  for the second 
528
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1833.
 time in the House of Commons on the Friday 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 was known to be in
 progress. That this anticipation should be so exactly realized,
 added  signal interest to an event, which in  the course of
 nature might be  shortly  expected.
  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 termination of such
 a life.  The concurrence of two such incidents seemed pro-
 videntially 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.   ' Most true,'
 he said.  ' I suppose  you have never  seen them, but when
the  Duke of Wellington 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 evi-
 dence about Finance, the Duke  of Wellington and Lord Har-
rowby 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  attached to me, is 
1833.
HIS DEATH.
529
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 near his end ;
much nearer than from what his physician says I trust  is
the case.   He speaks very little as if looking forwTard to fu-
ture happiness; but  he seems more like a person in the ac-
tual enjoyment of heaven within:  he  hardly 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 thankful-
ness have I that  I am not lying in pain, and in a suffering
posture, as so many people are !  Certainly it is a great pri-
vation 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* 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 followed 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.   During an interval in  the evening of Sun-
day, ' I am in a very distressed state,' he said, alluding ap-
parently to his bodily condition.   ' Yes,'  it was answered,
•but you have your feet on the Rock.'   ' I do not venture,'
he replied, ' 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
• July 27.
  45 
530
LIFE OF WILBERFORCE.
1833.
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 interment,
in accordance with a  promise made to his brother-in-law,'
Mr. Stephen, a vault at Stoke Newington, where  his  sister
and his daughter had been buried.  A direction to this effect
was given in his will, a circumstance however not actually
ascertained till after the funeral.  But his family  had no hesi-
tation 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 character-
istic  distinction  that, without quitting the rank  in  which
Providence had placed him, he had cast on  it a lustre pe-
culiarly his own.   Nothing therefore could be  more appro-
priate, than that  the Bishops  of the Church, the  Princes of
the Blood, the great warrior of the age, the  King's  chief ser-
vants, and the highest legal functionaries—whatever England
had most renowned for  talent and  greatness—should  as-
semble as they did  around his unpretending bier. His simple
name was its noblest decoration.
  When his funeral reached Westminster Abbey on  Satur-
day, Aug. 5th, the procession was  joined  by the members
then  attending the two Houses of parliament.   Public busi-
ness 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 imme-
diate  friends.  The  Prebendary then  in residence, one  of
his few surviving college 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 observing
the striking testimony which it bears to that  inspired 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 de-
scribed.  Yet his  Christian faith was from first to last his
talisman of  happiness.  Without  it  the  buoyancy of his
youthful  spirits led to  a frivolous  waste  of life,  not  more
culpable than unsatisfying. With it  came lofty conceptions,
—an energy  which triumphed over  sickness and languor, 
1833.
CONCLUSION.
531
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 sus-
taining principle, his affection towards his fellow creatures
was not dulled by the intercourse of life, nor his sweetness of
temper impaired 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 cheer-
fulness which this world  could  neither give nor take away.
They poured  even  upon his  earthly pilgrimage the  antici-
pated 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."
THE END, 
 
