Daniel Wilson (1776-1858) - An introduction to his life

Some years ago I sent for books and booklets from the Lord's Day Observance Society. Among them was a little book advocating the observance of the Lord's Day by a man I'd not heard of. His name? Bishop Daniel Wilson. Being a good nonconformist the word 'bishop' gave pause but I was well enough acquainted with things to know that did not necessarily mean the man was completely suspect! Anyway, I read the little book and found it a help.

I have more recently learned that it grew out of sermons preached in 1827 and was originally published in 1830. It "engendered deep concern on the part of the clergy and men of good standing" and led to Wilson and his cousin Joseph Wilson forming the LDOS the following year. It is still in existence and is just one example of Daniel Wilson's energy and how it still has its effects today.

Wilson's name has hardly arisen since then but more recently I came across him again with the reissue of Sir Marcus Loane's The Oxford Cambridge Evangelical Succession. This looks in turn at the great evangelist George Whitefield (1714-1770), preacher and hymn writer John Newton (1725-1807), the commentator Thomas Scott (1747-1821), the preacher Richard Cecil (1748-1810) and finally Daniel Wilson (1778-1858). Loane relies chiefly on the two volume biography of Wilson by his nephew and son-in-law Josiah Bateman that appeared in 1860. Bateman in turn makes use of a journal that Wilson kept from the very end of 1797, shortly after his conversion, until 1807 and then after a 23 year gap, from 1830 until the end of his life. There were also hundreds of letters. Bateman and Loane note how carefully Wilson's friends kept these. 'That surely goes to prove' says Loane 'that there was always a tone of greatness in the man.'

Early life

As Loane says 'Wilson belonged to the fourth generation of the evangelical revival' and as we look at his long life we will note his links with the more familiar names just mentioned. The George Whitefield connection comes through his mother Ann Collett (d 1829). She was the daughter of Daniel West, one of George Whitefield's friends and trustees. She, with her husband, Stephen Wilson (d 1813), a wealthy London silk manufacturer, were hearers of William Romaine, Cecil, Scott and other Evangelicals and were the earliest spiritual influences on Wilson, their eldest son, from his birth in Spitalfields, London, on July 2, 1778.

A delicate child, he soon grew stronger and came to have a buoyant personality and good looks. He began school in Eltham, Kent, when he was 7 and from the age of 10 until he was 13 was under the care of Rev John Eyre at Hackney. Eyre had served as curate to Richard Cecil in 1780.

After finishing school in 1792, he began a seven year apprenticeship in Cheapside, London, under his uncle, William Wilson of Worton, near Woodstock. Though the hours for it were few he continued to study hard at Latin and French and other subjects.

Conversion

Spiritually, however, by this time he was not in a good state spiritually. He was irreverend in church, did not pray, scarcely read the Bible and enjoyed posing as sceptic. His line was that as God was sovereign there was nothing a mere mortal could do to alter his fate.

Then on evening of March 9, 1796 things began to change. He was warmly advocating his cynical vie of God's sovereignty to some friends when he was challenged. Surely the God who chooses the ends also ordains the means it was suggested. When Wilson objected that he did not have the necessary feelings, it was countered that he should pray for them. He tried to laugh it off but the shaft had struck home and a period of protracted conviction followed. He wrote first to his old tutor John Eyre who was a help to him. On April 20 he had an interview with John Newton. Here is Wilson's report of the interview at the time (writing to Eyre).

