Born at Burton in Cheshire, studied at Trinity College, Dublin, and, chaplain to the Earl of Derby, became Bishop of Sodor and Man in 1697. For fifty-eight years he governed his diocese with constant care. His “Principles of Christianity” (1707), commonly called the Manx Catechism—the first book printed in Manx—and his “Instruction for the Indians,” written for Oglethorp’s Georgia plantation scheme, were combined to form “The Knowledge of Christianity made easy to the Meanest Capacities” (1755). His name best survives in his “Short Instructions for the Lord’s Supper” (1736) and “Sacra Privata” (1800). Other books are “Parochialia, or Instructions for the Clergy” (1788), and “Maxims of Piety” (1789). He instituted a Manx translation of the Bible (1772–75). The best edition of his works is that by Keble (1847–52), with a Life (reprinted 1863).

Personal

  The people of the island were so thoroughly persuaded of his receiving a larger portion of God’s blessing, that they seldom began harvest till he did; and if he passed along the field, they would leave their work to ask his blessing, assured that that day would be prosperous. Nor was this opinion confined to the obscure corner of the world where he lived. In Warrington, even in London, there are those who can remember crowds of persons flocking round him, with the cry of “Bless me too, my Lord.”

  His charity was unbounded. It influenced his sentiments, it formed his character, it regulated his life … he was utterly free from bigotry … he possessed a truly Catholic spirit. With the few Dissenters who resided in his diocese he maintained a friendly intercourse. Such of them as were pious in their lives he treated with marks of particular kindness. In this respect he resembled Archbishop Usher, who lived in habits of intimacy with the learned Nonconformist, Mr. Baxter. “Si in necessariis sit unitas, in non necessariis libertas; in utrisque caritas, optimocerte loco essent res nostrae.” Bishop Wilson was so great a friend of toleration that the Roman Catholics that resided on the island were not unfrequently at his sermons and prayers, and the Dissenters in the diocese, who were without a minister of their own persuasion, attended even the Communion service, having obtained permission from the Bishop to stand or sit, as their consciences directed.

  As far as man can judge of man, few persons ever went out of this world more thoroughly prepared for the change than Bishop Wilson, not only in heart and conscience, but in comparatively trifling arrangements. He had even provided his coffin long before hand.

  No name in the long history of the English episcopate is more honourable than that of Thomas Wilson. For no less than fifty-nine years, from 1696 to 1755, he administered the see of Sodor and Man in a way which excited, as it well might the amazement and admiration of all churchmen to whom his fame was known. Nor was his repute confined to England. Cardinal Fleury, shortly before his death in 1743, sent a special messenger to him. He had heard, he said, about him, and he felt the more interest in the account because they were the oldest, and he believed also the two poorest bishops in Europe. He hoped that it might be possible he would accept an invitation from him, and pay him a visit in France. Fleury likewise procured an order that no French privateer—for the war of the Austrian succession was then at his height—should ravage the Isle of Man. Queen Anne and George I. both offered him bishoprics, and Queen Caroline was specially anxious to keep him in England. “Nay,” said the bishop, “I will not leave my wife in my old age, because she is poor.” In his own diocese he was honoured with a reverence which sometimes almost bordered upon superstition.

General

  Bishop Wilson’s “Maxims” deserve to be circulated as a religious book, not only by comparison with the cartloads of rubbish circulated at present under this designation, but for their own sake, and even by comparison with the other works of the same author. Over the far better known “Sacra Privata” they have this advantage, that they were prepared by him for his own private use, while the “Sacra Privata” were prepared by him for the use of the public. The “Maxims” were never meant to be printed, and have on that account,—like a work of, doubtless, far deeper emotion and power, the “Meditations” of Marcus Aurelius, something peculiarly sincere and first-hand about them. Some of the best things from the “Maxims” have passed into the “Sacra Privata;” still, in the “Maxims,” we have them as they first arose; and whereas, too, in the “Sacra Privata” the writer speaks very often as one of the clergy, and as addressing the clergy, in the “Maxims” he almost always speaks solely as a man. I am not saying a word against the “Sacra Privata,” for which I have the highest respect; only the “Maxims” seem to me a better and a more edifying book still.

  Wilson, the “Apostolic,” was a man of the old sacerdotal type, full of simplicity, tenderness, devotion, and with a sincere belief, inoffensive because alloyed by no tincture of pride or ambition, in the sacred privileges of the Church. Amongst his scattered reflections there are many of much beauty in expression as in sentiment. They imply a theology of that type of which à-Kempis is the permanent representative; less ascetic, inasmuch as Wilson had the good fortune to be a married man instead of a monk; and, of course, less vivid, as he was one born out of due time. His superstitions—for he is superstitious—no more provoke anger than the simple fancies of a child; and we honour him as we should honour all men whose life and thoughts were in perfect harmony, and guided by noble motives. To read him is to love him; he helps us recognise the fact that many of the thoughts which supported his noble nature in its journey through life may be applicable in a different costume to the sorrows and trials which also change their form rather than their character; but we see with equal clearness that he has little or nothing to say upon the speculative difficulties of the time. He may be passed over with the remark that his example proves conclusively that a genuine Christian theologian in the most characteristic sense of the term might still be found under the reign of George II. in the Isle of Man.