{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_15260/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_15260","id":"gutenberg_15260","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15260","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Society of Friends"],"text":"E-text prepared by Carlo Traverso, Graeme Mackreth, and the Project\nGutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team from images generously made\navailable by the Biblioth\u00e8que nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at\nhttp://gallica.bnf.fr.\n\n\n\nA PORTRAITURE OF QUAKERISM, VOLUME I\n\nTaken from a View of the Education and Discipline, Social Manners,\nCivil and Political Economy, Religious Principles and Character, of\nthe Society of Friends\n\nby\n\nTHOMAS CLARKSON, M.A.\n\n1806.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THOMAS CLARKSON, A.M.]\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nPREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS AND REMARKS\n\n\n\nMORAL EDUCATION.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n_Amusements distinguishable into useful and hurtful--the latter\nspecified and forbidden_.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nSECT. I.--_Games of chance forbidden--history of the origin of some of\nthese_.\n\nSECT. II.--_Forbidden as below the dignity of the intellect of man, and\nof his christian character_.\n\nSECT. III.--_As producing an excitement of the passions, unfavourable to\nreligious impressions--historical anecdotes of this excitement_.\n\nSECT. IV.--_As tending to produce, by the introduction of habits of\ngaming, an alteration in the moral character_.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nSECT. I.--_Music forbidden--instrumental innocent in itself, but greatly\nabused--the use of it almost inseparable from its abuse at the present\nday_.\n\nSECT. II.--_Quakers cannot learn instrumental on the usual motives of\nthe world--nor consider it as a source of moral improvement, or of\nsolid comfort to the mind--but are fearful that, if indulged in, it\nwould interfere with the Christian duty of religious retirement_.\n\nSECT III.--_Quakers cannot learn vocal, because, on account of its\narticulative powers, it is capable of becoming detrimental to\nmorals--its tendency to this, as discoverable by an analysis of\ndifferent classes of songs_.\n\nSECT IV.--_The preceding the arguments of the early Quaker--but the new\nstate of music has produced others--these explained_.\n\nSECT V.--_An objection stated to the different arguments of the Quakers\non this subject--their reply_.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nSECT I.--_The Theatre forbidden--short history of its origin--and of its\nstate and progress_.\n\nSECT II.--_Manner of the drama objected to by the Quakers--as it\npersonates the characters of others--and it professes to reform vice_.\n\nSECT III.--_Contents of the drama objected to--as they hold our false\nsentiments--and weaken the sinews of morality_.\n\nSECT IV.--_Theater considered by the Quakers to be injurious to the\nhappiness of man, as it disqualifies him for the pleasure of religion_.\n\nSECT V.--_To be injurious to the happiness of man, as it disqualifies\nhim for domestic enjoyments_.\n\nSECT VI.--_Opinions of the early Christians on this subject_.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nSECT. I.--_Dancing forbidden--light in which this subject has been\nviewed both by the ancients and the moderns--Quakers principally object\nto it, where it is connected with public assemblies--they conceive it\nproductive, in this case, of a frivolous levity, and of an excitement of\nmany of the evil passions_.\n\nSECT. II--_These arguments of the Quakers, on dancing, examined in\nthree supposed cases put to a moral philosopher_.\n\nSECT. III.--_These arguments further elucidated by a display of the\nBall-room_.\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n_Novels forbidden--considered by the Quakers as producing an affectation\nof knowledge--a romantic spirit--and a perverted morality_.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nSECT. I--_Diversions of the field forbidden--general thoughtlessness\nupon this subject--sentiments of some of our best poets--law of the\nQuakers concerning it_.\n\nSECT. II.--_Consistency of this law examined by the morality, which is\ninculcated by the Old Testament_.\n\nSECT. III.--_Examined by the morality of the New--these employments, if\nresorted to as diversions, pronounced, in both cases, to be a breach of\na moral law_.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n_Objections to the preceding system, which includes these different\nprohibitions, as a system of moral education_.\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nSECT. I.--_Reply of the Quakers to these objections_.\n\nSECT. II.--_Further reply of the Quakers on the same subject_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nDISCIPLINE.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nSECT. I.--_Outlines of the discipline of the Quakers_.\n\nSECT. II.--_Manner of the administration of this discipline_.\n\nSECT. III.--_Charges usually brought against the administration of\nit--observations in answer in these charges_.\n\nSECT. IV.--_The principles of this discipline applicable to the\ndiscipline of larger societies, or to the criminal codes of\nstates--beautiful example in Pennsylvania_.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n_Monthly court or meeting of the Quakers for the purposes of their\ndiscipline--nature and manner of the business transacted there_.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n_Quarterly court or meeting for the same purposes--nature and manner of\nthe business there_.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n_Annual court or meeting for the same purposes--nature and manner of the\nbusiness there--striking peculiarities in this manner--character of this\ndiscipline or government_.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n_Excommunication or disowning--nature of disowning as a punishment_.\n\n\n\nPECULIAR CUSTOMS.\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nSECT. I.--_Dress--extravagance of the dress of the fifteenth and\nsixteenth centuries--plain manner in which the grave and religious were\nthen habited--the Quakers sprang out of these_.\n\nSECT. II.--_Quakers carried with them their plain dresses into their new\nsociety--extravagance of the world continuing, they defined the objects\nof dress as a Christian people--at length incorporated it into their\ndiscipline--hence their present dress is only a less deviation from that\nof their ancestors, than that of other people_.\n\nSECT. III.--_Objections of the world to the Quaker dress--those\nexamined--a comparison between the language of Quakerism and of\nChristianity on this subject--opinion of the early Christians upon it._\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n_Furniture--the Quakers use plain furniture--reasons for their\nsingularities in this respect._\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nSECT. I.--_Language--Quakers have altered the common\nlanguage--substitution of Thou for You--reasons for this\nchange--opinions of many learned men concerning it._\n\nSECT. II.--_Various other alterations made--as in titled of address--and\nof honour--reasons for these changes._\n\nSECT. III.--_Another alteration--as in the names of the days and the\nmonths--reasons for this change--various new phrases also introduced._\n\nSECT. IV.--_Objections by the world against the alteration of Thou for\nYou._\n\nSECT. V.--_Against that of titles of address and honour._\n\nSECT. VI.--_Against that of the names of the days and months._\n\nSECT. VIII.--_Advantages and disadvantages of these alterations by the\nQuaker language._\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n_Address--common personal gestures or worldly ceremonies of address\nforbidden--no exception in favour of royalty--reasons against the disuse\nof these._\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n_Manners and conversation--hospitality and freedom in Quakers'\nhouses--their conversation more limited than that of others--subjects of\nconversation examined in our towns--and in the metropolis--extraordinary\ncircumstance that takes place occasionally in the company of the\nQuakers._\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n_Customs before meals--ancients made an oblation to Vesta--moderns have\nsubstituted grace--account of a Quaker-grace._\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n_Customs at and after meals--Quakers never drink healths or\ntoasts--various reasons for their disuse of these customs--and seldom\nallow women to retire after dinner and leave the men drinking--Quakers a\nsober people._\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nMOTIVES FOR THE UNDERTAKING--ORIGIN OF THE NAME OF QUAKERS--GEORGE FOX,\nTHE FOUNDER OF THE SOCIETY-SHORT HISTORY OF HIS LIFE.\n\nFrom the year 1787, when I began to devote my labours to the abolition\nof the slave trade, I was thrown frequently into the company of the\npeople, called Quakers, these people had been then long unanimous upon\nthis subject. Indeed they had placed it among the articles of their\nreligious discipline. Their houses were of course open to me in all\nparts of the kingdom. Hence I came to a knowledge of their living\nmanners, which no other person, who was not a Quaker, could have easily\nobtained.\n\nAs soon as I became possessed of this knowledge, or at least of so much\nof it, as to feel that it was considerable, I conceived a desire of\nwriting their moral history. I believed I should be able to exhibit to\nthe rest of the world many excellent customs, of which they were\nignorant, but which it might be useful to them to know. I believed too,\nthat I should be affording to the Quakers themselves, some lessons of\nutility, by letting them see, as it were in a glass, the reflection of\ntheir own images. I felt also a great desire, amidst these\nconsiderations, to do them justice; for ignorance and prejudice had\ninvented many expressions concerning them, to the detriment of their\ncharacter, which their conduct never gave me reason to suppose, during\nall my intercourse with them, to be true.\n\nNor was I without the belief, that such a history might afford\nentertainment to many. The Quakers, as every body knows, differ more\nthan even many foreigners do, from their own countrymen. They adopt a\nsingular mode of language. Their domestic customs are peculiar. They\nhave renounced religious ceremonies, which all other christians, in some\nform or other, have retained. They are distinguished from all the other\nislanders by their dress. These differences are great and striking. And\nI thought therefore that those, who were curious in the development of\ncharacter, might be gratified in knowing the principles, which produced\nsuch numerous exceptions from the general practices of the world.\n\nBut though I had conceived from the operation of these sentiments upon\nmy mind, as long ago as I have stated, a strong desire to write the\nmoral history of the Quakers, yet my incessant occupations on the\nsubject of the slave-trade, and indisposition of body afterwards, in\nconsequence of the great mental exertions necessary in such a cause,\nprevented me from attempting my design. At length these causes of\nprevention ceased. But when, after this, the subject recurred, I did not\nseem to have the industry and perseverance, though I had still the\ninclination left, for the undertaking. Time, however, continued to steal\non, till at length I began to be apprehensive, but more particularly\nwithin the last two years, that, if I were to delay my work much longer,\nI might not live to begin it at all. This consideration operated upon\nme. But I was forcibly struck by another, namely, that, if I were not to\nput my hand to the task, the Quakers would probably continue to be as\nlittle known to their fellow-citizens, as they are at present. For I did\nnot see who was ever to give a full and satisfactory account of them. It\nis true indeed, that there are works, written by Quakers, from which a\ncertain portion of their history, and an abstract of their religious\nprinciples, might be collected; but none, from whence their living\nmanners could be taken. It is true also that others, of other religious\ndenominations, have written concerning them; but of those authors, who\nhave mentioned them in the course of their respective writings, not one,\nto my knowledge, has given a correct account of them. It would be\ntedious to dwell on the errors of Mosheim, or of Formey, or of Hume, or\non those to be found in many of the modern periodical[1] publications.\nIt seemed, therefore, from the circumstance of my familiar intercourse\nwith the Quakers, that it devolved upon me particularly to write their\nhistory. And I was the more confirmed in my opinion, because, in looking\nforward, I was never able to foresee the time when any other cause would\nequally, with that of the slave-trade, bring any other person, who was\nnot of the society, into such habits of friendship with the Quakers, as\nthat he should obtain an equal degree of knowledge concerning them with\nmyself. By this new consideration I was more than ordinarily stimulated,\nand I began my work.\n\n[Footnote 1: I must except Dr. Toulmin's revision of Neal's history of\nthe Puritans. One or two publications have appeared since, written, in a\nliberal spirit, but they are confined principally to the religious\nprinciples of the Quakers.]\n\nIt is not improbable but some may imagine from the account already\ngiven, that this work will be a partial one, or that it will lean, more\nthan it ought to do, in favour of the Quakers. I do not pretend to say,\nthat I shall be utterly able to divest myself of all undue influence,\nwhich their attention towards me may have produced, or that I shall be\nutterly unbiased, when I consider them as fellow-labourers in the work\nof the abolition of the slave-trade; for if others had put their\nshoulders to the wheel equally with them on the occasion, one of the\ngreatest causes of human misery, and moral evil, that was ever known in\nthe world, had been long ago annihilated, nor can I conceal, that I have\na regard for men, of whom it is a just feature in their character, that,\nwhenever they can be brought to argue upon political subjects, they\nreason upon principle, and not upon consequences; for if this mode of\nreasoning had been adopted by others, but particularly by men in exalted\nstations, policy had given way to moral justice, and there had been but\nlittle public wickedness in the world. But though I am confessedly\npartial to the Quakers on account of their hospitality to me, and on\naccount of the good traits in their moral character, I am not so much\nso, as to be blind to their imperfections. Quakerism is of itself a pure\nsystem, and, if followed closely, will lead towards purity and\nperfection; but I know well that all, who profess it, are not Quakers.\nThe deviation therefore of their practice from their profession, and\ntheir frailties and imperfections, I shall uniformly lay open to them,\nwherever I believe them to exist. And this I shall do, not because I\nwish to avoid the charge of partiality, but from a belief, that it is my\nduty to do it.\n\nThe society, of which I am to speak, are called[2] Quakers by the world,\nbut are known to each other by the name of friends, a beautiful\nappellation, and characteristic of the relation, which man, under the\nchristian dispensation, ought uniformly to bear to man.\n\n[Footnote 2: Justice Bennet of Derby gave the society the name of\nQuakers in the year 1650, because the founder of it ordered him, and\nthose present with him, to tremble at the word of the Lord.]\n\nThe Founder of the society was George Fox He was born of \"honest and\nsufficient parents,\" at Drayton in Leicestershire, in the year 1624. He\nwas put out, when young, according to his own account, to a man, who was\na shoe-maker by trade, and who dealt in wool, and followed grazing, and\nsold cattle. But it appears from William Penn, who became a member of\nthe society, and was acquainted with him that he principally followed\nthe country-part of his master's business. He took a great delight in\nsheep, \"an employment,\" says Penn, \"that very well suited his mind in\nsome respects, both for its innocency and its solitude, and was a just\nfigure of his after ministry and service.\"\n\nIn his youth he manifested a seriousness of spirit, not usual in persons\nof his age. This seriousness grew upon him, and as it encreased he\nencouraged it, so that in the year 1643, or in the twentieth year of\nhis age, he conceived himself, in consequence of the awful impression\nhe had received, to be called upon to separate himself from the world,\nand to devote himself to religion.\n\nAt this time the Church of England, as a Protestant church, had been\nestablished; and many, who were not satisfied with the settlement of it,\nhad formed themselves into different religious sects. There was a great\nnumber of persons also in the kingdom, who approving neither of the\nreligion of the establishment, nor of that of the different\ndenominations alluded to, withdrew from the communion of every visible\nchurch. These were ready to follow any teacher, who might inculcate\ndoctrines that coincided with their own apprehensions. Thus for a way\nlay open among many for a cordial reception of George Fox. But of those,\nwho had formed different visible churches of their own, it may be\nobserved, that though they were prejudiced, the reformation had not\ntaken place so long, but that they were still alive to religious\nadvancement. Nor had it taken place so long, but that thousands were\nstill very ignorant, and stood in need of light and information on that\nsubject.\n\nIt does not appear, however, that George Fox, for the first three years\nfrom the time, when he conceived it to be his duty to withdraw from the\nworld, had done any thing as a public minister of the gospel. He had\ntravelled from the year 1643 to 1646, through the counties of Warwick,\nLeicester, Northampton, and Bedford, and as far as London. In this\ninterval he appears to have given himself up to solemn impressions, and\nto have endeavoured to find out as many serious people as he could, with\na view of conversing with them on the subject of religion.\n\nIn 1647 he extended his travels to Derbyshire, and from thence into\nLancashire, but returned to his native county. He met with many friendly\npeople in the course of this journey, and had many serious conversations\nwith them, but he never joined in profession with any. At Duckenfield,\nhowever, and at Manchester, he went among those, whom he termed \"the\nprofessors of religion,\" and according to his own expressions, \"he staid\na while and declared truth among them.\" Of these some were convinced but\nothers were enraged, being startled at his doctrine of perfection. At\nBroughton in Leicestershire, we find him attending a meeting of the\nBaptists, at which many of other denominations were present. Here he\nspoke publicly, and convinced many. After this he went back to the\ncounty of Nottingham. And here a report having gone abroad, that he was\nan extraordinary young man, many, both priests and people, came far and\nnear to see him.\n\nIn 1648 he confined his movements to a few counties. In this year we\nfind him becoming a public character. In Nottinghamshire he delivered\nhimself in public at three different meetings, consisting either of\npriests and professors, as he calls them, or professors and people. In\nWarwickshire he met with a great company of professors, who were praying\nand expounding the scriptures, in the fields. Here he discoursed\nlargely, and the hearers fell into contention, and so parted. In\nLeicestershire he attended another meeting, consisting of Church people,\nPresbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, where he spoke publicly\nagain. This meeting was held in a church. The persons present discoursed\nand reasoned. Questions were propounded, and answers followed. An answer\ngiven by George Fox, in which he stated that \"the church was the pillar\nand ground of truth, and that it did not consist of a mixed multitude,\nor of an old house, made up of lime, stones, and wood, but of living\nstones, living members, and a spiritual household, of which Christ was\nthe head,\" set them all on fire. The clergyman left the pulpit, the\npeople their pews, and the meeting separated. George Fox, however, went\nafterwards to an Inn, where he argued with priests and professors of all\nsorts. Departing from thence, he took up his abode for some time in the\nvale of Beevor, where he preached Repentance, and convinced many. He\nthen returned into Nottinghamshire, and passed from thence into\nDerbyshire, in both which counties his doctrines spread. And, after\nthis, warning Justices of the Peace, as he travelled along, to do\njustice, and notoriously wicked men to amend their lives, he came into\nthe vale of Beevor again. In this vale it was that he received,\naccording to his own account, his commission from divine authority, by\nmeans of impressions on his mind, in consequence of which he conceived\nit to be discovered to him, among other things, that he was \"to turn the\npeople from darkness to the light.\" By this time he had converted many\nhundreds to his opinions, and divers meetings of Friends, to use his own\nexpression, \"had been then gathered.\"\n\nThe year 1649 was ushered in by new labours. He was employed\noccasionally in writing to judges and justices to do justice, and in\nwarning persons to fulfil the duties of their respective stations in\nlife.\n\nThis year was the first of all his years of suffering. For it happened\non a Sunday morning, that, coming in sight of the town of Nottingham,\nand seeing the great church, he felt an impression on his mind to go\nthere. On hearing a part of the sermon, he was so struck with what he\nsupposed to be the erroneous doctrine it contained, that he could not\nhelp publicly contradicting it. For this interruption of the service he\nwas seized, and afterwards confined in prison. At Mansfield again, as he\nwas declaring his own religious opinions in the church, the people fell\nupon him and beat and bruised him, and put him afterwards in the stocks.\nAt Market Bosworth he was stoned and driven out of the place. At\nChesterfield he addressed both the clergyman and the people, but they\ncarried him before the mayor, who detained him till late at night, at\nwhich unseasonable time the officers and watchmen put him out of the\ntown.\n\nAnd here I would observe, before I proceed to the occurrences of another\nyear, that there is reason to believe that George Fox disapproved of his\nown conduct in having interrupted the service of the church at\nNottingham, which I have stated to have been the first occasion of his\nimprisonment. For if he believed any one of his actions, with which the\nworld had been offended, to have been right, he repeated it, as\ncircumstances called it forth, though he was sure of suffering for it\neither from the magistrates or the people. But he never repeated this,\nbut he always afterwards, when any occasion of religious controversy\noccurred in any of the churches, where his travels lay, uniformly\nsuspended his observations, till the service was over.\n\nGeorge Fox spent almost the whole of the next year, that is, of the year\n1650, in confinement in Derby Prison.\n\nIn 1651, when he was set at liberty, he seems not to have been in the\nleast disheartened by the treatment he had received there, or at the\ndifferent places before mentioned, but to have resumed his travels, and\nto have held religious meetings, as he went along. He had even the\nboldness to go into Litchfield, because he imagined it to be his duty,\nand, with his shoes off to pronounce with an audible voice in the\nstreets, and this on the market-day, a woe against that city. He\ncontinued also to visit the churches, as he journeyed, in the time of\ndivine service, and to address the priests and the people publicly, as\nhe saw occasion, but not, as I observed before, till he believed the\nservice to be over. It does not appear, however, that he suffered any\ninterruption upon these occasions, in the course of the present year,\nexcept at York-Minster; where, as he was beginning to preach after the\nsermon, he was hurried out of it, and thrown down the steps by the\ncongregation, which was then breaking up. It appears that he had been\ngenerally well received in the county of York, and that he had convinced\nmany.\n\nIn the year 1652, after having passed through the shires of Nottingham\nand Lincoln, he came again into Yorkshire. Here, in the course of his\njourney, he ascended Pendle-Hill. At the top of this he apprehended it\nwas opened to him, whither he was to direct his future steps, and that\nhe saw a great host of people, who were to be converted by him in the\ncourse of his ministry. From this time we may consider him as having\nreceived his commission full and complete in his own mind. For in the\nvale of Beevor he conceived himself to have been informed of the various\ndoctrines, which it became his duty to teach, and, on this occasion, to\nhave had an insight of the places where he was to spread them.\n\nTo go over his life, even in the concise way, in which I have hitherto\nattempted it, would be to swell this introduction into a volume. I shall\ntherefore, from this great period of his ministry, make only the\nfollowing simple statement concerning it.\n\nHe continued his labours, as a minister of the gospel, and even\npreached, within two days of his death.\n\nDuring this time he had settled meetings in most parts of the kingdom,\nand had given to these the foundation of that beautiful system of\ndiscipline, which I shall explain in this volume, and which exists among\nthe Quakers at the present day.\n\nHe had travelled over England, Scotland, and Wales. He had been in\nIreland. He had visited the British West-Indies, and America. He had\nextended his travels to Holland, and part of Germany.\n\nHe had written, in this interval, several religious books, and had\naddressed letters to kings, princes, magistrates, and people, as he felt\nimpressions on his mind, which convinced him, that it become his duty to\ndo it.\n\nHe had experienced also, during this interval, great bodily sufferings.\nHe had been long and repeatedly confined in different gaols of the\nkingdom. The state of the gaols, in these times, is not easily to be\nconceived. That of Doomsdale at Launceston in Cornwall, has never been\nexceeded for filth and pestilential noisomeness, nor those of Lancaster\nand Scarborough-castles for exposure to the inclemency of the elements.\nIn the two latter he was scarcely ever dry for two years; for the rain\nused to beat into them, and to run down upon the floor. This exposure to\nthe severity of the weather occasioned his body and limbs to be\nbenumbed, and to swell to a painful size, and laid the foundation, by\ninjuring his health, for future occasional sufferings during the\nremainder of his life.\n\nWith respect to the religious doctrines, which George Fox inculcated\nduring his ministry, it is not necessary to speak of them here, as they\nwill be detailed in their proper places. I must observe, however, that\nhe laid a stress upon many things, which the world considered to be of\nlittle moment, but which his followers thought to be entirely worthy of\nhis spiritual calling. He forbade all the modes and gestures, which are\nused as tokens of obeisance, or flattery, or honour, among men. He\ninsisted on the necessity of plain speech or language. He declaimed\nagainst all sorts of music. He protested against the exhibitions of the\ntheatre, and many of the accustomary diversions of the times. The early\nQuakers, who followed him in all these points, were considered by some\nas turning the world upside down; but they contended in reply, that they\nwere only restoring it to its pure and primitive state; and that they\nhad more weighty arguments for acting up to their principles in these\nrespects, than others had for condemning them for so doing.\n\nBut whatever were the doctrines, whether civil, or moral, or religious,\nwhich George Fox promulgated, he believed that he had a divine\ncommission for teaching them, and that he was to be the RESTORER of\nChristianity; that is, that he was to bring people from Jewish\nceremonies and Pagan-fables, with which it had been intermixed, and also\nfrom worldly customs, to a religion which was to consist of spiritual\nfeeling. I know not how the world will receive the idea, that he\nconceived himself to have had a revelation for these purposes. But\nnothing is more usual than for pious people, who have succeeded in any\nordinary work of goodness, to say, that they were providentially led to\nit, and this expression is usually considered among Christians to be\naccurate. But I cannot always find the difference between a man being\nprovidentially led into a course of virtues and successful action, and\nhis having an internal revelation for it. For if we admit that men may\nbe providentially led upon such occasions, they must be led by the\nimpressions upon their minds. But what are these internal impressions,\nbut the dictates of an internal voice to those who follow them? But if\npious men would believe themselves to have been thus providentially led,\nor acted upon, in any ordinary case of virtue, if it had been crowned\nwith success, George Fox would have had equal reason to believe, from\nthe success that attended his own particular undertaking, that he had\nbeen called upon to engage in it. For at a very early age he had\nconfuted many of the professors of religion in public disputations. He\nhad converted magistrates, priests, and people. Of the clergymen of\nthose times some had left valuable livings, and followed him. In his\nthirtieth year he had seen no less than sixty persons, spreading, as\nministers, his own doctrines. These, and other circumstances which might\nbe related, would doubtless operate powerfully upon him to make him\nbelieve, that he was a chosen vessel. Now, if to these considerations it\nbe added, that George Fox was not engaged in any particular or partial\ncause of benevolence, or mercy, or justice, but wholly and exclusively\nin a religious and spiritual work, and that it was the first of all his\nreligious doctrines, that the spirit of God, _where men were obedient to\nit, guided them in their spiritual concerns_, he must have believed\nhimself, on the consideration of his unparalleled success, to have been\n_providentially led_, or to have had an internal or spiritual commission\nfor the cause, which he had undertaken.\n\nBut this belief was not confined to himself. His followers believed in\nhis commission also. They had seen, like himself, the extraordinary\nsuccess of his ministry. They acknowledged the same internal\nadmonitions, or revelations of the same spirit, in spiritual concerns.\nThey had been witnesses of his innocent and blameless life. There were\nindividuals in the kingdom, who had publicly professed sights and\nprophecies concerning him. At an early age he had been reported, in some\nparts of the country, as a youth, who had a _discerning spirit_. It had\ngone abroad, that he had healed many persons, who had been sick of\nvarious diseases. Some of his prophecies had come true in the lifetime\nof those, who had heard them delivered. His followers too had seen many,\nwho had come purposely to molest and apprehend him, depart quietly, as\nif their anger and their power had been providentially broken. They had\nseen others, who had been his chief persecutors, either falling into\nmisfortunes, or dying a miserable or an untimely death. They had seen\nhim frequently cast into prison, but always getting out again by means\nof his innocence. From these causes the belief was universal among them,\nthat his commission was of divine authority; and they looked upon him\ntherefore in no other light, than that of a teacher, who had been sent\nto them from heaven.\n\nGeorge Fox was in his person above the ordinary size. He is described by\nWilliam Penn as a \"lusty person.\" He was graceful in his countenance.\nHis eye was particularly piercing, so that some of those, who were\ndisputing with him, were unable to bear it. He was, in short, manly,\ndignified, and commanding in his aspect and appearance.\n\nIn his manner of living he was temperate. He ate sparingly. He avoided,\nexcept medicinally, all strong drink.\n\nNotwithstanding the great exercise he was accustomed to take, he allowed\nhimself but little sleep.\n\nIn his outward demeanour he was modest, and without affectation. He\npossessed a certain gravity of manners, but he was nevertheless affable,\nand courteous, and civil beyond the usual forms of breeding.\n\nIn his disposition he was meek, and tender, and compassionate. He was\nkind to the poor, without any exception, and, in his own society, laid\nthe foundation of that attention towards them, which the world remarks\nas an honour to the Quaker-character at the present day. But the poor\nwere not the only persons, for whom, he manifested an affectionate\nconcern. He felt and sympathized wherever humanity could be interested.