Postponement of the Exploring Expedition projected at the beginning
of 1860. My Son's Letter to his Sister on going into Society. Mr.
Birnie's Opinion of him, and Extract from his Lecture. Letter from
William to his Mother on Religious Views and Definitions of Faith.
His last Communications to his family at Home, before the Departure
of the Expedition.
I OMIT my son's letters of January and February, 1860, as they
contain nothing on scientific matters, or on the subject of
Australia, although interesting in other respects. They mark the
habitual tone of his feelings and principles, his constant habit of
self-examination, his study of his fellow-men, and how strongly he
was impressed with the truth of Pope's grand conclusion, that
"Virtue alone is happiness below."
"You will be glad to learn," he says, writing to his mother on the
17th of March, "that the Exploring Expedition is postponed for six
months, for want of a suitable leader, as none of the candidates
who offered their services were thought qualified in a scientific
point of view. [Footnote: Oddly enough, Mr. Burke, who was
afterwards chosen, with many requisites of a high order, was
deficient in this, which, indeed, he never for a moment pretended
to possess.] You need not work yourself up to such a state of
excitement at the bare idea of my going, but should rather rejoice
that the opportunity presents itself. The actual danger is nothing,
and the positive advantages very great. Besides, my dear mother,
what avails your faith if you terrify yourself about such trifles?
Were we born, think you, to be locked up in comfortable rooms, and
never to incur the hazard of a mishap? If things were at the worst,
I trust I could meet death with as much resignation as others, even
if it came to-night. I am often disgusted at hearing young people I
know, declare that they are afraid of doing this or that, because
they MIGHT be killed. Were I in some of their shoes I should be
glad to hail the chance of departing this life fairly in the
execution of an honourable duty."
The following selections from his numerous letters at this time are
little more than extracts, and form but a small portion of the
whole. All speak his admiration of a great and beneficent Creator,
derived from the study of his works. He had a great distaste for
sectarianism, and for a too slavish devotion to forms and
conventionalities, whether in religious or social practice, fearing
lest these extremes might savour of untruthfulness or hypocrisy.
Magnetic Observatory, Melbourne, April 18th, 1860.
MY DEAR BESSY,
The mail was to have closed to-morrow, but the Emeu has met with an
accident which will delay it for another week, so that I hope to
treat you to a long letter. I was much disappointed at receiving
nothing from you this month. It would be a first-rate plan to do
what a friend of mine was recommending to me only this evening,
namely to commence an epistle at the beginning of each month, and
add a little daily, adopting as your motto the Latin proverb,
"Nulla dies sine linea," which means, No day without a line. You
might at least favour me with a few monthly. It would be as much
for your own benefit as for my pleasure. Pray don't send a poor
excuse again about waiting for an answer to a former letter.
I must now return to the subject of my last. I hope you have
carefully considered the remarks contained therein; and I wish to
draw your attention to other matters not so immediately connected
with religion, but which may seriously affect your prosperity and
happiness in this world. I fear that mamma is too much inclined to
discourage your going into society. If so, with all due deference
to my dear mother's experience and judgment, she has adopted a
mistaken view. You will perhaps say, you do not care for society.
So much the worse; that proves the evil of seclusion. I had the
same ideas once, and greatly to my disadvantage in a general sense,
although in one point they may have been beneficial, by making me
devote more time to my studies. But I am doubtful even about that.
At any rate, girls are differently situated. Having no need of deep
scientific knowledge, their education is confined more to the
ordinary things of the world, the study of the fine arts, and of
the manners and dispositions of people. It is often asserted that
women are much sharper than men in estimating character. Whether
that be the case or not, is more than I can say, but I think it
ought to be, because women have better opportunities and more
leisure than we have for noticing little peculiarities and the
natural expression of the features. Now, my advice would be, to go
as much as you can into quiet, good society, and moderately into
gay; not to make it the business of life, as some do, who care for
little beyond frivolous amusements, and that merely for the sake of
killing time. But go to these places, even if you do not like them,
as a duty you owe to yourself and others, even as you used to go to
school, when you would rather have remained at home.
