sion of which we speak, is specially remarkable in the case of the missionaries Knibb and Burchell, to whom only one reference is made, and that respects simply their evidence before the committees of the two Houses (p. 295). We are surprised at this, and are at a loss to explain it. The marvellous effects of their appeals, and especially those of Mr. Knibb, are so notorious; their wondrous energy, the sanctified passion with which they literally stormed the hearts of their countrymen, are so universally known, and brought such vast accessions to the anti-slavery phalanx, that this passing over of their labors puzzles us. The general tone of Mr. Buxton's volume is too honorable to permit the supposition of an unworthy motive, and we must, therefore, leave the matter in absolute ignorance of the cause of so strange a fact.* Can it be, that the biographer's sphere of observation is so limited, his anti-slavery world so contracted, as to preclude his acquaintance with facts so material to his case? We can scarcely admit the supposition, and yet this appears the most charitable explanation which can be given.

The immediate coadjutors of Mr. Buxton were endlessly divided in their views. Even those on whom he most relied, were, with few exceptions, unprepared to carry out the convictions of the great body of his supporters. On the 25th of March, 1832, twenty of his leading anti-slavery friends dined with him, for the purpose of consulting on the course to be pursued, and the following is the account he gives of their views.

'This select band of our special friends and faithful supporters, differed upon every practical point; and opinions wavered all the way, from the instant abolition of slavery without any compensation, to its gradual extinction, through the agency, and with the cordial concurrence of, the planters.'-p. 279.

The government of Earl Grey were little disposed to trouble themselves with the slavery question. Their attention was engrossed with the Reform Bill, and they would gladly, if public feeling had permitted it, have continued a medium policy. They admitted the evil of slavery, and the obligation of effecting its ultimate extinction, but clung to their old notion of gradually mitigating its evils, before doing it away.' In this they acted in the low spirit of their generation, but happily the day of their power was gone. A greater than Cæsar had arisen, and before its mandate they were compelled to give way. Mr. Buxton needed all the support which public opinion could give him. It

To those who are unacquainted-if such there are with the antislavery labors of Mr. Knibb, we strongly recommend the immediate perusal of Mr. Hinton's' Memoir of William Knibb,' reviewed in our journal for April, 1847.

was a critical conjuncture in his own history and in the abolition struggle, and, had he wavered, the result would have been disastrous. But he did not waver, and we hold him in lasting honor for it. The 24th of May was probably the most trying and painful day of his life. He had endeavored to carry the government with him, and failing to do so, he resolved to move for the appointment of a committee. Nearly all his friends besought him not to persevere. Dr. Lushington was of opinion that it would endanger the cause,' and Lords Althorp and Howick 'used every argument and almost every entreaty.' 'Is the man mad?' inquired Lord Brougham; does he mean to act without means? He must give way.' Happily Mr. Buxton, spurned this dictation. His rule of duty was far higher and more stringent than that which the chancellor admitted, and he was therefore deaf to the entreaties of friends, though the struggle cost him dear. The following extract, somewhat too extended for our limits, is so deeply interesting, and so intimately connected with the elucidation of his character, that we cannot forego its insertion. It is taken from a letter of

his eldest daughter:

Thursday morning, May 24th, came. My father and I went out on horseback directly after breakfast, and a memorable ride we had. He began by saying that he had stood so far, but that divide he could not. He said I could not conceive the pain of it, that almost numberless ties and interests were concerned, that his friends would be driven to vote against him, and thus their seats would be endangered. But then his mind turned to the sufferings of the missionaries and of the slaves, and he said after all he must weigh the real amount of suffering, and not think only of that which came under his sight; and that if he were in the West Indies, he should feel that the advocate in England ought to go straight on, and despise those considerations. In short, by degrees, his mind was made up. When we got near the House every minute we met somebody or other, who just hastily rode up to us.