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 circumstance of my having  Dr.
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 ne, 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  con-
siderable acquaintance with ecclesiastical  history; just principles
of religion; and as  affectionate 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  companions,  and
livin-r for the most part in society which, whatever might be the
opinion assented to by  the  understanding, exhibited  no  traces of
spirituality  in its  ordinary  conversation, had induced a habit of
abstaining from all religious topics in his common intercourse, and
even an appearance of  levity  which  would  have prevented his
being known, except by those who were extremely intimate with
him  or rather by those who being themselves also religious were
likelv to draw forth his  secret thoughts and feelings, to  have any
more reflection than that average measure for which we are to give
ueople credit, whose only visible  attention to religion consists in
their goino- to church on a Sunday.  A gracious Providence  pre-
pared himn 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 temperance
of his habits; but had he been my fellow-traveller I  should never
                              45* 
534
APPENDIX.
have  benefited by him in the most  important of  all concerns r
indeed I am persuaded that  we  neither of us should ever have
touched on  the subjeet of religion except in the most superficial
and cursory way.
  To my surprise Dr. Burgh declined  accepting my proposal, and
I next invited Dr. Milner to accompany me, chiefly prompted by his
acknowledged talents and acquirements, and by my experience ot
his cheerfulness, good nature, and powers of social entertainment.
It was the more important to me to secure sueh 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 grand-
father 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.  I must go
further; had I known at first what his opinions were, it would have
decided me against making him the offer :  so true is it that a gra-
cious 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 pre-
judice 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 discussions,
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 assented
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 con-
versation.   I  began  to think what folly  it was, nay, what madness,
to  continue  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 offera
of the gospel were  universal  and free, in short that happiness,
eternal  happiness, was at my option.
   As soon  as  I reflected seriously upon these subjects, the deep 
APPENDIX.
535
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 opportunities,  and  talents;  and  for several
months I continued to feel the deepest convictions of my own sin-
fulness, rendered only the more intense by the unspeakable mercies
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 conscience.  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 I might best
redeem whatever of  life  might remain to me.  Parliamentary
business both of a public and private  nature (for wherever any
landed, commercial, or manufacturing interest was in question, the
county of York was interested) found me full employment 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 incommoded by country hospitalities.   I break-
fasted 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 uncommon kind-
ness and  liberality which I  experienced from my constituents.  In
former times the county members displayed their equipages annually
at the races, and constituted a part of the grand jury at the summer
assizes ■ 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 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 attending  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 meet- 
536
APPENDIX.
ings, and when there I always took  an active part in their  pro-
ceedings.
  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 principles
taken place a year sooner, humanly  speaking I never could have
become member for Yorkshire.  The means I took, and the exer-
tions I made, in pursuing that object, were such as I could not have
used after my religious 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 I 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 opportunity  of
making myself known as a public man; it led to my  formation of
political  connexions, and  to  my cultivation  of the art of public
speaking—all of which were among the means  that prepared the
way for my representing the county.
  AH circumstances considered .. my mercantile origin, 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 men-
tioned 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 prepared myself for the public debate that was soon
to follow  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  supporters, 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
°f'aggrandizement would sometimes present themselves to my mind,
and court my adoption. Various gentlemen were raised to the Upper 
APPENDIX.
537
House, whom the partiality we feel where we ourselves are in ques-
tion, might excuse my considering as  having no better pretensions
than myself to such an elevation: and besides the solid advantages
of a permanent seat in the legislature, the securing of which in-
volved the possessor in no expense or trouble, the Upper House ap-
peared from various considerations to afford a more favourable  field
for bringing forward religious and moral improvements; 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 states-
men (for the last century).  How different in this respect are they,
though blessed  with the light of Christianity, from the great legis-
lators of antiquity, in whom the conservation or improvement of the
national morals was always the primary object of their care!   My
fortune too was greater than that of some of those who were raised
to the peerage;  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 appetencies.  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
carvimr for myself, (if I may so express myself,) of being the arti-
ficer 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 indi-
cations of the Divine will to be collected  from the passing events
and circumstances, considered in combination  with his own qualifi-
cations and  dispositions: his grand inquiry continuing always the
same, how he may best promote  the  glory of God, and  secure hia
own salvation and that of those whose  interests  are consigned by
Providence to his care.                    •-,*••..        j
   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 parha-
mentary interest  was the basis of their  elevation: hence the in-
ference  formerly to be drawn from the support of Commoners of
lanre landed property, that the ministers who enjoyed it  enjoyed
Ssf the  esteem  and confidence  of the public, was no longer to be
drawn  nor were such men entitled to more credit for the indepen-
dence and purity of their political support than the representative*
of the mart ordinary boroughs.  Various were  the instances of
countrvTentlemen of family and  fortune, who appeared for a time
5o be honouring government by their support, sometimes m opposi-
tion  to their Imily habits or political connexions, when at length
out came the Gazette, proclaiming the explanation of their conduct,
or at kast bringing it into doubt  with those  who were disposed to
Bu-oect the puritv 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 
538                       APPENDIX.
 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 succeed 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 worldly aggran-
 dizement in one, whose principles ought  to have  moderated his
 desire of earthly distinctions, and to have rendered him even jeal-
 ous  of an advancement which would  be likely to augment his
 temptations,  and thereby increase  the danger of his making ship-
 wreck of his faith.
   If such  were my  conclusions in the circumstances in which I
 was then placed, how much have they been strengthened since 1
 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 eye, 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 noblemen  who are naturally led to associate with people of 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. 
INDEX.
              A.