I this morning breakfasted with Mr. Newton. I hope the conversation I had with him will not soon be effaced from my mind. He inculcated that salutary lesson you mentioned in your letter, of 'waiting patiently upon the Lord'. He told me God could, no doubt, if He pleased, produce a full-grown oak in an instant, on the most barren spot; but that such was not the ordinary working of His Providence. The acorn was first sown in the ground, and there was a secret operation going on for some time; and even when the sprout appeared above ground, if you were continually to be watching it, you would not perceive its growth. And so, he said, it was in spiritual things.
"'When a building is to be erected for eternity, the foundation must be laid deep. If I were going to build a horse-shed, I could put together a few poles, and finish it presently. But if I were to raise a pile like St Paul's, I should lay a strong foundation, and an immense deal of labour must be spent underground, before the walls would begin to peep above its surface.
"'Now,' he continued, 'you want to know whether you are in the right road; that is putting the cart before the horse; that is wanting to gather the fruit before you sow the seed. You want to experience the effects of belief before you do believe'. 'You can believe a man if he promises you anything, but you cannot believe Christ when He says, "Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." If you are cast out, it must be in some wise, but Christ says, 'in no wise.' If he had said, I will receive all who come except one hundred, then you might certainly think you were of that hundred: but the "In no wise" excludes all such arguing. There are few awakened sinners who doubt Christ's ability to save, but the fear seems to run on His willingness, which, of the two, is certainly the most dishonouring to our blessed Saviour. To illustrate my meaning: Suppose you had promised to pay one hundred pounds for me and had given me the promise in writing. Now, if you should refuse to pay the money when I sent for it, which do you think would involve the greatest impeachment to your character, to say that you were perfectly willing to fulfil your commitment, but really had not the power; or to say that no doubt could be entertained of your ability, but you were unwilling to be bound by your promise
"'Unbelief is a great sin. If the devil were to tempt you to some open, notorious crime, you would be startled at it; but when he tempts you to disbelieve the promises of God, you hug it as your infirmity, whereas you should consider it as a great sin, and must pray against it.
"When Evangelist, in the "Pilgrim's Progress" asked Christian if he saw a wicket-gate at the end of the path, he said No. Could he then see a shining light? He thought he could. That light was the Bible, and it led him to the wicket-gate. But when he had passed that gate, he still retained the burden. It was not till he looked to the Cross that the burden fell from his back and was felt no more. Now,' said Mr Newton, 'the gate through which you have to pass is a strait gate; you can but just squeeze in yourself. There is no room for self-righteousness; that must be left behind.'"

It was probably some time in October 1797 that he eventually came through. As Loane remark there was 'something quite out of the common in the depth of his penitential sorrow and his self-abasement, as well as in the long lapse of 18 months before he found pardon and peace. But there was a purpose in it all, for his was a life marked out for God.'

Preparation for the ministry

From very early on he felt drawn to the ministry but there was some reluctance on his father's part to allow it, the apprenticeship still being incomplete. When he consulted with the well-known preacher Rowland Hill patience was urged. After a year's wait an interview was arranged with Richard Cecil, who felt sure of the genuineness of the call. Arrangements were made for Wilson first to study under the evangelical minister Josiah Pratt for six months and then to enter St Edmund Hall, Oxford in November, 1798.

Oxford at this time was in a low state both academically and spiritually. Charles Simeon's work was just beginning in Cambridge but at Oxford St Edmund's was the one ray of despised evangelical light. Six students had famously been expelled from there in 1768 for Methodism but it became a real evangelical centre for years to come. At this point it was better known for its piety than its learning. By means of fellowship with men from several colleges it was a time of spiritual growth for Wilson. He studied hard and even became a byword for it. It is said that he translated Cicero's Epistles into English and then translated them back in again to perfect his Latin style.

He gained a first-class degree, graduating BA in March 1802 and MA in 1804. In 1803 he won the chancellor's English prose essay prize for his essay on ‘Common sense’.

Early years of ministry

He went on to be ordained in September 1801, taking up a curacy in Chobham and Bisley in Surrey. This was under the well-known Anglican evangelical Richard Cecil, though Cecil was only present in the summer months and so Wilson had plenty of opportunity to preach and to get to know the parish, which he did with great willingness. At the end of the time he writes

They have first seen me as a preacher: they have cherished, comforted, and loved me. All things there have worked for good. Church, rector, and people have alike smiled on me. Nor has the Spirit of God left me without fruit. I know that some have, by the grace of God, and through my instrumentality, been awakened and born from above. I speak, of course, only as a man, for God only can see the heart.

In November 1803, he married his cousin Ann, daughter of William Wilson. She was to be his partner in life for the next 24 years. They had six children, three of whom reached adulthood. The sudden death of Ann in 1818 when she was just seven years old was a hard blow as were the other two deaths. His son John grew to manhood but proved to be a source of great grief to him because of his spiritual rebellion. He did eventually come to salvation before an early death in 1833 but not without much heart searching on his father's part.