You should cultivate, as much as possible, the acquaintance of
ladies from other parts of the country, especially of those who
have travelled much. This is the best way of rubbing off
provincialisms, etc. Perhaps you think you have none; nevertheless
I shall be prepared for some whenever I have the felicity of seeing
you. You cannot think how disagreeable the sound of the Devonshire
drawl is to me now, and all people of the county that I meet have
it more or less. You will, no doubt, wonder how I have become so
changed, and what has induced me to adopt social views so different
from those I formerly held. The fact is, that since I have been
here, I have been thrown into every variety of companionship, from
the highest to the lowest, from the educated gentleman and scholar
to the uncultivated boor. The first effect was, a disposition to
admire the freedom and bluntness of the uncivilized; but more
personal experience showed me the dark as well as the bright side,
and brought out in their due prominence the advantages of the
conventionalities of good society. While in the bush, this
conviction only impressed itself partially, but a return to town
extended and confirmed it. When we are in daily contact and
intercourse with an immense number of persons, some of whom we
like, while we dislike or feel indifferent about many others, we
find a difficulty in avoiding one man's acquaintance without
offending him, or of keeping another at a distance without an
insult. It is not easy to treat your superiors with respect void of
sycophancy, or to be friendly with those you prefer, and at the
same time to steer clear of undue familiarity, adapting yourself to
circumstances and persons, and, in fact, doing always the right
thing at the proper time and in the best possible manner. I used to
be rather proud of saying that it was necessary for strangers to
know me for some time before they liked me. I am almost ashamed now
not to have had sense enough to see that this arose from sheer
awkwardness and stupidity on my part; from the absence of address,
and a careless disregard of the rules of society, which necessarily
induce a want of self-confidence, a bashful reserve, annoying to
sensible people and certainly not compensated for by the possession
of substantial acquirements, hidden, but not developed, and
unavailable when wanted. I find now that I can get into the good
graces of any one with whom I associate better in half an hour than
I could have done in a week two years ago. I know no one who puts
these matters in a better light than Lord Chesterfield in his
Letters to his Son, which you most probably have read.
Since I wrote to you last, I have received some light on the
subject of FAITH, which I was not at that time aware of. In a
discussion with a gentleman on religious matters, some remarks were
made upon faith and charity, which led to an analysis of the
original Greek word used to express the former by St. Paul, which
has been translated "faith," and is generally accepted in the
ordinary sense we attach to that word in English; namely, an
implicit trust in what you are told, without question or doubt. But
this friend of mine, who is a splendid Greek scholar, called my
attention to the fact that the Greek word, for which we have no
exact equivalent, means an openness to conviction, or a willingness
to receive after proper proof; not a determination to believe
without investigation. He also pointed out to me what I was less
prepared to hear, that the charity spoken of does not mean, as I
supposed it to express, conscientiousness, but love and
good fellowship, in action and speech; in fact, more in accordance
with the sense in which the word is commonly understood. This will
show you the evil of coming to conclusions on insufficient data.
Depend upon it, you must always hear both sides of a story before
you can get at the truth.
I am going out to dinner this evening expressly to meet two of the
finest girls in Melbourne. Some of my cautious friends say that I
am running a great risk, and that I shall never recover from the
effects. I cannot say that I feel much frightened. If anything
serious should happen, and the consequences are not immediately
fatal, I shall add a few lines to-morrow. Look sharp about
photographs. I begin to suspect you are ashamed to show your faces
in this remote region. Give my love to H., C., etc., and accept the
same from
Your ever affectionate brother,
WILLIAM J. WILLS.
P.S. 19th.--The elements interposed to save me from the danger I
wilfully determined not to avoid. It rained so heavily last evening
that the syrens stayed at home.
. . .
In the month of May 1860, I went to Melbourne for a few days,
and spent many pleasant hours with my son. I found him contented and
happy. His appointment to the Exploring Expedition, so long the
yearning desire of his heart, he appeared to consider as a fait
accompli. He was in comfortable lodgings, and had established an
intimacy with a gentleman of superior literary acquirements,
personally acquainted with many London celebrities of our day. I
remember the delight with which he came to my hotel and said: "You
must dine with me to-day; I want to introduce you to a person you
will much like. His greatest fault is one you possess yourself, a
turn for satire, which sometimes makes him enemies." On the same
morning he had announced to his friend with beaming eyes, "My
father is here;" and when the next day that same friend wished to
engage him to an evening party, he replied: "You forget that I have
a wild young father to take care of." Alluding again to this, in a
letter to his mother, on the 17th of May, he says: "You must excuse
a brief epistle this time. The Doctor has been in town for a few
days lately, and of course seduced me into all sorts of wild
habits. He is looking well, in good condition, but not so fat as he
was two years ago." At that time I had been living very frequently
on little more than one hard egg per day. Milk and coffee in the
morning, and half a pound of meat twice a week. In another letter
to his mother, shortly after the above date, he says: "I have not
heard from my father for the last fortnight. I am in very good
lodgings, at a boarding-house, not working hard, and have time to
cultivate some agreeable society. The landlady is all that can be
desired and more than could be expected--the company far above the
average. There is Mr. B., a barrister and Cambridge man, first
rate; and a nice old lady, Mrs. F., very intelligent and
good-natured. We three are great friends. Taking it altogether, the
house is so comfortable, that I did not go to the theatre once last
month." The mutual good opinion may be estimated by the following
introduction from the gentleman alluded to above, to the Colonial
Secretary at Perth, in the event of his explorations leading my son
to Western Australia:
"I pray your hospitality for Mr. W. J. Wills, for whom I have a
very high esteem and friendship. He makes me happy beyond flattery
by permitting me to think that I add something to his life. You
cannot fail to like him. He is a thorough Englishman, self-relying
and self-contained; a well-bred gentleman without a jot of
effeminacy. Plucky as a mastiff, high-blooded as a racer,
enterprising but reflective, cool, keen, and as composed as daring.
