"But my feelings draw me off from the proper subject I was writing

upon--expense. And really, when I consider it merely in the view of the

misery that may be alleviated, and the tears that may be wiped away

by a very little money judiciously employed, I grow ashamed of myself

for not practising more self-denial that I may apply my savings to

such a purpose. Then think of the benefits to be rendered to mankind

by missionary societies. Besides all this, I really believe there is

commonly a special blessing on the liberal, even in this life, and on

their children; and I hesitate not to say to you that, as you will,

I hope, possess from me what, with the ordinary emoluments of a

profession, may afford you a comfortable competence, I am persuaded I

shall leave you far more likely to be happy than if you were to have

inherited from me £10,000 more (and I say the same for your brothers

also), the fruits of my bachelor savings. In truth, it would be so

if the Word of God be true, for it is full of declarations to that

effect. Now all this is general doctrine. I am aware of it. I can only

give you principles here. It must be for you to apply them, and if you

apply them with simplicity of intention, all, I doubt not, will be

well. But again I cannot help intimating my persuasion that you would

do well to confine yourself at first to the few friends you already

have and on whom you can depend. And also let me suggest that it would

be truly wise to be looking around you, and if you should see anyone

whose principles, and character, and manners are such as suggest the

hope that he might be desirable even for a friend, then to cultivate

his acquaintance. May our Heavenly Father direct and prosper you, carry

you safely through the ordeal into which you are just about to enter,

and at length receive you into that blessed world where danger will be

over, and all will be love and peace and joy for evermore.

"I am ever affectionately yours,

"W. WILBERFORCE."

"_November 5, 1823._

"I trust I scarcely need assure you that I must always wish to make you

comfortable _quoad_ money matters, and on the other hand that the less

the cost of rendering you so, the more convenient to me. My income is

much diminished within the last few years, while the expenses of my

family have greatly increased....

"What a comfort it is to know that our Heavenly Father is ever

ready to receive all who call upon Him. He delighteth in mercy,

and ever remember that as you have heard me say, mercy is kindness

to the guilty, to those who deserve punishment. What a delightful

consideration it is that our Saviour loves His people better than we

love each other, than an earthly parent loves his child."

"_November 7, 1823._

"There is a vile and base sentiment current among men of the world

that, if you want to preserve a friend you must guard against having

any pecuniary transactions with him. But it is a caution altogether

unworthy of a Christian bosom. It is bottomed in the mistakenly

supposed superior value of money to every other object, and in a very

low estimate of human friendship. I hope I do not undervalue my money,

but I prize my time at a still higher rate, and have no fear that any

money transaction can ever lessen the mutual confidence and affection

which subsists between us and which I trust will never be diminished.

And let me take this opportunity also of stating that you would give me

real pleasure by making me your friend and opening your heart to me as

much in every other particular. I trust you would never find me abusing

your confidence. Even any indiscretions or faults, if there should be

any, if I can help to prevent your being involved in difficulties by

them. But I hate to put such a case. It is no more than what is due to

my dear Samuel, to say that my anticipations are of a very different

sort. And I can truly declare that the good conduct and kindness of my

children towards me is a source of the purest and greatest pleasure I

do or can enjoy."[51]

"_August 6, 1824._

"I can bear silence no longer, and I beg you will in future send me

or your dear mother a something, be it ever so short, in the way of a

letter once a week, if it be merely a certificate of your existence.

I have been for some days thinking of writing to you, in consequence

of my having heard that your friend Ryder and Sir George Prevost were

reading classics with Mr. Keble. Could you not have been allowed to

make it a triumvirate? Much as I value classical scholarship, I prize

still more highly the superior benefit to be derived from associating

with such good young men as I trust the two gentlemen are whose names

I have mentioned, and I have the satisfaction of knowing that you have

the privilege of calling them your friends. Is it yet too late?"