Back at St Edmund's

In January, 1804, he returned to St Edmund Hall as a tutor. In January, 1807, he was appointed vice-principal, combining both positions with charge of the parish of Worton, between Banbuury and Woodstock, and which was in his uncle's gift. We have emphasised Wilson's standing in the evangelical succession and as Loane suggests one might have expected 'useful service comparable to that of Charles Simeon in the sister sea of learning'. 'But' observes Loane 'Wilson was neither fitted by nature nor suited by office to do for Oxford the work which Simeon had done for Cambridge' – not being rector of a church or fellow of a college at first.

He did say before going there

I fear Oxford. I tremble to think of its Dons, and its duties, and the general tone and colouring of its maxims and opinions. I cannot forget the past. I cannot but dread to encounter new trials, new men, new pursuits, with a variety of difficulties and temptations hitherto unknown, unheard, unthought of. But to shrink, would prove me faithless. I undertake the office, not of my own will, but from a sense of duty.

Oxford was not a failure. He was asked to preach before the University in January, 1810. However, it did take its toll on him inwardly. Already in 1804 he is writing

I like my position. Everything falls out as I could wish. But I see many dangers looming in the distance. My heart is already becoming entangled in worldly studies, so that divine things lose their savour. I wish to count all things loss for Christ. I wish to love and cherish divine concerns; but pride, ambition, secular pursuits, and cares, beset me and make my path slippery and insecure. Pray for me.

Two years later he is writing

My soul is sick. I am perplexed and overborne with college and university business. I have wandered from God. You would not believe, my friend, how weak my mind is, how perturbed, not to say hardened, so that I feel no love for sacred things, nor derive any profit from them. Sin, disguising itself in the form of those literary pursuits in which I am engaged, has deceived, wounded, and almost slain me. I scarcely see Christ, and scarcely love Him. That glow and fervour which I used to feel spreading over my whole soul, is extinguished. Well do I know that I have grieved the Holy Spirit.

Then in 1807 he laid aside his journal not to take it up again for over 20 years. By 1809 he was convinced of the need for a return to pastoral ministry.

The employment of a tutor at Oxford has been far from being perfectly congenial to my mind. As to the propriety of my leaving the university, and giving myself wholly to my ministry, I cannot have a doubt. The gradual decay of vital piety in my own heart, is too obvious and too alarming a symptom, not to force itself upon my conscience. May God yet spare me for His honour!

He summed up much later

My time at Oxford was utterly without profit as to my soul. Pride grew more and more, and carnal appetites enchained me. On the other hand, Worton afforded me much spiritual consolation. These nine years were passed, I trust, in the path of duty, though amidst struggles, temptations, and frequent estrangements of soul and spirit.

St John's Chapel

Worton had been the one bright spot in this time of dearth and he had ministered faithfully there until he began, from 1808,, to assist Cecil at St John's Chapel, Bedford Row, Bloomsbury, London. In June 1812 he took full charge there, resigning his Oxford posts and moving to London. Begun as a Chapel of Ease in the reign of Queen Anne, St John's was seen as the headquarters of London's evangelical party and Wilson was an obvious choice.

There he devoted himself to 'ceaseless activity' as a powerful, forthright and popular preacher. Loane speaks of his 'commanding oratory' and of 'years of great blessing' noting how, having preached only 640 sermons in the 11 years of ministry before Bedford Row, he now preached 1187 sermons in just 15 years! His 2000 strong congregation of 'lawyers and merchants', swollen by other visitors in the season, was peppered with Wilberforces, Macaulays, Thorntons and Grants of Clapham Sect fame. Very diligent in preparation, he would take only a few notes with him into the pulpit. Loane says

He stood as God's servant to do God's work and his power was soon felt by all. He was in earnest at a time when earnest men were still comparatively hard to find; he preached a full gospel in an age when preachers of the gospel were few and far between. He was steadfast where many were given to change, and moderate when others ran to extremes. His grave and dignified bearing was a solemn rebuke to the spirit of levity or unbelief, and his impassioned address to conscience was varied with an impressive pathos of appeal.