'Come on

to-night?' 'Yes.'-' Positively?' 'Positively; and with a blank countenance, the inquirer turned his horse's head, and rode away. I do not know how many times this occurred. In St. James's Park we met Mr. Spring Rice, whom he told, to my great satisfaction, that he positively would divide. Next Sir Augustus Dalrymple came up to us, and, after the usual queries, said, Well, I tell you frankly I mean to make an attack upon you to-night.' On what point?' You said some time ago, that the planters were opposed to religious instruction.' 'I did, and will maintain it.' We came home, and dined at three. It is difficult to recall, and perhaps impossible to convey to you the interest and excitement of the moment. Catherine Hoare, and I, and the little boys, went down with him. We were in the ventilator by 4 o'clock; our places were therefore good. For a long time we missed my father, and found afterwards, he had been sent for by Lord Althorp for a further discussion, in which, however, he did not yield. Many Anti-slavery

petitions were presented; the great West Indian petition by Lord Chandos. At length, about 6, Mr. Fowell Buxton' was called: he presented two petitions, one from the Archbishop of Tuam, and his clergy, and the other from the Delegates of the Dissenters in and near London. The order of the day was then called, and he moved his resolution, which was for a Committee to consider and report upon the best means of abolishing the state of slavery throughout the British dominions, with a due regard to the safety of all parties concerned.' He spoke very well indeed, and they listened to him far better than last year; in short, the subject obviously carried much greater weight with it, and the effect of the speech last year on population was manifest, as indeed it has been ever since. * * * Lord Althorp proposed the amendment of adding 'conformably to the resolutions of 1823.' Then came the trial: they (privately) besought my father to give way, and not to press them to a division. They hated,' they said, 'dividing against him, when their hearts were all for him; it was merely a nominal difference, why should he split hairs? he was sure to be beaten, where was the use of bringing them all into difficulty, and making them vote against him?' He told us that he thought he had a hundred applications of this kind, in the course of the evening; in short, nearly every friend he had in the House came to him, and by all considerations of reason and friendship, besought him to give way. Mr. Evans was almost the only person who took the other side. I watched my father with indescribable anxiety, seeing the members, one after the other, come and sit down by him, and judging but too well from their gestures, what their errand was. One of them went to him four times, and at last sent up a note to him with these words, 'immovable as ever?' To my uncle Hoare, who was under the gallery, they went repeatedly, but with no success, for he would only send him a message to persevere. My uncle described to me one gentleman, not a member, who was near him, under the gallery, as having been in a high agitation all the evening, exclaiming, 'Oh, he won't stand! Oh, he'll yield! I'd give a hundred pounds, I'd give a thousand pounds, to have him divide ! Noble! noble! What a noble fellow he is!' according to the various changes in the aspect of things. Among others, Mr. H— came across to try his eloquence; Now don't be so obstinate; just put in this one word, interest;'.it makes no real difference, and then all will be easy. You will only alienate the Government. Now,' said he, I'll just tell Lord Althorp you have consented.' My father replied, 'I don't think I exaggerate when I say, I would rather your head were cut off, and mine too; I am sure I had rather your's were!' What a trial it was. He said afterwards, that he could compare it to nothing but a continual tooth drawing, the whole evening. At length he rose to reply, and very touchingly alluded to the effort he had to make, but said, he was bound in conscience to do it, and that he would divide the House. Accordingly the question was put. The Speaker said, 'I think the noes have it.' Never shall I forget the tone in which his solitary voice replied, No, sir.' 'The noes must go forth,' said the Speaker,

* * *

and all the House appeared to troop out. Those within were counted, and amounted to ninety. This was a minority far beyond our expecta

tions, and from fifty upwards, my heart beat higher at every number. I went round to the other side of the ventilator to see them coming in. How my heart fell, as they reached 88, 89, 90, 91, and the string still not at end; and it went on to 136. So Lord Althorp's amendment was carried. At 2 o'clock in the morning it was over, and for the first time my father came up to us in the ventilator. I soon saw that it was almost too sore a subject to touch upon; he was so wounded at having vexed all his friends. Mr. would not speak to him after it was over, so angry was he; and for days after when my father came home, he used to mention, with real pain, somebody or other who would not return his bow. On Friday, Dr. Lushington came here and cheered him, saying, 'Well, that minority was a great victory;' and this does seem to be the case; but we hardly know how to forgive some of those who ought to have swelled its numbers.'-pp. 289-— 292.