\nHe wrote to the judges on the subject of capital punishments, warning\nthem not to take away the lives of persons for theft. On the coast of\nCornwall he was deeply distressed at finding the inhabitants, more\nintent upon plundering the wrecks of vessels that were driven upon their\nshores, than upon saving the poor and miserable mariners, who were\nclinging to them; and he bore his public testimony against this\npractice, by sending letters to all the clergymen and magistrates in the\nparishes, bordering upon the sea, and reproving them for their\nunchristian conduct In the West-Indies also he exhorted those, who\nattended his meetings to be merciful to their slaves, and to give them\ntheir freedom in due time. He considered these as belonging to their\nfamilies, and that religious instruction was due to these, as the\nbranches of them, for whom one day or other they would be required to\ngive a solemn account. Happy had it been, if these christian\nexhortations had been attended to, or if those families only, whom he\nthus seriously addressed, had continued to be true Quakers; for they\nwould have set an example, which would have proved to the rest of the\nislanders, and the world at large, that the impolicy is not less than\nthe wickedness of oppression. Thus was George Fox probably the first\nperson, who publicly declared against this species of slavery. Nothing\nin short, that could be deplored by humanity, seems to have escaped his\neye; and his benevolence, when excited, appears to have suffered no\ninterruption in its progress by the obstacles, which bigotry would have\nthrown in the way of many, on account of the difference of a persons\ncountry, or of his colour, or of his sect.\n\nHe was patient under his own sufferings. To those, who smote his right\ncheek, he offered his left; and, in the true spirit of christianity, he\nindulged no rancour against the worst of his oppressors. He made use\noccasionally of a rough expression towards them; but he would never have\nhurt any of them, if he had had them in his power.\n\nHe possessed the most undaunted courage; for he was afraid of no earthly\npower. He was never deterred from going to meetings for worship, though\nhe knew the officers would be there, who were to seize his person. In\nhis personal conversations with Oliver Cromwell, or in his letters to\nhim as protector, or in his letters to the parliament, or to king\nCharles the second, or to any other personage, he discovered his usual\nboldness of character, and never lost, by means of any degrading\nflattery, his dignity as a man.\n\nBut his perseverance was equal to his courage; for he was no sooner out\nof gaol, than he repeated the very acts, believing them to be right, for\nwhich he had been confined. When he was forced also out of the\nmeeting-houses by the officers of justice, he preached at the very\ndoors. In short, he was never hindered but by sickness, or\nimprisonments, from persevering in his religious pursuits.\n\nWith respect to his word, he was known to have held it so sacred, that\nthe judges frequently dismissed him without bail, on his bare promise\nthat he would be forth coming on a given day. On these occasions, he\nused always to qualify his promise by the expression, _\"if the Lord\npermit.\"_\n\nOf the integrity of his own character, as a christian, he was so\nscrupulously tenacious, that, when he might have been sometimes set at\nliberty by making trifling acknowledgements, he would make none, least\nit should imply a conviction, that he had been confined for that which\nwas wrong; and, at one time in particular, king Charles the second was\nso touched with the hardship of his case, that he offered to discharge\nhim from prison by a pardon. But George Fox declined it on the idea,\nthat, as pardon implied guilt, his innocence would be called in question\nby his acceptance of it. The king, however, replied, that \"he need not\nscruple being released by a pardon, for many a man who was as innocent\nas a child, had had a pardon granted him.\" But still he chose to decline\nit. And he lay in gaol, till, upon a trial of the errors in his\nindictment, he was discharged in an honourable way.\n\nAs a minister of the gospel, he was singularly eminent. He had a\nwonderful gift in expounding the scriptures. He was particularly\nimpressive in his preaching; but he excelled most in prayer.\n\nHere it was, that he is described by William Penn, as possessing the\nmost awful and reverend frame he ever beheld. His presence, says the\nsame author, expressed \"a religious majesty.\" That there must have been\nsomething more than usually striking either in his manner, or in his\nlanguage, or in his arguments, or in all of them combined, or that he\nspoke \"in the _demonstration_ of the spirit and with power,\" we are\nwarranted in pronouncing from the general and powerful effects produced.\nIn the year 1648, when he had but once before spoken in public, it was\nobserved of him at Mansfield, at the end of his prayer, _\"that it was\nthen, as in the days of the apostles, when the house was shaken where\nthey were.\"_ In the same manner he appears to have gone on, making a\ndeep impression upon his hearers, whenever he was fully and fairly\nheard. Many clergymen, as I observed before, in consequence of his\npowerful preaching, gave up their livings; and constables, who attended\nthe meetings, in order to apprehend him, felt themselves disarmed, so\nthat they went away without attempting to secure his person.\n\nAs to his life, it was innocent. It is true indeed, that there were\npersons, high in civil offices, who, because he addressed the people in\npublic, considered him as a disturber of the peace. But none of these\never pretended to cast a stain on his moral character. He was considered\nboth by friends and enemies, as irreproachable in his life.\n\nSuch was the character of the founder of Quakerism, He was born in July\n1624, and died on the thirteenth of November 1690, in the sixty-seventh\nyear of his age. He had separated himself from the word in order to\nattend to serious things, as I observed before, at the age of nineteen,\nso that he had devoted himself to the exercises and services of religion\nfor no less a period than forty-eight years. A few hours before his\ndeath, upon some friends asking him how he found himself, he replied\n\"never heed. All is well. The seed or power of God reigns over all, and\nover death itself, blessed be the Lord.\" This answer was full of\ncourage, and corresponded with that courage, which had been conspicuous\nin him during life. It contained on evidence, as manifested in his own\nfeelings, of the tranquillity and happiness of his mind, and that the\npower and terrors of death had been vanquished in himself. It shewed\nalso the ground of his courage and of his confidence. \"He was full of\nassurance,\" says William Penn, \"that he had triumphed over death, and so\nmuch so, even to the last, that death appeared to him hardly worth\nnotice or mention.\" Thus he departed this life, affording an instance of\nthe truth of those words of the psalmist, \"Behold the upright, for the\nend of that man is peace.\"\n\n\n\n\nPREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS\n\nAND\n\nREMARKS.\n\n\n\n\nPREFATORY ARRANGEMENTS AND REMARKS.\n\n\nQUAKERISM, A HIGH PROFESSION--QUAKERS GENERALLY ALLOWED TO BE A MORAL\nPEOPLE--VARIOUS CAUSES OF THIS MORALITY OF CHARACTER--THEIR MORAL\nEDUCATION, WHICH IS ONE OF THEM, THE FIRST SUBJECT FOR CONSIDERATION\n--THIS EDUCATION UNIVERSAL AMONG THEM--ITS ORIGIN--THE PROHIBITIONS\nBELONGING TO IT CHIEFLY TO BE CONSIDERED.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nGeorge Fox never gave, while living, nor left after his death, any\ndefinition of Quakerism. He left, however, his journal behind him, and\nhe left what is of equal importance, his example. Combining these with\nthe sentiments and practice of the early Quakers, I may state, in a few\nwords, what Quakerism is, or at least what we may suppose George Fox\nintended it to be.\n\nQuakerism may be defined to be an attempt, under the divine influence,\nat practical christianity as far as it can be carried. Those, who\nprofess it, consider themselves bound to regulate their opinions, words,\nactions, and even outward demeanour, by christianity, and by\nchristianity alone. They consider themselves bound to give up such of\nthe customs, or fashions of men, however general, or generally approved,\nas militate, in any manner, against the letter or the spirit of the\ngospel. Hence they mix but little with the world, that they may be less\nliable to imbibe its spirit. Hence George Fox made a distinction between\nthe members of his own society and others, by the different appellations\nof _Friends_, and _People of the world_. They consider themselves also\nunder an obligation to follow virtue, not ordinarily, _but even to the\ndeath_. For they profess never to make a sacrifice of conscience, and\ntherefore, if any ordinances of man are enjoined them, which they think\nto be contrary to the divine will, they believe right not to submit to\nthem, but rather, after the example of the apostles and primitive\nchristians, to suffer any loss, penalty, or inconvenience, which may\nresult to them for so doing.\n\nThis then, in a few words, is a general definition of [3]Quakerism. It\nis, as we see, a most strict profession of practical virtue under the\ndirection of christianity, and such as, when we consider the infirmities\nof human nature, and the temptations that daily surround it, it must be\nexceedingly difficult to fulfil. But, whatever difficulties may have\nlain in the way, or however, on account of the necessary weakness of\nhuman nature, the best individuals among the Quakers may have fallen\nbelow the pattern of excellence, which they have copied, nothing is more\ntrue, than that the result has been, that the whole society, as a body,\nhave obtained from their countrymen, the character of a moral people.\n\n[Footnote 3: I wish to be understood, in writing this work, that I can\ngive no account that will be applicable to all under the name of\nQuakers. My account will comprehend the general practice, or that which\nought to be the practice of those, who profess Quakerism.]\n\nIf the reader be a lover of virtue, and anxious for the moral\nimprovement of mankind, he will be desirous of knowing what means the\nQuakers have used to have preserved, for a hundred and fifty years, this\ndesirable reputation in the world.\n\nIf we were to put the question to the Quakers themselves for their own\nopinion upon it, I believe I can anticipate their reply. They would\nattribute any morality, they might be supposed to have, _to the Supreme\nBeing_, whose will having been discovered by means of the scriptures,\nand of religious impressions upon the mind, when it has been calm, and\nstill, and abstracted from the world, they have endeavoured to obey. But\nthere is no doubt, that we may add, _auxiliary causes_ of this morality,\nand such as the Quakers themselves would allow to have had their share\nin producing it, under the same influence. The first of these may be\ncalled their moral education. The second their discipline. The third may\nbe said to consist of those domestic, or other customs, which are\npeculiar to them, as a society of christians. The fourth of their\n_peculiar tenets of religion_. In fact, there are many circumstances\ninterwoven into the constitution of the society of the Quakers, each of\nwhich has a separate effect, and all of which have a combined tendency,\ntowards the production of moral character.\n\nThese auxiliary causes I shall consider and explain in their turn. In\nthe course of this explanation the reader will see, that, if other\npeople were to resort to the same means as the Quakers, they would\nobtain the same reputation, or that human nature is not so stubborn, but\nthat it will yield to a given force. But as it is usual, in examining\nthe life of an individual, to begin with his youth, or, if it has been\neminent, to begin with the education he has received, so I shall fix\nupon the first of the auxiliary causes I have mentioned, or the _moral\neducation_ of the Quakers, as the subject for the first division of my\nwork.\n\nOf this moral education I may observe here, that it is universal among\nthe society, or that it obtains where the individuals are considered to\nbe true Quakers. It matters not, how various the tempers of young\npersons may be, who come under it, they must submit to it. Nor does it\nsignify what may be the disposition, or the whim, and caprice of their\nparents, they must submit to it alike. The Quakers believe that they\nhave discovered that system of morality, which christianity prescribes;\nand therefore that they can give no dispensation to their members, under\nany circumstances whatever, to deviate from it. The origin of this\nsystem, as a standard of education in the society, is as follows.\n\nWhen the first Quakers met in union, they consisted of religious or\nspiritually minded men. From that time to the present, there has always\nbeen, as we may imagine, a succession of such in the society. Many of\nthese, at their great meetings, which have been annual since those days,\nhave delivered their sentiments on various interesting points. These\nsentiments were regularly printed, in the form of yearly epistles, and\ndistributed among Quaker families. Extracts, in process of time, were\nmade from them, and arranged under different heads, and published in one\nbook, under the name of [4]Advices. Now these advices comprehend\nimportant subjects. They relate to customs, manners, fashions,\nconversation, conduct. They contain of course _recommendations_, and\nsuggest _prohibitions_, to the society, as _rules of guidance:_ and as\nthey came from spiritually _minded_ men on _solemn occasions_, they are\nsupposed to have had a _spiritual origin_. Hence Quaker parents manage\ntheir youth according to these _recommendations_ and _prohibitions_, and\nhence this book of extracts (for so it is usually called) from which I\nhave obtained a considerable portion of my knowledge on this subject,\nforms the basis of the moral Education of the Society.\n\n[Footnote 4: The Book is intitled \"Extracts from the minutes made, and\nfrom the advices given, at the yearly Meeting of the Quakers in London,\nsince its first Institution.\"]\n\nOf the contents of this book, I shall notice, while I am treating upon\nthis subject, not those rules which are of a recommendatory, but those,\nwhich are of a _prohibitory nature_. Education is regulated either by\nrecommendations, or by prohibitions, or by both conjoined. The former\nrelate to things, where there is a wish that youth should conform to\nthem, but where a trifling deviation from them would not be considered\nas an act of delinquency publicly reprehensible. The latter to things,\nwhere any compliance with them becomes a positive offence. The Quakers,\nin consequence of the vast power they have over their members by means\nof their discipline, lay a great stress upon the latter. They consider\ntheir prohibitions, when duly watched and enforced, as so many _barriers\nagainst vice_ or _preservatives of virtue_. Hence they are the grand\ncomponent parts of their moral education, and hence I shall chiefly\nconsider them in the chapters, which are now to follow upon this\nsubject.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL EDUCATION OF THE QUAKERS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP.I.\n\n\n_Moral Education of the Quakers--amusements necessary for youth--Quakers\ndistinguish between the useful and the hurtful--the latter specified and\nforbidden._\n\nWhen the blooming spring sheds abroad its benign influence, man feels it\nequally with the rest of created nature. The blood circulates more\nfreely, and a new current of life seems to be diffused, in his veins.\nThe aged man is enlivened, and the sick man feels himself refreshed.\nGood spirits and cheerful countenances succeed. But as the year changes\nin its seasons, and rolls round to its end, the tide seems to slacken,\nand the current of feeling to return to its former level.\n\nBut this is not the case with the young. The whole year to them is a\nkind of perpetual spring. Their blood runs briskly throughout. Their\nspirits are kept almost constantly alive; and as the cares of the world\noccasion no drawback, they feel a perpetual disposition to cheerfulness\nand to mirth. This disposition seems to be universal in them. It seems\ntoo to be felt by us all; that is, the spring, enjoyed by youth, seems\nto operate as spring to maturer age. The sprightly and smiling looks of\nchildren, their shrill, lively, and cheerful voices, their varied and\nexhilarating sports, all these are interwoven with the other objects of\nour senses, and have an imperceptible, though an undoubted influence, in\nadding to the cheerfulness of our minds. Take away the beautiful\nchoristers from the woods, and those, who live in the country, would but\nhalf enjoy the spring. So, if by means of any unparalleled pestilence,\nthe children of a certain growth were to be swept away, and we were to\nlose this infantile link in the chain of age, those, who were left\nbehind, would find the creation dull, or experience an interruption in\nthe cheerfulness of their feelings, till the former were successively\nrestored.\n\nThe bodies, as well as the minds of children, require exercise for their\ngrowth: and as their disposition is thus lively and sportive, such\nexercises, as are amusing, are necessary, and such amusements, on\naccount of the length of the spring which they enjoy, must be expected\nto be long.\n\nThe Quakers, though they are esteemed an austere people, are sensible of\nthese wants or necessities of youth. They allow their children most of\nthe sports or exercises of the body, and most of the amusements or\nexercises of the mind, which other children of the island enjoy; but as\nchildren are to become _men_, and men are to become _moral characters_,\nthey believe that bounds should be drawn, or that an unlimited\npermission to follow every recreation would be hurtful.\n\nThe Quakers therefore have thought it proper to interfere on this\nsubject, and to draw the line between those amusements, which they\nconsider to be salutary, and those, which they consider to be hurtful.\nThey have accordingly struck out of the general list of these such, and\nsuch only, as, by being likely to endanger their morality, would be\nlikely to interrupt the usefulness, and the happiness, of their lives.\nAmong the bodily exercises, _dancing_, and the _diversions of the\nfield_, have been proscribed; among the mental, _music_, _novels_, the\n_theatre_, and all games of _chance_, of every description, have been\nforbidden. These are the principal prohibitions, which the Quakers have\nmade on the subject of their moral education. They were suggested, most\nof them, by George Fox, but were brought into the discipline, at\ndifferent times, by his successors.\n\nI shall now consider each of these prohibitions separately, and I shall\ngive all the reasons, which the Quakers themselves give, why, as a\nsociety of Christians, they have, thought it right to issue and enforce\nthem.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. II ...SECT. I.\n\n_Games of chance--Quakers forbid cards, dice, and other similar\namusements--also, concerns in lotteries--and certain transactions in the\nstocks--they forbid also all wagers, and speculations by a monied\nstake--the peculiar wisdom of the latter prohibition, as collected from\nthe history of the origin of some of the amusements of the times_.\n\n\nWhen we consider the depravity of heart, and the misery and ruin, that\nare frequently connected with gaming, it would be strange indeed, if the\nQuakers, as highly professing Christians, had not endeavoured to\nextirpate it from their own body.\n\nNo people, in fact, have taken more or more effectual measures for its\nsuppression. They have proscribed the use of all games of chance, and of\nall games of skill, that are connected with chance in any manner. Hence\n_cards_, _dice_, _horse-racing_, _cock-fighting_, and all the\namusements, which come under this definition, are forbidden.\n\nBut as there are certain transactions, independently of these\namusements, which are equally connected with hazard, and which\nindividuals might convert into the means of moral depravity and temporal\nruin, they have forbidden these also, by including them under the\nappellation of gaming.\n\nOf this description are concerns in the lottery, from which all Quakers\nare advised to refrain. These include the purchase of tickets, and all\ninsurance upon the same.\n\nIn transactions of this kind there is always a monied stake, and the\nissue is dependent upon chance. There is of course the same fascinating\nstimulus as in cards, or dice, arising from the hope of gain. The mind\nalso must be equally agitated between hope and fear; and the same state\nof desperation may be produced, with other fatal consequences, in the\nevent of loss.\n\nBuying and selling in the public stocks of the kingdom is, under\nparticular circumstances, discouraged also. Where any of the members of\nthe society buy into the stocks, under the idea, that they are likely to\nobtain better security, or more permanent advantages, such a transfer of\ntheir property is allowable. But if any were to make a practice of\nbuying or selling, week after week, upon speculation only, such a\npractice would come under the denomination of gaming. In this case, like\nthe preceding, it is evident, that money would be the object in view;\nthat the issue would be hazardous; and, if the stake or deposit were of\ngreat importance, the tranquillity of the mind might be equally\ndisturbed, and many temporal sufferings might follow.\n\nThe Quakers have thought it right, upon the same principle, to forbid\nthe custom of laying wagers upon any occasion whatever, or of reaping\nadvantage from any doubtful event, by a previous agreement upon a monied\nstake. This prohibition, however, is not on record, like the former, but\nis observed as a traditional law. No Quaker-parent would suffer his\nchild, nor Quaker-schoolmaster the children entrusted to his care, nor\nany member another, to be concerned in amusements of this kind, without\na suitable reproof.\n\nBy means of these prohibitions, which are enforced, in a great measure,\nby the discipline, the Quakers have put a stop to gaming more\neffectually than others, but particularly by means of the latter. For\nhistory has shewn us, that we cannot always place a reliance on a mere\nprohibition of any particular amusement or employment, as a cure for\ngaming, because any pastime or employment, however innocent in itself,\nmay be made an instrument for its designs. There are few customs,\nhowever harmless, which avarice cannot convert into the means of rapine\non the one hand, and of distress on the other.\n\nMany of the games, which are now in use with such pernicious effects to\nindividuals, were not formerly the instruments of private ruin.\nHorse-racing was originally instituted with a view of promoting a better\nbreed of horses for the services of man. Upon this principle it was\ncontinued. It afforded no private emolument to any individual. The\nby-standers were only spectators. They were not interested in the\nvictory. The victor himself was remunerated not with money, but with\ncrowns and garlands, the testimonies of public applause. But the spirit\nof gaming got hold of the custom, and turned it into a private\ndiversion, which was to afford the opportunity of a private prize.\n\nCock-fighting, as we learn from AElian, was instituted by the Athenians,\nimmediately after their victory over the Persians, to perpetuate the\nmemory of the event, and to stimulate the courage of the youth of Greece\nin the defence of their own freedom; and it was continued upon the same\nprinciple, or as a public institution for a public good. But the spirit\nof avarice seized it, as it has done the custom of horse-racing, and\ncontinued it for a private gain.\n\nCards, that is, European cards, were, as all are agreed, of an harmless\norigin. Charles the sixth, of France, was particularly afflicted with\nthe hypochondriasis. While in this disordered state, one of his subjects\ninvented them, to give variety of amusement to his mind. From the court\nthey passed into private families. And here the same avaricious spirit\nfastened upon them, and, with its cruel talons, clawed them, as it were,\nto its own purposes, not caring how much these little instruments of\ncheerfulness in human disease were converted into instruments for the\nextension of human pain.\n\nIn the same manner as the spirit of gaming has seized upon these\ndifferent institutions and amusements of antiquity, and turned them from\ntheir original to new and destructive uses, so there is no certainty,\nthat it will not seize upon others, which may have been innocently\nresorted to, and prostitute them equally with the former. The mere\nprohibition of particular amusements, even if it could be enforced,\nwould be no cure for the evil. The brain of man is fertile enough, as\nfast as one custom is prohibited, to fix upon another. And if all the\ngames, now in use, were forbidden, it would be still fertile enough to\ninvent others for the same purposes. The bird that flies in the air, and\nthe snail, that crawls upon the ground, have not escaped the notice of\nthe gamester, but have been made, each of them, subservient to his\npursuits. The wisdom, therefore, of the Quakers, in making it to be\nconsidered as a law of the society, that no member is to lay wagers, or\nreap advantage from any doubtful event, by a previous agreement upon a\nmonied stake, is particularly conspicuous. For, whenever it can be\nenforced, it must be an effectual cure for gaming. For we have no idea,\nhow a man can gratify his desire of gain by means of any of the\namusements of chance, if he can make no monied arrangements about their\nissue.\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_The first argument for the prohibition of cards, and of similar\namusements, by the Quakers, is--that they are below the dignity of the\nintellect of man, and of his moral and christian character--sentiments\nof Addison on this subject_.\n\n\nThe reasons, which the Quakers give for the prohibition of cards, and of\namusements of a similar nature, to the members of their own society, are\ngenerally such as are given by other Christians, though they make use of\none, which is peculiar to themselves.\n\nIt has been often observed, that the word amusement is proper to\ncharacterize the employments of children, but that the word utility is\nthe only one proper to characterize the employment of men.\n\nThe first argument of the Quakers, on this subject, is of a complexion,\nsimilar to that of the observation just mentioned. For when they\nconsider man, as a reasonable being, they are of opinion, that his\noccupations should be rational. And when they consider him as making a\nprofession of the Christian religion, they expect that his conduct\nshould be manly, serious, and dignified. But all such amusements, as\nthose in question, if resorted to for the filling up of his vacant\nhours, they conceive to be unworthy of his intellect, and to be below\nthe dignity of his Christian character.\n\nThey believe also, when they consider man as a moral being, that it is\nhis duty, as it is unquestionably his interest, to aim at the\nimprovement of his moral character. Now one of the foundations, on which\nthis improvement must be raised, is knowledge. But knowledge is only\nslowly acquired. And human life, or the time for the acquisition of it,\nis but short. It does not appear, therefore, in the judgment of the\nQuakers, that a person can have much time for amusements of this sort,\nif he be bent upon obtaining that object, which will be most conducive\nto his true happiness, or to the end of his existence here.\n\nUpon this first argument of the Quakers I shall only observe, lest it\nshould be thought singular, that sentiments of a similar import are to\nbe found in authors, of a different religious denomination, and of\nacknowledged judgment and merit. Addison, in one of his excellent\nchapters on the proper employment of life, has the following\nobservation: \"The next method, says he, that I would propose to fill up\nour time should be innocent and useful diversions. I must confess I\nthink it is below reasonable creatures, to be altogether conversant in\nsuch diversions, as are merely innocent, and have nothing else to\nrecommend them, but that there is no hurt in them. Whether any kind of\ngaming has even thus much to say for itself I shall not determine: but I\nthink it is very wonderful to see persons of the best sense passing a\ndozen hours together in shuffling and dividing a pack of cards, with no\nother conversation, but what is made up of a few game-phrases, and no\nother ideas, but those of red or black spots ranged together in\ndifferent figures. Would not a man laugh to hear any one of this species\ncomplaining that life is short?\"\n\n\nSECT. III.\n\n_Cards on account of the manner in which they are generally used,\nproduce an excitement of the passions--historical anecdotes of this\nexcitement--this excitement another cause of their prohibition by the\nQuakers, because it unfits the mind, according to their notions, for the\nreception of religious impressions_.\n\n\nThe Quakers are not so superstitious as to imagine that there can be any\nevil in cards, considered abstractedly as cards, or in some of the other\namusements, that have been mentioned. The red or the black images on\ntheir surfaces can neither pollute the fingers, nor the minds, of those\nwho handle them. They may be moved about, and dealt in various ways, and\nno objectionable consequences may follow. They nay be used, and this\ninnocently, to construct the similitudes of things. They may be\narranged, so as to exhibit devices, which may be productive of harmless\nmirth. The evil, connected with them, will depend solely upon the manner\nof their use. If they are used for a trial of skill, and for this\npurpose only, they will be less dangerous, than where they are used for\na similar trial, with a monied stake. In the former case, however, they\nmay be made to ruffle the temper, for, in the very midst of victory, the\ncombatant may experience defeat. In the latter case, the loss of\nvictory will be accompanied by a pecuniary loss, and two causes, instead\nof one, of the excitement of the passions, will operate at once upon the\nmind.\n\nIt seldom happens, and it is much to be lamented, either that children,\nor that more mature persons, are satisfied with amusements of this kind,\nso as to use them simply as trials of skill. A monied stake is usually\nproposed, as the object to be obtained. This general attachment of a\nmonied victory to cards is productive frequently of evil. It generates\noften improper feelings. It gives birth to uneasiness and impatience,\nwhile the contest is in doubt, and not unfrequently to anger and\nresentment, when it is over.\n\nBut the passions, which are thus excited among youth, are excited also,\nbut worked up to greater mischief, where grown up persons follow these\namusements imprudently, than where children are concerned. For though\navarice, and impatience, and anger, are called forth among children,\nthey subside sooner. A boy, though he loses his all when he loses his\nstake, suffers nothing from the idea of having impaired the means of his\nfuture comfort, and independence. His next week's allowance, or the next\nlittle gift, will set him right again. But when a grown up person, who\nis settled in the world, is led on by these fascinating amusements, so\nas to lose that which would be of importance to his present comfort,\nbut more particularly to the happiness of his future life, the case is\nmaterially altered. The same passions, which harass the one, will harass\nthe other, but the effects will be widely different. I have been told\nthat persons have been so agitated before the playing of the card, that\nwas to decide their destiny, that large drops of sweat have fallen from\ntheir faces, though they were under no bodily exertions. Now, what must\nhave been the state of their minds, when the card in question proved\ndecisive of their loss? Reason must unquestionably have fled. And it\nmust have been succeeded instantly either by fury or despair. It would\nnot have been at all wonderful, if persons in such a state were to have\nlost their senses, or, if unable to contain themselves, they were\nimmediately to have vented their enraged feelings either upon\nthemselves, or upon others, who were the authors, or the spectators, of\ntheir loss.\n\nIt is not necessary to have recourse to the theory of the human mind, to\nanticipate the consequences, that would be likely to result to grown up\npersons from such an extreme excitement of the passions. History has\ngiven a melancholy picture of these, as they have been observable among\ndifferent nations of the world.