In 1821 Wilson took the funeral of the commentator Thomas Scott. He was always a fan of Scott. He describes their last interview in 1819 thus:

I sat up with Mr. Scott last night till near 12 O'clock, talking over my correspondence with the Bishop of Chester on the doctrine of salvation. This morning he gave us a most beautiful exposition of Romans x. 12, &c. Afterwards Mr Scott went over my homily sermon with me. He alters but very little, and approves of most of my ecclesiastical notions. Mr Scott is tolerable in health, though 72 years old, and asthmatical for 45 years. He is very busy with his new edition of the Commentary on the Bible. He has now finished the whole of the first volume, and parts of the second and third. He finishes four or five sheets a week, expounds twice a day, has above a hundred communicants at his sacrament, is popular and beloved in his neighbourhood, and has fuller churches than ever. It is quite delightful to see him once more in the flesh.

Scott was someone he always delighted to honour.

There was no one in whom he placed more confidence, no one whose writings he more habitually studied. To the close of his life, Scott's Commentary on the Bible was the book of his choice. It exactly suited him. He never seemed sensible of its defects. He never felt it heavy. New authorities arose, new comments appeared : but still his word remained the same - "The old is better." He recommended it to every one whom he valued, and read it always himself. Its accordance with Scripture, its perfect honesty and integrity of purpose, its moderation in statements of doctrine, the practical and holy tendency everywhere manifest; all these won his heart and kept it.

He used Scott's commentary with his Bible daily. He never passed a copy, however old the edition, without buying it. At one point he began having it translated into French. When his two sermons on Scott were published some thought his praise too great.

“Thomas Scott was a wonderful man" he used to say, "as wonderful in his way as Milton or Burke. He overcame great difficulties, and lived down great unpopularity. Why, he was at first quite hooted in London for his long sermons.

Also in 1821 opportunity was taken to enlarge the building. Uncompromising in his readiness to fight the good fight for evangelical principles and practice, he inevitably emerged as a forceful public figure and Loane observes how he soon became 'the most prominent Evangelical in the whole of London'.

Wilson also embraced a wide range of evangelical causes, including foreign missions, anti-slavery, church building and education. On alternate Mondays his vestry was home to the well known Eclectic Society for ministers (founded in 1783). In 1816 he founded the London Clerical Education Society for helping young men prepare for the ministry. He was a member of the Church Missionary Society (CMS) committee from 1810 and in 1817 he preached their annual sermon. A frequent contributor to the Christian Observer, he also published various sermons and pamphlets. He also toured the country most summers for the CMS or for the British and Foreign Bible Society. Not one year passed from 1813-1822 in which he did not take undertake extensive tours speaking on behalf of these societies in various places. He was often accompanied by William Marsh who remarked on how the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning he would see would be Wilson on his knees in prayer.

While preparing this paper I found myself on the pleasant Channel Island of Guernsey. I was very interested to read a brief account, therefore, of Wilson's one and only visit there – on behalf of the CMS. It sounds typical of the man in many ways.

I left London on Monday, August 5th, and reached Exeter on the Friday, where our friends the Cornishes received us most hospitably. 1 preached there twice on the Sunday, and was present at the missionary meeting.
On Friday, August 14th, I embarked at Weymouth for the Channel Islands. Twenty-four hours of calm, and then of contrary winds and tempest (throughout which I felt as if I should die from sea-sickness) brought me to Guernsey. It is a delightful island – 30,000 souls, Normandy customs, beautiful scenery, soft, mild climate, delicious fruits; - the novelty of everything charmed and fascinated me. I was never more struck. In addition to all this, I was greatly touched by the kindness and friendship of Mr Brock. I preached in French, for the first time in my life. Imagine my embarrassment on mounting the pulpit, and seeing before me a vast array of a thousand listeners, understanding nothing but French. I managed to be understood. I believe the warmth of my heart opened my way, for it seemed to me that the more interested they were in the subject, the more they listened. There is one universal language which religion purifies and strengthens - the love of Christ, contrition of heart, faith in the redemption of the Cross - this attracts the soul of man, and is conveyed better by feeling than by words.