Few men talk less; few by manner and conduct suggest more. One
fault you will pardon, a tendency to overrate the writer of this
letter."
This gentleman, Mr. Birnie, is a son of the late Sir Richard
Birnie, so long an eminent police magistrate in London. At the
close of a lecture which he gave at Ballaarat on the 24th of May,
1862, subsequent to the disastrous intelligence of my son's death,
he introduced the following remarks, as reported in a colonial
paper:--
If amusement and gravity might be held compatible, they would
bear with him in pronouncing the name of William John Wills.
(Cheers.) The lecturer, when first in Melbourne, lived at a
boarding-house, and there he met Wills. Their friendship soon grew
and strengthened, in spite of the difference of their ages. Of the
man as a public explorer, everybody knew as well as he did.
Professor Neumayer said that Wills's passion for astronomy was
astonishing, and that his nights were consumed in the study. Yet
his days also were spent in enlarging his literary attainments. But
with all this labour, Wills never disregarded the commoner duties
and virtues of life. Even at the breakfast-table he was as neat and
clean as a woman. At the ball, of which he was as fond as a child,
he was scrupulously temperate, and in speech pure as a lady. Wills
read Sharon Turner, Hazlitt, Pope, Wordsworth, Tennyson, and
commented on all. Of Tennyson's In Memoriam he said it was
wonderful for its frequent bordering on faults without ever
reaching them. He was a student of literature as well as of
astronomy and science. Much intercourse they had had, and when the
lecturer heard of his death he felt glad that nothing existed for
recrimination or self condemnation. Wills was a great admirer of
Shakespeare, and his remarks on that author were original and
striking. This tribute the lecturer would lay upon his friend's
bust, and humble though the offering was he felt it would be
accepted. The lecturer with much feeling concluded a peroration of
eloquent eulogy upon his deceased friend, amid the loud and
prolonged applause of the audience, who had cheered him at frequent
intervals throughout the whole of his discourse.
Mr. McDowall moved a vote of thanks to the lecturer, seconded by
Mr. Dimant, both gentlemen highly complimenting Mr. Birnie for his
kindness in giving his services on the occasion.
The vote was carried by acclamation, and Mr. Birnie, in
acknowledging it, implored the audience not to let the movement die
away. The proposed monument could not be too good for the fame of
the heroic explorers, and particularly as commemorating the
patient, pious, unselfish manliness of Wills to the latest moment
of his life. (Cheers.)
The proceedings then closed.
. . .
In his ordinary letters to me, and in his journals of
the Expedition, which he knew were likely to become public
documents, my son seldom or never touched upon the all-important
subject of religion. This has given rise to an opinion broadly
hinted in Australia by some, and of course believed by more, that
he was either a sceptic or a downright infidel. Nothing could be
further from the truth. His mother's love had instructed him early
and zealously in the doctrines of Christianity, and prepared his
mind for a conviction of their divine truth when he reached an age
which would enable him to exercise his own judgment. As I have
already mentioned, even in childhood he had an inquiring mind and a
disposition to take nothing for granted without investigation.
Hence the questions which sometimes surprised and puzzled his
instructress. The tendency grew with his growth, and displayed
itself in his mode of dealing with every branch of knowledge
comprised in his education. If a new fact in science or an
improvement in a mathematical or surgical instrument came under his
observation, he closely examined their bearing and use before he
adopted them or subscribed to their truth or utility. Those who
question before they believe are not unfrequently pronounced
unbelievers because they question; an inverted mode of reasoning
equally uncharitable and illogical. My son had an undisguised
dislike to any ostentatious display of religious sentiment and
phraseology, particularly on the part of those who were not
teachers by calling. He sometimes suspected more cant than
sincerity in the practice, and thought these matters better suited
for inward communication between man and his Maker than for public
exhibition on common occasions. With my wife's permission I insert
the following letter, now for the first time placed in my hands:--
Flagstaff Observatory, Melbourne, June 17th, 1860.