\n\nThe ancient Germans, according to Tacitus, played to such desperation,\nthat, when they had lost every thing else, they staked their personal\nliberty, and, in the event of bad fortune, became the slaves of the\nwinners.\n\nD'Israeli, in his curiosities of literature, has given us the following\naccount. \"Dice, says he, and that little pugnacious animal, the cock,\nare the chief instruments employed by the numerous nations of the east,\nto agitate their minds, and ruin their fortunes, to which the Chinese,\nwho are desperate gamesters, add the use of cards. When all other\nproperty is played away, the Asiatic gambler does not scruple to stake\nhis wife, or his child, on the cast of a dye, or on the strength and\ncourage of a martial bird. If still unsuccessful, the last venture is\nhimself.\"\n\n\"In the island of Ceylon, cock-fighting is carried to a great height.\nThe Sumatrans are addicted to the use of dice. A strong spirit of play\ncharacterizes the Malayan. After having resigned every thing to the good\nfortune of the winner, he is reduced to a horrid state of desperation.\nHe then loosens a certain lock of hair, which indicates war and\ndestruction to all he meets. He intoxicates himself with opium, and\nworking himself to a fit of frenzy, he bites and kills every one, who\ncomes in his way. But as soon as ever this lock is seen flowing, it is\nlawful to fire at the person, and to destroy him as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"To discharge their gambling debts, the Siamese sell their possessions,\ntheir families, and at length themselves. The Chinese play night and\nday, till they have lost all they are worth, and then they usually go\nand hang themselves. In the newly discovered islands of the Pacific\nOcean, they venture even their hatchets, which they hold as invaluable\nacquisitions, on running matches. We saw a man, says Cooke, in his last\nvoyage, beating his breast and tearing his hair in the violence of rage,\nfor having lost three hatchets at one of these races, and which he had\npurchased with nearly half of his property.\"\n\nBut it is not necessary to go beyond our own country for a confirmation\nof these evils. Civilized as we are beyond all the people who have been\nmentioned, and living where the Christian religion is professed, we have\nthe misfortune to see our own countrymen engaged in similar pursuits,\nand equally to the disturbance of the tranquillity of their minds, and\nequally to their own ruin. They cannot, it is true, stake their personal\nliberty, because they can neither sell themselves, nor be held as\nslaves. But we see them staking their comfort, and all their prospects\nin life. We see them driven into a multitude of crimes. We see them\nsuffering in a variety of ways. How often has duelling, with all its\nhorrible effects, been the legitimate offspring of gaming! How many\nsuicides have proceeded from the same source! How many persons in\nconsequence of a violation of the laws, occasioned solely by gaming,\nhave come to ignominious and untimely ends!\n\nThus it appears that gaming, wherever it has been practised to excess,\nwhether by cards, or by dice, or by other instruments, or whether among\nnations civilized or barbarous, or whether in ancient or modern times,\nhas been accompanied with the most violent excitement of the passions,\nso as to have driven its votaries to desperation, and to have ruined\ntheir morality and their happiness.\n\nIt is upon the excitement of the passions, which must have risen to a\nfurious height, before such desperate actions as those, which have been\nspecified, could have commenced, that the Quakers have founded their\nsecond argument for the prohibition of games of chance, or of any\namusements or transactions, connected with a monied stake. It is one of\ntheir principal tenets, as will be diffusively shewn in a future volume,\nthat the supreme Creator of the universe affords a certain portion of\nhis own spirit, or a certain emanation of the pure principle, to all his\nrational creatures, for the regulation of their spiritual concerns. They\nbelieve, therefore, that stillness and quietness, both of spirit and of\nbody, are necessary for them, as far as these can be obtained. For how\ncan a man, whose earthly passions are uppermost, be in a fit state to\nreceive, or a man of noisy and turbulent habits be in a fit state to\nattend to, the spiritual admonitions of this pure influence? Hence one\nof the first points in the education of the Quakers is to attend to the\nsubjugation of the will; to take care that every perverse passion be\nchecked; and that the creature be rendered calm and passive. Hence\nQuaker children are rebuked for all expressions of anger, as tending to\nraise those feelings, which ought to be suppressed. A raising even of\ntheir voices beyond due bounds is discouraged, as leading to the\ndisturbance of their minds. They are taught to rise in the morning in\nquietness, to go about their ordinary occupations with quietness, and to\nretire in quietness to their beds. Educated in this manner, we seldom\nsee a noisy or an irascible Quaker. This kind of education is universal\namong the Quakers. It is adopted at home. It is adopted in their\nschools. The great and practical philanthropist, John Howard, when he\nwas at Ackworth, which is the great public school of the Quakers, was so\nstruck with the quiet deportment of the children there, that he\nmentioned it with approbation in his work on Lazarettos, and gave to the\npublic some of its rules, as models for imitation in other seminaries.\n\nBut if the Quakers believe that this pure principle, when attended to,\nis an infallible guide to them in their religious or spiritual concerns;\nif they believe that its influences are best discovered in the quietness\nand silence of their senses; if, moreover, they educate with a view of\nproducing such a calm and tranquil state; it must be obvious, that they\ncan never allow either to their children, or to those of maturer years,\nthe use of any of the games of chance, because these, on account of\ntheir peculiar nature, are so productive of sudden fluctuations of hope,\nand fear, and joy, and disappointment, that they are calculated, more\nthan any other, to promote a turbulence of the human passions.\n\n\nSECT. IV.\n\n_Another cause of their prohibition is, that, if indulged in, they may\nproduce habits of gaming--these habits after the moral character-they\noccasion men to become avaricious--dishonest--cruel--and disturbers of\nthe order of nature--observations by Hartley from his essay on man._\n\n\nAnother reason, why the Quakers do not allow their members the use of\ncards, and of similar amusements, is, that, if indulged in, they may\nproduce habits of gaming, which, if once formed, generally ruin the\nmoral character.\n\nIt is in the nature of cards, that chance should have the greatest share\nin the production of victory, and there is, as I have observed before,\nusually a monied stake. But where chance is concerned, neither victory\nnor defeat can be equally distributed among the combatants. If a person\nwins, he feels himself urged to proceed. The amusement also points out\nto him the possibility of a sudden acquisition of fortune without the\napplication of industry. If he loses, he does not despair. He still\nperseveres in the contest, for the amusement points out to him the\npossibility of repairing his loss. In short, there is no end of hope\nupon these occasions. It is always hovering about during the contest.\nCards, therefore, and amusements of the same nature, by holding up\nprospects of pecuniary acquisitions on the one hand, and of repairing\nlosses, that may arise on any occasion, on the other, have a direct\ntendency to produce habits of gaming.\n\nNow the Quakers consider these habits as, of all others, the most\npernicious; for they usually change the disposition of a man, and ruin\nhis moral character.\n\nFrom generous-hearted they make him avaricious. The covetousness too,\nwhich they introduce as it were into his nature, is of a kind, that is\nmore than ordinarily injurious. It brings disease upon the body, as it\nbrings corruption upon the mind. Habitual gamesters regard neither their\nown health, nor their own personal convenience, but will sit up night\nafter night, though under bodily indisposition, at play, if they can\nonly grasp the object of their pursuit.\n\nFrom a just and equitable they often render him a dishonest person.\nProfessed gamesters, it is well known, lie in wait for the young, the\nignorant, and the unwary: and they do not hesitate to adopt fraudulent\npractices to secure them as their prey. In toxication has been also\nfrequently resorted to for the same purpose.\n\nFrom humane and merciful they change him into hard hearted and\nbarbarous. Habitual gamesters have compassion foe neither men nor\nbrutes. The former they can ruin and leave destitute, without the\nsympathy of a tear. The latter they can oppress to death, calculating\nthe various powers of their declining strength, and their capability of\nenduring pain.\n\nThey convert him from an orderly to a disorderly being, and to a\ndisturber of the order of the universe. Professed gamesters sacrifice\nevery thing, without distinction, to their wants, not caring if the\norder of nature, or if the very ends of creation, be reversed. They turn\nday into night, and night into day. They force animated nature into\nsituations for which it was never destined. They lay their hands upon\nthings innocent and useful, and make them noxious. They by hold of\nthings barbarous, and render them still more barbarous by their\npollutions.\n\nHartley, in his essay upon man, has the following observation upon\ngaming.\n\n\"The practice of playing at games of chance and skill is one of the\nprincipal amusements of life. And it may be thought hard to condemn it\nas absolutely unlawful, since there are particular cases of persons,\ninfirm in body and mind, where it seems requisite to draw them out of\nthemselves by a variety of ideas and ends in view, which gently engage\nthe attention.--But the reason takes place in very few instances.--The\ngeneral motives to play are avarice, joined with a fraudulent intention\nexplicit or implicit, ostentation of skill, and spleen, through the\nwant of some serious, useful occupation. And as this practice arises\nfrom such corrupt sources, so it has a tendency to increase them; and\nindeed may be considered as an express method of begetting and\ninculcating self-interest, ill will, envy, and the like. For by gaming a\nman learns to pursue his own interest solely and explicitly, and to\nrejoice at the loss of others, as his own gain, grieve at their gain, as\nhis own loss, thus entirely reversing the order established by\nprovidence for social creatures.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. III.....SECT. I.\n\n_Music forbidden--general apology for the Quakers on account of their\nprohibition of so delightful a science--music particularly abused at the\npresent day--wherein this abuse consists--present use of it almost\ninseparable from the abuse._\n\n\nPlato, when he formed what he called his pure republic, would not allow\nmusic to have any place in it. George Fox and his followers were of\nopinion, that it could not be admitted in a system of pure Christianity.\nThe modern Quakers have not differed from their predecessors on this\nsubject; and therefore music is understood to be prohibited throughout\nthe society at the present day.\n\nIt will doubtless appear strange that there should be found people, to\nobject to an art, which is capable of being made productive of so much\npleasurable feeling, and which, if it be estimated either by the extent\nor the rapidity of its progress, is gaining in the reputation of the\nworld. But it may be observed that \"all that glitters is not gold.\" So\nneither is all, that pleases the ear, perfectly salubrious to the mind.\nThere are few customs, against which some argument or other may not be\nadvanced: few in short, which man has not perverted, and where the use\nhas not become, in an undue measure, connected with the abuse.\n\nProvidence gave originally to man a beautiful and a perfect world. He\nfilled it with things necessary and things delightful. And yet man has\noften turned these from their true and original design. The very wood on\nthe surface of the earth he has cut down, and the very stone and metal\nin its bowels he has hewn and cast, and converted into a graven image,\nand worshipped in the place of his beneficent Creator. The food, which\nhas been given him for his nourishment, he has frequently converted by\nhis intemperance into the means of injuring his health. The wine that\nwas designed to make his heart glad on reasonable and necessary\noccasions, he has used often to the stupefaction of his senses, and the\ndegradation of his moral character. The very raiment, which has been\nafforded him for his body, he has abused also, so that it has frequently\nbecome a source for the excitement of his pride.\n\nJust so it has been, and so it is, with music at the present day.\n\nMusic acts upon our senses, and may be made productive of a kind of\nnatural delight, for in the same manner as we receive, through the organ\nof the eye, a kind of involuntary pleasure, when we look at beautiful\narrangements, or combinations, or proportions, in nature, and the\npleasure may be said to be natural, so the pleasure is neither less, nor\nless involuntary, nor less natural, which we receive, through the organ\nof the ear, from a combination of sounds flowing in musical progression.\n\nThe latter pleasure, as it seems natural, so, under certain limitations,\nit seems innocent. The first tendency of music, I mean of instrumental,\nis to calm and tranquillize the passions. The ideas, which it excites,\nare of the social, benevolent, and pleasant kind. It leads occasionally\nto joy, to grief, to tenderness, to sympathy, but never to malevolence,\ningratitude, anger, cruelty, or revenge. For no combination of musical\nsounds can be invented, by which the latter passions can be excited in\nthe mind, without the intervention of the human voice.\n\nBut notwithstanding that music may be thus made the means both of\ninnocent and pleasurable feeling, yet it has been the misfortune of man,\nas mother cases, to abuse it, and never probably more than in the\npresent age. For the use of it, as it is at present taught, is almost\ninseparable from its abuse. Music has been so generally cultivated, and\nto such perfection, that it now ceases to delight the ear, unless it\ncomes from the fingers of the proficient. But great proficiency cannot\nbe obtained in this science, without great sacrifices of time. If young\nfemales are to be brought up to it, rather as to a profession, than\nintroduced to it as a source of occasional innocent recreation, or if\ntheir education is thought most perfect, where their musical attainments\nare the highest, not only hours, but even years, must be devoted to the\npursuit. Such a devotion to this one object must, it is obvious, leave\nless time than is proper for others, that are more important. The\nknowledge of domestic occupations, and the various sorts of knowledge,\nthat are acquired by reading, must be abridged, in proportion as this\nscience is cultivated to professional precision. And hence,\nindependently of any arguments, which the Quakers may advance against\nit, it must be acknowledged by the sober world to be chargeable with a\ncriminal waste of time. And this waste of time is the more to be\ndeprecated, because it frequently happens, that, when young females\nmarry, music is thrown aside, after all the years that have been spent\nin its acquisition, as an employment, either then unnecessary, or as an\nemployment, which, amidst the new cares of a family, they have not\nleisure to follow.\n\nAnother serious charge may be advanced against music, as it is practised\nat the present day. Great proficiency, without which music now ceases to\nbe delightful, cannot, as I have just observed, be made without great\napplication, or the application of some years. Now all this long\napplication is of a sedentary nature. But all occupations of a sedentary\nnature are injurious to the human constitution, and weaken and disorder\nit in time. But in proportion as the body is thus weakened by the\nsedentary nature of the employment, it is weakened again by the\nenervating powers of the art. Thus the nervous system is acted upon by\ntwo enemies at once, and in the course of the long education necessary\nfor this science, the different disorders of hysteria are produced.\nHence the females of the present age, amongst whom this art has been\ncultivated to excess, are generally found to have a weak and languid\nconstitution, and to be disqualified, more than others, from becoming\nhealthy wives, or healthy mothers, or the parents of a healthy progeny.\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_Instrumental forbidden--Quakers cannot learn it on the motives of the\nworld--it is not conducive to the improvement of the moral\ncharacter--affords no solid ground of comfort--nor of true elevation of\nmind--a sensual gratification--remarks of Cowper--and, if encouraged,\nwould interfere with the duty recommended by the Quakers, of frequent\nreligious retirement._\n\n\nThe reader must always bear it in his mind, if the Quakers should differ\nfrom him on any particular subject, that they set themselves apart as a\nchristian community, aiming at christian perfection: that it is their\nwish to educate their children, not as moralists or as philosophers, but\nas christians; and that therefore, in determining the propriety of a\npractice, they will frequently judge of it by an estimate, very\ndifferent from that of the world.\n\nThe Quakers do not deny that instrumental music is capable of exciting\ndelight. They are not insensible either of its power or of its charms.\nThey throw no imputation on its innocence, when viewed abstractly by\nitself; but they do not see anything in it sufficiently useful, to make\nit an object of education, or so useful, as to counterbalance other\nconsiderations, which make for its disuse.\n\nThe Quakers would think it wrong to indulge in their families the usual\nmotives for the acquisition of this science. Self-gratification, which\nis one of them, and reputation in the world, which is the other, are not\nallowable in the Christian system. Add to which that where there is a\ndesire for such reputation, an emulative disposition is generally\ncherished, and envy and vain glory are often excited in the pursuit.\n\nThey are of opinion also, that the learning of this art does not tend to\npromote the most important object of education, the improvement of the\nmind. When a person is taught the use of letters, he is put into the way\nof acquiring natural, historical, religious, and other branches of\nknowledge, and of course of improving his intellectual and moral\ncharacter. But music has no pretensions, in the opinion of the Quakers,\nto the production of such an end. Polybius, indeed relates, that he\ncould give no solid reason, why one tribe of the Arcadians should have\nbeen so civilized, and the others so barbarous, but that the former were\nfond, and the latter were ignorant of music. But the Quakers would\nargue, that if music had any effect in the civilization, this effect\nwould be seen in the manners, and not in the morals of mankind. Musical\nItalians are esteemed a soft and effeminate, but they are generally\nreputed a depraved people. Music, in short, though it breathes soft\ninfluences, cannot yet breathe morality into the mind. It may do to\nsoften savages, but a christian community, in the opinion of the\nQuakers, can admit of no better civilization, than that which the spirit\nof the supreme being, and an observance of the pure precepts of\nchristianity, can produce.\n\nMusic, again, does not appear to the Quakers to be the foundation of any\nsolid comfort in life. It may give spirits for the moment as strong\nliquor does, but when the effect of the liquor is over, the spirits\nflag, and the mind is again torpid. It can give no solid encouragement\nnor hope, nor prospects. It can afford no anchorage ground, which shall\nhold the mind in a storm. The early christians, imprisoned, beaten and\npersecuted even to death, would have had but poor consolation, if they\nhad not had a better friend than music to have relied upon in the hour\nof their distress. And here I think the Quakers would particularly\ncondemn music, if they thought it could be resorted to in the hour of\naffliction, in as much as it would then have a tendency to divert the\nmind from its true and only support.\n\nMusic, again, does not appear to them to be productive of elevated\nthoughts, that is, of such thoughts as raise the mind to sublime and\nspiritual things, abstracted from the inclinations, the temper, and the\nprejudices of the world. The most melodious sounds that human\ninstruments can make, are from the earth earthly. But nothing can rise\nhigher than its own origin. All true elevation therefore can only come,\nin the opinion of the Quakers, from the divine source.\n\nThe Quakers therefore, seeing no moral utility in music, cannot make it\na part of their education. But there are other considerations, of a\ndifferent nature, which influence them in the same way.\n\nMusic, in the first place, is a sensual gratification. Even those who\nrun after sacred music, never consider themselves as going to a place of\ndevotion, but where, in full concert, they may hear the performance of\nthe master pieces of the art. This attention to religious compositions,\nfor the sake of the music, has been noticed by one of our best poets.\n\n   \"and ten thousand sit,\n   Patiently present at a sacred song,\n   Commemoration-mad, content to hear,\n   O wonderful effect of music's power,\n   Messiah's eulogy for Handal's sake!\"\n   COWPER.\n\nBut the Quakers believe, that all sensual desires should be held in due\nsubordination to the pure principle, or that sensual pleasures should be\ndiscouraged, to much as possible, as being opposed to those spiritual\nfeeling, which constitute the only perfect enjoyment of a christian.\n\nMusic, again, if it were encouraged in the society, would be considered\nas depriving those of maturer years of hours of comfort, which they now\nfrequently enjoy, in the service of religion. Retirement is considered\nby the Quakers as a christian duty. The members therefore of this\nsociety are expected to wait in silence, not only in their places of\nworship, but occasionally in their families, or in their private\nchambers, in the intervals of their daily occupations, that, in\nstillness of heart, and in freedom from the active contrivance of their\nown wills, they may acquire both directions and strength for the\nperformance of the duties of life. The Quakers therefore are of opinion,\nthat, if instrumental music were admitted as a gratification in leisure\nhours, it would take the place of many of these serious retirements, and\nbecome very injurious to their interests and their character as\nchristians.\n\n\nSECT. III\n\n_Vocal music forbidden--singing in itself no more immoral than reading\n--but as vocal music articulates ideas, it may convey poison to the mind\n--some ideas in songs contrary to Quaker notions of morality--as\nin hunting songs--or in baccanalian--or in martial--youth make no selection\n--but learn off that fall in their way._\n\n\nIt is an observation of Lactantius, that the \"pleasures we receive\nthrough the organ of the ears, may be as injurious as those we receive,\nthrough the organ of the eyes.\" He does not, however, consider the\neffect of instrumental music as much to be regarded, \"because sounds,\nwhich proceed from air, are soon gone, and they give birth to no\nsentiments that can be recorded. Songs, on the other hand, or sounds\nfrom the voice, may have an injurious influence on the mind.\"\n\nThe Quakers, in their view of this subject, make the same distinction as\nthis ancient father of the church. They have a stronger objection, if it\nbe possible, to vocal, than to instrumental music. Instrumental music,\nthough it is considered to be productive of sensual delight, is yet\nconsidered as incapable, on account of its inability to articulate, or\nits inability to express complex ideas, of conveying either unjust or\nimpure sentiments to the mind. Vocal, on the other hand, is capable of\nconveying to it poison of this sort. For vocal music consists of songs,\nor of words musically expressed by the human voice. But words are the\nrepresentatives of ideas, and, as for as these ideas are pure or\notherwise, so far may vocal music be rendered innocent or immoral.\n\nThe mere singing, it must be obvious, can be no more immoral than the\nreading, of the same song, singing is but another mode of expressing it.\nThe morality of the action will depend upon the words which it may\ncontain. If the words in a song are pure, if the sentiments in it are\njust, and if it be the tendency of these to awaken generous and virtuous\nsympathies, the song will operate no otherwise than a lesson of\nmorality. And will a lesson of morality be less serviceable to us,\nbecause it is dressed up in poetry and musically expressed by the human\nvoice, than when it is conveyed to us in prose? But if, on the other\nhand, the words in a song are in themselves unchaste, if they inculcate\nfalse honour, if they lead to false opinions, if they suggest\nsentiments, that have a tendency to produce depraved feelings, then\nvocal music, by which these are conveyed in pleasing accents to the ear,\nbecomes a destroyer of morals, and cannot therefore be encouraged by\nany, who consider parity of heart, as required by the christian\nreligion. Now the Quakers are of opinion, that the songs of the world\ncontain a great deal of objectionable matter in these respects; and that\nif they were to be promiscuously taken up by children, who have no\npowers of discriminating between the good and the bad, and who generally\nlay hold of all that fall in their way, they would form a system of\nsentimental maxims, very injurious in their tendency to their moral\ncharacter.\n\nIf we were to take a collection of songs as published in books, and were\nto examine these, we should find that such a system might easily be\nformed. And if, again, we were to examine the sentiments contained in\nmany of these, by the known sentiments of the Quakers on the several\nsubjects of each, we should find that, as a highly professing people,\nmore objections would arise against vocal music among them, than among\nother people.\n\nLet us, for example, just glance at that class of songs, which in the\ncollection would be called hunting songs. In these men are invited to\nthe pleasures of the chase, as to pleasures of a superior kind. The\ntriumphs over the timid hare are celebrated in these with a kind of\nenthusiastic joy, and celebrated too as triumphs, worthy of the\ncharacter of men. Glory Is even attached to these pursuits. But the\nQuakers, as it will appear in a future chapter, endeavour to prevent\ntheir youth from following any of the diversions of the field. They\nconsider pleasures as placed on a false foundation, and triumphs as\nunmanly and inglorious, which are founded on circumstances, connected\nwith the sufferings of the brute creation. They cannot therefore approve\nof songs of this order, because they consider them as disseminating\nsentiments that are both unreasonable and cruel.\n\nLet us now go to another class, which may be found in the same\ncollection; I mean the bacchanalian. Men are invited here to sacrifice\nfrequently at the shrine of Bacchus. Joy, good humour, and fine spirits,\nare promised to those, who pour out their libations in a liberal manner.\nAn excessive use of wine, which injures the constitution, and stupifies\nthe faculties, instead of being censured in these songs is sometimes\nrecommended in them, as giving to nature that occasional stimulus, which\nis deemed necessary to health. Poets too, in their songs, have\nconsidered the day as made only for vulgar souls, but the night for the\nbetter sort of people, that they may the better pursue the pleasures of\nthe bottle. Others have gone so far in their songs, as to promise long\nlife as a consequence of drinking; while others, who confess that human\nlife may be shortened by such means, take care to throw out, that, as a\nman's life thus becomes proportionably abridged, it is rendered\nproportionably a merry one. Now the Quakers are so particularly careful\nwith respect to the use of wine and spirituous liquors, that the society\nare annually and publicly admonished to beware of excess. Quakers are\ndiscouraged from going even to inns but for the purposes of business and\nrefreshment, and are admonished to take care, that they stay there no\nlonger than is necessary for such purposes. The Quakers therefore,\ncannot be supposed to approve of any of the songs of this class, as far\nas they recommend or promote drunkenness. And they cannot but consider\nthem as containing sentiments injurious to the morals of their children.\n\nBut let us examine another class of songs, that may be found in the same\ncollection. These may be denominated martial. Now what is generally the\ntenor of these songs? The authors celebrate victories. They endeavour,\nregardless of the question, whether their own cause be a right or a\nwrong one, to excite joy at the events, it is their aim frequently to\nrouse the soul to the performance of martial exploits, as to exploits\nthe fullest of human glory. They frequently threaten enemies with new\nchastisements, and new victories, and breathe the spirit of revenge. But\nthe Quakers consider all wars, whether offensive or defensive, as\nagainst the spirit of the christian religion. They cannot contemplate\nscenes of victory but with the eye of pity, and the tear of compassion,\nfor the sufferings of their fellow-creatures, whether countrymen or\nenemies, and for the devastation of the human race. They allow no glory\nto attach, nor do they give any thing like an honourable reputation, to\nthe Alexanders, the Caesars, or the heroes either of ancient or modern\ndate. They cannot therefore approve of songs of this class, because they\nconceive them to inculcate sentiments, totally contrary to the mild and\npeaceful spirit of the christian religion.\n\nIf we were to examine the collection farther, we might pick out other\nsongs, which might be reckoned of the class of the impure. Among these\nwill be found ideas, so indelicate, that notwithstanding the gloss,\nwhich wit and humour had put over them, the chaste ear could not but be\noffended by their recital. It must be obvious, in this case also, that\nnot only the Quakers, but all persons filling the stations of parents,\nwould be sorry if their children were to come to the knowledge of some\nof these.\n\nIt is unnecessary to proceed farther upon this subject. For the reader\nmust be aware that, while the Quakers hold such sentiments, they can\nnever patronise such songs; and that if those who are taught or allowed\nto sing, generally lay hold of all the songs that come into their way,\nthat is, promiscuously and without selection. The Quakers will have a\nstrong ground as a Christian society, or as a society, who hold it\nnecessary to be watchful over their words as well as their actions, for\nthe rejection of vocal music.\n\n\nSECT. IV.\n\n_The preceding are the arguments of the early Quakers--new state of\nmusic has produced new ones--instrumental now censurable for a waste of\ntime--for leading into company--for its connection with vocal_.\n\n\nThe arguments which have hitherto appeared against the admission of\nmusic into education, are those which were nearly coeval with the\nsociety itself. The incapability of music to answer moral ends, the\nsensuality of the gratification, the impediments it might throw in the\nway of religious retirement, the impurity it might convey to the mind,\nwere in the mouths of the early Quakers. Music at that time was\nprincipally in the hands of those, who made a livelihood of the art.\nThose who followed it as an accomplishment, or a recreation, were few\nand these followed it with moderation. But since those days, its\nprogress has been immense. It has traversed the whole kingdom. It has\ngot into almost all the families of rank and fortune. Many of the middle\nclasses, in imitation of the higher, have received it; and, as it has\nundergone a revolution in the extent, so it has undergone another in the\nobject of its practice. It is learned now, not as a source of occasional\nrecreation, but as a complicated science, where perfection is insisted\nupon to make it worthy of pursuit. In this new state therefore of music\nnew arguments have arisen on the part of the Quakers, which I shall now\nconcisely detail.\n\nThe Quakers, in the first place, are of opinion, that the learning of\nmusic, as it is now learned, cannot be admitted by them as a christian\nsociety, because, proficiency being now the object of it, as has been\nbefore observed, it would keep them longer employed, than is consistent\nwith people, who are commanded to redeem their time.