Abusive assailant, answer to, 407.
Addington and Pitt reconciled,
  266.
Adult schools, 391.
Alexander, Emperor of Russia,
  383; letter to, on convention
  for general Abolition, 384; in-
  terviews with, 385.
Allen,  William, his character,
  339,
America, interest for, 312, 327.
American war, 20, 340,343, 356,
  386.
Anti-saccharism, 108.
Ante-room, Mr. Wilberforce's de-
  scribed, 88.
Austerlitz, battle of, 271.

              B.

Bible  Society established,  245,
  306.
Burke,  Right Hon. Edmund, his
  death-bed approbation of' Prac-
  tical Christianity,' 183.
Burleigh, Lord, his reply to Wal-
  singham, 270.

              C.

Carey,  Dr. his character,  369.
Challenged, 113.
Christian Observer, established,
  207.
Charities,  Wilberforce's,  205,
  227.
Cheddar, establishment of schools
  at, 81.
Christophe, correspondence with,
  426, 439, 456.
Church patronage, 199.
Corn Law Bill and riots, 397.

              D.

Daughter, death of, 461.
Duel, challenged to, 113.
Duel, Pitt and Tierney, 197.

              E.

Earlham family, 408.
i^dgeworth,  Miss,  her  Tales,
  318
Eldon,' T ord, 229.
Election for Hull, 19.
        First for Yorkshire, 33.
East India, interest for, 128,  298,
  303, 343, 365.
Elwes, John, (the miser,) 492.
Escape, providential, 253.

              F.

Female  Anti-Slavery  Associa-
  tions, objections to, 494.
Favours, government, 199.
Finley, visit to, in Newgate,  241.
Franklin, Dr. Benjamin, 28,169.
French levity, 492.
French Revolutionary principles,
  spread of, 121.
Fox, Right Hon. C, death of,  279,
  491. 
540
INDEX.
              G.

 Gaming, cured of, 20.
 Gurney, Joseph  John, Esq., 408,
   483, 498; his  character of Mr.
   Wilberforce, 508, 525.

              H.

 Habeas Corpus Suspension Bill,
   145.
 Hale, Sir Matthew, 103.
 Hayti, interest for, 427.
 Heber,  Reginald,   (afterwards
   Bishop  of Calcutta,) his first
   introduction  to  Wilberforce,
   285.

              J.

 Jay, John, Esq.  (American  en-
   voy,) 141.
 Jay, William, 213.
 Johnson, Dr. 492, 523.

              K.

 Knox, Alexander, Esq. 337.

              L.

 La Fayette, Marquis de, reasons
   for supporting the motion for
   his release, 171.
Latrobe, Rev. C.  Ignatius, his
   letter on the origin of the Abo-
   lition of the Slave Trade, 62.
Londonderry,  Marquis  of,  his
  death, 464, 491.
Loss of fortune, 510.

              M.

Mackintosh, Sir  James, 507.
Marriage, 185.
Martyn, Rev. Henry, his char-
  acter of Mr. Wilberforce, 257.
Maynooth College, 287, 300.
Methodists, 208, 217.
 Middle Passage Bill, 71.
 Milner, Dr.  Isaac, accompanies
   Wilberforce to Nice,  34; his
   religious principles, 37.
 Mimicry,  Wilberforce cured of
   the practice of,  by Lord Cam-
   den, 23.
 More, Hannah, 80, 33.
 More,  Martha, (sister  of  Han-
   nah,) her death, 447.

              N.

 Nelson, Lord, 208.
 Newgate, visit to, 241.
 Newton, Rev. John,  visit to, 46;
   letters to and  from, 46, 149,
   212, 261.
 North, Lord, 23.

              O.

