Chapter I: Family History (3)

We looked, however, at the world from a certain distance, and, as it were, through a veil. My father had little taste for general society. It had once been intimated to him, as he told me, that he might find admission to the meetings of Holland House, where, as Macaulay tells us, you might have the privilege of seeing Mackintosh verify a reference to Thomas Aquinas, and hearing Talleyrand describe his ride over the field of Austerlitz. My father took a different view. He declined to take advantage of this opening into the upper world, because, as he said, I don't know from what experience, the conversation turned chiefly upon petty personal gossip. The feasts of the great were not to his taste. He was ascetic by temperament. He was, he said, one of the few people to whom it was the same thing to eat a dinner and to perform an act of self-denial. In fact, for many years he never ate a dinner, contenting himself with a biscuit and a glass of sherry as lunch, and an egg at tea, and thereby, as the doctors said, injuring his health. He once smoked a cigar, and found it so delicious that he never smoked again. He indulged in snuff until one day it occurred to him that snuff was superfluous; when the box was solemnly emptied out of the window and never refilled. Long sittings after dinner were an abomination to him, and he spoke with horror of his father's belief in the virtues of port wine. His systematic abstemiousness diminished any temptation to social pleasures of the ordinary kind. His real delight was in quieter meetings with his own family--with Stephens, and Diceys, and Garratts, and above all, I think, with Henry and John Venn. At their houses, or in the country walks where he could unfold his views to young men, whose company he always enjoyed, he could pour out his mind in unceasing discourse, and be sure of a congenial audience.

Our household must thus be regarded as stamped with the true evangelical characteristics--and yet with a difference. The line between saints and sinners or the Church and the world was not so deeply drawn as in some cases. We felt, in a vague way, that we were, somehow, not quite as other people, and yet I do not think that we could be called Pharisees. My father felt it a point of honour to adhere to the ways of his youth. Like Jonadab, the son of Rechab, as my brother observes, he would drink no wine for the sake of his father's commandments (which, indeed, is scarcely a felicitous application after what I have just said). He wore the uniform of the old army, though he had ceased to bear unquestioning allegiance. We never went to plays or balls; but neither were we taught to regard such recreations as proofs of the corruption of man. My father most carefully told us that there was nothing intrinsically wrong in such things, though he felt strongly about certain abuses of them. At most, in his favourite phrase, they were 'not convenient.' We no more condemned people who frequented them than we blamed people in Hindostan for riding elephants. A theatre was as remote from us as an elephant. And therefore we grew up without acquiring or condemning such tastes. They had neither the charm of early association nor the attraction of forbidden fruit. To outsiders the household must have been pervaded by an air of gravity, if not of austerity. But we did not feel it, for it became the law of our natures, not a law imposed by external sanctions. We certainly had a full allowance of sermons and Church services; but we never, I think, felt them to be forced upon us. They were a part, and not an unwelcome part, of the order of nature. In another respect we differed from some families of the same creed. My father's fine taste and his sensitive nature made him tremblingly alive to one risk. He shrank from giving us any inducement to lay bare our own religious emotions. To him and to our mother the needless revelation of the deeper feelings seemed to be a kind of spiritual indelicacy. To encourage children to use the conventional phrases could only stimulate to unreality or actual hypocrisy. He recognised, indeed, the duty of impressing upon us his own convictions, but he spoke only when speaking was a duty. He read prayers daily in his family, and used to expound a few verses of the Bible with characteristic unction. In earlier days I find him accusing himself of a tendency to address 'homiletical epistles' to his nearest connections; but he scrupulously kept such addresses for some adequate occasion in his children's lives. We were, indeed, fully aware, from a very early age, of his feelings, and could not but be continuously conscious that we were under the eye of a father governed by the loftiest and purest motives, and devoting himself without stint to what he regarded as his duty. He was a living 'categorical imperative.' 'Did you ever know your father do a thing because it was pleasant?' was a question put to my brother, when he was a small boy, by his mother. She has apparently recorded it for the sake of the childish answer: 'Yes, once--when he married you.' But we were always conscious of the force of the tacit appeal.