\n\nThey believe also that music in its present state, has an immediate\ntendency to leading into the company of the world. In former tunes, when\nmusic was followed with moderation, it was esteemed as a companion, or\nas a friend: it afforded relaxation after fatigue, and amusement in\nsolitary hours. It drew a young person to his home, and hindered him\nfrom following many of the idle diversions of the times. But now, or\nsince it has been practised with a new object, it produces a different\neffect. It leads into company. It leads to trials of skill. It leads to\nthe making up of festive parties. It leads, for its own gratification,\nto the various places of public resort. Now this tendency of leading\ninto public is considered by the Quakers as a tendency big with the\ndissolution of their society. For they have many customs to keep up,\nwhich are quite at variance with those of the world. The former appear\nto be steep and difficult as common paths. Those of the world to be\nsmooth and easy. The natural inclination of youth, more prone to\nself-gratification than to self-denial, would prefer to walk in the\nlatter. And the influence of fashion would point to the same choice. The\nliberty too, which is allowed in the one case, seems more agreeable than\nthe discipline imposed in the other. Hence it has been found, that in\nproportion as young Quakers mix with the world, they generally imbibe\nits spirit, and weaken themselves as members of their own body.\n\nThe Quakers again, have an objection to the learning of instrumental\nmusic on account of its almost inseparable connection with vocal, in\nconsequence of which, it leads often to the impurity, which the latter\nhas been shewn to be capable of conveying to the mind.\n\nThis connection does not arise so much from the circumstance, that\nthose, who learn to play, generally learn to sing, as from another\nconsideration. Musical people, who have acquired skill and taste, are\ndesirous of obtaining every new musical publication, as it comes out.\nThis desire is produced where there is an aim at perfection in this\nscience. The professed novel reader, we know, waits with impatience for\na new novel. The politician discovers anxiety for his morning paper.\nJust so it is with the musical amateur with respect to a new tune. Now,\nthough many of the new compositions come out for instrumental music\nonly, yet others come out entirely as vocal. These consist of songs sung\nat our theatres, or at our public gardens, or at our other places of\npublic resort, and are afterwards printed with their music, and exposed\nto sale. The words therefore, of these songs, as well as the music that\nis attached to them, fall into the hands of the young amateur. Now as\nsuch songs are not always chaste, or delicate, and as they frequently\ncontain such sentiments, as I have shewn the Quakers to disapprove, the\nyoung musician, if a Quaker, might have his modestey frequently put to\nthe blush, or his delicacy frequently wounded, or his morality often\nbroken in upon, by their perusal. Hence, though instrumental music might\nhave no immoral tendency in itself, the Quakers have rejected it, among\nother reasons, on account of its almost inseparable connection with\nvocal.\n\n\nSECT. V.\n\n_Objection anticipated, that though the arguments, used by the Quakers\nin the preceding chapters, are generally fair and positive, yet an\nexceptionable one seems to have been introduced, by which it appears to\nbe inculcated, that the use of a thing ought to be abandoned on account\nof its abuse--explanation of the distinction, made by the Quakers, in\nthe use of this argument_.\n\n\nI purpose to stop for a while, and to make a distinction, which may now\nbecome necessary, with respect to the use of what may appear to be a\nQuaker principle of argument, before I proceed to a new subject.\n\nIt may have been observed by some of my readers, that though the Quakers\nhave adduced arguments, which may be considered as fair and positive on\nthe subjects, which have come before us, yet they appear to have adduced\none, which is no other, than that of condemning the use of a thing on\naccount of its abuse. Now this mode of reasoning, it will be said has\nbeen exploded by logicians, and for this, among other reasons, that if\nwe were bound to relinquish customs in consequence of it, we should be\nobliged to give up many things that are connected with the comforts, and\neven with the existence of our lives.\n\nTo this observation I must reply, that the Quakers never recommend an\nabstinence from any custom, merely because the use of it may lead to its\nabuse.\n\nWhere a custom is simply liable to abuse, they satisfy themselves with\nrecommending moderation in the use of it.\n\nBut where the abuse of a custom is either, in the first place,\nnecessarily, or, in the second very generally connected with the use of\nit, they generally consider the omission of it as morally wise and\nprudent. It is in these two cases only that they apply, or that they lay\nany stress upon the species of argument described.\n\nThis species of argument, under these two limitations, they believe to\nbe tenable in christian morals, and they entertain this belief upon the\nfollowing grounds.\n\nIt may be laid down as a position, that the abuse of any custom which is\ninnocent in itself, is an evil, and that it may become a moral evil. And\nthey conceive it to become a moral evil in the eye of christianity, when\nit occasions either the destruction of the health of individuals, or\nthe misapplication of their time, or the excitement of their worst\npassions, or the loss of their moral character.\n\nIf therefore the use of any custom be necessarily (which is the first of\nthe two cases) connected with its abuse, and the abuse of it be the\nmoral evil described, the user or practiser cannot but incur a certain\ndegree of guilt. This first case will comprehend all those uses of\nthings, which go under the denomination of gaming.\n\nIf again, the use of a custom be either through the influence of\nfashion, or its own seductive nature, or any other cause, very generally\n(which is the second case) connected with its abuse, and the abuse be\nalso of the nature supposed, then the user or practiser, if the custom\nbe unnecessary, throws himself wantonly into danger of evil, contrary to\nthe watchfulness which christianity enjoins in morals; and, if he falls,\nfalls by his own fault. This watchfulness against moral danger the\nQuakers conceive to be equally incumbent upon Christians, as\nwatchfulness upon persons against the common dangers of life. If two\nthirds of all the children, who had ever gone to the edge of a precipice\nto play, had fallen down and been injured, it would be a necessary\nprudence in parents to prohibit all such goings in future. So they\nconceive it to be only a necessary prudence in morals, to prohibit\ncustoms, where the use of them is very generally connected with a\ncensurable abuse. This case will comprehend music, as practised at the\npresent day, because they believe it to be injurious to health, to\noccasion a waste of time, to create an emulative disposition, and to\ngive an undue indulgence to sensual feeling.\n\nAnd as the Quakers conceive this species of argument to be tenable in\nChristian morals, so they hold it to be absolutely necessary to be\nadopted in the education of youth. For grown up persons may have\nsufficient judgment to distinguish between the use of a thing and its\nabuse. They may discern the boundaries of each, and enjoy the one, while\nthey avoid the other. But youth have no such power of discrimination.\nLike inexperienced mariners, they know not where to look for the deep\nand the shallow water, and, allured by enchanting circumstances, they\nmay, like those who are reported to have been enticed by the voices of\nthe fabulous Syrens, easily overlook the danger, that assuredly awaits\nthem in their course.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IV. SECT. I.\n\n_The theatre--the theatre as well as music abused--plays respectable in\ntheir origin--but degenerated--Solon, Plato, and the ancient moralists\nagainst them--particularly immoral in England in the time of Charles\nthe second--forbidden by George Fox--sentiments of Archbishop\nTillotson--of William Law--English plays better than formerly, but still\nobjectionable--prohibition of George Fox continued by the Quakers._\n\n\nIt is much to be lamented that customs, which originated in respectable\nmotives, and which might have been made productive of innocent pleasure,\nshould have been so perverted in time, that the continuation of them\nshould be considered as a grievance by moral men. As we have seen this\nto be the case, in some measure, with respect to music, so it is the\ncare with respect to plays.\n\nDramatic compositions appear to have had no reprehensible origin. It\ncertainly was an object with the authors of some of the earliest plays\nto combine the entertainment with the moral improvement of the mind.\nTragedy was at first simply a monody to Bacohus. But the tragedy of the\nancients, from which the modern is derived, did not arise in the world,\ntill the dialogue and the chorus were introduced. Now the chorus, as\nevery scholar knows, was a moral office. They who filled it, were loud\nin their recommendations of justice and temperance. They inculcated a\nreligious observance of the laws. They implored punishment on the\nabandoned. They were strenuous in their discouragement of vice, and in\nthe promotion of virtue. This office therefore, being coeval with\ntragedy itself, preserves it from the charge of an immoral origin.\n\nNor was comedy, which took its rise afterwards, the result of corrupt\nmotives. In the most ancient comedies, we find it to have been the great\nobject of the writers to attack vice. If a chief citizen had acted\ninconsistently with his character, he was ridiculed upon the stage. His\nvery name was not concealed on the occasion. In the course of time\nhowever, the writers of dramatic pieces were forbidden to use the names\nof the persons, whom they proposed to censure. But we find them still\nadhering to the same great object, the exposure of vice; and they\npainted the vicious character frequently so well, that the person was\nsoon discovered by the audience, though disguised by a fictitious name.\nWhen new restrictions, were afterwards imposed upon the writers of such\npieces, they produced a new species of comedy. This is that which\nobtains at the present day. It consisted of an imitation of the manners\nof common life. The subject, the names, and the characters, belonging\nto it, were now all of them feigned. Writers, however, retained their\nold object of laughing at folly and of exposing vice.\n\nThus it appears that the theatre, as far as tragedy was employed,\ninculcated frequently as good lessons of morality, as heathenism could\nproduce, and as far as comedy was concerned, that it became often the\nnext remedy, after the more grave and moral lectures of the ancient\nphilosophers, against the prevailing excesses of the times.\n\nBut though the theatre professed to encourage virtue, and to censure\nvice, yet such a combination of injurious effects was interwoven with\nthe representations there, arising either from the influence of fiction\nupon morals, or from the sight of the degradation of the rational\ncharacter by buffoonery, or from the tendency of such representations to\nproduce levity and dissipation, or from various other causes, that they,\nwho were the greatest lovers of virtue in those days, and the most\nsolicitous of improving the moral condition of man, began to consider\nthem as productive of much more evil than of good. Solon forewarned\nThespis, that the effects of such plays, as he saw him act, would become\nin time injurious to the morals of mankind, and he forbade him to act\nagain. The Athenians, though such performances were afterwards allowed,\nwould never permit any of their judges to compose a comedy. The\nSpartans under Lycurgus, who were the most virtuous of all the people of\nGreece, would not suffer either tragedies or comedies to be acted at\nall. Plato, as he had banished music, so he banished theatrical\nexhibitions from his pure republic. Seneca considered, that vice made\ninsensible approaches by means of the stage, and that it stole on the\npeople in the disguise of pleasure. The Romans, in their purer times,\nconsidered the stage to be so disgraceful, that every Roman was to be\ndegraded, who became an actor, and so pernicious to morals, that they\nput it under the power of a censor, to control its effects.\n\nBut the stage, in the time of Charles the second, when the Quakers first\nappeared in the world, was in a worse state than even in the Grecian or\nRoman times. If there was ever a period in any country, when it was\nnoted as the school of profligate and corrupt morals, it was in this\nreign. George Fox therefore, as a christian reformer, could not be\nsupposed to be behind the heathen philosophers, in a case where morality\nwas concerned. Accordingly we find him protesting publicly against all\nsuch spectacles. In this protest, he was joined by Robert Barclay and\nWilliam Penn, two of the greatest men of those times, who in their\nrespective publications attacked them with great spirit. These\npublications shewed the sentiments of the Quakers, as a religious body,\nupon this subject. It was understood that no Quaker could be present at\namusements of this sort. And this idea was confirmed by the sentiments\nand advices of several of the most religious members, which were\ndelivered on public occasions. By means of these publications and\nadvices the subject was kept alive, till it became at length\nincorporated into the religious discipline of the Quakers. The theatre\nwas then specifically forbidden; and an inquiry was annually to be made\nfrom thenceforward, whether any of the members of the society had been\nfound violating the prohibition.\n\nSince the time of Charles the second, when George Fox entered his\nprotest against exhibitions of this sort, it must certainly be\nconfessed, that an alteration has taken place for the better in the\nconstitution of our plays, and that poison is not diffused into morals,\nby means of them, to an equal extent, as at that period. The mischief\nhas been considerably circumscribed by legal inspection, and, it is to\nbe hoped, by the improved civilization of the times. But it does not\nappear by any historical testimony we have, that a change has been made,\nwhich is at all proportioned to the quantity of moral light, which has\nbeen diffused among us since that reign. Archbishop Tillotson was of\nopinion, \"that plays might be so framed, and they might be governed by\nsuch rules, as not only to be innocently diverting, but instructive and\nuseful to put some follies and vices out of countenance, which could not\nperhaps be so decently reproved, nor so effectually exposed or corrected\nany other way.\" And yet he confesses, that, \"they were so full of\nprofaneness, and that they instilled such bad principles into the mind,\nin his own day, that they ought not to have been tolerated in any\ncivilized, and much less in a Christian nation.\" William Law, an eminent\ndivine of the establishment, who lived after Tillitson, declared in one\nof his publications on the subject of the stage, that \"you could not\nthen see a play in either house, but what abounded with thoughts,\npassages, and language contrary to the Christian religion.\" From the\ntime of William Law to the present about forty years have elapsed, and\nwe do not see, if we consult the controversial writers on the subject,\nwho live among us, that the theatre has become much less objectionable\nsince those days. Indeed if the names only of our modern plays were to\nbe collected and published, they would teach us to augur very\nunfavourably as to the morality of their contents. The Quakers\ntherefore, as a religions body, have seen no reason, why they should\ndiffer in opinion from their ancestors on this subject: and hence the\nprohibition which began in former times with respect to the theatre, is\ncontinued by them at the present day.\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_Theatre forbidden by the Quakers on account of the manner of the\ndrama--first, as it personates the character of others--secondly, as it\nprofesses to reform vice_.\n\n\nThe Quakers have many reasons to give, why, as a society of christians\nthey cannot encourage the theatre, by being present at any of its\nexhibitions. I shall not detail all of them for the reader, but shall\nselect such only, as I think most material to the point.\n\nThe first class of arguments comprehends such as relate, to what may be\ncalled the manner of the drama. The Quakers object to the manner of the\ndrama, or to its fictitious nature, in consequence of which men\npersonate characters, that are not their own. This personification they\nhold to be injurious to the man, who is compelled to practise it. Not\nthat he will partake of the bad passions, which he personates, but that\nthe trick and trade of representing what he does not feel, must make him\nat all times an actor; and his looks, and words, and actions, will be\nall sophisticated. And this evil will be likely to continue with him in\nthe various changes of his life.\n\nThey hold it also to be contrary to the spirit of Christianity. For men\nwho personate characters in this way, express joy and grief, when in\nreality there may be none of these feelings in their hearts. They\nexpress noble sentiments, when their whole lives may have been\nremarkable for their meanness, and go often afterwards and wallow in\nsensual delights. They personate the virtuous character to day, and\nperhaps to-morrow that of the rake, and, in the latter case, they utter\nhis profligate sentiments, and speak his profane language. Now\nChristianity requires simplicity and truth. It allows no man to pretend\nto be what he is not. And it requires great circumspection of its\nfollowers with respect to what they may utter, because it makes every\nman accountable for his idle words.\n\nThe Quakers therefore are of opinion, that they cannot as men, either\nprofessing christian tenets, or christian love, encourage others to\nassume false characters, or to [5] personate those which are not their\nown.\n\n[Footnote 5: Rousseau condemns the stage upon the same principle. \"It\nis, says he, the art of dissimulation--of assuming a foreign character,\nand of appearing differently from what a man really is--of flying into a\npassion without a cause, and of saying what he does not think, as\nnaturally as if he really did--in a word of forgetting himself to\npersonate others.\"]\n\nThey object also to the manner of the drama, even where it professes to\nbe a school for morals. For where it teaches morality, it inculcates\nrather the refined virtue of heathenism, than the strict, though mild\ndiscipline of the gospel. And where it attempts to extirpate vice, it\ndoes it rather by making it ridiculous, than by making men shun it for\nthe love of virtue. It no where fixes the deep christian principle, by\nwhich men are bound to avoid it as sin, but places the propriety of the\ndereliction of it rather upon the loss of reputation among the world,\nthan upon any sense of religious duty.\n\n\nSECT. III.\n\n_Theatre forbidden an account of the internal contents of the\ndrama--both of those of tragedy--and of comedy--these contents hold out\nfalse morals and prospects--and weaken the sinews of morality\n--observations of Lord Kaimes upon the subject._\n\n\nThe next class of arguments is taken from the internal contents of the\ndrama.\n\nThe Quakers mean that dramatic compositions generally contain false\nsentiments, that is, such as christianity would disapprove; that, of\ncourse they hold out false prospects; that they inculcate false morals;\nand that they have a tendency from these, and other of their internal\ncontents, to promote dissipation, and to weaken the sinews of morality\nin those who see them represented upon the stage.\n\nTragedy is considered by the Quakers, as a part of the drama, where the\nhero is generally a warrior, and where a portion of human happiness is\nmade to consist of martial glory. Hence it is considered as frequently\ninculcating proud and lofty sentiments, as cherishing a fierce and\nromantic spirit, as encouraging rival enmities, as holding of no\nimportance the bond of love and union between man and man. Now as\nchristianity enjoins humility, peace, quietness, brotherly affection,\nand charity, which latter is not to be bounded by the limits of any\ncountry, the Quakers hold as a christian body, that they cannot admit\ntheir children to spectacles, which have a tendency to engender a\ndisposition opposite to these.\n\nComedy is considered as holding out prospects, and inculcating morals,\nequally false and hurtful. In such compositions, for example, a bad\nimpression is not uniformly given of a bad character. Knavery frequently\naccomplishes its ends without the merited punishment. Indeed treachery\nand intrigue are often considered but as jocose occurrences. The laws of\nmodern honour are frequently held out to the spectator, as laws that are\nto influence in life. Vulgar expressions, and even swearing are admitted\nupon the stage. Neither is chastity nor delicacy always consulted there.\nImpure allusions are frequently interwoven into the dialogue, so that\ninnocence cannot but often blush. Incidents not very favourable to\nmorals, are sometimes introduced. New dissipated characters are produced\nto view, by the knowledge of which, the novice in dissipation is not\ndiverted from his new and baneful career, but finds only his scope of\ndissipation enlarged, and a wider field to range in. To these hurtful\nviews of things, as arising from the internal structure, are to be added\nthose, which arise from the extravagant love-tales, the ridiculous\nintrigues, and the silly buffoonery of the compositions of the stage.\n\nNow it is impossible, the Quakers contend, that these ingredients, which\nare the component parts of comic amusements, should not have an\ninjurious influence upon the mind that is young and tender and\nsusceptible of impressions. If the blush which first started upon the\ncheek of a young person on the first hearing of an indecorous or profane\nsentiment, and continued for some time to be excited at repetitions of\nthe same, should at length be so effectually laid asleep, that the\nimpudent language of ribaldry can awaken it no more, it is clear, that a\nvictory will have been gained over his moral feelings: and if he should\nremember (and what is to hinder him, when the occurrences of the stage\nare marked with strong action, and accompanied with impressive scenery)\nthe language, the sentiments, the incidents, the prospects, which\ndramatic pieces have brought before him, he may combine these, as they\nrise to memory, with his own feelings, and incorporate them\nimperceptibly into the habits and manners of his own life. Thus, if vice\nbe not represented as odious, he may lose his love of virtue. If\nbuffoonery should be made to please him, he may lose the dignity of his\nmind. Love-tales may produce in him a romantic imagination. Low\ncharacters may teach him low cunning. If the laws of honour strike him\nas the laws of refined life, he may become a fashionable moralist. If\nmodes of dissipation strike him us modes of pleasure in the estimation\nof the world, he may abandon himself to these, and become a rake. Thus\nmay such representations, in a variety of ways, act upon the moral\nprinciple, and make an innovation there, detrimental to his moral\ncharacter.\n\nLord Kaimes, in his elements of criticism, has the following\nobservations.\n\n\"The licentious court of Charles the second, among its many disorders,\nengendered a pest, the virulence of which subsists to this day. The\nEnglish comedy, copying the manners of the court, became abominably\nlicentious; and continues so with very little softening. It is there an\nestablished rule to deck out the chief characters with every vice in\nfashion however gross; but as such characters, if viewed in a true\nlight, would be disgustful, care is taken to disguise their deformity\nunder the embellishments of wit, sprightliness and good humour, which,\nin mixed company makes a capital figure. It requires not much thought to\ndiscover the poisonous influence of such plays. A young man of figure,\nemancipated at last from the severity and restraint of a college\neducation, repairs to the capital disposed to every sort of excess. The\nplay-house becomes his favourite amusement, and he is enchanted with the\ngaiety and splendour of the chief personages. The disgust which vice\ngives him at first, soon wears off to make way for new notions, more\nliberal in his opinion, by which a sovereign contempt of religion, and a\ndeclared war upon the chastity of wives, maids and widows, are converted\nfrom being infamous vices to be fashionable virtues. The infection\nspreads gradually through all ranks and becomes universal. How gladly\nwould I listen to any one, who should undertake to prove, that what I\nhave been describing is chimerical! But the dissoluteness of our young\nmen of birth will not suffer me to doubt its reality. Sir Harry Wildair\nhas completed many a rake; and in the suspicious husband, Ranger, the\nhumble imitator of Sir Harry, has had no slight influence in spreading\nthat character. What woman, tinctured with the play-house morals, would\nnot be the sprightly, the witty, though dissolute Lady Townley, rather\nthan the cold, the sober, though virtuous Lady Grace? How odious ought\nwriters to be who thus employ the talents they have from their maker\nmost traitorously against himself, by endeavouring to corrupt and\ndisfigure his creatures! If the comedies of Congreve did not rack him\nwith remorse in his last moments, he must have been lost to all sense of\nvirtue.\"\n\n\nSECT. IV.\n\n_The theatre forbidden--because injurious to the happiness of man by\ndisqualifying him for the pleasures of religion--this effect arises\nfrom its tendency to accustom individuals to light thoughts--to injure\ntheir moral feelings--to occasion an extraordinary excitement of the\nmind--and from the very nature of the enjoyments which it produces._\n\n\nAs the Quakers consider the theatre to have an injurious effect on the\nmorality of man, so they consider it to have an injurious effect on his\nhappiness. They believe that amusements of this sort, but particularly\nthe comic, unfit the mind for the practical performance of the christian\nduties, and that as the most pure and substantial happiness, that man\ncan experience, is derived from a fulfilment of these, so they deprive\nhim of the highest enjoyment of which his nature is capable, that is, of\nthe pleasures of religion.\n\nIf a man were asked, on entering the door of the theatre, if he went\nthere to learn the moral duties, he would laugh at the absurdity of the\nquestion; and if he would consent to give a fair and direct answer, he\nwould either reply, that he went there for amusement, or to dissipate\ngloom, or to be made merry. Some one of these expressions would probably\ncharacterise his errand there. Now this answer would comprise the\neffect, which the Quakers attach to the comic performances of the stage.\nThey consider them as drawing the mind from serious reflection, and\ndisposing it to levity. But they believe that a mind, gradually\naccustomed to light thoughts, and placing its best gratification in\nlight objects, must be disqualified in time for the gravity of religious\nexercise, and be thus hindered from partaking of the pleasures which\nsuch an exercise must produce.\n\nThey are of opinion also, that such exhibitions, having, as was lately\nmentioned, a tendency to weaken the moral character, must have a\nsimilarly injurious effect. For what innovations can be made on the\nhuman heart, so as to seduce it from innocence, that will not\nsuccessively wean it both from the love and the enjoyment of the\nChristian virtues?\n\nThe Quakers also believe, that dramatic exhibitions have a power of vast\nexcitement of the mind. If they have no such power, they are insipid. If\nthey have, they are injurious. A person is all the evening at a play in\nan excited state. He goes home, and goes to bed with his imagination\nheated, and his passions roused. The next morning he rises. He remembers\nwhat he has seen and heard, the scenery, the language, the sentiments,\nthe action. He continues in the same excited state for the remainder of\nthe day. The extravagant passions of distracted lovers, the wanton\naddresses of actors, are still fresh upon his mind. Now it is contended\nby the Quakers, that a person in such an excited state, but particularly\nif the excitement pleases, must be in a very unfavourable state for the\nreception of the pure principle, or for the promotion of the practical\nduties of religion. It is supposed that if any religious book, or if any\npart of the sacred writings, were handed to him in these moments, he\nwould be incapable of enjoying them; and of course, that religious\nretirement, which implies an abstraction from the tilings of the world,\nwould be impracticable at such a season.\n\nThe Quakers believe also, that the exhibitions of the drama must, from\ntheir own nature, without any other consideration, disqualify for the\npleasures of religion. It was a frequent saying of George Fox, taken\nfrom the apostle Peter, that those who indulged in such pleasures were\ndead, while they were alive; that is, they were active in their bodies;\nthey ran about briskly after their business or their pleasures; they\nshewed the life of their bodily powers; but they were extinct as to\nspiritual feeling. By this he meant that the pleasures of the theatre,\nand others of a similar nature, were in direct opposition to the\npleasures of religion. The former were from the world worldly. They were\ninvented according to the dispositions and appetites of men. But the\nlatter were from the spirit spiritual. Hence there was no greater\ndifference between life and death, than between these pleasures. Hence\nthe human mind was made incapable of receiving both at the same time;\nand hence the deeper it were to get into the enjoyment of the former,\nthe less qualified it must become of course for the enjoyment of the\nlatter.\n\n\nSECT. V.\n\n_Theatre forbidden--because injurious to the happiness of man by\ndisqualifying him for domestic enjoyments--Quakers value these next to\nthe pleasures of religion--sentiments of Cowper--theatre has this\ntendency, by weaning gradually from a love of home--and has it in a\ngreater degree than any other of the amusements of the world._\n\n\nThe Quakers, ever since the institution of their society, have abandoned\nthe diversions of the world. They have obtained their pleasures from\nother quarters. Some of these they have found in one species of\nenjoyment, and others in another. But those, which they particularly\nprize, they have found in the enjoyment of domestic happiness; and these\npleasures they value next to the pleasures of religion.\n\n   [6] \"Domestic happiness, thou only bliss\n   Of Paradise, that has survived the fall!\n   Thou art the nurse of virtue--In thine arms\n   She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is,\n   Heav'n-born, and destin'd to the skies again.\n   Thou art not known, where pleasure is ador'd,\n   That reeling goddess, with a zoneless waist\n   And wandering eyes, still leaning on the arm\n   Of Novelty, her fickle, frail support;\n   For thou art meek and constant, hating change,\n   And finding, in the calm of truth-tried love,\n   Joys, that her stormy raptures never yield.\n   Forsaking thee, what shipwreck have we made\n   Of honour, dignity, and fair renown!\"\n\n[Footnote 6: COWPER.]\n\nBut if the Quakers have been accustomed to place one of the sources of\ntheir pleasures in domestic happiness, they may be supposed to be\njealous of every thing that appears to them to be likely to interrupt\nit. But they consider dramatic exhibitions, as having this tendency.\nThese exhibitions, under the influence of plot, dialogue, dress, music,\naction, and scenery, particularly fascinate. They excite the person, who\nhas once seen them, to desire them again. But in proportion as this\ndesire is gratified, or in proportion as people leave their homes for\nthe amusements of the stage, they lose their relish, and weaken their\npowers, of the enjoyment of domestic society: that is, the Quakers mean\nto say, that domestic enjoyments, and those of the theatre, may become,\nin time, incompatible in the same persons; and that the theatre ought,\ntherefore, to be particularly avoided, as an enemy, that may steal them,\nand rob them of those pleasures, which experience has taught them to\nvalue, as I have observed before, next to the pleasures of religion.\n\nThey are of opinion also, that dramatic exhibitions not only tend, of\nthemselves, to make home less agreeable, but that they excite a craving\nfor stimulants, and, above all, teach a dependence upon external objects\nfor amusement. Hence the attention of people is taken off again to new\nobjects of pleasure, which lie out of their own families, and out of the\ncircle of their friends.