During much of 1822–4 he suffered a breakdown, probably due to overwork. He travelled with his family to the continent to recuperate but it did not solve the problem. Loane comments too that he 'found that in London no less than at Oxford, the iron would eat into his soul. A later journal entry says

My course in London was strangely intermingled with great mercies from God, and great miseries from my own evil heart. My Saviour knows all. I can neither record nor realise all the temptations, the backslidings, the corruptions of heart, which have defiled me. It is terrible to think of.

Islington

Having inherited the rights to St Mary's, Islington, London, from his uncle, in 1821, he decided on the death of the incumbent in May 1824 to take up the parish, to the initial dismay of a congregation not known for its evangelicalism. He was instituted as vicar on 4 June and by the end of that year had recovered his former energy. He returned to the tasks of church extension and school building, established the Islington Clerical Conference, formed the Islington Association for the CMS (which rapidly became one of the society's most substantial sources of funds), and continued to write. Once gain he was successful in reaching out in an area of great need.

Meeting as we are in the Evangelical Library it may be of interest to note that in 1827 he built a new and imposing library that contained some 10,00 volumes and was a great delight to him. Bateman says

His love for books was well known, and he seldom returned home from his morning drive without finding a little bazaar established at his gates. Thither the various books purchased at book-sales, so frequent in Calcutta, were brought and spread before him. He could not pass without examining the contents of the stalls; and if an old copy of "Scott" appeared, it was at once bought and given away. ...
Whilst he had any work in preparation for the press, everything having any bearing on the subject was purchased without stint, and then retained. He was careful of his books; said that he looked upon them as his children, and could not bear to see them ill-used. No turning down of the leaves was tolerated, and even a "mark" was deemed unmanly. "If you cannot tell where you leave off, you arc not worthy to read a book," he would say. He needed quiet for study, but not solitude. "Go or stay, as you please; but if you stay, be quiet;" and then he would turn, and in a moment enter the world of books. He kept no late hours; his last reading (as his first) was always devotional and scriptural; and he generally retired about eleven o'clock. In working hours, all his reading had reference to the sermon, or the controversy, or the publication which might be in hand. But in the hour of repose, after dinner, or in the country, the current literature of the day had its turn, and one member of the family generally read aloud to all the rest.

Perhaps this would be a good point to mention his literary output. Apart from various sermons and pamphlets, works for children and young people and his descriptions of his travels on the continent we can mention among his more important works his substantial foreword to a new edition of Wilberforce's A Practical View (1826). He praises Wilberforce who was still living. It is said that the latter protested that 'such things ought never to be published till a man is dead'. He also wrote prefaces in the same series for Thomas Adams' Private Thoughts, Butler's Analogy and Baxter's Reformed Pastor. Other works include Thoughts on British colonial slavery (1827) The Divine Authority and Perpetual Obligation of the Lord's Day (1831) The Evidences of Christianity (2 vols, 1828, 1830), 'a work as traditional as it was lengthy'. He later wrote On the distinction of castes in India (1834) and Expository lectures on St Paul's Epistle to the Colossians (1853).

India

By the time Wilson was 54 then he had lived a full and useful life as an Anglican churchman and a doughty supporter of the evangelical movement in England. On this basis alone he may have merited our attention. However, in 1832 he became the fifth Anglican Bishop of Calcutta (then a vast diocese reaching as far as Australia). From Calcutta, with only one break to return to England, in 1845-6, when recovering from illness, he went on to serve the Lord for another 25 years. It was during this visit home that he made a severe attack on the policies of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in India and received an unprecedented invitation to preach a second anniversary sermon to the CMS.

Wilson had always shown an interest in missionary work and in 1829 John Turner, consecrated Bishop of Calcutta in 1829, visited Islington before leaving England and there considered the needs of the diocese with Wilson. When Turner died in 1831, the third bishop to do so in five years, Wilson, while sharing the general anxiety about the succession, was not an obvious candidate. However, when several others refused the offer and Wilson, in some desperation, indicated his willingness to be considered, the influence of evangelical friends, including Lord Glenelg, secured his appointment. He therefore resigned his post at Islington, received his DD by diploma, and was consecrated at Lambeth Palace in April, 1832.

In the manner of the day his eldest son, Daniel (b 1805), who had been appointed to Worton in 1828, succeeded him at Islington, and his nephew Josiah Bateman (subsequently his son-in-law and biographer), went with him to India as his chaplain. They left Portsmouth in June 1832 and arrived in Calcutta on November 5.