"_September 10, 1824._

"As I was talking to your mother this morning on money matters it shot

across my mind that you had desired me to send you a supply, which I

had neglected to do. I am truly sorry for my inadvertency, and will

send you the half of a £20 bank note which I happen to possess, the

other half following of course to-morrow. Ask for what you want, and

we will settle when you are here. It gives me real pleasure to believe

that you are economical on principle, and it is only by being so that

one can be duly liberal. Without self-denial every man, be his fortune

what it may, will find himself unable to act as he ought in this

particular, not that _giving_ is always the best charity, far from it;

employing people is often a far preferable mode of serving them. To

you I may say that if I have been able to be liberal not less before

my marriage than after it, it was from denying myself many articles

which persons in my own rank of life and pecuniary circumstances

almost universally indulged in. Now when I find my income considerably

decreased on the one hand, and my expenses (from my four sons) greatly

increased on the other, economy must even be made parsimony, which,

justly construed, does not in my meaning at all exclude generosity."

This letter is here interrupted, he says, by "two young widows--both of

whom had recently lost their husbands in India--with their four little

children, all in deep mourning. Yet the two widows have the best of

all supports in the assured persuasion that their husbands were truly

pious, and in the hope that they themselves are so."

It is easy to imagine the reception given to the "two young widows"

by Wilberforce. He had not yet learned the lesson of "economy or even

parsimony" as regarded his charities--even when he had to reduce his

expenses he spent £3,000[52] in one year on charity.

"_December 10, 1824._

"I have deemed it quite a duty on this delicious day to prolong my

country walk in a _tête-à-tête_ with your dear mother, a _tête-à-tête_,

however, from which our dear children's images are not excluded. I

own that those who are termed Methodists by the world do give more

liberally to the distressed than others, yet that I think they do

not in this duty come up to the full demands of Scripture. The great

mistake that prevails as I conceive is, it's being thought right that

all persons who are received on the footing of gentlemen are to live

alike. And without economy there cannot be sufficient liberality. I can

sincerely declare that my wish that my sons should be economical, which

is quite consistent with being generous, nay, as I said before, is even

necessary to it, arises far more from my conviction of the effects of

economical habits on their minds and happiness in future life, than on

account of the money that will be thereby saved. You have heard me, I

doubt not, praise Paley's excellent remark on the degree in which a

right constitution of the habits tends to produce happiness, and you

may proceed with the train of ideas I have called up in your mind."

"_October 26, 1825._

"You ask me about your Uncle Stephen's having been a newspaper

reporter. He was. The case was this. At the age of, I believe,

eighteen, he came up to town to study the law, when the sudden death of

his father not only stopped his supplies, but threw on his hands the

junior branches of the family, more especially three or four sisters.

Seeing no other resource, he embraced an offer, made to him I believe

through or by Mr. Richardson, the friend of poor Sheridan. Richardson

afterwards came into Parliament, and the fact respecting Stephen came

out thus, a few years ago. A regulation was proposed by some of the

benchers of Lincoln's Inn that no one should be permitted to be called

to the Bar who ever had practised the reporting art. Sheridan brought

the question forward in the House of Commons. Stephen, who was then in

Parliament, spoke to the question, and in arguing against the illiberal

and even cruel severity of the regulation, put a supposed case, that

the son of a gentleman, by a father's sudden death was at once deprived

of the means of pursuing the legal profession on which he was just

entering, being also harassed in his mind by the distressed state of

some affectionate sisters. Thus embarrassed, he received an offer of

employment as a reporter, and gladly accepted it and discharged its

duties, thereby being enabled to prosecute his professional studies

as well as to assist his relatives. 'But,' added Stephen, 'the case

I have just stated is no imaginary one. It is the story of a living

individual. It is that, sir, of the individual who has now the honour

to address you.' There is in all bodies of Englishmen a generous

feeling which is always called forth powerfully when a man confesses,

or rather boldly avows any circumstance respecting himself which,

according to the false estimate of the world, might be supposed to

disparage him; as when Peel at the meeting for a monument to James Watt

declared that, 'owing all his prosperity to the successful industry

of a person originally in the humble walks of life,' the applause was

overpowering. And I never remember a more general or louder acclamation

than immediately broke out when Stephen had (indeed before he had

completely) closed his declaration."