\n\nIt will not take much time to shew, that the Quakers have not been\nmistaken in this point. It is not unusual in fashionable circles, where\nthe theatre is regularly brought into the rounds of pleasure, for the\nfather and the mother of a family to go to a play once, or occasionally\ntwice, a week. But it seldom happens, that they either go to the same\ntheatre, or that they sit together. Their children are at this time left\nat home, under, what is considered to be, proper care, but they are\nprobably never seen again by them till the next noon; and perhaps once\nafterwards in the same day, when it is more than an even chance, that\nthey must be again left for the gratification of some new pleasure. Now\nthis separation of fathers from mothers, and of parents from children,\ndoes not augur well of domestic enjoyments or of a love of home.\n\nBut we will trace the conduct of the parents still farther. We will get\ninto their company at their own houses; and here we shall very soon\ndiscover, how wearisome they consider every hour, that is spent in the\nbosom of their families, when deprived of their accustomed amusements;\nand with what anxiety they count the time, when they are to be restored\nto their favourite rounds of pleasure. We shall find no difficulty in\njudging also from their conversation, the measure of their thought or\ntheir solicitude about their children. A new play is sure to claim the\nearliest attention or discussion. The capital style, in which an actor\nperformed his part on a certain night, furnishes conversation for an\nhour. Observations on a new actress perhaps follow. Such subjects appear\nmore interesting to such persons, than the innocent conversation, or\nplayful pranks, of their children. If the latter are noisy, they are\noften sent out of the room as troublesome, though the same parents can\nbear the stunning plaudits, or the discordant groans and hissings of the\naudience at the theatre. In the mean time their children grow up, and in\ntheir turn, are introduced by their parents to these amusements, as to\nplaces, proper for the dissipation of vacant hours; till, by frequent\nattendances, they themselves lose an affection for home and the domestic\nduties, and have in time as little regard for their parents, as their\nparents appear to have had for them. Marrying at length, not for the\nenjoyment of domestic society, they and their children perpetuate the\nsame rounds of pleasure, and the same sentiments and notions.\n\nTo these instances many indeed might be added, by looking into the\nfamily-histories of those, who are in the habit of frequenting theatres\nin search of pleasure, by which it would appear, that such amusements\nare not friendly to the cherishing of the domestic duties and\naffections, but that, on the other hand, in proportion as they are\nfollowed, they tend to sap the enjoyments of domestic life. And here it\nmay be observed, that of all the amusements, which go to the making up\nof the round of pleasures, the theatre has the greatest share in\ndiverting from the pleasures of home. For it particularly attracts and\nfascinates, both from the nature, and the diversity, of the amusements\nit contains. It is also always open, in the season, for resort. So that\nif private invitations to pleasure should not come in sufficiently\nnumerous, or should be broken off by the indisposition of the parties,\nwho give them, the theatre is always ready to supply any vacancy, that\nmay be occasioned in the round.\n\n\nSECT. VI.\n\n_Quakers conceive they can sanction no amusements, but such as could\nhave originated in christian minds--exhibitions of the drama could have\nhad, they believe, no such origin--early christians abandoned them in\ntheir conversion--arguments of the latter on this subject, as taken\nfrom Tertullian, Minucius Felix, Cyprian, Lactantius and others._\n\n\nThe Quakers conceive, as a christian society, that they ought to have\nnothing to do with any amusements, but such as christians could have\ninvented themselves, or such as christians could have sanctioned, by\nbecoming partakers of them. But they believe that dramatic exhibitions\nare of such a nature as men of a christian spirit could never have\ninvented or encouraged, and that, if the world were to begin again, and\nwere to be peopled by pure christians, these exhibitions could never be\ncalled into existence there.\n\nThis inference, the Quakers judge to be deducible from the nature of a\nchristian mind. A man, who is in the habit, at his leisure hours, of\nlooking into the vast and stupendous works of creation, of contemplating\nthe wisdom, goodness, and power of the creator, of trying to fathom the\ngreat and magnificent plans of his providence, who is in the habit of\nsurveying all mankind with the philosophy of revealed religion, of\ntracing, through the same unerring channel, the uses and objects of\ntheir existence, the design of their different ranks and situations,\nthe nature of their relative duties and the like, could never, in the\nopinion of the Quakers, have either any enjoyment, or be concerned in\nthe invention, of dramatic exhibitions. To a mind, in the habit of\ntaking such an elevated flight, it is supposed that every thing on the\nstage must look little, and childish, and out of place. How could a\nperson of such a mind be delighted with the musical note of a fiddler,\nthe attitude of a dancer, the impassioned grimace of an actor? How could\nthe intrigue, or the love-sick tale of the composition please him? or\nhow could he have imagined, that these could be the component parts of a\nchristian's joys?\n\nBut this inference is considered by the Quakers to be confirmed by the\npractice of the early christians. These generally had been Pagans. They\nhad of course Pagan dispositions. They followed Pagan amusements, and,\namong these, the exhibitions of the stage. But soon after their\nconversion, that is, when they had received new minds, and when they had\nexercised these on new and sublime subjects, or, on subjects similar to\nthose described, or, in other words, when they had received the\nregenerated spirit of christians, they left the amusements of the stage,\nnotwithstanding that, by this act of singularity in a sensual age, they\nwere likely to bring upon themselves the odium and the reproaches of\nthe world.\n\nBut when the early christians abandoned the theatre, they abandoned it,\nas the Quakers contend, not because, leaving Paganism they were to\nrelinquish all customs that were Pagan, but because they saw in their\nnew religion, or because they saw in this newness of their minds,\nreasons, which held out such amusements to be inadmissible, while they\nconsidered themselves in the light of christians. These reasons are\nsufficiently displayed by the writers of the second, third, and fourth\ncenturies; and as they are alluded to by the Quakers, though never\nquoted, I shall give them to the reader. He will judge by these, how far\nthe ancient coincide with the modern christians upon this subject; and\nhow for these arguments of antiquity are applicable to modern times.\n\nThe early christians, according to Tertullian, Menucius Felix, Cyprian,\nLactantius, and others, believed, that the \"motives for going to these\namusements were not of the purest sort. People went to them without any\nview of the improvement of their minds. The motive was either to see or\nto be seen.\"\n\nThey considered the manner of the drama as objectionable. They believed\n\"that he who was the author of truth, could never approve of that which\nwas false, and that he, who condemned hypocrisy, could never approve of\nhim, who personated the character of others; and that those therefore,\nwho pretended to be in love, or to be angry, or to grieve, when none of\nthose passions existed in their minds, were guilty of a kind of adultery\nin the eyes of the Supreme Being.\"\n\nThey considered their contents to be noxious. They \"looked upon them as\nconsistories of immorality. They affirmed that things were spoken there\nwhich it did not become christians to hear, and that things were shewn\nthere, which it did not become christians to see; and that, while these\nthings polluted those from whom they come, they polluted those in time,\nin whose sight and hearing they were shewn or spoken.\"\n\nThey believed also, \"that these things not only polluted the spectators,\nbut that the representations of certain characters upon the stage\npointed out to them the various roads to vice, and inclined them to\nbecome the persons, whom they had seen represented, or to be actors in\nreality of what they had seen feigned upon the stage.\"\n\nThey believed again, \"that dramatic exhibitions produced a frame of mind\ncontrary to that, which should exist in a christian's breast; that there\nwas nothing to be seen upon the stage, that could lead or encourage him\nto devotion; but, on the other hand, that the noise and fury of the\nplay-house, and the representations there, produced a state of\nexcitement, that disturbed the internal man. Whereas the spirit of a\nchristian ought to be calm, and quiet, and composed, to fit it for the\nduties of religion.\"\n\nThey believed also, \"that such promiscuous assemblages of men and women\nwere not favourable to virtue; for that the sparks of the passions were\nthere blown into a flame.\"\n\nTertullian, from whom some of the above opinions are taken, gives an\ninvitation to those who were fond of public spectacles, in nearly the\nfollowing terms.\n\nAre you fond, says he, of the scenic doctrine, or of theatrical sights\nand compositions? We have plenty of books for you to read. We can give\nyou works in prose and in verse. We can give you apothegms and hymns. We\ncannot to besure, give you fictitious plots or fables, but we can give\nyou truths. We cannot give you strophies, or the winding dances of the\nchorus, but we can give you simplicities, or plain and straightforward\npaths. Are you fond of seeing contests or trials for victory? You shall\nsee these also, and such as are not trivial, but important. You may see,\nin our christian example, chastity overcoming immodesty. You may see\nfaithfulness giving a death-wound to perfidy. You may see mercy getting\nthe better of cruelty. You may see modesty and delicacy of sentiment\novercoming impurity and impudence. These are the contests in which it\nbecomes us christians to be concerned, and where we ought to endeavour\nto receive the prize.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. V.... SECT. I.\n\n_Dancing forbidden--Greeks and Romans differed on this subject--motive\non which the Greeks encouraged dancing--motive on which the moderns\nencouraged it--way in which the Quakers view it--the arguments which\nthey use against it._\n\n\nAs the Quakers have thought it right to prohibit music, and\nstage-entertainments, to the society, so they have thought it proper to\nprohibit dancing, none of their children being allowed any instruction\nin the latter art.\n\nIt is remarkable that two of the most civilized nations, as well as two\nof the wisest men of antiquity, should have differed in their opinions\nwith respect to dancing. The Greeks considered it as a wise and an\nhonourable employment; and most of the nations therefore under that\nappellation inserted it into their system of education. The name of\ndancer was so honourable, as to be given to some of their gods. Statues\nare recorded to have been erected to good dancers. Socrates is said to\nhave admired dancing so much, as to have learnt it in his old age.\nDancing, on the other hand, was but little regarded at Rome. It was not\nadmitted even within the pale of accomplishments. It was considered at\nbest as a sorry and trivial employment. Cicero says,\n\n\"Nemo, fere saltat sobrius, nisi forte insanit, neque in solitudine,\nneque in convivio honesto.\" That is, \"No man dances, in private, or at\nany respectable entertainment, except he be drunk or mad.\"\n\nWe collect at least from the above statement, that people of old, who\nwere celebrated for their wisdom, came to very different conclusions\nwith respect to the propriety of the encouragement of this art.\n\nThose nations among the ancients, which encouraged dancing, did it upon\nthe principle, that it led to an agility of body, and a quickness of\nmotion, that would be useful in military evolutions and exploits. Hence\nswiftness of foot was considered to be an epithet, as honourable as any\nthat could be given to a warrior.\n\nThe moderns, on the other hand, encourage dancing, or at least defend it\nupon different principles. They consider it as producing a handsome\ncarriage of the body; as leading to a graceful and harmonious use of\nthe limbs; and as begetting an erectness of position, not more\nfavourable to the look of a person than to his health.\n\nThat dancing produces dispositions of this sort cannot be denied, though\ncertainly not to the extent which many have imagined. Painters, who\nstudy nature the most, and are the best judges of the appearance of the\nhuman frame, are of opinion, that modern dancing does not produce\nnatural figures or at least such as they would choose for their\nrespective compositions. The military exercise has quite as great a\nshare as dancing in the production of these dispositions. And there are\ncertainly men, who were never taught either the military exercise or\ndancing, whose deportment is harmonious and graceful.\n\nThe Quakers think it unnecessary to teach their children dancing, as an\naccomplishment, because they can walk, and carry their persons with\nsufficient ease and propriety without it.\n\nThey think it unnecessary also, because, however the practice of it may\nbe consistent with the sprightliness of youth, they could never sanction\nit in maturer age. They expect of the members of their society, that\nthey should abandon amusements, and substitute useful and dignified\npursuits, when they become men. But they cannot consider dancing but as\nan employment that is useless, and below the dignity of the\nchristian-character in persons, who have come to years of discretion. To\ninitiate therefore a youth of twelve or thirteen years of age into\ndancing, when he must relinquish it at twenty, would, in their opinion,\nbe a culpable waste of his time.\n\nThe Quakers, again, cannot view dancing abstractedly, for no person\nteaches or practises it abstractedly; but they are obliged to view it,\nin connection with other things. If they view it with its usual\naccompaniment of music, it would be inconsistent, they think, to\nencourage it, when they have banished music from their republic. If they\nview it as connected with an assemblage of persons, they must, they\nconceive, equally condemn it. And here it is in fact, that they\nprincipally level their arguments against it. They prohibit all members\nof their society from being present at balls, and assemblies; and they\nthink, if their youth are brought up in ignorance of the art of dancing,\nthat this ignorance will operate as one preventative at least against\nattendances at amusements of this nature.\n\nThe Quakers are as strict in their inquiry with respect to the\nattendances of any of their members at balls, as at theatrical\namusements. They consider balls and assemblies among the vain amusements\nof the world. They use arguments against these nearly similar to those\nwhich have been enumerated on the preceding subjects.\n\nThey consider them in the first place, as productive of a kind of\nfrivolous levity, and of thoughtlessness with respect to the important\nduties of life. They consider them, in the second place, as giving birth\nto vanity and pride. They consider them, again, as powerful in the\nexcitement of some of the malevolent passions. Hence they believe them\nto be injurious to the religious interests of man; for, by depriving him\nof complacency of mind, and by increasing the growth of his bad\nfeelings, they become impediments in the way of his improvement as a\nmoral being.\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_Arguments of the Quakers examined--three cases made out for the\ndetermination of a moral philosopher--case the first--case the\nsecond--case the third._\n\n\nI purpose to look into these arguments of the Quakers, and to see how far\nthey can be supported. I will suppose therefore a few cases to be made\nout, and to be handed, one by one, to some moral philosopher for his\ndecision. I will suppose this philosopher (that all prejudice of\neducation may be excluded) to have been ignorant of the nature of\ndancing, but that he had been made acquainted with it, in order that he\nmight be enabled to decide the point in question.\n\nSuppose then it was reported to this philosopher that, on a certain day,\na number of young persons of both sexes, who had casually met at a\nfriends house, instead of confining themselves to the room on a summers\nafternoon, had walked out upon the green; that a person present had\ninvited them suddenly to dance; that they had danced to the sound of\nmusical vibrations for an hour, and that after this they had returned to\nthe room, or that they had returned home. Would the philosopher be able\nto say in this case, that there was any thing in it, that incurred any\nof the culpable imputations, fixed upon dancing by the Quakers?\n\nHe could hardly; I think, make it out, that there could have been, in\nany part of the business, any opening for the charges in question.\nThere appears to have been no previous preparations of extravagant\ndressing; no premeditated design of setting off the person; no previous\nmethods of procuring admiration; no circumstance, in short, by which he\ncould reasonably suppose, that either pride or vanity could have been\ncalled into existence. The time also would appear to him to have been\ntoo short, and the circumstances too limited, to have given birth to\nimproper feelings. He would certainly see that a sort of levity would\nhave unavoidably arisen on the occasion, but his impartiality and\njustice would oblige him to make a distraction between the levity, that\nonly exhilarates, and the levity that corrupts, the heart. Nor could he\nconceive that the dancing for an hour only, and this totally unlooked\nfor, could stand much in the way of serious reflection for the future.\nIf he were desired to class this sudden dancing for an hour upon the\ngreen with any of the known pleasures of life, he would probably class\nit with an hours exercise in the fields, or with an hours game at play,\nor with an hours employment in some innocent recreation.\n\nBut suppose now, that a new case were opened to the philosopher. Suppose\nit were told him, that the same party had been so delighted with their\ndance upon the green, that they had resolved to meet once a month for\nthe purpose of dancing, and that they might not be prevented by bad\nweather, to meet in a public room; that they had met according to their\nresolution; that they had danced at their first meeting but for a short\ntime; but that at their meetings after, wards, they had got into the\nhabit of dancing from eight or nine at night till twelve or one in the\nmorning; that many of them now began to be unduly heated in the course\nof this long exercise; that some of them in consequence of the heat in\nthis crowded room, were now occasionally ready to faint; that it was now\nusual for some of them to complain the next morning of colds, others of\nhead-achs, others of relaxed nerves, and almost all of them of a general\nlassitude or weariness--what could the philosopher say in the present\ncase?\n\nThe philosopher would now probably think, that they acted unreasonably\nas human beings; that they turned night into day; and that, as if the\nevils of life were not sufficient in number, they converted hours, which\nmight have been spent calmly and comfortably at home, into hours of\nindisposition and of unpleasant feelings to themselves. But this is not\nto the point. Would he or would he not say, that the arguments of the\nQuakers applied in the present case? It certainly does not appear, from\nany thing that has yet transpired on this subject, that he could, with\nany shadow of reason, accuse the persons, meeting on this occasion, of\nvanity or pride, or that he could see from any of the occurrences, that\nhave been mentioned, how these evils could be produced. Neither has any\nthing yet come out, from which he could even imagine the sources of any\nimproper passions. He might think perhaps, that they might be vexed for\nhaving brought fatigue and lassitude upon themselves, but he could see\nno opening for serious anger to others, or for any of the feelings of\nmalevolence. Neither could he tell what occurrence to fix upon for the\nproduction of a frivolous levity. He would almost question, judging only\nfrom what has appeared in the last case, whether there might not be upon\nthe whole more pain than pleasure from these meetings, and whether\nthose, who on the day subsequent to these meetings felt themselves\nindisposed, and their whole nervous system unbraced, were not so near\nthe door of repentance, that serious thoughts would be more natural to\nthem than those of a lighter kind.\n\nBut let us suppose one other case to be opened to the philosopher. Let\nus now suppose it to be stated to him, that those who frequented these\nmonthly meetings, but particularly the females, had become habituated to\ntalk, for a day or two beforehand, of nothing but of how they should\ndress themselves, or of what they should wear on the occasion: that some\ntime had been spent in examining and canvassing the fashions; that the\nmilliner had been called in for this purpose; that the imagination had\nbeen racked in the study of the decoration of the person; that both on\nthe morning and the afternoon of the evening, on which they had publicly\nmet to dance, they had been solely employed in preparations for decking\nthemselves out; that they had been nearly two hours under one dresser\nonly, namely the hair-dresser; that frequently at intervals they had\nlooked at their own persons in the glass; that they had walked up and\ndown parading before it in admiration of their own appearance, and the\ncritical detection of any little fold in their dress, which might appear\nto be out of place, and in the adjustment of the same--what would the\nphilosopher say in this new case?\n\nHe certainly could not view the case with the same complacent\ncountenance as before. He would feel some symptoms of alarm. He would\nbegin to think that the truth of the Quaker-arguments was unfolding\nitself, and that what appeared to him to have been an innocent\namusement, at the first, might possibly be capable of being carried out\nof the bounds of innocence by such and similar accompaniments. He could\nnot conceive, if he had any accurate knowledge of the human heart, that\nsuch an extraordinary attention to dress and the decoration of the\nperson, or such a critical examination of these with a view of\nprocuring admiration, could produce any other fruits than conceit and\naffectation, or vanity and pride. Nor could he conceive that all these\npreparations, all this previous talk, all this previous consultation,\nabout the fashions, added to the employment itself of the decoration of\nthe person, could tend to any thing else than to degrade the mind, and\nto render it light and frivolous. He would be obliged to acknowledge\nalso, that minds, accustomed to take so deep an interest in the fashions\nand vanities of the world, would not only loath, but be disqualified for\nserious reflection. But if he were to acknowledge, that these\npreparations and accompaniments had on any one occasion a natural\ntendency to produce these effects, he could not but consider these\npreparations, if made once a month, as likely to become in time\nsystematic nurseries for frivolous and affected characters.\n\nHaving traced the subject up to a point, where it appears, that some of\nthe Quaker-arguments begin to bear, let us take leave of our\nphilosopher, and as we have advanced nearly to the ball-room door, let\nus enter into the room itself, and see if any circumstances occur there,\nwhich shall enable us to form a better judgment upon it.\n\n\nSECT. III.\n\n_Arguments of the Quakers still further examined--interior of the\nball-room displayed--view of the rise of many of the malevolent\npassions--these rise higher and are more painful, than they are\ngenerally imagined--hence it is probable that the spectators are better\npleased than those interested in these dances--conclusion of the\narguments of the Quakers on this subject._\n\n\nI am afraid I shall be thought more cynical than just, more prejudiced\nthan impartial, more given to censure than to praise, if in temples,\napparently dedicated to good humour, cheerfulness and mirth, I should\nsay that sources were to be found, from whence we could trace the rise\nof immoral passions. But human nature is alike in all places, and, if\ncircumstances should arise in the ball-room, which touch as it were the\nstrings of the passions, they will as naturally throw out their tone\nthere as in other places. Why should envy, jealousy, pride, malice,\nanger, or revenge, shut themselves out exclusively from these resorts,\nas if these were more than ordinarily sacred, or more than ordinary\nrepositories of human worth.\n\nIn examining the interior of a ball-room it must be confessed, that we\nshall certainly find circumstances occasionally arising, that give birth\nto feelings neither of a pleasant nor of a moral nature. It is not\nunusual, for instance, to discover among the females one that excels in\nthe beauty of her person, and another that excels in the elegance of her\ndress. The eyes of all are more than proportionally turned upon these\nfor the whole night. This little circumstance soon generates a variety\nof improper passions. It calls up vanity and conceit in the breasts of\nthese objects of admiration. It raises up envy and jealousy, and even\nanger in some of the rest. These become envious of the beauty of the\nformer, envious of their taste, envious of their cloathing, and, above\nall, jealous of the admiration bestowed upon them. In this evil state of\nmind one passion begets another; and instances have occurred, where some\nof these have felt displeased at the apparent coldness and indifference\nof their own partners, because they have appeared to turn their eyes\nmore upon the favourites of the night, than upon themselves.\n\nIn the same room, when the parties begin to take their places to dance;\nother little circumstances not infrequently occur, which give rise to\nother passions. Many aiming to be as near the top of the dance as\npossible, are disappointed of their places by others, who have just\nslept into them, dissatisfaction, and sometimes murmurs, follow. Each in\nhis own mind, supposes his claims and pretensions to the higher place to\nbe stronger on account of his money, his connections, his profession, or\nhis rank. Thus his own dispositions to pride are only the more nursed\nand fostered. Malice too is often engendered on the occasion; and though\nthe parties would not be allowed by the master of the ceremonies to\ndisturb the tranquillity of the room, animosities have sometimes sprung\nup between them, which have not been healed in a little time. I am aware\nthat in some large towns of the kingdom regulations are made with a view\nto the prevention of these evils, but it is in some only; and even where\nthey are made, though they prevent outward rude behaviour, they do not\nprevent inward dissatisfaction. Monied influence still feels itself\noften debased by a lower place.\n\nIf we were to examine the ball-room further, we should find new\ncircumstances arising to call out new and degrading passions. We should\nfind disappointment and discontent often throwing irritable matter upon\nthe mind. Men, fond of dancing, frequently find an over proportion of\nmen, and but few females in the room, and women, wishing to dance,\nsometimes find an over proportion of women, and but few men; so that\npartners are not to be had for all, and a number of each class must make\nup their minds to sit quietly, and to loose their diversion for the\nnight. Partners too are frequently dissatisfied with each other. One\nthinks his partner too old, another too ugly, another below him. Matched\noften in this unequal manner, they go down the dance in a sort of\ndudgeon, having no cordial disposition towards each other, and having\npersons before their eyes in the same room with whom they could have\ncordially danced. Nor are instances wanting where the pride of some has\nfixed upon the mediocrity of others, as a reason, why they should\nreluctantly lend them their hands, when falling in with them in the\ndance. The slight is soon perceived, and disgust arises in both parties.\n\nVarious other instances might be mentioned, where very improper passions\nare excited. I shall only observe, however, that these passions are\ngenerally stronger and give more uneasiness, and are called up to a\ngreater height, than might generally be imagined from such apparently\nslight causes. In many instances indeed they have led to such serious\nmisunderstandings, that they were only terminated by the duel.\n\nFrom this statement I may remark here, though my observation be not\nimmediately to the point, that there is not probably that portion of\nentertainment, or that substantial pleasure, winch people expected to\nfind at these monthly meetings. The little jealousies arising about\nprecedency, or about the admiration of one more than of another; the\nfalling in occasionally with disagreeable partners; the slights and\nomissions that are often thought to be purposely made; the head-achs,\ncolds, sicknesses, and lassitude afterwards, must all of them operate as\nso many drawbacks from this pleasure: and it is not unusual to hear\npersons, fond of such amusements, complaining afterwards that they had\nnot answered. There is therefore probably more pleasure in the\npreparations for such amusements, and in the previous talk about them,\nthan in the amusements themselves.\n\nIt is also probable that the greatest pleasure felt in the ball-room, is\nfelt by those, who get into it as spectators only. These receive\npleasure from the music, from the beat of the steps in unison with it,\nbut particularly from the idea that all, who join in the dance, are\nhappy. These considerations produce in the spectator cheerfulness and\nmirth; and these are continued to him more pure and unalloyed than in\nthe former case, because he can have no drawbacks from the admission\ninto his own breast of any of those uneasy, immoral passions, above\ndescribed.\n\nBut to return to the point in question. The reader has now had the\ndifferent cases laid before him as determined by the moral philosopher.\nHe has been conducted also through the interior of the ball-room. He\nwill have perceived therefore that the arguments of the Quakers have\ngradually unfolded themselves, and that they are more or less\nconspicuous, or more or less true, as dancing is viewed abstractedly, or\nin connection with the preparations and accompaniments, that may be\ninterwoven with it. If it be viewed in connection with these\npreparations and accompaniments, and if these should be found to be so\ninseparably connected with it, that they must invariably go together,\nwhich is supposed to be the case where it is introduced into the\nball-room, he will have no difficulty in pronouncing that, in this case,\nit is objectionable as a christian recreation. For it cannot be doubted\nthat it has an immediate tendency, in this case, to produce a frivolous\nlevity, to generate vanity and pride, and to call up passions of the\nmalevolent kind. Now in this point of view it is, that the Quakers\ngenerally consider dancing. They never view it, as I observed before,\nabstractedly, or solely by itself. They have therefore forbidden it to\ntheir society, believing it to be the duty of a Christian to be serious\nin his conversation and deportment; to afford an example of humility;\nand to be watchful and diligent in the subjugation of his evil\npassions.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VI.\n\n_Novels--novels forbidden--their fictitious nature no argument against\nthem--arguments of the Quakers are, that they produce an affectation\nknowledge--a romantic spirit--and a perverted morality--and that by\ncreating an indisposition towards other kinds of reading, they prevent\nmoral improvement and real delight of mind--hence novel-reading more\npernicious than many other amusements_.\n\n\nAmong the prohibitions, which the Quakers have adopted in their moral\neducation, as barriers against vice, or as preservatives of virtue, I\nshall consider that next, which relates to the perusal of improper\nbooks. George Fox seems to have forgotten nothing, that was connected\nwith the morals of the society. He was anxious for the purity of its\ncharacter, he seemed afraid of every wind that blew, lest it should\nbring some noxious vapour to defile it. And as those things which were\nspoken or represented, might corrupt the mind, so those which were\nwritten and printed, might equally corrupt it also. He recommended\ntherefore, that the youth of his newly formed society should abstain\nfrom the reading of romances. William Penn and others, expressed the\nsame sentiments on this subject. And the same opinion has been held by\nthe Quakers, as a body of christians, down to the present day. Hence\nnovels, as a particular species of romance, and as that which is\nconsidered as of the worst tendency, have been particularly marked for\nprohibition.