Wilson's predecessors had made only limited headway in establishing the extent of episcopal authority, defining the nature of the ecclesiastical establishment and standardising liturgical practice. Bishop Wilson's years in India were to be devoted to these fundamental tasks. He re-established the physical and social presence of the bishop in Calcutta, brought order to episcopal administration and revived or set in motion many of the activities familiar to him from his London parishes - clerical meetings, lecture series, infant schools, writing for the Christian Intelligencer and church building. Between 1839 and 1847 he masterminded construction of Calcutta's cathedral.

To make his leadership felt outside Calcutta he exploited the practice of episcopal visitation to the full. In five major journeys between 1834 and 1857, each lasting between two and three years, his episcopal cavalcade, often with more than 250 soldiers, elephant attendants, bearers and camp-followers, traversed the huge diocese from Simla to Colombo and from Delhi and Bombay to Singapore.

His task was slightly eased by the erection of new dioceses for Madras (1835), Bombay (1837), New South Wales (1836) and Colombo (1845) and his own appointment as metropolitan.

With his forceful personality and struggling, in his own words, to maintain ‘firm churchmanship … in the face of high-church principles and no-church principles’, Wilson often appeared to others as the embodiment of episcopal pretension. His contempt for Tractarianism, ‘this egregious drivelling fatuity’ and his sustained attacks on it, notably in his second charge in 1838 and subsequent sermons, did not save him from perhaps the greatest irony of his career - serious conflict with the CMS and its lay supporters in India over the licensing and superintendence of missionaries. To one who had done so much for the cause of missions at home, the suspicion with which missionaries on the ground viewed his plans to make Bishop's College the great training centre for ministers in India, their frequent neglect of ecclesiastical order partly under the influence of the society's Lutheran employees and, above all in southern India, compromises with caste, came as a great disappointment.

Wilson tackled these issues with characteristic vigour and displayed sufficient flexibility to reach generally acceptable agreements with both the CMS and the civil authorities on many church–state questions. He called the Indian caste system a 'cancer' and in his famous essay, On the Distinction of Castes in India (1834), he abandoned Reginald Heber's temporising for the demand that in the church it ‘must be abandoned, decidedly, immediately, finally’. Reinforcing the requirement with personal visitations, Wilson carried the missionaries with him but lost the allegiance of many local church members.

Loane sums up this final period as proving him to be a great man and a first-class bishop, a time when he did a noble work for India.

Conclusion

A physically striking figure, Wilson impressed some with, 'his spiritual egotism and … eminently technical view of religion' and others by his ‘pure simplicity of mind and artlessness of demeanour’. The pattern of his last years in India was apparently little changed. Occasionally he demonstrated an unexpected sensitivity to Indian culture, troubling to learn Hindi and acknowledging the importance of varying biblical terminology to suit the customary usages of different ethnic groups. His wide interest in missionary work brought personal contact with figures such as William Carey, Alexander Duff, Adoniram Judson and Elijah Bridgman. The mutiny of 1857 he interpreted as a devastating judgement on Britain's record in India; it prompted his final sermon in the cathedral at Calcutta, entitled ‘Humiliation in national troubles’. There followed a few months of steady deterioration, and he died at Calcutta on 2 January 1858. After an official funeral he was buried in his cathedral.

Bateman lists some 15 characteristics of Wilson and we will close by highlighting these.

1. Energy. Even in this short survey I think this comes out. 'He wearied others: but was never weary himself'. What an example he is for us here.

2. Simplicity of his aim. 'Men said he was ambitious, and loved power. But, if so, it was only as a means to an end. The great end and object of life with him, was to save the souls of men; and to this, time, talents, influence, and property, were all devoted.' Again he is an example to us.

3. His deep piety. Despite the failures we have noted it is true to say 'religion was never laid aside, never forgotten. It was his comfort, his solace, his delight, his joy. It was entwined about his heart, and wrought into the very fabric of his nature. It constituted his strength.'

4. Spirit of prayer. He was always praying. In later life it occupied almost half his day.

5. Study of Scripture. "The more we read it," he used to say, "the more we may. It is certain that we shall never exhaust it."