"_December 16, 1825._

"It is Henry Thornton[53] that was connected with the house of Pole

& Co. He became a partner about five months ago. The storm through

which he has been passing has been indeed violent; but the call

for self-possession, temper, judgment, and above all scrupulous,

punctilious integrity has been abundantly answered. He has behaved so

as to draw on him the universal applause of all who have witnessed

his conduct. Mr. Jno. Smith especially speaks of it in the highest

terms, and has been acting towards him with corresponding generosity

and kindness. It has been very strikingly evidenced that commercial

transactions on a great scale enlarge the mind, and the obedience

which, with men of real principle, is paid to the point of mercantile

honour, produces a habit of prompt, decisive integrity in circumstances

of embarrassment and distress. I am happy to be able to tell you that

there is reason to believe that while Henry will gain great credit

he will lose no money. He has borne the trial with the calmness of a

veteran."

"_Sunday, January 22, 1826._

"You may have heard me mention, that when in my solitary bachelor state

I was alone all day on the Sunday, I used after dinner to call up

before me the images of my friends and acquaintances, and to consider

how I could benefit or gratify them. And when the mind is scarcely

awake, or, at least, active enough for any superior purpose, this is

no bad employment for a part of the day, especially if practised with

religious associations and purposes. The day is so raw here that I have

yielded to your mother's kind entreaties that I would not go to church,

where the greater part of the family now is at afternoon service. So I

am glad to spend a part of my day with my dearest Samuel.

"I will remind you of an idea which I threw out on the day preceding

your departure--that I feared I had scarcely enough endeavoured to

impress on my children the idea that they must as Christians be a

peculiar people. I am persuaded that you cannot misunderstand me to

mean that I wish you to affect singularity in indifferent matters.

The very contrary is our duty. But from that very circumstance of its

being right that we should be like the rest of the world in exterior,

manners, &c., &c., results an augmentation of the danger of our not

maintaining that diversity, nay, that contrast, which the Eye of God

ought to see in us to the worldly way of thinking and feeling on

all the various occasions of life, and in relation to its various

interests. The man of the world considers religion as having nothing to

do with 99-100ths of the affairs of life, considering it as a medicine

and not as his food, least of all as his refreshment and cordial. He

naturally takes no more of it than his health requires. How opposite

this to the apostle's admonition, 'Whatever ye do in word or deed, do

all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father

through Him.' This is being spiritually-minded, and being so is truly

declared to be life and peace. By the way, if you do not possess that

duodecimo volume, 'Owen on Spiritual Mindedness,' let me beg you to

get and read it carefully. There are some obscure and mystic passages,

but much that I think is likely to be eminently useful; and may our

Heavenly Father bless to you the perusal of it...."

"_February 27, 1826._

"Let me assure you that you give me great pleasure by telling me

unreservedly any doubts you may entertain of the propriety of my

principles or conduct. I love your considering and treating me as a

friend, and I trust you will never have reason to regret your having so

done, either in relation to your benefit or your comfort. In stating

my suspicions that I had not sufficiently endeavoured to impress on

my children, and that you were scarcely enough aware of the force of

the dictum that Christians were to be a peculiar people, I scarcely

need assure you that I think the commands, 'Provide things honest in

the sight of all men, whatever things are lovely, whatsoever of good

report,' &c. (admirably illustrated and enforced by St. Paul's account

of his own principles of becoming all things to all men), clearly prove

that so far from being needlessly singular, we never ought to be so,

but for some special and good reason. Again, I am aware of what you

suggest that, in our days, in which the number of those who profess a

stricter kind of religion than the world of _soi-disant_ Christians in

general, there is danger lest a party spirit should creep in with its

usual effects and evils. Against this, therefore, we should be on the

watch. And yet, though not enlisting ourselves in a party, we ought, as

I think you will admit, to assign considerable weight to any opinions

or practices which have been sanctioned by the authority of good men in

general. As again, you will I think admit, that in any case in which

the more advanced Christians and the less advanced are both affected,

the former and their interests deserve more of our consideration than

the latter. For instance, it is alleged in behalf of certain worldly

compliances, that by making them you will give a favourable idea,

produce a pleasing impression of your religious principles, and dispose

people the rather to adopt them. But then, if you thereby are likely

to become an _offence_ (in the Scripture sense) to weaker Christians,

(persons, with all their infirmities, eminently dear to Christ,)