Mr. Buxton was not long in reaping the reward of his decision. His motion was lost, but his cause triumphed. The influence of the ministry secured, for the day, a majority against him, but they knew full well that their advantage could not be maintained. The feeling out of doors was too intense to be trifled with, and its religious character,-whatever sneering and half-infidel politicians may allege to the contrary,- commanded attention, though it could not win their hearts. 'I saw T. B. Macaulay, yesterday,' writes Mr. Buxton, on the 27th of September.' He said, 'You know, how entirely everybody disapproved of your course in your motion, and thought you very wrong, very hard-hearted, and very headstrong; but two or three days after the debate, Lord Althorp said to me, that division of Buxton's has settled the slavery question. If he can get ninety to vote with him when he is wrong, and when most of those really interested in the subject vote against him, he can command a majority when he is right. The question is settled; the government see it, and they will take it up.' The same decision marked his subsequent procedure. The government, however, still wavered, and at the eleventh hour attempted to play him false, till at length his inflexibility wrung from Lord Althorp the discreditable declaration, 'Well, if you will not yield, we must.' What followed is known. Little honor is due to the Whigs. They acted under compulsion and not willingly, though now they seek to plume themselves in the honors of emancipation.

Turning from this grave theme, our readers will be interested with the sketch given of a dinner party, at the brewery in Spitalfields, at which some of the most distinguished political characters of the day were present. Lord Grey and the Spanish General Alava were of the party, 'the former, the dignified, stiff, sedate, British nobleman of the old school; the latter, the

entertaining, entertained, and voluble foreigner.' The Lord Chancellor Brougham, says Mr. J. J. Gurney, 'was in high glee; he came in a shabby black coat, and very old hat; strangely different from the starred, gartered, and cocked-hat dignity of the venerable premier :'—

Something,' says Mr. Gurney, led us (Lord Brougham and myself) to talk about Paley, and I mentioned the story of his having on his death-bed, condemned his 'Moral Philosophy,' and declared his preference of the 'Hora Paulinæ,' above all his other works. This led Brougham to speak of both those works. Did you ever hear that King George III. was requested by Mr. Pitt to make Paley a bishop? The King refused; and taking down the Moral Philosophy' from the shelf, he showed Pitt the passage in which he justifies subscription to articles not fully credited, on the ground of expediency. This,' said the King, is my reason for not making him a bishop.' Lord Grey overheard the Chancellor's story and confirmed it; but,' added the Chancellor, I believe the true reason why George III. refused to make Paley a bishop was, that he had compared the divine right of kings to the divine right of constables!' * * The Chancellor was very cordial, and we were all delighted with his entertaining rapidity of thought, ready wit, and evident good feeling. Nor was it possible to be otherwise than pleased with all our guests, with whom we parted, about eleven o'clock at night, after a flowing, exhilarating, and not altogether uninstructive day.'-p. 266.

* *

Mr. Buxton mentions some further particulars, which are too illustrative of character to be omitted. After naming the parties present, in all, twenty-three, he says:

'I first led them to the steam-engine; Brougham ascended the steps and commenced a lecture upon steam-power, and told many entertaining anecdotes; and when we left the engine, he went on lecturing as to the other parts of the machinery, so that Joseph Gurney said he understood brewing better than any person on the premises. I had Mr. Gow up with his accounts, to explain how much our horses each cost per annum; and Brougham entered into long calculations upon this subject. To describe the variety of his conversation is impossible—

"" 'From grave to gay, from lively to severe.'

'At dinner I gave but two toasts, 'The King,' and 'The memory of George III.,' whose birthday it was. We had no speeches, but conversation flowed, or rather roared like a torrent, at our end of the table. The Chancellor lost not a moment; he was always eating, drinking, talking, or laughing; his powers of laughing seemed on a level with his other capacities.

Talking of grace before dinner he said, 'I like the Dutch grace best, they sit perfectly still and quiet for a minute or two. I thought it very solemn.'

He enquired the wages of the draymen. I told him about 45s.