 Owen, Robert, Esq.  of Lanark,
   359.

              P.

 Paine, Thomas, 122.
 Paley, Archdeacon, 121.
 Parental feelings, 451.
 Patronage, government, use and
   abuse of, 199.
Perceval,  Right Hon.  Spencer,
   273,  305;  his  assassination,
   344.
Pitt, Right  Hon. William, 22;
   visits France  with  Wilber-
   force, 26;  advised to become
   a suitor for Neckar's daughter,
   28 ;   political  quarrel,  144 ;
   renewal  of friendship,  149;
   his duel with Tierney,  197 ;
   last illness, and death, 272.
Popery, 287.
' Practical Christianity,' work on,
   131;  published, 179.
Prince    Regent,    (afterwards
   George IV.) interviews with,
   404. 
INDEX.
541
              Q,

Quakers, interview with, 400.
Quakers' Relief Bill, 163.

              R.

Richmond, Rev. Legh, 212, 309.
Roman Catholic Emancipation,
  300, 360.

               S.

Sabbath, love for, 77.
St. Paul's smaller Epistles, 524.
Scott, Sir  Waller, his ' Lady of
  the Lake,' 316.
Scott, Rev.  Thomas, 87,  207,
  347.
Sedition Bills, 154.  Yorkshire
  meeting in support of, 156.
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, Esq.
  491.
Sierra Leone, 193.
Slave Trade, Mr. Wilberforce's
   condemnation of, at the age of
   fourteen,  16;  causes  which
   led him to the Abolition of, 61;
   Wilberforce  brings  forward
   the question of  Abolition, 79;
   Slave Trade  Abolition Bill
   passes  the Commons,  but is
   lost in the Lords, 260;  Aboli-
   tion Bill passes both Houses,
   284.
 Society  for  the  Reformation of
   Manners, establishment  of, 59.
 Southey,  Robert,  LL.D., 339,
   433, 434,  438.
 Stael, Madame de, 377.
 Sunday newspapers, 211.
 Sunday travelling, 305.
 Swearing  reproved, 100.
 Sunday Association, 193.

               T.

 Test and Corporation Acts, 89.
 Thornton, John, Esq. letter from,
  50; his death and character,
  95.
Toleration Act, 227.
Toussaint Louverture, 523.

              U.

Unwin, Rev. John, 53.

              V.

Venn, Rev.  John, 131, 238.

              W.