you may do more harm than good, and that to the class which had the

stronger claim to your kind offices. Let my dear Samuel think over

the topic to which I was about next to proceed. I mean our Saviour's

language to the Laodicean Church expressing His abhorrence and disgust

at lukewarmness, and the danger of damping the religious affections

by such recreations as He had in mind. Of course I don't object to

domestic dances. It is not the act, the _saltus_, but the _whole tone_

of an assembly."

"CLIFTON, _May 27, 1826._

"I am very glad to think that you will be with us. Your dear mother's

spirits are not always the most buoyant, and, coming first to reside

in a large, new house without having some of her children around her,

would be very likely to infuse a secret melancholy which might sadden

the whole scene, and even produce, by permanent association, a lasting

impression of despondency. I finish this letter after hearing an

excellent sermon from Robert Hall. It was not merely an exhibition

of powerful intellect, but of fervent and feeling piety, especially

impressing on his hearers to live by the faith of the love of Christ

daily, habitually looking to Him in all His characters. Prayer,

prayer, my dear Samuel; let your religion consist much in prayer. May

you be enabled more and more to walk by faith and not by sight, to

feel habitually as well as to recognise in all your more deliberate

calculations and plans, that the things that are seen are temporal,

but the things that are not seen are eternal. Then you will live above

the world, as one who is waiting for the coming of the Lord Jesus

Christ."[54]

"_April 20, 1826._

"I would gladly fill my sheet, yet I can prescribe what may do almost

as well. Shut your door and muse until you fancy me by your side, and

then think what I should say to you, which I dare say your own mind

would supply."

"_September 30._

"I am thankful to reflect that at the very moment I am now thinking of

you and addressing you; you also are probably engaged in some religious

exercise, solitary or social (for I was much gratified by learning from

a passage in one of your letters to your mother that you and Anderson

went through the service of our beautiful liturgy together). Perhaps

you are thinking of your poor old father, and, my dear boy, I hope you

often pray for me, and I beg you will continue to do so.

"I am not sure whether or not I told you of our having been for a

week at Lea,[55] having been detained there by my being slightly

indisposed. But it was worth while to be so, if it were only to

witness, or rather to experience, Lady Anderson's exceeding kindness. I

really do not recollect having ever before known such high merits and

accomplishments--the pencil and music combined with such unpretending

humility, such true simplicity and benevolence. With these last

Sir Charles is also eminently endowed. He reads his family prayers

with great feeling, and especially with a reverence which is always

particularly pleasing to me. There is, in 'Jonathan Edwards on the

Religious Affections,' a book from which you will, I think, gain much

useful matter, a very striking passage, in which he condemns with great

severity, but not at all too great, _me judice_, that familiarity

with the Supreme King which was affected by some of the religionists

of his day, as well as by Dr. Hawker recently, and remarks very truly

that Moses and Elijah, and Abraham the friend of God (and all of them

honoured by such especial marks of the Divine condescension), always

manifested a holy awe and reverence when in the Divine presence."