\n\nSome Quakers have been inclined to think, that novels ought to be\nrejected on account of the fictitious nature of their contents. But this\nconsideration is, by no means, generally adopted by the society, as an\nargument against them. Nor would it be a sound argument, if it were. If\nnovels contain no evil within themselves, or have no evil tendency, the\nmere circumstance of the subject, names or characters being feigned,\nwill not stamp them as censurable. Such fiction will not be like the\nfiction of the drama, where men act and personate characters that are\nnot their own. Different men, in different ages of the world, have had\nrecourse to different modes of writing, for the promotion of virtue.\nSome have had recourse to allegories, others to fables. The fables of\nAesop, though a fiction from the beginning to the end, have been useful\nto many. But we have a peculiar instance of the use and innocence of\nfictitious descriptions in the sacred writings. For the author of the\nchristian religion made use of parables on many and weighty occasions.\nWe cannot therefore condemn fictitious biography, unless it condemn\nitself by becoming a destroyer of morals.\n\nThe arguments against novels, in which the Quakers agree as a body, are\ntaken from the pernicious influence they have upon the minds of those,\nwho read them.\n\nThe Quakers do not say, that all novels have this influence, but that\nthey have it generally. The great demand for novels, inconsequence of\nthe taste, which the world has shewn for this species of writing, has\ninduced persons of all descriptions, and of course many who have been\nbut ill qualified to write them. Hence, though some novels have appeared\nof considerable merit, the worthless have been greatly preponderant. The\ndemand also has occasioned foreign novels, of a complexion by no means\nsuited to the good sense and character of our country, to be translated\ninto our language. Hence a fresh weight has only been thrown into the\npreponderating scale. From these two causes it has happened, that the\ncontents of a great majority of our novels have been unfavourable to the\nimprovement of the moral character. Now when we consider this\ncircumstance, and when we consider likewise, that professed\nnovel-readers generally read all the compositions of this sort that come\ninto their way, that they wait for no selection, but that they devour\nthe good, the bad, and the indifferent alike, we shall see the reasons,\nwhich have induced the Quakers to believe, that the effect of this\nspecies of writing upon the mind has been generally pernicious.\n\nOne of the effects, which the Quakers consider to be produced by novels\nupon those who read them, is an affectation of knowledge, which leads\nthem to become forward and presumptuous. This effect is highly\ninjurious, for while it raises them unduly in their own estimation, it\nlowers them in that of the world. Nothing can be more disgusting, in the\nopinion of the Quakers, than to see persons assuming the authoritative\nappearance of men and women before their age or their talents can have\ngiven them any pretensions to do it.\n\nAnother effect is the following. The Quakers conceive that there is\namong professed novel readers a peculiar cast of mind. They observe in\nthem a romantic spirit, a sort of wonder-loving imagination, and a\ndisposition towards enthusiastic flights of the fancy, which to sober\npersons has the appearance of a temporary derangement. As the former\neffect must become injurious by producing forwardness, so this must\nbecome so by producing unsteadiness, of character.\n\nA third effect, which the Quakers find to be produced among this\ndescription of readers, is conspicuous in a perverted morality. They\nplace almost every value in feeling, and in the affectation of\nbenevolence. They consider these as the true and only sources of good.\nThey make these equivalent, to moral principle. And actions flowing from\nfeeling, though feeling itself is not always well founded, and\nsometimes runs into compassion even against justice, they class as moral\nduties arising from moral principles. They consider also too frequently\nthe laws of religion as barbarous restraints, and which their new\nnotions of civilized refinement may relax at will. And they do not\nhesitate, in consequence, to give a colour to some fashionable vices,\nwhich no christian painter would admit into any composition, which was\nhis own.\n\nTo this it may be added, that, believing their own knowledge to be\nsupreme, and their own system of morality to be the only enlightened\none, they fall often into scepticism, and pass easily from thence to\ninfidelity. Foreign novels, however, more than our own, have probably\ncontributed to the production of this latter effect.\n\nThese then are frequently the evils, and those which the Quakers insist\nupon, where persons devote their spare-time to the reading of novels,\nbut more particularly among females, who, on account of the greater\ndelicacy of their constitutions, are the more susceptible of such\nimpressions. These effects the Quakers consider as particularly\nfrightful, when they fall upon this sex. For an affectation of\nknowledge, or a forwardness of character, seems to be much more\ndisgusting among women than among men. It may be observed also, that an\nunsteady or romantic spirit or a wonder-loving or flighty imagination,\ncan never qualify a woman for domestic duties, or make her a sedate and\nprudent wife. Nor can a relaxed morality qualify her for the discharge\nof her duty as a parent in the religious education of her children.\n\nBut, independently of these, there is another evil, which the Quakers\nattach to novel-reading, of a nature too serious to be omitted in this\naccount. It is that those who are attached to this species of reading,\nbecome indisposed towards any other.\n\nThis indisposition arises from the peculiar construction of novels.\nTheir structure is similar to that of dramatic compositions. They\nexhibit characters to view. They have their heroes and heroines in the\nsame manner. They lay open the checkered incidents in the lives of\nthese. They interweave into their histories the powerful passion of\nlove. By animated language, and descriptions which glow with sympathy,\nthey rouse the sensibility of the reader, and fill his soul with\ninterest in the tale. They fascinate therefore in the same manner as\nplays. They produce also the same kind of [7] mental stimulus, or the\nsame powerful excitement of the mind. Hence it is that this\nindisposition is generated. For if other books contain neither\ncharacters, nor incidents, nor any of the high seasoning, or gross\nstimulants, which belong to novels they become insipid.\n\n[Footnote 7: I have been told by a physician of the first eminence, that\nmusic and novels have done more to produce the sickly countenances and\nnervous habits of our highly educated females, than any other causes\nthat can be assigned. The excess of stimulus on the mind from the\ninteresting and melting tales, that are peculiar to novels, affects the\norgans of the body, and relaxes the tone of the nerves, in the same\nmanner as the melting tones of music have been described to act upon the\nconstitution, after the sedentary employment, necessary for skill in\nthat science, has injured it.]\n\nIt is difficult to estimate the injury which is done to persons, by this\nlast mentioned effect of novel-reading upon the mind. For the contents\nof our best books consist usually of plain and sober narrative. Works of\nthis description give no extravagant representations of things, because\ntheir object is truth. They are found often without characters or\ncatastrophies, because these would be often unsuitable to the nature of\nthe subject of which they treat. They contain repellants rather than\nstimulants, because their design is the promotion of virtue. The\nnovel-reader therefore, by becoming indisposed towards these, excludes\nhimself from moral improvement, and deprives himself of the most\nsubstantial pleasure, which reading can produce. In vain do books on the\nstudy of nature unfold to him the treasures of the mineral or the\nvegetable world. He foregoes this addition to his knowledge, and this\ninnocent food for his mind. In vain do books on science lay open to him\nthe constitution and the laws of the motion of bodies. This constitution\nand these laws are still mysteries to him. In vain do books on religion\ndiscover to him the true path to happiness. He has still this path to\nseek. Neither, if he were to dip into works like these, but particularly\ninto those of the latter discription, could he enjoy them. This latter\nconsideration makes the reading of novels a more pernicious employment\nthan many others. For though there may be amusements, which may\nsometimes produce injurious effects to those, who partake of them, yet\nthese may be counteracted by the perusal of works of a moral tendency.\nThe effects, on the other hand, which are produced by the reading of\nnovels, seem to admit of no corrective or cure; for how, for instance,\nshall a perverted morality, which is considered to be one of them, be\nrectified, if the book which is to contain the advice for this purpose,\nbe so uninteresting, or insipid, that the persons in question have no\ndisposition to peruse it?\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VII-SECT. I.\n\n_Diversions of the field--diversions of the field forbidden--general\nthoughtlessness on this subject--sentiments of Thomson--sentiments of\nGeorge Fox--of Edward Burroughs--similar sentiments of Cowper--law of\nthe society on the subject._\n\n\n The diversions of the field are usually followed by people, without any\nconsideration, whether they are justifiable, either in the eye of\nmorality or of reason. Men receive them as the customs of their\nancestors, and they are therefore not likely to entertain doubts\nconcerning their propriety. The laws of the country also sanction them;\nfor we find regulations and qualifications on the subject. Those also\nwho attend these diversions, are so numerous, and their rank, and\nstation, and character, are often such, that they sanction them again by\ntheir example, so that few people think of making any inquiry, how far\nthey are allowable as pursuits.\n\nBut though this general thoughtlessness prevails upon this subject, and\nthough many have fallen into these diversions as into the common customs\nof the world, yet benevolent and religious individuals have not allowed\nthem to pass unnoticed, nor been backward in their censures and\nreproofs.\n\nIt has been matter of astonishment to some, how men, who have the powers\nof reason, can waste their time in galloping after dogs, in a wild and\ntumultuous manner, to the detriment often of their neighbours, and to\nthe hazard of their own lives; or how men, who are capable of high\nintellectual enjoyments, can derive pleasure, so as to join in shouts of\ntriumph, on account of the death of an harmless animal; or how men, who\nhave organic feelings, and who know that other living creatures have the\nsame, can make an amusement of that, which puts brute-animals to pain.\n\nGood poets have spoken the language of enlightened nature upon this\nsubject. Thomson in his Seasons, introduces the diversions of the field\nin the following manner.\n\n   \"Here the rude clamour of the sportsman's joy,\n   The gun fast-thund'ring, and the winded horn,\n   Would tempt the muse to sing the rural game.\"\n\nBut further on he observes,\n\n   \"These are not subjects for the peaceful muse;\n   Nor will she stain with such her spotless song;\n   Then most delighted, when she social sees\n   The whole mix'd animal-creation round.\n   Alive and happy; 'Tis not joy to her\n   This falsely cheerful barbarous game of death.\"\n\nCowper, in his task, in speaking in praise of the country, takes\noccasion to express his disapprobation of one of the diversions in\nquestion.\n\n   \"They love the country, and none else, who seek\n   For their own sake its silence and its shade,\n   Delights, which who would leave, that has a heart\n   Susceptible of pity, or a mind,\n   Cultur'd, and capable of sober thought,\n   For all the savage din of the swift pack\n   And clamours of the field? Detested sport\n   That owes its pleasures to another's pain,\n   That feeds upon the sobs and dying shrieks\n   Of harmless nature, dumb, but yet endued\n   With eloquence, that agonies inspire\n   Of silent tears, and heart-distending sighs!\n   Vain tears alas! and sighs, that never find\n   A corresponding tone in jovial souls!\"\n\nIn these sentiments of the poets the Quakers, as a religious body, have\nlong joined. George Fox specifically reprobated hunting and hawking,\nwhich were the field diversions of his own time. He had always shewn, as\nI stated in the introduction, a tender disposition to brute-animals, by\nreproving those, who had treated them improperly in his presence. He\nconsidered these diversions, as unworthy of the time and attention of\nmen, who ought to have much higher objects of pursuit. He believed also,\nthat real christians could never follow them; for a christian was a\nrenovated man, and a renovated man could not but know the works of\ncreation better, than to subject them to his abuse.\n\nEdward Burroughs, who lived at the same time, and was an able minister\nof the society, joined George Fox in his sentiments with respect to the\ntreatment of animals. He considered that man in the fall, or the\napostate man, had a vision so indistinct and vitiated that he could not\nsee the animals of the creation, as he ought, but that the man, who was\nrestored, or the spiritual christian, had a new and clear discernment\nconcerning them, which would oblige him to consider and treat them in a\nproper manner.\n\nThis idea of George Fox and of Edward Burroughs seems to have been\nadopted or patronized by the Poet Cowper.\n\n   \"Thus harmony, and family accord,\n   Were driven from Paradise; and in that hour\n   The seeds of cruelty, that since have swell'd\n   To such gigantic and enormous growth,\n   Were sown in human natures fruitful soil.\n   Hence date the persecution and the pain,\n   That man inflicts on all inferior kinds,\n   Regardless of their plaints. To make him sport,\n   To gratify the frenzy of his wrath,\n   Or his base gluttony, are causes good,\n   And just, in his account, why bird and beast\n   Should suffer torture--\"\n\nThus the Quakers censured these diversions from the first formation of\ntheir society, and laid down such moral principles with respect to the\ntreatment of animals, as were subversive of their continuance. These\nprinciples continued to actuate all true Quakers, who were their\nsuccessors; and they gave a proof, in their own conduct, that they were\ninfluenced by them, not only in treating the different animals under\ntheir care with tenderness, but in abstaining from all diversions in\nwhich their feelings could be hurt. The diversions however, of the\nfield, notwithstanding that this principle of the brute-creation had\nbeen long recognized, and that no person of approved character in the\nsociety followed them, began in time to be resorted to occasionally by\nthe young and thoughtless members, either out of curiosity, or with a\nview of trying them, as means of producing pleasure. These deviations,\nhowever from the true spirit of Quakerism became at length known. And\nthe Quakers, that no excuse might be left to any for engaging in such\npursuits again, came to a resolution in one of their yearly meetings,\ngiving advice upon the subject in the following words.\n\n[8]\"We clearly rank the practice of hunting and shooting for diversion\nwith vain sports; and we believe the awakened mind may see, that even\nthe leisure of those whom providence hath permitted to have a competence\nof worldly goods, is but ill filled up with these amusements. Therefore,\nbeing not only accountable for our substance, but also for our time, let\nour leisure be employed in serving our neighbour, and not in\ndistressing the creatures of God for our amusement.\"\n\n[Footnote 8: Book of Extracts.]\n\nI shall not take upon me to examine the different reasons upon which we\nfind the foundation of this law. I shall not enquire how far a man's\nsubstance, or rather his talent, is wasted or misapplied, in feeding a\nnumber of dogs in a costly manner, while the poor of the neighbourhood\nmay be starving, or how far the galloping after these is in the eye of\nchristianity a misapplication of a person's time. I shall adhere only to\nthat part of the argument, how far a person has a right to make a\n[9]pleasure of that, which occasions pain and death to the\nanimal-creation: and I shall shew in what manner the Quakers argue upon\nthis subject, and how they persuade themselves, that they have no right\nto pursue such diversions, but particularly when they consider\nthemselves as a body of professing christians.\n\n[Footnote 9: The Quakers and the poet Cowper likewise, in their laudable\nzeal for the happiness of the brute-creation, have given an improper\ndescription of the nature of the crime of these diversions. They have\nmade it to consist in a man's deriving pleasure from the sufferings of the\nanimals in question, whereas it should have been made to consist in his\nmaking a pleasure of a pursuit which puts them to pain. The most\nabandoned sportsman, it is to be presumed, never hunts them because\nhe enjoys their sufferings. His pleasure arises from considerations of\nanother nature.]\n\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_Diversions of the field judged first by the morality of the Old\nTestament--original charter to kill animals--condition annexed to\nit--sentiments of Cowper--rights and duties springing from this\ncharter--violation of it the violation of a moral law--diversions in\nquestion not allowable by this standard._\n\n\nThe Quakers usually try the lawfulness of field-diversions, which\ninclude hunting and shooting, by two standards, and first by the\nmorality of the old Testament.\n\nThey believe in common with other christians, that men have a right to\ntake away the lives of animals for their food. The great creator of the\nuniverse, to whom every thing that is in it belongs, gave to Noah and\nhis descendants a grant or charter for this purpose. In this charter no\nexception is made. Hence wild animals are included in it equally with\nthe tame. And hence a hare may as well be killed, if people have\noccasion for food, as a chicken or a lamb.\n\nThey believe also that, when the creator of the universe gave men\ndominion over the whole brute-creation, or delivered this creation into\ntheir hands, he intended them the right of destroying such animals, as\ncircumstances warranted them in supposing would become injurious to\nthemselves. The preservation of themselves, which is the first law of\nnature, and the preservation of other animals under their care, created\nthis new privilege.\n\nBut though men have the power given them over the lives of animals,\nthere is a condition in the same charter, that they shall take them with\nas little pain as possible to the creatures. If the death of animals is\nto be made serviceable to men, the least they can do in return is to\nmitigate their sufferings, while they expire. This obligation the\nSupreme Being imposed upon those, to whom he originally gave the\ncharter, by the command of not eating their flesh, while the life's\nblood was in it. The Jews obliged all their converts to religion, even\nthe proselytes of the gate, who were not considered to be so religious\nas the proselytes of the covenant, to observe what they called the\nseventh commandment of Noah, or that \"they should[10] not eat the member\nof any beast that was taken from it, while it was alive.\" This law\ntherefore of blood, whatever other objects it might have in view,\nenjoined that, while men were engaged in the distresing task of taking\naway the life of an animal, they should respect its feelings, by\nabstaining from torture, or all unnecessary pain.\n\n[Footnote 10: It seems almost impossible, that men could be so depraved,\nas to take flesh to eat from a poor animal, while alive, and yet from\nthe law enjoined to proselytes of the gate it is probable, that it was\nthe case. Bruce, whose travels into Abyssynia are gaining in credit,\nasserts that such customs obtained there. And the Harleian Miscellany,\nvol. 6. P. 126, in which is a modern account of Scotland, written in\n1670, states the same practice as having existed in our own island.]\n\n   [11]On Noah, and in him on all mankind\n   The Charter was conferr'd, by which we hold\n   The flesh of animals in fee, and claim\n   O'er all we feed on pow'r of life and death.\n   But read the instrument, and mark it well.\n   The oppression of a tyrannous control\n   Can find no warrant there. Feed then, and yield\n   Thanks for thy food. Carnivorous, through sin,\n   Feed on the slain; but spare the living brute.\n\n[Footnote 11: Cowper.]\n\nFrom this charter, and from the great condition annexed to it, the\nQuakers are of opinion that rights and duties have sprung up; rights on\nbehalf of animals, and duties on the part of men; and that a breach of\nthese duties, however often, or however thoughtlessly it may take place,\nis a breach of a moral law. For this charter did not relate to those\nanimals only, which lived in the particular country of the Jews, but to\nthose in all countries wherever Jews might exist. Nor was the observance\nof it confined to the Jews only, but it was to extend to the Proselytes\nof the covenant and the gate. Nor was the observance of it confined to\nthese Proselytes, but it was to extend to all nations; because all\nanimals of the same species are in all countries organized alike, and\nhave all similar feelings; and because all animals of every kind are\nsusceptible of pain.\n\nIn trying the lawfulness of the diversions of the field, as the Quakers\ndo by this charter, and the great condition that is annexed to it, I\npurpose, in order to save time, to confine myself to hunting, for this\nwill appear to be the most objectionable, if examined in this manner.\n\nIt must be obvious then, that hunting, even in the case of hares, is\nseldom followed for the purposes of food. It is uncertain in the first\nplace, whether in the course of the chase they can be preserved whole\nwhen they are taken, so as to be fit to be eaten. And, in the second, it\nmay be observed, that we may see fifty horsemen after a pack of hounds,\nno one of whom has any property in the pack, nor of course any right to\nthe prey. These cannot even pretend, that their object is food, either\nfor themselves or others.\n\nNeither is hunting, where foxes are the objects in view, pursued upon\nthe principle of the destruction of noxious animals. For it may be\nobserved, that rewards are frequently offered to those, who will procure\nthem for the chase: that large woods or covers are frequently allotted\nthem, that they may breed, and perpetuate their species for the same\npurposes, and that a poor man in the neighbourhood of a foxhunter, would\nbe sure to experience his displeasure, if he were caught in the\ndestruction of any of these animals.\n\nWith respect to the mode of destroying them in either of these cases, it\nis not as expeditious, as it might be made by other means. It is on the\nother hand, peculiarly cruel. A poor animal is followed, not for\nminutes, but frequently for an hour, and sometimes for hours, in pain\nand agony. Its sufferings begin with its first fear. Under this fear,\nperpetually accompanying it, it flies from the noise of horses, and\nhorsemen, and the cries of dogs. It pants for breath, till the panting\nbecomes difficult and painful. It becomes wearied even to misery, yet\ndares not rest. And under a complication of these sufferings, it is at\nlength overtaken, and often literally torn to pieces by its pursuers.\n\nHunting therefore does not appear, in the opinion of the Quakers, to be\nfollowed for any of those purposes, which alone, according to the\noriginal charter, give mankind a right over the lives of brutes. It is\nneither followed for food, nor for prevention of injury to man, or to\nthe creatures belonging to him. Neither is life taken away by means of\nit, as mercifully as it ought to be, according to the meaning of the[12]\ngreat condition. But if hunting be not justifiable, when examined upon\nthese principles, it can never be justifiable in the opinion of the\nQuakers, when it is followed on the principle of pleasure, all\ndestruction of animal-life upon this last principle, must come within\nthe charge of wanton cruelty, and be considered as a violation of a\nmoral law.\n\n[Footnote 12: The netting of animals for food, is perfectly\nunobjectionable upon these principles.]\n\n\nSECT. III.\n\n_Diversions of the field judged by the morality of the\nNew-Testament--the renovated man or christian has a clearer knowledge of\ncreation and of its uses--he views animals as the creatures of\nGod--hence he finds animals to have rights independently of any written\nlaw--he collects again new rights from the benevolence of his new\nfeelings--and new rights again from the written word of revelation._\n\n\nThe Quakers try the lawfulness of these diversions again by the morality\nof the New-Testament They adopt, in the first place, upon this occasion,\nthe idea of George Fox and of Edward Burroughs, which has been already\nstated; and they follow it up in the manner which I shall now explain.\n\nThey believe that a man under the new covenant, or one who is really a\nchristian, is a renovated man. As long as Adam preserved his primeval\ninnocence, or continued in the image of his Maker, his spiritual vision\nwas clear. When he lost this image, it became dim, short, and confused.\nThis is the case, the Quakers believe, with every apostate or wicked\nman. He sees through a vitiated medium. He sees of course nothing of the\nharmony of the creation. He has but a confused knowledge of the natures\nand ends of things. These natures and these ends he never examines as he\nought, but in the confusion of his moral vision, he abuses and perverts\nthem. Hence it generally happens, that an apostate man is cruel to his\nbrute. But in proportion as he is restored to the divine image, or\nbecomes as Adam was before he fell, or in proportion as he exchanges\nearthly for spiritual views, he sees all things through a clearer\nmedium. It is then, the Quakers believe, that the creation is open to\nhim, and that he finds his creator has made nothing in vain. It is then\nthat he knows the natures of things; that he estimates their uses and\ntheir ends, and that he will never stretch these beyond their proper\nbounds. Beholding animals in this sublime light, he will appreciate\ntheir strength, their capacities, and their feelings; and he will never\nuse them but for the purposes intended by providence. It is then that\nthe creation will delight him. It is then that he will find a growing\nlove to the animated objects of it. And this knowledge of their natures,\nand this love of them, will oblige him to treat them with tenderness and\nrespect. Hence all animals will have a security in the breast of every\nchristian or renovated man against oppression or abuse. He will never\ndestroy them wantonly, nor put them to unnecessary pain. Now the Quakers\nare of opinion, that every person, who professes christianity, ought to\nview things as the man, who is renovated, would view them, and that it\nbecomes them therefore in particular, as a body of highly professing\nchristians, to view them in the same manner. Hence they uniformly look\nupon animals, not as brute-machines, to be used at discretion, but as\nthe creatures of God, of whose existence the use and intention ought\nalways to be considered, and to whom duties arise out of this spiritual\nfeeling, independently of any written law in the Old-Testament, or any\ngrant or charter, by which their happiness might be secured.\n\nThe Quakers therefore, viewing animals in this light, believe that they\nare bound to treat them accordingly. Hence the instigation of two horses\nby whips and spurs for a trial of speed, in consequence of a monied\nstake, is considered by the Quakers to be criminal. The horse was made\nfor the use of man, to carry his body and to transport his burdens; but\nhe was never made to engage in painful conflicts with other horses on\naccount of the avarice of his owner. Hence the pitting together of two\ncocks for a trial of victory is considered as equally criminal. For the\ncock, whatever may be his destined object among the winged creation, has\nbeen long useful to man in awakening him from unseasonable slumber, and\nin sounding to him the approach of day. But it was never intended, that\nhe should be employed to the injury and destruction of himself, or to\nthe injury and destruction of his own species. In the same manner the\nQuakers condemn the hunting of animals, except on the plea of necessity,\nor that they cannot be destroyed, if their death be required, in any\nother way. For whatever may be their several uses, or the several ends\nof their existence in creation, they were never created to be so used by\nman, that they should suffer, and this entirely for his sport. Whoever\nputs animals to cruel and unnatural uses, disturbs, in the opinion of\nthe Quakers, the harmony of the creation, and offends God.\n\nThe Quakers in the second place, are of opinion that the renovated man\nmust have, in his own benevolent spirit, such an exalted sense of the\nbenevolent spirit of the Creator, as to believe, that he never\nconstituted any part of animated nature, without assigning it its proper\nshare of happiness during the natural time of its existence, or that it\nwas to have its moment, its hour, its day, or its year of pleasure. And,\nif this be the case, he must believe also, that any interruption of its\ntranquillity, without the plea of necessity, must be an innovation of\nits rights as a living being.\n\nThe Quakers believe also, that the renovated man, who loves all the\nworks of the creator, will carry every divine law, which has been\nrevealed to him, as far as it is possible to be carried on account of a\nsimilarity of natures through all animated creation, and particularly\nthat law, which forbids him to do to another, what he would dislike to\nbe done unto himself. Now this law is founded on the sense of bodily,\nand on the sense of the mental feelings. The mental feelings of men and\nbrutes, or the reason of man and the instinct of animals, are different.\nBut their bodily feelings are alike; and they are in their due\nproportions, susceptible of pain. The nature therefore of man and of\nanimals is alike in this particular. He can anticipate and know their\nfeelings by his own. He cannot therefore subject them to any action\nunnecessarily, if on account of a similar construction of his own\norgans, such an action would produce pain to himself. His own power of\nfeeling strongly commands sympathy to all that can feel: and that\ngeneral sympathy, which arises to a man, when he sees pain inflicted on\nthe person of any individual of his own species, will arise, in the\nopinion of the Quakers, to the renovated man, when he sees it inflicted\non the body of a brute.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VIII.\n\n_Objections started by philosophical moralists to the preceding system\nof education--this system a prohibitory one--prohibitions sometimes the\ncause of greater evil than they prevent--they may confuse morality--and\nbreak the spirit--they render the vicious more vicious--and are not to\nbe relied upon as effectual, because built on a fake foundation--ignorance\nno guardian of virtue--causes, not sub-causes, are to be contended against\n--no certain security but in knowledge and a love of virtue--prohibitions,\nwhere effectual, produce but a sluggish virtue._\n\n\nI have now stated the principal prohibitions, that are to be found in\nthe moral education of the Quakers, and I have annexed to these the\nvarious reasons, which the Quakers themselves give, why they were\nintroduced into their society. I have therefore finished this part of my\ntask, and the reader will expect me to proceed to the next subject. But\nas I am certain that many objections will be started here, I shall stop\nfor a few minutes to state, and to consider them.\n\nThe Quakers differ on the subject of moral education, very materially\nfrom the world, and indeed from those of the world, who having had a\nmore than ordinarily liberal education, may be supposed to have, in most\ncases, a more than ordinarily correct judgment. The Quaker system, as we\nhave seen, consists principally of specific prohibitions. These\nprohibitions again, are extended occasionally to things, which are not\nin themselves vicious. They are extended, again, to these, because it is\npossible that they may be made productive, of evil. And they are\nfounded apparently on the principle, that ignorance of such things\nsecures innocence, or that ignorance, in such cases, has the operation\nof a preventive of vice, or a preservative of virtue.