Waterloo, battle of, 401.
Watts,  Dr.  Isaac, his 'Hymns
  for Children,' 500.
Wesley, Rev. John, 85; his ' last
  words,' 99.
Wesley, Rev.  Charles, 326.
Whitefield,  Rev. George, 149.
Wilberforce William,
  1768.   Transferred,  on  the
     death  of his  father, to the
     care of his uncle at Wim-
     bledon, 14;  his early ac-
     quaintance  with Scripture,
     and habits of  devotion, 15.
  1771. Removed, by his mother,
     from the  care of his uncle,
     to Hull, 15 ; enters into the
     gayeties and amusements of
     that town, 15; his  talents
     for general society, and skill
     in singing,  16.
  1773." His  early  abomination
     of the Slave Trade, 16.
  1776. Entered  at St. John's
     College,  Cambridge,   16;
     picture of his college life by
     the Rev. T.  Gisborne, 17;
     by  himself, and  by  Lord
     Clarendon, 17.
   1780. Resolves to enter upon
     public  life, and canvasses
     for the town of Hull, 18;
     repairs to London to secure
     the  non-resident freemen, 
542
INDEX.
  18; frequents the gallery of
  the House of Commons, 18 ;
  forms  an   intimacy  with
  Mr- Pitt, 18 ; his coming of
  age celebrated, 18; returned
  for Hull, 19; comes to Lon-
  don, and elected a member
  of the leading cluhs,  and
  immersed  in  politics  and
  fashion, cured of gambling,
  20.
1781. Makes his  first speech
  in the House of Commons,
  21;  residence at  Rayrigg,
  on the  banks  of  Winder-
  mere, 21.
1782.  Opposes Lord North's
  administration, 23.
1783. Cured by Lord Camden
  of the art of mimicry, 23;
  his dangers from the temp-
  tation of ambition, 23; fo-
  reign tour  with  Pitt  and
  Eliot, 26.
1784. Great  meeting at York
  against the coalition, 30;
  forms the project of standing
  for Yorkshire, 31 ; suddenly
  proposed to represent  the
  county, 32; elected for Hull,
  32;  travels to Nice, accom-
  panied by Isaac Milner, 34.
1787.  Establishes the Society
  for the Reformation of Man-
  ners, 59; travels round the
  country to  insure the suc-
  cess  of  his plan, 60; de-
  votes himself to  the Aboli-
  tion of the  Slave Trade, 61.
1789. New year, commences
  a, time-account,   75;  pre-
  pares to move for the Aboli-
  tion, 78; brings the question
  before the House,  79;  visits
  Hannah More, 80; visit to
  Cheddar—assists in the  es-
  tablishment of schools, there,
  81.
1790. Supports Test Act, 90;
  re-elected for Yorkshire, 92.
1791.  Moves  the  Abolition
  question, 96.
1792. In personal danger from
  Kimber, 114; French citi-
  zenship .conferred on him by
  the Convention, 117.  v
1793. His first great difference
  with Pitt, 123; is prevented
  from  speaking against war
  with  France, 124;  brings
  forward his plan of national
  religious  instruction for In-
  dia, 128;  begins his work
  on 'Practical Christianity,1
  131.
1795. Temporary alienation of
  Pitt,  143; and  displeasure
  of his  friends and  consti-
  tuents, 144;  cut  by  the
  King  at the levee,  144;
  the country  against  him,
  144; his  intercourse with
  Pitt  renewed,   153;   his
  constituents displeased, 150;
  tour in Yorkshire, 152 ;  at-
  tends  the Yorkshire meet-
  ing in support of the Trea-
  son and Sedition Bills, 157;
  gives notice that he will re-
  new  his  Abolition motion,
  160.
1796. Obtains  leave to bring
  in his Abolition  Bill,  161;
  supports   Quakers'   Relief
  Bill, 163; sets off for Hull,
  164; canvasses the county,
  165;  is  re-elected,  165;
  supports  motion  for release
  of La Fayette, 171.
1797. Illness,  visit to  Bath,
   175;   ' Practical    Chris-
   tianity'  published, 179; re-
   solves  to marry, 185;  his
  marriage, 187;  engaged  in
  establishing   the   Church
   Missionary Society,  192. 
INDEX.
543
1798. Association for the Bet-
  ter Observance of Sunday,
  193; again  brings  forward
  the Abolition question, 196;
  gives notice of a motion on
  Pitt's duel, and relinquishes
  it on finding.that Pitt would
  retire from public  life, 19"/ ;
  writes letter on church pre-
  ferment, 199; his charities,
  205 ; engaged in  establish-
  ing the' Christian Observer,'
  207; exertions on behalf of
  Jersey Methodists, 209.
1799. Brings  forward  his mo-
  tion for immediate Abolition,
  209;  supports  Lord  Bel-
  grave's Sunday Newspaper
  Bill, 211; temporary retire-