Samuel Wilberforce had written to his father asking him what advice he

should give to a friend whose family was very irreligious. In the house

of this friend 'it was a common phrase accompanying a shake of each

other's hands on meeting, "May we meet together in _hell_."' The answer

to the appeal for advice is as follows:--

"_July 28, 1826._

"I will frankly confess to you that the clearness and strength of the

command of the apostle, 'Children, obey your parents in all things'

(though in one passage it is added, 'in the Lord') weighed so strongly

with me as to lead me, at first, to doubt whether or not it did not

overbalance all opposing considerations and injunctions, yet more

reflection has brought me to the conclusion, to which almost all those

whom I consulted came still more promptly, that it is the duty of

your young friend to resist his parents' injunction to go to the play

or the opera. That they are quite hotbeds of vice no one, I think,

can deny, for much more might be said against them than is contained

in my 'Practical View,' though I own the considerations there stated

appear to my understanding such as must to anyone who means to act on

Christian principles be perfectly decisive. One argument against the

young man's giving up the point in these instances, which has great

weight with me, is this, that he must either give himself entirely up

to his friends and suffer them at least to dictate to him his course

of conduct, or make a stand somewhere. Now I know not what ground he

will be likely to find so strong as this must be confessed to be, by

all who will argue the question with him on Scriptural principles, and

more especially on those I have suggested in my 'Practical View' of the

love of God, and I might have added, that of the apostle's injunction,

'Whatever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord

Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father through Him.' I scarcely

need remark that the refusal should be rendered as unobjectionable as

possible by the modest and affectionate manner of urging it, and by

endeavouring to render the whole conduct and demeanour doubly kind and

assiduous. I well remember that when first it pleased God to touch

my heart, now rather above forty years ago, it had been reported of

me that I was deranged, and various other rumours were propagated to

my disadvantage. It was under the cloud of these prejudices that I

presented myself to some old friends, and spent some time with them

(after the close of the session) at Scarborough. I conversed and

behaved in the spirit above recommended, and I was careful to embrace

any little opportunity of pleasing them (little presents often have no

small effects), and I endeavoured to impress them with a persuasion

that I was not less happy than before. The consequence was all I could

desire, and I well recollect that the late Mrs. Henry Thornton's

mother, a woman of very superior powers and of great influence in our

social circle, one day broke out to my mother--she afterwards said to

me something of the same kind, not without tears--'Well, I can only

say if _he_ is deranged I hope we all shall become so.' To your young

friend again I need not suggest the duty of constant prayer for his

nearest relatives. By degrees they will become softened, and he will

probably enjoy the delight of finding them come over to the blessed

path he is himself pursuing. He will also find that self-denial, and a

disposition to subject himself to any trouble or annoyance in order to

promote his friends' comfort, or exemption from some grievance, will

have a very powerful effect in conciliating his friends. With all the

courtesy that prevails in high life, no one, I think, can associate

with those who move in it, without seeing how great a share selfishness

has in deciding their language and conduct, saving themselves trouble

or money, &c., &c. Happily the objections of worldly parents to their

children becoming religious are considerably weakened since it has

pleased God to diffuse serious religion so much through the higher

ranks in society: they no longer despair, as they once did, of their

sons and daughters not forming any eligible matrimonial alliance or

any respectable acquaintances or friendships. The grand blessing of

acting in the way I recommend is the peace of conscience it is likely

to produce. There are, we know, occasions to which our Saviour's words

must apply, 'He that loveth father and mother more than Me is not

worthy of Me,' and I doubt not that if your friend does the violence

to his natural feelings which the case supposes, in the spirit of

faith and prayer, he will be rewarded even by a present enjoyment of

spiritual comfort. If I mistake not I wrote to you lately on the topic

of the joy which Christians ought to find familiar to them, still more

the peace; and the course he would pursue would, I believe, be very

likely to ensure the possession of them. We have been, and still are,

highly gratified by finding true religion establishing itself more and

more widely. Lord Mandeville, whose parent stock on both sides must

be confessed to be as unfavourable as could be well imagined in this

highly favoured country, is truly in earnest. He, you may have forgot,

married Lady Olivia's only daughter. He is a man of very good sense;

though having been destined to the Navy, which had been for generations

a family service, his education was probably not quite such as one

would wish. He is a man of the greatest simplicity of character, only

rather too quiet and silent."

"HIGHWOOD HILL,

"_November 27, 1826._

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