\n\nPhilosophical moralists on the other hand, are friends to occasional\nindulgences. They see nothing inherently or necessarily mischievous,\neither in the theatre or in the concert-room, or in the ball-room, or in\nthe circulating library, or in many other places of resort. If a young\nfemale, say they, situated in a provincial town, were to see a play\nannually, would it not give her animation, and afford a spring to her\nheart? or if a youth were to see a play two or three times in the year,\nmight not his parents, if they were to accompany him, make it each time,\nby their judicious and moral remarks, subservient to the improvement of\nhis morals? neither do these moralists anticipate any danger by looking\nto distant prospects, where the things are innocent in themselves. And\nthey are of opinion, that all danger may be counteracted effectually,\nnot by prohibitory checks and guards, but by storing the mind with\nknowledge, and filling it with a love of virtue. The arguments\ntherefore, which these will advance against the system of the moral\neducation of the Quakers, may be seen in the following words.\n\n\"All prohibitions, they contend, should be avoided, as much as\npossible, in moral education; for prohibitions may often become the\ncause of greater immorality, than they were intended to prevent. The\nfable of the hen, whose very prohibition led her chickens to the fatal\nwell, has often been realized in life, there is a certain curiosity in\nhuman nature to look into things forbidden. If Quaker youth should have\nthe same desires in this respect as others, they cannot gratify them but\nat the expence of their virtue. If they wish for novels, for example,\nthey must get them clandestinely. If to go to the theatre, they must go\nin secret. But they must do more than this in the latter case, for as\nthey would be known by their dress, they must change it for that of\nanother person. Hence they may be made capable of intrigue, hypocrisy,\nand deceit.\"\n\n\"Prohibitions, again, they believe, except they be well founded, may\nconfound the notions of children on the subject of morality; for if they\nare forbidden to do what they see worthy and enlightened persons do,\nthey may never know where to fix the boundaries between vice and\nvirtue.\"\n\n\"Prohibitions, again, they consider, if made without an allowance of\nexceptions, as having a tendency to break the spirit of youth. Break a\nhorse in the usual way, and teach him to stop with the check of the\nreins, and you break him, and preserve his courage. But put him in a\nmill to break him, and you break his life and animation. Prohibitions\ntherefore may hinder elevated feeling, and may lead to poverty and\nsordidness of spirit.\"\n\n\"Prohibitions, again, they believe, if youth once depart from the right\nway, render them more vicious characters than common. This arises from\nthe abruptness or suddenness of transition. For having been shut up\nwithin narrow boundaries for a part of their lives, they go greater\nlengths, when once let loose, than others, who have not been equally\ncurbed and confined.\"\n\n\"But while they are of opinion, that prohibitions are likely to be thus\ninjurious to Quaker-youth, they are of opinion, that they are never to\nbe relied upon as effectual guardians of morality, because they consider\nthem as built upon false principles.\"\n\n\"They are founded, they conceive, on the principle, that ignorance is a\nsecurity for innocence, or that vice is so attractive, that we cannot\nresist it but by being kept out of the way. In the first case, they\ncontend that the position is false; for ignorant persons are of all\nothers the most likely, when they fall into temptations, to be seduced,\nand in the second, they contend that there is a distrust of divine\nprovidence in his moral government of the world.\"\n\n\"They are founded, again, they conceive, on false principles, inasmuch\nas the Quakers confound causes with sub-causes, or causes with\noccasions. If a person, for example, were to get over a hedge, and\nreceive a thorn in his hand, and die of the wound, this thorn would be\nonly the occasion, and not the cause of his death. The bad state in\nwhich his body must have been, to have made this wound fatal, would have\nbeen the original cause. In like manner neither the theatre, nor the\nball-room are the causes of the bad passions, that are to be found\nthere. All these passions must have existed in persons previously to\ntheir entrance into these places. Plays therefore, or novels, or public\ndances, are only the sub-causes, or the occasions of calling forth the\npassions in question. The real cause is in the infected state of the\nmind, or in the want of knowledge, or in the want of a love of virtue.\"\n\n\"Prohibitions therefore, though they may become partial checks of vice,\ncan never, they believe, be relied upon as effectual guardians of\nvirtue. Bars and bolts seldom prevent thieves from robbing a house. But\nif armed men should be in it, who would venture to enter in? In the same\nmanner the mind of man should be armed or prepared. It should be so\nfurnished, that men should be able to wander through a vicious world,\namidst all its foibles and its follies, and pass uncontaminated by them.\nIt should have that tone given to it, which should hinder all\ncircumstances from becoming occasions. But this can never be done by\nlocking up the heart to keep vice out of it, but by filling it with\nknowledge and with a love of virtue.\"\n\n\"That this is the only method to be relied upon in moral education, they\nconceive may be shewn by considering upon whom the pernicious effects of\nthe theatre, or of the ball-room, or of the circulating library,\nprincipally fall. Do they not fall principally upon those, who have\nnever had a dignified education. 'Empty noddles, it is said, are fond of\nplayhouses,' and the converse, is true, that persons, whose\nunderstandings have been enriched, and whose tastes have been corrected,\nfind all such recreations tiresome. At least they find so much to\ndisgust them, that what they approve does not make them adequate amends.\nThis is the case also with respect to novels. These do harm principally\nto barren minds. They do harm to those who have no proper employment for\ntheir time, or to those, who in the manners, conversation, and conduct,\nof their parents, or others with whom they associate, have no examples\nof pure thinking, or of pure living, or of a pure taste. Those, on the\nother hand, who have been taught to love good books, will never run\nafter, or be affected by, bad ones. And the same mode of reasoning, they\nconceive, is applicable to other cases. For if people are taught to\nlove virtue for virtue's sake, and, in like manner, to hate what is\nunworthy, because they have a genuine and living knowledge of its\nunworthiness, neither the ball, nor concert-room, nor the theatre, nor\nthe circulating library, nor the diversions of the field, will have\ncharms enough to seduce them, or to injure the morality of their minds.\"\n\nTo sum up the whole. The prohibitions of the Quakers, in the first\nplace, may become injurious, in the opinion of these philosophical\nmoralists, by occasioning greater evils, than they were intended to\nprevent. They can never, in the second place, be relied upon as\neffectual guardians of virtue, because they consider them to be founded\non false principles. And if at any time they can believe them to be\neffectual in the office assigned them, they believe them to to be\nproductive only of a cold or a sluggish virtue.\n\n\n\n\nMORAL EDUCATION.\n\nCHAP. IX.... SECT. I.\n\n_Reply of the Quakers to these objections--they say first, that they are\nto be guided by revelation in the education of their children--and that\nthe education, which they adopt, is sanctioned by revelation, and by the\npractice of the early Christians--they maintain again, that the\nobjections are not applicable to them, for they pre-suppose\ncircumstances concerning them, which are not true--they allow the system\nof filling the mind with virtue to be the most desirable--but they\nmaintain that it cannot be acted upon abstractedly--and, that if it\ncould, it would be as dangerous, as the philosophical moralists make\ntheir system of the prohibitions._\n\n\nTo these objections the Quakers would make the following reply.\n\nThey do not look up either to their own imaginations, or to the\nimaginations of others, for any rule in the education of their children.\nAs a christian society, they conceive themselves bound to be guided by\nrevelation, and by revelation only, while it has any injunctions to\noffer, which relate to this subject.\n\nIn adverting to the Old Testament, they find that no less than nine, out\nof the ten commandments of Moses, are of a prohibitory nature, and, in\nadverting to the new, that many of the doctrines of Jesus Christ and the\napostles are delivered in the form of prohibitions. They believe that\nrevealed religion prohibits them from following all those pursuits,\nwhich the objections notice; for though there is no specific prohibition\nof each, yet there is an implied one in the spirit of christianity,\nViolent excitements of the passions on sensual subjects must be\nunfavourable to religious advancement. Worldly pleasures must hinder\nthose, which are spiritual. Impure words and spectacles must affect\nmorals. Not only evil is to be avoided, but even the appearance of evil.\nWhile therefore these sentiments are acknowledged by christianity, it is\nto be presumed that the customs, which the objections notice, are to be\navoided in christian education. And as the Quakers consider these to be\nforbidden to themselves, they feel themselves obliged to forbid them to\nothers. And, in these parcticular prohibitions, they consider themselves\nas sanctioned both by the writings and the practice of the early\nchristians.\n\nIn looking at the objections, which have been made with a view of\nreplying to them, they would observe first, that these objections do not\nseem to apply to them as a society, because they presuppose\ncircumstances concerning them, which are not true. They presuppose\nfirst, that their moral education is founded on prohibitions solely,\nwhereas they endeavour both by the communication of positive precepts,\nand by their example, to fill the minds of their children with a love of\nvirtue. They presuppose again, that they are to mix with the world, and\nto follow the fashions of the world, in which case a moderate knowledge\nof the latter, with suitable advice when they are followed, is\nconsidered as enabling them to pass through life with less danger than\nthe prohibition of the same, whereas they mix but little with others of\nother denominations. They abjure the world, that they may not imbibe its\nspirit. And here they would observe, that the knowledge, which is\nrecommended to be obtained, by going through perilous customs is not\nnecessary for them as a society. For living much at home, and mixing\nalmost solely with one another, they consider their education as\nsufficient for their wants.\n\nIf the Quakers could view the two different systems abstractedly, that\nof filling the heart with virtue, and that of shutting it out from a\nknowledge of vice, so that they could be acted upon separately, and so\nthat the first of the two were practicable, and practicable without\nhaving to go through scenes that were dangerous to virtue, they would\nhave no hesitation in giving the preference to the former; because if\nmen could be taught to love virtue for virtue's sake, all the trouble of\nprohibitions would be unnecessary.\n\nBut the Quakers would conceive that the system of filling the mind with\nvirtue, if acted upon abstractedly, or by itself, would be impracticable\nwith respect to youth. To make it practicable children must be born with\nthe full grown intellect and experience of men. They must have an innate\nknowledge of all the tendencies, the bearings, the relations, and the\neffects of virtue and vice. They must be also strong enough to look\ntemptation in the face; whereas youth have no such knowledge, or\nexperience, or strength, or power.\n\nThey would consider also the system of filling the mind with virtue, as\nimpossible, if attempted abstractedly or alone, because it is not in\nhuman wisdom to devise a method of inspiring it with this essence,\nwithout first teaching it to abstain from vice. It is impossible, they\nwould say, for a man to be virtuous, or to be in love with virtue,\nexcept he were to lay aside his vicious practices. The first step to\nvirtue, according both to the Heathen and the Christian philosophy, is\nto abstain from vice. We are to cease to do evil, and to learn to do\nwell. This is the process recommended. Hence prohibitions are necessary.\nHence sub-causes as well as causes are to be attacked. Hence abstinence\nfrom vice is a Christian, though it may be a sluggish, virtue. Hence\ninnocence is to be aimed at by an ignorance of vice. And hence we must\nprohibit all evil, if we wish for the assistance of the moral governor\nof the world.\n\nBut if the system of filling the heart with virtue were ever practicable\nof itself, that is, without the aid of prohibitions, yet if it be to be\nfollowed by allowing young persons to pass through the various\namusements of the world which the Quakers prohibit, and by giving them\nmoral advice at the same time, they would be of opinion, that more\ndanger would accrue to their morality, than any, which the prohibitions\ncould produce. The prohibitions, as far as they have a tendency to curb\nthe spirit, would not be injurious, in the opinion of the Quakers,\nbecause it is their plan in education to produce humble, and passive,\nand obedient characters; and because spirit, or highmindedness, or high\nfeeling, is no trait in the Christian character. As far as the\ncuriosity, which is natural to man, would instigate him to look into\nthings forbidden, which he could not always do in the particular\nsituation of the Quakers, without the admission of intrigue, or\nhypocrisy, or deceit, prohibitions would be to be considered as evils,\nthough they would always be necessary evils. But the Quakers would\napprehend that the same number of youth would not be lost by passing\nthrough the ordeal of prohibitory education, as through the ordeal of\nthe system, which attempts to fill the mind with virtue, by inuring it\nto scenes, which may be dangerous to its morality; for if tastes are to\nbe cultivated, and knowledge to be had, by adopting the amusements\nprohibited by the Quakers, many would be lost, though some might be\nadvanced to virtue. For parents cannot always accompany their children\nto such places, nor, if they could, can they prevent these from\nfascinating. If these should fascinate, they will suggest repetitions.\nBut frequent repetitions, where you accustom youth to see, to hear, and\nto think, what ought never to be heard, seen, or thought of by\nChristians, cannot but have the effect of tinging the character in time.\nThis mode of education would be considered by the Quakers as answering\nto that of \"dear bought experience.\" A person may come to see the beauty\nof virtue, when his constitution has been shattered by vice. But many\nwill perish in the midst of so hazardous a trial.[13]\n\n[Footnote 13: Though no attempt is to be made to obtain knowledge,\naccording to the Christian system, through the medium of customs which\nmay be of immoral tendency, yet it does not follow that knowledge,\nproperly obtained, is not a powerful guardian of virtue. This important\nsubject may probably be resumed in a future volume.]\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_Quakers contend, by may of farther reply to the objections, that their\neducation has been practically or experimentally beneficial--two facts\nin behalf of this assertion--the first is that young Quakers get earlier\ninto the wisdom of life than many others--the second, that there are few\ndisorderly persons in the society--error corrected, that the Quakers\nturn persons out of the society, as soon as they begin to be vicious,\nthat it may be rescued from the disgrace of a bad character._\n\n\nThe answers, which have hitherto been given to the reader, may be\nconsidered as the statement of theory against theory. But the Quakers,\nwould say farther upon this subject, that they have educated upon these\nprinciples for a hundred and fifty years, and that, where they have been\nattended to, their effects have been uniformly beneficial. They would be\nfearful therefore of departing from a path, which they conceive their\nown experience and that of their ancestors has shewn them to be safe,\nand which after all their inquiries, they believe to be that which is\npointed out to them by the Christian religion.\n\nI shall not attempt to follow up this practical argument by any history\nof the lives of the Quakers, but shall content myself with one or two\nsimple facts, which appear to me to be materially to the point.\n\nIn the first place I may observe that it is an old saying, that it is\ndifficult to put old heads on young shoulders. The Quakers, however, do\nthis more effectually than any other people. It has often been observed\nthat a Quaker boy has an unnatural appearance. This idea has arisen from\nhis dress and his sedateness, which together have produced an\nappearance of age above the youth in his countenance, or the stature of\nhis person. This, however, is confessing, in some degree, in the case\nbefore us, that the discretion of age has appeared upon youthful\nshoulders. It is certainly an undeniable fact, that the youth of this\nsociety, generally speaking, get earlier into a knowledge of just\nsentiments, or into a knowledge of human nature, or into a knowledge of\nthe true wisdom of life, than those of the world at large. I have often\nbeen surprised to hear young Quakers talk of the folly and vanity of\npursuits, in which persons older than themselves were then embarking for\nthe purposes of pleasure, and which the same persons have afterwards\nfound to have been the pursuits of uneasiness and pain.\n\nLet us stop for a while, just to look at the situation of some of those\nyoung persons, who, in consequence of a different education, are\nintroduced to the pleasures of the world, as to those, which are to\nconstitute their happiness. We see them running eagerly first after this\nobject, then after that. One man says to himself \"this will constitute\nmy pleasure.\" He follows it. He finds it vanity and vexation of spirit.\nHe says again \"I have found my self deceived. I now see my happiness in\nother pleasures, and not in those where I fancied it.\" He follows these.\nHe becomes sickened. He finds the result different from his\nexpectations. He pursues pleasure, but pleasure is not there.\n\n   [14]\"They are lost\n   In chase of fancied happiness, still woo'd,\n   And never won. Dream after dream ensues;\n   And still they dream, that they shall still succeed\n   And still are disappointed.\"\n\n[Footnote 14: Cowper.]\n\nThus after having wasted a considerable portion of his time, he is\ndriven at last by positive experience into the truth of those maxims,\nwhich philosophy and religion have established, and in the pursuit of\nwhich alone he now sees that true happiness is to be found. Thus, in\nconsequence of his education, he looses two thirds of his time in tedious\nand unprofitable, if not in baneful pursuits. The young Quaker, on the\nother hand, comes, by means of his education, to the same maxims of\nphilosophy and religion, as the foundation of his happiness, at a very\nearly period of life, and therefore saves the time, and preserves the\nconstitution which the other has been wasting for want of this early\nknowledge. I know of no fact more striking, or more true in the\nQuaker-history, than this, namely, that the young Quaker, who is educated\nas a Quaker, gets such a knowledge of human nature, and of the paths to\nwisdom and happiness, at an early age, that, though he is known to be a\nyoung mariner by the youth displayed in his countenance, he is enabled to\nconduct his bark through the dangerous rocks and shoals of life, with\ngreater safety than many others, who have been longer on the ocean of this\nprobationary world.\n\nI may observe again, as the second fact, that it is not unusual to hear\npersons say, that you seldom see a disorderly Quaker, or, that a\nQuaker-prostitute or a Quaker criminal is unknown. These declarations,\nfrequently and openly made, shew at least that there is an opinion among\nthe world at large, that the Quakers are a moral people.\n\nThe mention of this last fact leads me to the notice, and the\ncorrection, of an error, which I have found to have been taken up by\nindividuals. It is said by these that the Quakers are very wary with\nrespect to their disorderly members, for that when any of them behave\nill, they are expelled the society in order to rescue it from the\ndisgrace of a bad character. Thus if a Quaker woman were discovered to\nbe a prostitute, or a Quaker man to be taken up for a criminal offence,\nno disgrace could attach to this society as it would to others; for if,\nin the course of a week, after a discovery had been made of their\nseveral offences, any person were to state that two Quaker members had\nbecome infamous, it would be retorted upon him, that they were not\nmembers of the society.\n\nIt will be proper to observe upon the subject of this error, that it is\nnot so probable that the Quakers would disown these, after the discovery\nof their infamy, to get rid of any stain upon the character of the\nsociety, as it is that these persons, long before the facts could be\nknown, had been both admonished and disowned. For there is great truth\nin the old maxim \"Nemo fecit repente 'turpissimus;\" or \"no man was ever\nall at once a rogue.\"\n\nSo in the case of these persons, as of all others, they must have been\nvicious by degrees: they must have shewn symptoms of some deviations\nfrom rectitude, before the measure of their iniquity could have been\ncompleted. But by the constitution of Quakerism, as will appear soon, no\nperson of the society can be found erring even for the first time,\nwithout being liable to be privately admonished. These admonitions may\nbe repeated for weeks, or for months, or even for years, before the\nsubjects of them are pronounced so incorrigible as to be disowned. There\nis great reason therefore to presume, in the case before us, though the\noffenders in question would have undoubtedly been disowned by the\nQuakers, after they were known to be such, yet that they had been\ndisowned long before their offences had been made public.\n\nUpon the whole it may be allowed, that young Quakers arrive at the\nknowledge of just sentiments, or at the true wisdom of life earlier than\nthose, who are inured to the fashions of the world; and it may be\nallowed also that the Quakers, as a body, are a moral people. Now these\neffects will generally be considered as the result of education; and\nthough the prohibitions of the Quakers may not be considered as the only\ninstruments of producing these effects, yet they must be allowed to be\ncomponent parts of the system, which produces them.\n\n\n\n\nDISCIPLINE OF THE QUAKERS.\n\n\nCHAP. I.... SECT. I.\n\n_Discipline of two kinds--as it relates to the regulation of the\ninternal affairs of the society--or to the cognizance of immoral\nconduct--difficulty of procuring obedience to moral precepts--this\nattempted to be obviated by George Fox--outlines of his system for this\npurpose--additions made to his system since his time--objections to the\nsystem considered--this system, or the discipline of the Quakers, as far\nas this branch of it is concerned, the great foundation-stone on which\ntheir moral education is supported._\n\n\nThe discipline of the Quakers is divisible into two parts. The first may\ncomprehend the regulation of the internal affairs of the society, such\nas the management of the poor belonging to it, the granting of\ncertificates of removal to its members, the hearing of their appeals\nupon various occasions, the taking cognizance of their proposals of\nmarriage, and the like. The second may comprehend the notice or\nobservance of the moral conduct of individuals, with a view of\npreserving the rules, which the Quakers have thought it their duty to\nmake, and the testimonies which they have thought it their duty to bear,\nas a Christian people. It is to the latter part of the discipline that I\nshall principally confine myself in the ensuing part of my work.\n\nNothing is more true than that, when men err in their moral practice, it\nis not for want of good precepts or of wholesome advice. There are few\nbooks from which we cannot collect some moral truths; and few men so\nblind, as not to be able to point out to us the boundaries of moral\ngood. The pages of revelation have been long unfolded to our view, and\ndiffusively spread among us. We have had the advantage too of having\ntheir contents frequently and publicly repeated into our ears. And yet,\nknowing what is right, we cannot pursue it. We go off, on the other\nhand, against our better knowledge, into the road to evil. Now, it was\nthe opinion of George Fox, that something might be done to counteract\nthis infirmity of human nature, or to make a man keep up to the precepts\nwhich he believed to have been divinely inspired, or, in other words,\nthat a system of Discipline might be devised, for regulating, exciting,\nand preserving the conduct of a Christian.\n\nThis system he at length completed, and, as he believed, with the divine\naid, and introduced it into the society with the approbation of those\nwho belonged to it.\n\nThe great principle, upon which he founded it, was, that every christian\nwas bound to watch over another for his good. This principle included\ntwo ideas. First, that vigilance over the moral conduct of individuals\nwas a christian duty. Secondly, that any interference with persons, who\nmight err, was solely for their good. Their reformation was to be the\nonly object in view. Hence religious advice was necessary. Hence it was\nto be administered with tenderness and patience. Hence nothing was to be\nleft undone, while there was a hope that any thing could be done, for\ntheir spiritual welfare.\n\nFrom this view of the subject he enjoined it to all the members of his\nnewly formed society, to be watchful over the conduct of one another,\nand not to hesitate to step in for the recovery of those, whom they\nmight discover to be overtaken with a fault.\n\nHe enjoined it to them again, that they should follow the order\nrecommended by Jesus Christ upon such occasions.[15] \"If thy brother\nshall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and\nhim alone. If he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother. But if\nhe will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the\nmouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established. And if he\nshall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church; but, if he neglect\nto hear the church, let him be unto thee as a Heathen-man or a\nPublican.\"\n\n[Footnote 15: Matt. 18. 15, 16, 17.]\n\nFor the carrying of this system into execution in the order thus\nrecommended, he appointed Courts, or meetings for dicipline, as the\nQuakers call them, with the approbation of the society, where the case\nof the disorderly should be considered, if it should be brought to the\ncognizance of the church; and where a record should be kept of the\nproceedings of the society respecting it. In these courts or meetings\nthe poor were to have an equal voice with the rich.--There was to be no\ndistinction but in favour of religious worth; And here it is to be\nremarked, that he was so desirous, that the most righteous judgment\nshould be pronounced upon any offender, that he abandoned the usual mode\nof decision, in general so highly valued, by a majority, of voices, and\nrecommended the decision to be made according to the apparent will of\nthe virtuous, who might be present.--And as expulsion from membership\nwith the church was to be considered as the heaviest punishment, which\nthe Quakers, as a religious body, could inflict, he gave the offender an\nopportunity of appealing to meetings, different from those in which the\nsentence had been pronounced against him, and where the decisive voices\nwere again to be collected from the preponderant weight of religious\ncharacter.\n\nHe introduced also into his system of dicipline privileges in favour of\nwomen, which marked his sense of justice, and the strength and\nliberality of his mind. The men he considered undoubtedly as the heads\nof the church, and from whom all laws concerning it ought to issue. But\nhe did not deny women on that account any power, which he thought it\nwould be proper for them to hold. He believed them to be capable of\ngreat usefulness, and therefore admitted them to the honour of being, in\nhis own society, of nearly equal importance with the men.--In the\ngeneral duty, imposed upon members, of watching over one another, he\nlaid it upon the women, to be particularly careful in observing the\nmorals of those of then own sex. He gave them also meetings for\ndicipline of their own, with the power, of recording their own\ntransactions, so that women were to act among courts or meetings of\nwomen, as men among those of men. There was also to be no office in the\nsociety belonging to the men, but he advised there should be a\ncorresponding one belonging to the women. By this new and impartial step\nhe raised the women of his own community beyond the level of women in\nothers, and laid the foundation of that improved strength of intellect,\ndignity of mind, capability of business, and habit of humane offices,\nwhich are so conspicuous among Female-Quakers at the present day.\n\nWith respect to the numerous offices, belonging to the discipline, he\nlaid it down as a principle, that the persons, who were to fill them,\nwere to have no other emolument or reward, than that, which a faithful\ndischarge of them would bring to their own consciences.\n\nThese are the general outlines of the system of discipline, as\nintroduced by George Fox. This system was carried into execution, as he\nhimself had formed it, in his own time. Additions, however, have been\nmade to it since, as it seemed proper, by the society at large. In the\ntime of George Fox, it was laid upon every member, as we have seen, to\nwatch over his neighbour for his spiritual welfare. But in 1698, the\nsociety conceiving, that what was the business of every one might\neventually become the business of no one, appointed officers, whose\nparticular duty it should be to be overseers of the morals of\nindividuals; thus hoping, that by the general vigilance enjoined by\nGeorge Fox, which was still to continue, and by the particular vigilance\nthen appointed, sufficient care would be taken of the morals of the\nwhole body. In the time, again, of George Fox, women had, only their\nmonthly and quarterly meetings for discipline, but it has since been\ndetermined, that they should have their yearly meetings equally with the\nmen. In the time, again, of George Fox, none but the grave members were\nadmitted into the meetings for discipline, but it has been since agreed,\nthat young persons should have the privilege of attending them, and\nthis, I believe, upon the notion, that. While these meetings would\nquality them for transacting the business of the society, they might\noperate as schools far virtue.\n\nThis system of discipline, as thus introduced by George Fox, and as thus\nenlarged by the society afterwards, has not escaped, notwithstanding the\nloveliness of its theory, the censure of the world.\n\nIt has been considered in the first place, as a system of espionage, by\nwhich one member is made a spy upon, or becomes an informer against\nanother. But against this charge it would be observed by the Quakers,\nthat vigilance over morals is unquestionably a Christian duty. It would\nbe observed again that the vigilance which is exercised in this case, is\nnot with the intention of mischief, as in the case of spies and\ninformers, but with the intention of good. It is not to obtain money,\nbut to preserve reputation and virtue. It is not to persecute but to\nreclaim. It is not to make a man odious, but to make him more\nrespectable. It is never an interference with innocence. The\nwatchfulness begins to be offensive only, where delinquency is begun.\n\nThe discipline, again, has been considered as too great an\ninfringement, of the liberty of those, who are brought under it. Against\nthis the Quakers would contend, that all persona who live in civil\nsociety, must give up a portion of their freedom, that more happiness\nand security may be enjoyed. So, when men enter into Christian\nsocieties, they must part with a little of their liberty for their moral\ngood.\n\nBut whatever may be the light in which persons, not of the society, may\nview this institution, the Quakers submit to, and respect it. It is\npossible there may be some, who may feel it a restraint upon their\nconduct. And there is no doubt, that it is a restraint upon those, who\nhave irregular desires to gratify, or destructive pleasures to pursue.