  ment to Bath, 213.
18Q0. Occupied about scar-
  city, 216; defeatsan attempt
  to alter Toleration Act, 217;
   alarm for Mrs. Wilberforce,
  222; engaged in  attempts
   to remedy the  distress of
   the lower classes, 228.
 18Q3. Visit to Finley in New-
   gate,  241;   engaged  in
   framing  Bible Society, 244;
   attends York meeting, 247;
   providential escape, 253.
 1804. Endeavouring to  keep
   Pitt and Addington in amity,
   257 ; carries his  Abolition
   motion   through  the Com-
   mons, 260.
 1806.  Brought to  town  by
   Pitt's  illness,  271;   em-
   ployed in pvomoting a  sub-
   scription to pay Pitt's debts,
   272.
 1807.  Engaged  in carrying
   Abolition Bill through  both
   Houses,  283 ; opposes grant
   for Maynooth Collegers;
   Abolition  Bill passed, and
   congratulations,  286;   his
  feeling  on  success,  286;
  sets  off for  York,  288;
  speech  at Hull,  290; ex-
  traordinary  canvass,  291;
  immense subscription, 294;
  is  returned  for  the  sixth
  time, 294.
1808. Opposes Maynooth Col-
  lege grant,  300; supports
  Roman  Catholie Emancipa-
  tion, 300; active on Smith-
  field  market  Committee,
  300.
1809. Attends  Bible  Society
  anniversary, 306 ; retires to
  parsonage   near   Newport
  Pagnell, 307.
1810.   Opposes motion   for
  sending Sir Francis Burdett
  to the  tower,  313; serious
  accident, 314.
1811.   Correspondence  with
   Mr. Roberts, 328 ;  decision
   to retire from the represen-
   tation of Yorkshire, 336.
 1812.  Efforts  to prevent war
   with America, 341; promote
   Christianity in India, 341;
   his exertions for the welfare
   of religious societies, 343 ;
   supports  provision for Mr.
   Perceval's family, 345;  an-
   nounces  his determination
   to retire  from  Yorkshire,
   350;   is returned for  the
   borough of Bramber, 353.
 1813.  Supports  motion  for
   Roman Catholic Emancipa-
   tion, 360; efforts for Chris-
   tianizing India, 362; East
   India measure carried, 368.
 1814. Exertions for relief and
   instruction of Lascars  in
   England, 375; and procur-
   ing  aid for  German  suf-
   ferers, 376 ; engaged on let-
   ter to  the Emperor Alexan-
   der, 383;  censures treaty 
544
INDEX.
  with  France, 385;  inter-
  view with Emperor Alexan-
  der, 385.
1815. Death of Henry Thorn-
  ton  and  John  Bowdler,
  393;  supports  Corn  Law
  Bill, and his house endan-
  gered  by the rioters, 397;
  death of Mrs. Henry Thorn-
  ton, 403.
1817. Correspondence with his
  children, 413; busy on Hay-
  tian correspondence, 425.
1818. Visit to the Lakes, 433.
1819. Supports Quakers'  pe-
  tition on severity of Penal
  Code, 441;  supports Mack-
  intosh  on  Capital Punish-
  ments, 443; attends  nume-
  rous annual public meetings,
  443;  correspondence with
  his children, 444; opposes
  motion on Owen of Lanark's
  plan, 450.
1820.  Sick-bed  visits,  451;
  engaged in proceedings re-
  lating  to  the  conduct  of
  Queen Caroline, 453.
1821. Supports motion for re-
  storing Queen's name to the
  Liturgy, 457; contemplates
  retirement from public life,
  459; his secret thoughts on
  recovery, 466;  death of his
  eldest daughter, 461;  takes
 * retrospect of past life, 462.
1822. Takes retrospect of his
  college life, 467.
1823.  Intrusts the cause  of
  Slavery  Emancipation   to
  Mr. Fowell Buxton, 472.
1824. His  declining  health,
  480; his last speech in par-
  liament, 481.
1825. Projects Bill for lessen-
  ing the number  of oaths,
  483;  retires  from parlia-
  ment, 485; purchases High-
  wood Hill, 489.
1826. Settles at  Highwood,
  491.
1827. Mode of passing his time
  at Highwood, 496.
1828. Engaged in preparations
  for erecting  his chapel on
  Highwood  Hill, 505.
1831.  Leaves his house  at
  Highwood, 510.
1832. Retirement to his  sons"
  parsonages in Kent and the
  Isle of Wight, 512;  mode
  of passing his day, 514 ; his
  feelings at this time on the
  Slave  Trade, and on the
  principle  of  compensation,
  518.
1833. Last visit to Bath, 519;
  last  illness—his  calmness
  of mind—his conversations,
  520.

            Y.
Yorkshire meeting, 30.
York  petition in favour of the
  Treason and Sedition Bills,
  154.
Yorkshire, first election  for, 30.
          second  do.     165.
          third   do.     235.
          great contest, 288. 
 


'  ■;,.i|:-.'if-«-^' i