I must not give the impression that he showed himself a stern parent. I remember that when his first grandchild was born, I was struck by the fact that he was the most skilful person in the family at playing with the baby. Once, when some friends upon whom he was calling happened to be just going out, he said, 'Leave me the baby and I shall be quite happy.' Several little fragments of letters with doggerel rhymes and anecdotes suited for children recall his playfulness with infants, and as we grew up, although we learnt to regard him with a certain awe, he conversed with us most freely, and discoursed upon politics, history, and literature, and his personal recollections, as if we had been his equals, though, of course, with a width of knowledge altogether beyond our own. The risk of giving pain to a 'skinless' man was all that could cause any reserve between us; but a downright outspoken boy like my brother soon acquired and enjoyed a position on the most affectionate terms of familiarity. We knew that he loved us; that his character was not only pure but chivalrous; and that intellectually he was a most capable guide into the most delightful pastures.

I will conclude by a word or two upon his physical characteristics. No tolerable likeness has been preserved. My father was rather above middle height, and became stout in later years. Though not handsome, his appearance had a marked dignity. A very lofty brow was surmounted by masses of soft fine hair, reddish in youth, which became almost white before he died. The eyes, often concealed by the nervous trick I have mentioned, were rather deeply set and of the purest blue. They could flash into visibility and sparkle with indignation or softer emotion. The nose was the nose of a scholar, rather massive though well cut, and running to a sharp point. He had the long flexible lips of an orator, while the mouth, compressed as if cut with a knife, indicated a nervous reserve. The skull was very large, and the whole face, as I remember him, was massive, though in youth he must have been comparatively slender.

His health was interrupted by some severe illnesses, and he suffered much at times from headache. His power of work, however, shows that he was generally in good health; he never had occasion for a dentist. He was a very early riser, scrupulously neat in dress, and even fanatical in the matter of cleanliness. He had beautiful but curiously incompetent hands. He was awkward even at tying his shoes; and though he liked shaving himself because, he said, that it was the only thing he could do with his hands, and he shaved every vestige of beard, he very often inflicted gashes. His handwriting, however, was of the very best. He occasionally rode and could, I believe, swim and row. But he enjoyed no physical exercise except walking, a love of which was hereditary. I do not suppose that he ever had a gun or a fishing-rod in his hand.

And now, having outlined such a portrait as I can of our home, I begin my brother's life.[48]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: I learn by the courtesy of Mr. James Young Stephen that this James Stephen was son of a previous James Stephen of Ardenbraught, whose brother Thomas was provost of Dundee and died in 1728. James Stephen of Ardenbraught had a younger son John, who was great-grandfather of the present Mr. Oscar Leslie Stephen. Mr. O. L. Stephen is father of Mr. James Young Stephen, Mr. Oscar Leslie Stephen, junior, and Sir Alexander Condie Stephen, K.C.M.G.]

[Footnote 2: My friend, Professor Bonney, kindly refers me to Conybeare and Philips' _Outlines of Geology of England and Wales_, p. 13, where there is an account of certain beds of lignite, or imperfect coal, in the neighbourhood of Poole. They burn with an odour of bitumen, and, no doubt, misled my great-grandfather. Geology was not even outlined in those days.]

[Footnote 3: 'Parleyings with Certain People'--_Works_ (1889) xvi. 148-160.]

[Footnote 4: See _Dictionary of National Biography_.]

[Footnote 5: Redgrave's _Dictionary of Painters_.]

[Footnote 6: I have copies of two pamphlets in which these proceedings are described:--One is entitled 'Considerations on Imprisonment for Debt, fully proving that the confining of the bodies of debtors is contrary to Common Law, Magna Charta, Statute Law, Justice, Humanity, and Policy; and that the practice is more cruel and oppressive than is used in the most arbitrary kingdoms in Europe, with an account of various applications, &c.; by James Stephen, 1770.' The other pamphlet, to which is prefixed a letter by W. Jackson, reprints some of Stephen's letters from the New Jail, wants a title and is imperfect. See also the _Annual Register_ for 1770 (Chronicle), November 19, for 1771 (Chronicle), January 31.]

[Footnote 7: That mentioned in the previous note. See also the 'Chronicle' of the _Annual Register_ for November 19, 1770, and January 31 and November 2, 1771.]