6. Moral courage. In this respect the mind controlled and commanded the body. When, halting on his first visitation between Bombay and the Himalayas, he received from Bishop Corne a letter warning him of danger, and entreating him to return, — he paused, reflected, took counsel, saw no real cause for alarm, — and then calmly and courageously persevered in his journey. Who but he, or one like-minded, would have linked his little pilot-brig to a great steamer, and faced the monsoon in the China Seas, in order to carry out his purpose in reaching Borneo? Who but he would have ventured to grapple with the caste question in the way (he did)? The evil was admitted; the moral courage was exhibited in applying the remedy. Compare his handling of tractarianism with the modified and timid disapprobation it met with at the hands of others. He gave utterance to his own deep convictions, and openly denounced it as "another gospel." To stand in the gap thus fearlessly, as a rallying-point for others, demands and manifests high moral courage.

7. Untiring industry. It served him instead of originality and genius. It made him learned, powerful, useful, influential. No labour daunted him when some important work was in hand. When he had a major sermon to deliver he would work over it again and again.

In Ceylon he reached on "The Pearl of Great Price ". He was 78 when he gave it. Bateman describes him preparing with a desk full of sermons; any one might have been preached without labour to himself, and with profit to the hearers. But he is in the neighbourhood of the pearl fishery; the subject will be interesting; attention may be arrested, and good done. Hence, on the Saturday his table is covered with books, and on the Sunday every description is lively, every allusion correct. His industry never failed. When action did not so much require it, study had it. No man in India read half so much as he did; and his comments and criticisms prove how well the reading was digested. Even on the very last day of his life, he was looking at "Livingstone," and learning something about " Africa."

8. Consistency. Early in life he had grasped the primary truths of the gospel, and he held them firmly to the end. Many secondary truths were added, but they were kept secondary. He never rode a hobby in divinity. His sermons were always good to hear, his books always safe to read. In a charge delivered in 1851, he could say: "I retain the sentiments I publicly expressed in 1817." This inspired confidence ; and the idea of instability and changeableness was never attached to his character. He had no opinion of those who, in order to give the public the benefits of their own thoughts, neglected what had been previously thought and said by others. He laid aside a recent commentary, unread, because the author professed to have written it without consulting previous commentators.

9. Deep self-abasement. It ran through life, and found expression everywhere. The " bitter things " he wrote against himself would make unobservant men deem him a sinner above others. But he only had a deeper insight into his own heart, and a higher sense of the holiness of God. The extent of the sorrow is the point of difference amongst God's people, and not the extent of the sin.

Speaking once of having been in the ministry 56 years he said, "Ah, yes; but it is a long time to have to answer for. None can answer for me but ONE, and that one CHRIST JESUS. I cannot answer for myself."

10. Fidelity to Christ. He never ceased to teach and preach Jesus CHRIST; and when he quarrelled with any scheme of doctrine, it was chiefly because it took from Christ the honour due unto His name. The savour of His name was in every sermon ; the pleadings of His merits marked every prayer. To add to His dominion, to extol His grace, and to extend His church, was the very joy of his heart. Every doctrine of the gospel had its niche, but Christ was on the pedestal. Nothing was put before Him - nothing suffered to obscure His glory.

11. Missionary zeal. His willingness to go to India in his fifties speaks volumes. His perseverance there too. It all grew out of a zeal that had begun long before. Back in 1797 and just converted he had felt “great desires to go or do anything to spread the name of Jesus”. He wrote “I have even wished, if it were the Lord's will, to go as a missionary to heathen lands." The reason he stayed and died in India was not a lack of interest in his homeland – far from it – but a sense of commitment to the work.

12. Growing charity. No-one was more of a churchman than he; but he was always ready to hold out the right hand of fellowship to those that differed. His warfare was defensive. This catholicity increased with his years, till, at length, he uttered what Bateman calls 'those memorable words, significant, at all events, of his own aspirations for India': "Unity and love prevail amongst the different divisions of the Protestant family here. We no longer maintain the old and fatal mistake that Christian men are not to co-operate for anything, till they agree in everything. We now hold the antagonistic and true maxim, that Christian men should act together so far as they are agreed."