MY DEAR MOTHER,
The mail arrived here only two or three days ago, being nearly
a fortnight behind time. I have received your letter of the 13th of
April, and one from Bessy. Your endeavours to show that my remarks
on religion were wrong, have tended to convince me more clearly
that I was right, and that you, partially at least, misunderstood
what I said. I did not charge you with being openly uncharitable or
of plainly condemning any one; nor do I blame you for believing you
are right. We all think we are right, or we should not believe as
we do. But I do blame those who pronounce everybody wrong but
themselves; for as far as we can judge, one may be as near the
truth as another. How often we hear VERY religious people,
compassionately remarking upon a neighbour's death: "Ah, poor dear
fellow, he was such a good sort of man! I hope and trust he died in
the faith!" meaning, of course, their own peculiar tenets, and
obliquely implying that, in spite of all his estimable qualities,
they have great doubts of his salvation. For my part, I consider
this as bad as the outspoken uncharitableness of bigots and
persecutors in the olden days. The inference may be true, but it is
not we who have a right to think, much less to utter it.
But I must now come to the more precise point on which we
differ--the meaning of a single expression, which I think I have
named in a former letter. I allude to the word FAITH, which, as I
was always taught to interpret it, appeared to my apprehension
analogous to CREDULITY, or a blind belief without question;--an
explanation which went against my conscience and conviction
whenever it occurred to me from time to time. As I grew older I
felt it to be wrong, although I was not sufficiently informed to
explain it differently. What perplexed me was that St. Paul should
advocate such a servile submission of the intellectual faculties
which God has bestowed upon man; such an apparent degradation of
the human mind to the level of the lower creation as to call upon
us to lay aside our peculiar attributes of reason, common sense,
and reflection, and to receive without inquiry any doctrine that
may be offered to us. On this principle, we should be as likely to
believe in the impostor as in the true saint, and having yielded up
our birthright of judgment, become incapable of distinguishing
between them. I have thought much on the subject with the
assistance of better authorities and scholars than myself, and will
now endeavour to explain what I consider St. Paul meant by FAITH,
or rather by the Greek word Piotis, which has been so translated.
After you have read my explanation, and carefully examined your own
mind, will it be too much to expect an admission that of the three
great elements of Christianity, faith, hope, and charity, you have
hitherto had more of hope than of the other two? The Greek word
used by St. Paul signifies something more than faith, or implicit
belief, as many render it. It means a self-reliant confidence
arising from conviction after investigation and study--the faith
that Paley advocates when he says, "He that never doubted never
half believed." It implies, in the first place, an unprejudiced
mind, an openness to conviction, and a readiness to receive
instruction; and then a desire to judge for ourselves. This must be
followed by a patient investigation of evidence pro and con, an
impartial summing up, and a conclusion fairly and confidently
deduced. If we are thus convinced, then we have acquired faith--a
real, unshakeable faith, for we have carefully examined the title
deeds and know that they are sound. You will surely see that faith
in this sense, and credulity, a belief without inquiry, are the
very reverse of each other, and how much superior is the former to
the latter. Credulity is a mere feather, liable to be blown about
with every veering wind of doctrine. Faith, as St. Paul means it,
is as firm as a castle on a rock, where the foundations have been
carefully examined and tested, before the building was proceeded
with.
In collateral evidence of what I have just said, I may instance the
often-repeated injunction to accept things as little children;
which cannot mean with the ignorance and helpless submission of
infancy, but with minds free from bigotry, bias, or prejudice, like
those of little children, and with an inclination, like them, to
receive instruction. At what period of life do any of us learn so
rapidly and eagerly as in childhood? We acquire new ideas every
time we open our eyes; we are ever attracted by something we have
not observed before; every moment adds to our knowledge. If you
give a child something to eat it has not been accustomed to, does
it swallow it at once without examination? Does it not rather look
at, smell, feel, and then taste it? And if disagreeable, will it
eat merely because the new food was given to it for that purpose?