[Footnote 8: The children were William and James (already mentioned); Sibella, born about 1765, afterwards married to William Maxwell Morison, editor of _Decisions of Court of Session_ (1801-1818); Hannah, born about 1767, afterwards married to William Farish (1759-1837), Jacksonian professor at Cambridge; Elizabeth, born about 1769, afterwards married to her cousin, William Milner, of Comberton, near Cambridge; and John, born about 1771.]

[Footnote 9: The parish register records his burial on September 9, 1779.]

[Footnote 10: See the trial reported by Gurney in 21 _State Trials_, pp. 486-651. It lasted from 8 A.M. on Monday till 5.15 A.M. on Tuesday morning.]

[Footnote 11: See _Slavery Delineated_ (preface to vol. i.), where other revolting details are given.]

[Footnote 12: _Slavery Delineated_, i. 54, 55.]

[Footnote 13: Sir George Stephen's _Life of J. Stephen_, p. 29.]

[Footnote 14: Reprinted in 13 _Hansard's Debates_, App. xxv.-cxxii.]

[Footnote 15: _Hansard's Debates_, June 20, 1814; and _Abbot's Diary_, ii. 503.]

[Footnote 16: It is now occupied by my friend Dr. Robert Liveing.]

[Footnote 17: For the life of my grandfather, I have relied upon his autobiography and upon the following among other works: _Life of the late James Stephen_ by his son, Sir George Stephen, Victoria, 1875 (this little book, written when the author's memory was failing, is full of singular mistakes, a fact which I mention that I may not be supposed to have overlooked the statements in question but which it is needless to prove in detail); _Jottings from Memory_ (two interesting little pamphlets privately printed by Sir Alfred Stephen in 1889 and 1891); and Wilberforce's _Life and Letters_ (containing letters and incidental references). In Colquhoun's _Wilberforce, his Friends and his Times_ (1886), pp. 180-198, is an account of Stephen's relations to Wilberforce, chiefly founded upon this. See also Roberts' _Hannah More_ (several letters); Brougham's _Speeches_ (1838), i. pp. 402-414 (an interesting account partly quoted in Sir J. Stephen's _Clapham Sect_, in _Essays in Ecclesiastical Biography_); Henry Adam's _History of the United States_ (1891), iii. pp. 50-52 and elsewhere; Walpole's _Life of Perceval_.]

[Footnote 18: He served also in 1842 upon a Commission of Inquiry into the forgery of Exchequer bills.]

[Footnote 19: Serjeant Stephen's wife and a daughter died before him. He left two surviving children: Sarah, a lady of remarkable ability, author of a popular religious story called _Anna; or, the Daughter at Home_, and a chief founder of the 'Metropolitan Association for Befriending Young Servants,' who died unmarried, aged 79, on January 5, 1895; and James, who edited some of his father's books, was judge of the County Court at Lincoln, and died in November 1894. A short notice of the serjeant is in the _Law Times_ of December 24, 1894.]

[Footnote 20: _Life of James Stephen_, p. 36.]

[Footnote 21: By his wife, a Miss Ravenscroft, he had seven children, who all emigrated with him. The eldest, James Wilberforce Stephen, was fourth wrangler in 1844 and Fellow of St. John's College, and afterwards a judge in the colony of Victoria.]

[Footnote 22: His _Constitution of a Christian Church_ (1846) was republished, in 1874, as _Churches the Many and the One_, with additional notes by his son, the Rev. Samuel Garratt, now rector of St. Margaret's, Ipswich, and canon of Norwich.]

[Footnote 23: _Lectures_, vol. i. preface.]

[Footnote 24: Preface to _Slavery Delineated_, i. pp. lix.-lxx. My grandfather takes some trouble to show--and, as I think, shows conclusively--that the appointment mentioned in the text was not a job, and that it involved a considerable saving of public money. But this matter will interest no one at present.]

[Footnote 25: I have to thank Mr. Bryce, now President of the Board of Trade, for kindly procuring me the dates of my father's official appointments.]

[Footnote 26: Communicated by my friend Mr. J. Dykes Campbell.]