13. Unbounded liberality. None will know its extent; but very nearly all that he ever received from India was returned to India. By dint of self-denial he must have passed on thousands of pounds to the work of God in India.

14. Fearlessness in a righteous cause. He feared the face of no man in a righteous cause. When he saw anything which required a word of caution, the rank of the individual never daunted him. The fitting occasion was watched for, the friendly word spoken, or the private note sent. If the desired effect was produced, he rejoiced ; if the interference was resented, he bore it as "a cross," but it never made him angry. Public scandals, however, drew from him public condemnation; and it often made the breath come short, to hear him from the pulpit denounce an offence, and almost name the offender. On one occasion of a public scandal, after frequent public demonstrations of this kind, he invited thirty or forty influential ladies to his house, and entreated them in private to stem, by their influence, the current of immorality which was setting in.

15. Peculiarities.

He suffered them to grow, and they became marked features. It was not originality or eccentricity, so much as peculiarity and oddity - an odd way of saying and doing odd things. And yet there was something of originality in what was thus done and said - something of set purpose - something which gave point to the expression, and took firm hold upon the memory.

Speaking of a missionary who had sought and obtained a chaplaincy, he said, "Ah! he was a true missionary; perhaps there was not a better in India. But Satan and Eve have persuaded him to quit the work."

One of the chaplains in the upper provinces had preached a sermon, in his presence, strongly directed against Calvinism. The argument was elaborate, and claimed to be triumphant. The bishop said nothing at the time ; but when about to step into his palanquin, and leave the station, he shook hands kindly with the chaplain's wife, and thanked her for her courtesy, adding: " Please to tell your husband that he has not settled that question."

He would often join together a commendation and a caution. Introducing a chaplain to the governor, he mentioned him as one "who bids fair to be very valuable to us, if only God keeps him humble."

It characterised his expositions of Scripture. One of his chaplains was ordered up to the Punjab, but his wife was unwilling to go. In the course of the morning's reading, it happened that this passage occurred : " Having his children and his household in subjection with all gravity." — "Now," said the bishop, commenting upon it, "I don't call it having his household in subjection with all gravity, when one of my chaplains is ordered up to Lahore, and his wife says she won't go."
His lectures on the Epistles to Timothy or Titus, to his candidates for ordination, have been already alluded to. They were invaluable, full of force, and calculated to impress the mind most beneficially. But here, also, he sometimes forgot himself, and said more than he meant. The candidates were required to take down the lectures, and the examination of their notes formed part of the preparatory trial. On one occasion, some quick, clever candidates took down every word ; but before the papers were submitted to the bishop, they brought them to his chaplain, pointing out many 'odd remarks and strong expressions, and asking whether they should be left out. "Not a line, not a letter," said the chaplain. The papers were accordingly handed in, and the perusal of them was to the bishop like a man beholding his natural face in a glass. He could scarcely believe that the expressions were correct; but, undeceived on this point, the last morning's lecture was very much taken up in modifying the previous statements, and preventing all consequent misunderstandings. Especially - having said that "he would rather be a poor little Baptist, with God's grace in his heart, than the Archbishop of Canterbury without it" - he was anxious to explain, that though he stood to the sentiment, he would not have them picture to themselves an Archbishop of Canterbury without grace in his heart.

But still there is such a thing as being too much at home in the pulpit; and, many times, things were said by the bishop which had better have been left unsaid. But, though men might smile, they never slept. India is a sleepy place, and he effectually roused it. And it may be surmised that he intended to do so. Hence short, strong, pithy sentences, which might be fixed like goads. Hence familiar anecdotes of other times and earlier days. Hence reference to matters of local interest - to offensive paragraphs in newspapers, to unlawful, though fashionable amusements. These were the outpourings of the heart, and the impulse, often, of the moment - graphic, pungent, and sometimes ludicrous. But all these peculiarities affected not the great features of his character. There is something of affection in the smile they raise.

Bateman admits the faults in Wilson – he cannot deny them but using the word of another he ends by calling him

A BRAVE AND NOBLE SOLDIER; A WISE, BOLD LEADER. I ESTEEM IT THE GREATEST PRIVILEGE OF MY LIFE TO HAVE KNOWN HIM.

One understands such sentiments.

Paper given at the Evangelical Library