On the contrary, it is more inclined to reject the gift until
influenced by your eating some yourself, or by other modes of
persuasion. Let us then, in like manner, examine all that is
offered to our belief, and test it by the faculties with which the
great God has endowed us. These rare senses and powers of reasoning
were given to be used freely, but not audaciously, to discover, not
to pervert the truth. Why were so many things presented as through
a veil, unless to stimulate our efforts to clear away the veil, and
penetrate to the light? I think it is plain that St. Paul, while he
calls upon us to believe, never intended that we should be
passively credulous. [Footnote: My son might have further enforced
his view by a passage from St. Paul, 1 Thessalonians, chapter 5
verse 21, had it occurred to him: "Prove all things; hold fast that
which is good." By this the apostle implies, according to
Archbishop Secker's commentary, all things which may be right or
wrong according to conscience. And by "proving them" he means, not
that we should try them by experience, which would be an absurd and
pernicious direction, but that we should examine them by our
faculty of judgment, which is a wise and useful exhortation.]
Credulity was one of the most prominent engines of the Romish
Church, but there was a trace of sense in their application of it.
They taught that the ignorant and uneducated should have faith in
the doctrines introduced to them by their betters, and those who
had found time to investigate the matter; but some, in the present
day, support the monstrous delusion that enlightened and
well-trained intellects, the most glorious of all the earthly gifts
of God, should bow to canting and illiterate fanaticism. . .
Adieu for the present, my dear mother, and believe me ever
your affectionate, and I hope unbigoted son,
W.J. WILLS.
. . .
This letter was the last but two he ever addressed to his mother,
and I have not transcribed the whole. It is long and discursive,
considering how much he had on his hands at that time, and how
completely he was occupied with the pending expedition. In his next
he refers to some apprehensions expressed by maternal solicitude
that his religious convictions might be altered by a friend who
entertained extremely different views. "I intended, my dear
mother," he says, "to have replied at length to one of the remarks
in your last, but I fear I must be very brief. Your idea that I am
influenced by--'s notions of religion is amusingly erroneous. I
never imagined that I could have written anything to warrant such
an impression; but it shows how careful we should be to make clear
statements so as to avoid being misunderstood. Mr.--'s religion is
to my mind supremely ridiculous; I can only find two points in its
favour, namely, its charity and moral principles. But these,
although admirable in themselves, do not go far towards proving the
truth of the theological notions entertained by its adherents. I
can assure you that such ideas of religion are quite as far removed
from mine as yours can be." His final letter announces the
certainty of his being about to start on the enterprise so long
projected. He had hitherto withheld the fact, from a wish not to
distress his mother unnecessarily while there was a chance that any
unforeseen obstacle might create further delay.
Flagstaff Observatory, Melbourne, July 25th, 1860.
MY DEAR MOTHER,
I am glad to be able to inform you of a matter that you perhaps
will not much like, although I do not know why you should object to
it. It is that we expect to start on this exploration trip in a few
weeks. You will find some particulars on the subject in the Argus
that I have sent to Charles. I fancy we shall not be away so long
as was at first intended; probably not more than twelve or eighteen
months. I anticipate being able to send you a letter sometimes, as
well as to receive yours to me, as they propose keeping up a
communication with Cooper's Creek. Professor Neumayer will probably
accompany us as far as the Darling River, taking an opportunity, at
the same time, to prosecute the magnetic survey. This will make
matters very pleasant, as well as being of great advantage to me in
many respects. We shall be travelling through the country in the
most favourable and pleasant season, when there is plenty of water,
and everything fresh and green. It will take us about two months to
get to Cooper's Creek. I do not give up my position in the
Observatory, having obtained leave of absence for the time during
which we may be engaged in the exploration. I am sorry I cannot
give you more particulars respecting our projected tour, but you
will hear enough about it by-and-by. I received a letter from my
father a day or two since, in which he speaks of coming down before
I start. I do not expect to have time to go to Ballaarat before we
leave. I sent you by the last mail one or two small photographs of
myself, and a locket for Bessy, which she asked me for some time
ago. I hope they arrived safely. There was also a photograph of my
father on paper. I have to thank some one, name unknown, for the
Totnes papers that I received by the last mail. They appear to be
well edited, and are decidedly a credit to the town. I had heard of
the paper before, but did not expect to find it so good as it is. I
suppose you have had a favourable view of the comet that has made
its appearance lately. It was visible here for about a week: at
first it was of a good size, but being so low down in the west, at
sunset it could only be seen for a short time, and then it was
comparatively dim, owing to the twilight. Since then it has rapidly
disappeared, moving in an east-south-easterly direction. With you
it was probably very fine. With kind love, etc., etc.,
Believe me, my dear mother,
Your affectionate son,
WILLIAM J. WILLS.