[Footnote 27: My cousin, Dr. John Venn, informs me that the first traceable Venn was a farmer in Broad Hembury, Devonshire, whose son, William Venn, was vicar of Otterton from 1599 to 1621.]

[Footnote 28: _Henry Venn's Life_, published by his grandson, Henry Venn, in 1834, has gone through several editions.]

[Footnote 29: A short life of John Venn is prefixed to his _Sermons_. He married Catherine King on October 22, 1789, and left seven children:--

1. Catherine Eling, born Dec. 2, 1791, died unmarried,
April 22, 1827.
2. Jane Catherine, Lady Stephen, b. May 16, 1793,
d. February 27, 1875.
3. Emelia, b. April 20, 1795, d. Feb. 1881.
4. Henry, b. February 10, 1796, d. January 13, 1873.
5. Caroline, Mrs. Ellis Batten, b. 1799, d. Jan. 26, 1870.
6. Maria, who died in infancy.
7. John, b. April 17, 1801, d. May 12, 1890.]

[Footnote 30: _Missionary Secretariat of Henry Venn, B.D._, by the Rev. William Knight, with introductory chapter by his sons the Rev. John Venn and the Rev. Henry Venn, 1880.]

[Footnote 31: Sir H. Taylor's _Autobiography_ (1885), ii. 303. Taylor was b. October 18, 1800, and d. October 31, 1886.]

[Footnote 32: _Autobiography_, i. 136.]

[Footnote 33: P. 233.]

[Footnote 34: Autobiographical fragment.]

[Footnote 35: _Taylor_, ii. 301.]

[Footnote 36: Stephen's _History of the Criminal Law_, iii. 256. My brother was generally accurate in such statements, though I cannot quite resist the impression that he may at this time have been under some confusion as to the time employed upon this occasion and the time devoted to the Bill of 1833 to be mentioned directly.]

[Footnote 37: _Taylor_, i. 121-127. Sir Henry Taylor says that Stanley prepared a measure with Sir James Graham which was introduced into the House of Commons and 'forthwith was blown into the air.' I can find no trace of this in Hansard or elsewhere, and as Stanley only became Colonial Secretary (March 28) six weeks before introducing the measure which passed, and no parliamentary discussion intervened, I fancy that there must be some error. The facts as stated above seem to be at any rate sufficiently proved by Taylor's contemporary letter. According to Taylor, Stanley's great speech (May 14, 1833) upon introducing the Government measure was founded upon my father's judicious cramming, and the success of the measure was due to Stephen's putting his own design into enactments and Mr. Stanley's into a preamble. Taylor at the time thought that my father had been ill treated, but I have not the knowledge necessary to form any opinion. My brother's _Life_ is the authority for the circumstances under which the measure was prepared, and rests on sufficient evidence.]

[Footnote 38: _Taylor_, i. 233.]

[Footnote 39: _Ibid._ ii. 303.]

[Footnote 40: I think it right to notice that in the first edition of T. Mozley's _Reminiscences_ (1882), i. 111, there appeared an anecdote of my father in his official capacity which was preposterous on the face of it. It was completely demolished in a letter written by my brother which appeared in the _Times_ of July 6, 1882, and withdrawn in a later edition.]

[Footnote 41: _Reminiscences_, ii. 224.]

[Footnote 42: _Taylor_, i. 235.]

[Footnote 43: _Taylor_, ii. 304.]

[Footnote 44: _Reminiscences_, ii. 223.]

[Footnote 45: _Taylor_, ii. 302.]

[Footnote 46: Some of my father's letters are given in Macvey Napier's correspondence. I think that they are the best in a collection which includes letters from many of the most eminent men of the time. A few others are in the collection of Sir H. Taylor's correspondence, edited by Professor Dowden in 1888.]

[Footnote 47: The title, of course, was given by Sydney Smith.]

[Footnote 48: My father's children were:--

1. Herbert Venn, b. September 30, 1822, d. October 22, 1846.

2. Frances Wilberforce, b. September 8, 1824, d. July 22, 1825.

3. James Fitzjames, b. March 3, 1829, d. March 11, 1894.

4. Leslie, born November 28, 1832.

5. Caroline Emelia, born December 8, 1834.]