\nBut generally speaking, the youth of the society, who receive a\nconsistent education, approve of it. Genuine Quaker parents, as I have\nhad occasion to observe, insist upon the subjugation of the will. It is\ntheir object to make their children lowly, patient and submissive. Those\ntherefore, who are born in the society, are born under the system, and\nare in general educated for it. Those who become converted to the\nreligion of the society, know beforehand the terms of their admission.\nAnd it will appear to all to be at least an equitable institution,\nbecause in the administration of it, there is no exception of persons.\nThe officers themselves, who are appointed to watch over, fall under the\ninspection of the discipline. The poor may admonish the rich, and the\nrich the poor. There, is no exception, in short, either for age, or sex,\nor station.\n\nIt is not necessary, at least in the present place, that I should go\nfarther, and rake up all the objections, that may be urged upon this\nsubject. I shall therefore only observe here, that the discipline of the\nQuakers, notwithstanding all its supposed imperfections, whatever, they\nmay be, is the grand foundation-stone, upon which their moral education\nis supported. It is the grand partition wall between them and vice. If\nthis part of the fabric were ever allowed to, be undermined, the\nbuilding would fall to pieces; though the Quakers might still be known\nby their apparel and their language, they would no longer be so\nremarkable as they are now generally confessed to, be, for their moral\ncharacter.\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_Manner of the administration of the discipline of the\nQuakers--Overseers appointed to every particular meeting--Manner of\nreclaiming an individual--first by admonition--this sometimes\nsuccessful--secondly by dealing--this sometimes successful--but if\nunsuccessful, the offender is disowned--but he may appeal afterwards to\ntwo different courts or meetings for redress.--_\n\n\nHaving now given the general outlines of the discipline of the Quakers, I\nshall proceed to explain the particular manner of the administration of\nit.\n\nTo administer it effectually all individuals of the society, as I have\njust stated, whether men or women, are allowed the power of watching\nover the conduct of one another for their good, and of interfering if\nthey should see occasion.\n\nBut besides this general care two or more persons of age and experience,\nand of moral lives and character, and two or more women of a similar\ndescription, are directed to be appointed, to have the oversight of\nevery congregation or particular meeting in the kingdom. These persons\nare called overseers, because it is their duty to oversee their\nrespective flocks.\n\nIf any of the members should violate the prohibitions mentioned in the\nformer part of the work, or should become chargeable with injustice,\ndrunkenness, or profane swearing, or neglect of their public worship, or\nshould act in any way inconsistently with his character as a christian,\nit becomes the particular duty of these overseers, though it is also the\nduty of the members at large, to visit him in private, to set before\nhim the error and consequences of his conduct, and to endeavour by all\nthe means in their power to reclaim him. This act on the part of the\noverseer is termed by the society admonishing. The circumstances of\nadmonishing and of being admonished are known only to the parties,\nexcept the case should have become of itself notorious; for secrecy is\nheld sacred on the part of the persons who admonish. Hence it may\nhappen, that several of the society may admonish the same person, though\nno one of them knows that any other has been visiting him at all. The\noffender may be thus admonished by overseers and other individuals for\nweeks and months together, for no time is fixed by the society, and no\npains are supposed to be spared for his reformation. It is expected,\nhowever, in all such admonitions, that no austerity of language or\nmanner should be used, but that he should be admonished in tenderness\nand love.\n\nIf an overseer, or any other individual, after having thus laboured to\nreclaim another for a considerable length of time, finds that he has not\nsucceeded in his work, and feels also that he despairs of succeeding by\nhis own efforts, he opens the matter to some other overseer, or to one\nor more serious members, and requests their aid. These persons now wait\nupon the offender together, and unite their efforts in endeavouring to\npersuade him to amend his life. This act, which now becomes more public\nby the junction of two or three in the work of his reformation, is still\nkept a secret from other individuals of the society, and still retains\nthe name of admonishing.\n\nIt frequently happens that, during these different admonitions, the\noffender sees his error, and corrects his conduct. The visitations of\ncourse cease, and he goes on in the estimation of the society as a\nregular or unoffending member, no one knowing but the admonishing\npersons, that he has been under the discipline of the society. I may\nobserve here, that what is done by men to men is done by women to women,\nthe women admonishing and trying to reclaim those of their own sex, in\nthe same manner.\n\nShould, however, the overseers, and other persons before mentioned, find\nafter a proper length of time that all their united efforts have been\nineffectual, and that they have no hope of success with respect to his\namendment, they lay the case, if it should be of a serious nature,\nbefore a [16]court, which has the name of the monthly meeting. This\ncourt, or meeting, make a minute of the case, and appoint a committee to\nvisit him. The committee in consequence, of their appointment wait upon\nhim. This act is now considered as a public act, or as an act of the\nchurch. It is not now termed admonishing, but changes its name to\n[17]dealing. The offender too, while the committee are dealing with\nhim, though he may attend the meetings of the society for worship, does\nnot attend those of their discipline.\n\n[Footnote 16: Certain acts of delinquency are reported to the monthly\nmeeting, as soon as the truth of the facts can be ascertained, such as a\nviolation of the rules of the society, with respect to marriage, payment\nof tythes, etc.]\n\n[Footnote 17: Women, though they may admonish, cannot deal with women,\nthis being an act of the church, till they have consulted the meetings\nof the men. Men are generally joined with women in the commission for\nthis purpose.]\n\nIf the committee, after having dealt with the offender according to\ntheir appointment, should be satisfied that he is sensible of his error,\nthey make a report to the monthly court or meeting concerning him. A\nminute is then drawn up, in which it is stated, that he has made\nsatisfaction for the offence. It sometimes happens, that he himself\nsends to the same meeting a written acknowledgement of his error. From\nthis time he attends the meetings for discipline again, and is continued\nin the society, as if nothing improper had taken place. Nor is any one\nallowed to reproach him for his former faults.\n\nShould, however, all endeavours prove ineffectual, and should the\ncommittee, after having duly laboured with the offender, consider him at\nlast as incorrigible, they report their proceedings to the monthly\nmeeting. He is then publicly excluded from membership, or, as it is\ncalled, [18]disowned. This is done by a distinct document, called a\ntestimony of disownment, in which the nature of the offence, and the\nmeans that have been used to reclaim him, are described. A wish is also\ngenerally expressed in this document, that he may repent, and be taken\ninto membership again. A copy of this minute is always required to be\ngiven to him.\n\n[Footnote 18: Women cannot disown, the power of disowning, is an act of\nthe church, being vested in the meetings of the men.]\n\nIf the offender should consider this act of disowning him as an unjust\nproceeding, he may appeal to a higher tribunal, or to the quarterly\ncourt, or meeting. This quarterly court or meeting, then appoint a\ncommittee, of which no one of the monthly meeting that condemned him can\nbe a member, to reconsider his ease. Should this committee report, and\nthe quarterly meeting in consequence decide against him, he may appeal\nto the yearly. This latter meeting is held in London, and consists of\ndeputies and others from all parts of the kingdom. The yearly meeting\nthen appoint a committee of twelve deputies, taken from twelve quarterly\nmeetings, none of whom can be from the quarterly meeting that passed\nsentence against him, to examine his case again. If this committee\nshould confirm the former decisions, he may appeal to the yearly meeting\nat large; but beyond this there is no appeal. But if he should even be\ndisowned by the voice of the yearly meeting at large, he may, if he\nlives to give satisfactory proof of his amendment, and sues for\nreadmission into the society, be received into membership again; but he\ncan only be received through the medium of the monthly meeting, by which\nhe was first disowned.\n\n\nSECT. III\n\n_Two charges usually brought against this administration of the\ndiscipline--that it is managed with an authoritative spirit--and that it\nis managed partially--these charges are considered._\n\n\nAs two charges are usually brought against the administration of that\npart of the discipline, which has been just explained, I shall consider\nthem in this place.\n\nThe first usually is, that, though the Quakers abhor what they call the\nauthority of priest craft, yet some overseers possess a portion of the\nspirit of ecclesiastical dominion; that they are austere, authoritative,\nand over bearing in the course of the exercise of their office, and\nthat, though the institution may be of Christian origin, it is not\nalways conducted by these with a Christian spirit. To this first charge\nI shall make the following reply.\n\nThat there may be individual instances, where this charge may be\nfounded, I am neither disposed, nor qualified, to deny. Overseers have\ntheir different tempers, like other people; and the exercise of dominion\nhas unquestionably a tendency to spoil the heart. So far there is an\nopening for the admission of this charge. But it must be observed, on\nthe other hand, that the persons, to be chosen overseers, are to be by\nthe laws of the society[19] \"as upright and unblameable in their\nconversation, as they can be found, in order that the advice, which they\nshall occasionally administer to other friends, may be the better\nreceived, and carry with it the greater weight and force on the minds of\nthose, whom they shall be concerned to admonish.\" It must be observed\nagain that it is expressly enjoined them, that \"they are to exercise\ntheir functions in a meek, calm, and peaceable spirit, in order that\nthe admonished may see that their interference with their conduct\nproceeds from a principle of love and a regard for their good, and\npreservation in the truth.\"\n\n[Footnote 19: Book of extracts.]\n\nAnd it must be observed again, that any violation of this injunction\nwould render them liable to be admonished by others, and to come under\nthe discipline themselves.\n\nThe second charge is, that the discipline is administered partially; or\nthat more favour is shewn to the rich than to the poor, and that the\nlatter are sooner disowned than the former for the same faults.\n\nThis latter charge has probably arisen from a vulgar notion, that, as\nthe poor are supported by the society, there is a general wish to get\nrid of them.--But this notion is not true. There is more than ordinary\ncaution in disowning those who are objects of support, add to which,\nthat, as some of the most orderly members of the body are to be found\namong the poor, an expulsion of these, in a hasty manner, would be a\ndiminution of the quantum of respectability, or of the quantum of moral\ncharacter, of the society at large.\n\nIn examining this charge, it must certainly be allowed, that though the\nprinciple \"of no respect of persons\" is no where carried to a greater\nlength than in the Quaker Society, yet we may reasonably expect to find\na drawback from the full operation of it in a variety of causes. We are\nall of us too apt, in the first place, to look up to the rich, but to\nlook down upon the poor. We are apt to court the good will of the\nformer, when we seem to care very little even whether we offend the\nlatter. The rich themselves and the middle classes of men respect the\nrich more than the poor; and the poor show more respect to the rich than\nto one another. Hence it is possible; that a poor man may find more\nreluctance in entering the doors of a rich man to admonish him, than one\nwho is rich to enter the doors of the poor for the same purpose, men,\nagain, though they may be equally good, may not have all the same\nstrength of character. Some overseers may be more timid than others, and\nthis timidity may operate upon them more in the execution of their duty\nupon one class of individuals, than upon another. Hence a rich man may\nescape for a longer time without admonition, than a poorer member. But\nwhen the ice is once broken; when admonition is once begun; when\nrespectable persons have been called in by overseers or others, those\ncauses, which might be preventive of justice, will decrease; and, if the\nmatter should be carried to a monthly or a quarterly meeting, they will\nwholly vanish. For in these courts it is a truth, that those, who are\nthe most irreproachable for their lives, and the most likely of course\nto decide justly on any occasion, are the most attended to, or carry the\nmost weight, when they speak publicly. Now these are to be found\nprincipally in the low and middle classes, and these, in all societies,\ncontain the greatest number of individuals. As to the very rich, these\nare few indeed compared with the rest, and these may be subdivided into\ntwo classes for the farther elucidation of the point. The first will\nconsist of men, who rigidly follow the rules of the society, and are as\nexemplary as the very best of the members. The second will consist of\nthose, who we members according to the letter, but not according to the\nspirit, and who are content with walking in the shadow, that follows the\nsubstance of the body. Those of the first class will do justice, and\nthey will have on equal influence with any. Those of the second,\nwhatever may be their riches, or whatever they may say, are seldom if\never attended to in the administration of the discipline.\n\nFrom hence it will appear, that if there be any partiality in the\nadministration of this institution, it will consist principally in this,\nthat a rich man may be suffered in particular cases, to go longer\nwithout admonition than a poorer member; but that after admonition has\nbeen begun, justice will be impartially administered; and that the\ncharges of a preference, where disowning is concerned, has no solid\nfoundation for its support.\n\n\nSECT. IV.\n\n_Three great principles discoverable in the discipline, as hitherto\nexplained--these applicable to the discipline of larger societies, or to\nthe criminal codes of states--lamentable, that as Christian principles,\nthey have not been admitted into our own--Quakers, as far as they have\nhad influence in legislation, have adopted them--exertions of William\nPenn--Legislature of Pennsylvania as example to other countries in this\nparticular._\n\n\nI find it almost impossible to proceed to the great courts or meetings\nof the Quakers, which I had allotted for my next subject, without\nstopping a while to make a few observations on the principles of that\npart of the discipline, which I have now explained.\n\nIt may be observed, first, that the great object of this part of the\ndiscipline is the reformation of the offending person: secondly, that\nthe means of effecting this object consists of religious instruction or\nadvice: and thirdly, that no pains are to be spared, and no time to be\nlimited, for the trial of these means, or, in other words, that nothing\nis to be left undone, while there is a hope that the offender may be\nreclaimed. Now these principles the Quakers adopt in the exercise of\ntheir discipline, because, as a Christian community, they believe they\nought to be guided only by Christian principles, and they know of no\nother, which the letter, or the spirit of Christianity, can warrant.\n\nI shall trespass upon the patience of the reader in this place, only\ntill I have made an application of these principles, or till I have\nshewn him how far these might be extended, and extended with advantage\nto morals, beyond the limits of the Quaker-society, by being received as\nthe basis, upon which a system, of penal laws might be founded, among\nlarger societies, or states.\n\nIt is much to be lamented, that nations, professing Christianity, should\nhave lost sight, in their various acts of legislation, of Christian\nprinciples: or that they should not have interwoven some such beautiful\nprinciples as those, which we have seen adopted by the Quakers, into the\nsystem of their penal laws. But if this negligence or omission would\nappear worthy of regret, if reported of any Christian nation, it would\nappear most so, if reported of our own, where one would have supposed,\nthat the advantages of civil and religious liberty, and those of a\nreformed religion, would have had their influence is the correction of\nour judgments, and in the benevolent dispositions of our will. And yet\nnothing is more true, than that these good influences have either never\nbeen produced, or, if produced, that they have never been attended to,\nupon this subject. There seems to be no provision for religions\ninstruction in our numerous prisons. We seem to make no patient trials\nof those, who are confined in them, for their reformation. But, on the\nother hand, we seem to hurry them off the stage of life, by means of a\ncode, which annexes death to two hundred different offences, as if we\nhad allowed our laws to be written by the bloody pen of the pagan Draco.\nAnd it seems remarkable, that this system should be persevered in, when\nwe consider that death, as far as the experiment has been made in our\nown country, has little or no effect as a punishment for crimes.\nForgery, and the circulation of forged paper, and the counterfeiting of\nthe money of the realm, are capital offences, and are never pardoned.\nAnd yet no offences are more frequently committed than these. And it\nseems still more remarkable, when we consider, in addition to this, that\nin consequence of the experiments, made in other countries, it seems to\nbe approaching fast to an axiom, that crimes are less frequent, in\nproportion as mercy takes place of severity, or as there are judicious\nsubstitutes for the punishment of death.\n\nI shall not inquire, in this place, how far the right of taking away\nlife on many occasions, which is sanctioned by the law of the land, can\nbe supported on the ground of justice, or how for a greater injury is\ndone by it, than the injury the criminal has himself done. As\nChristians, it seems that we should be influenced by Christian\nprinciples. Now nothing can be more true, than that Christianity\ncommands us to be tender hearted one to another, to have a tender\nforbearance one with another, and to regard one another as brethren. We\nare taught also that men, independently of their accountableness to\ntheir own governments, are accountable for their actions in a future\nstate, and that punishments are unquestionably to follow. But where are\nour forbearance and our love, where is our regard for the temporal and\neternal interests of man, where is our respect for the principles of the\ngospel, if we make the reformation of a criminal a less object than his\npunishment, or if we consign him to death, in the midst of his sins,\nwithout having tried all the means in our power for his recovery?\n\nHad the Quakers been the legislators of the world, they had long ago\ninterwoven the principles of their discipline into their penal codes,\nand death had been long ago abolished as a punishment for crimes. As far\nas they have had any power with legislatures, they have procured an\nattention to these principles. George Fox remonstrated with the judges\nin his time on the subject of capital punishments. But the Quakers\nhaving been few in number, compared with the rest of their countrymen,\nand having had no seats in the legislature, and no predominant interest\nwith the members of it, they have been unable to effect any change in\nEngland on this subject. In Pennsylvania, however, where they were the\noriginal colonists, they have had influence with their own government,\nand they have contributed to set up a model of jurisprudence, worthy of\nthe imitation of the world.\n\nWilliam Penn, on his arrival in America, formed a code of laws chiefly\non Quaker principles, in which, however, death was inscribed as a\npunishment, but it was confined to murder. Queen Anne set this code\naside, and substituted the statute and common law of the mother country.\nIt was, however, resumed in time, and acted upon for some years, when it\nwas set aside by the mother country again. From this time it continued\ndormant till the separation of America from England. But no sooner had\nthis event taken place, which rendered the American states their own\nlegislators, than the Pennsylvanian Quakers began to aim at obtaining an\nalteration of the penal laws. In this they were joined by worthy\nindividuals of other denominations; and these, acting in union, procured\nfrom the legislature of Pennsylvania, in the year 1786, a reform of the\ncriminal code. This reform, however, was not carried, in the opinion of\nthe Quakers, to a sufficient length. Accordingly, they took the lead\nagain, and exerted themselves afresh upon this subject. Many of them\nformed themselves into a society \"for alleviating the miseries of public\nprisons.\" Other persons co-operated with them in this undertaking also.\nAt length, after great perseverance, they prevailed upon the same\nlegislature, in the year 1790, to try an ameliorated system. This trial\nanswered so well, that the same legislature again, in the year 1794,\nestablished an act, in which several Quaker principles were\nincorporated, and in which only the crime of premeditated murder was\npunishable with death.\n\nAs there is now but one capital offence in Pennsylvania, punishments for\nother offences are made up of fine, imprisonment, and labour; and these\nare awarded separately or conjointly, according to the magnitude of the\ncrime.\n\nWhen criminals have been convicted, and sent to the great gaol of\nPhiladelphia to undergo their punishment, it is expected of them that\nthey should maintain themselves out of their daily labour; that they\nshould pay for their board and washing, and also for the use of their\ndifferent implements of labour; and that they should defray the expences\nof their commitment, and of their prosecutions and their trials. An\naccount therefore is regularly kept against them, and if at the\nexpiration of the term of their punishment, there should be a surplus of\nmoney in their favour, arising out of the produce of their work, it is\ngiven to them on their discharge.\n\nAn agreement is usually made about the price of prison-labour between\nthe inspector of the gaol and the employers of the criminals.\n\nAs reformation is now the great object in Pennsylvania, where offences\nhave been committed, it is of the first importance that the gaoler and\nthe different inspectors should be persons of moral character. Good\nexample, religious advice, and humane treatment on the part of these,\nwill have a tendency to produce attention, respect, and love on the part\nof the prisoners, and to influence their moral conduct. Hence it is a\nrule never to be departed from, that none are to be chosen as successors\nto these different officers, but such, as shall be found on inquiry to\nhave been exemplary in their lives.\n\nAs reformation, again, is now the great object, no corporal punishment\nis allowed in the prison. No keeper can strike a criminal. Nor can any\ncriminal be put into irons. All such punishments are considered as doing\nharm. They tend to extirpate a sense of shame. They tend to degrade a\nman and to make him consider himself as degraded in his own eyes;\nwhereas it is the design of this change in the penal system, that he\nshould be constantly looking up to the restoration of his dignity as a\nman, and to the recovery of his moral character.\n\nAs reformation, again, is now the great object, the following[20] system\nis adopted. No intercourse is allowed between the males and the females,\nnor any between the untried and the convicted prisoners. While they are\nengaged in their labour, they are allowed to talk only upon the subject,\nwhich immediately relates to their work. All unnecessary conversation\nis forbidden. Profane swearing is never overlooked. A strict watch is\nkept, that no spirituous liquors may be introduced. Care is taken that\nall the prisoners have the benefit of religious instruction. The prison\nis accordingly open, at stated times, to the pastors of the different\nreligious denominations of the place. And as the mind of man may be\nworked upon by rewards as well as by punishments, a hope is held out to\nthe prisoners, that the time of their confinement may be shortened by\ntheir good behaviour. For the inspectors, if they have reason to believe\nthat a solid reformation has taken place in any individual, have a power\nof interceding for his enlargement, and the executive government of\ngranting it, if they think it proper. In the case, where the prisoners\nare refractory, they are usually put into solitary confinement, and\ndeprived of the opportunity of working. During this time the expences of\ntheir board and washing are going on, so that they are glad to get into\nemployment again, that they may liquidate the debt, which, since the\nsuspension of their labour, has been accruing to the gaol.\n\n[Footnote 20: As cleanliness is connected with health, and health with\nmorals, the prisoner are obliged to wash and clean themselves every\nmorning before their work, and to bathe in the summer-season, in a large\nreservoir of water, which is provided in the court yard of the prison\nfor this purpose.]\n\nIn consequence of these regulations, those who visit the criminals in\nPhiladelphia in the hours of their labour, have more the idea of a\nlarge manufactory, than of a prison. They see nail-makers, sawyers,\ncarpenters, joiners, weavers, and others, all busily employed. They see\nregularity and order among these. And as no chains are to be seen in the\nprison, they seem to forget their situation as criminals, and to look\nupon them as the free and honest labourers of a community following\ntheir respective trades.\n\nIn consequence of these regulations, great advantages have arisen both\nto the criminals, and to the state. The state has experienced a\ndiminution of crimes to the amount of one half since the change of the\npenal system, and the criminals have been restored, in a great\nproportion, from the gaol to the community, as reformed persons. For few\nhave been known to stay the whole term of their confinement. But no\nperson could have had any of his time remitted him, except he had been\nconsidered both by the inspectors and the executive government as\ndeserving it. This circumstance of permission to leave the prison before\nthe time expressed in the sentence, is of great importance to the\nprisoners. For it operates as a certificate for them of their amendment\nto the world at large. Hence no stigma is attached to them for having\nbeen the inhabitants of a prison. It may be observed also, that some of\nthe most orderly and industrious, and such as have worked at the most\nprofitable trades, have had sums of money to take on their discharge,\nby which they have been able to maintain themselves honestly, till they\ncould get into employ.\n\nSuch is the state, and such the manner of the execution of the penal\nlaws of Pennsylvania, as founded upon Quaker-principles, so happy have\nthe effects of this new system already been, that it is supposed it will\nbe adopted by the other American States.\n\nMay the example be universally followed! May it be universally received\nas a truth, that true policy is inseparable from virtue; that in\nproportion as principles become lovely on account of their morality,\nthey will become beneficial, when acted upon, both to individual and to\nStates; or that legislators cannot raise a constitution upon so fair and\nfirm a foundation, as upon the gospel of Jesus Christ!\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. II.\n\n_Monthly court or meeting--constitution of this meeting--each county is\nusually divided into parts--in each of these parts or divisions are\nseveral meeting-houses, which have their several congregations attached\nto them--one meeting-house in each division is fixed upon for\ntransacting the business of all the congregations in that\ndivision--deputies appointed from every particular meeting or\ncongregation in each division to the place fixed upon for transacting\nthe business within it--nature of the business to be transacted--women\nbecome deputies, and transact business, equally with the men._\n\nI come, after this long digression, to the courts of the Quakers. And\nhere I shall immediately premise, that I profess to do little more than\nto give a general outline of these. I do not intend to explain the\nproceedings, preparatory to the meetings there, or to state all the\nexceptions from general rules, or to trouble the memory of the reader\nwith more circumstances than will be sufficient to enable him to have a\ngeneral idea of this part of the discipline of the Quakers.\n\nThe Quakers manage their discipline by means of monthly, quarterly, and\nyearly courts, to which, however they themselves uniformly give the name\nof meetings.\n\nTo explain the nature and business of the monthly or first of these\nmeetings, I shall fix upon some county in my own mind, and describe the\nbusiness, that is usually done in this in the course of the month. For\nas the business, which is usually transacted in any one county, is done\nby the Quakers in the same manner and in the same month in another, the\nreader, by supposing an aggregate of counties, may easily imagine, how\nthe whole business of the society is done for the whole kingdom.\n\nThe Quakers[21] usually divide a county into a number of parts,\naccording to the Quaker-population of it. In each of these divisions\nthere are usually several meeting-houses, and these have their several\ncongregations attached to them. One meeting-house, however, in each\ndivision, is usually fixed upon for transacting the business of all the\ncongregations that are within it, or for the holding of these monthly\ncourts. The different congregations of the Quakers, or the members of\nthe different particular meetings, which are settled in the northern\npart of the county, are attached of course to the meeting-house, which\nhas been fixed upon in the northern division of it because it gives them\nthe least trouble to repair to it on this occasion. The numbers of those\nagain, which are settled in the southern, or central, or other parts of\nthe county, are attached to that, which has been fixed upon in the\nsouthern, or central, or other divisions of it, for the same reason. The\ndifferent congregations in the northern division of the county appoint,\neach of them, a set of deputies once a month, which deputies are of both\nsexes, to repair to the meeting-house, which has been thus assigned\nthem. The different congregations in the southern, central, or other\ndivisions, appoint also, each of them, others, to repair to that, which\nhas been assigned them in like manner. These deputies are all of them\npreviously instructed in the matters, belonging to the congregations,\nwhich they respectively represent.\n\n[Footnote 21: This was the ancient method, when the society was numerous\nin every county of the kingdom, and the principle is still followed\naccording to existing circumstances.]\n\nAt length the day arrives for the monthly meeting. The deputies make\nready to execute the duties committed to their trust. They repair, each\nsett of them, to their respective places of meeting. Here a number of\nQuakers, of different ages and of both sexes, from their different\ndivisions, repair also. It is expected that[22] all, who can\nconveniently attend, should be present on this occasion.\n\n[Footnote 22: There may be persons, who on account of immoral conduct\ncannot attend.]\n\nWhen they are collected at the meeting-house, which was said to have\nbeen fixed upon in each division, a meeting for worship takes place. All\npersons, both men and women, attend together. But when this meeting is\nover, they separate into different apartments for the purposes of the\ndiscipline; the men to transact by themselves the business of the men,\nand of their own district, the women to transact that, which is more\nlimited, namely such as belongs to their own sex.\n\nIn the men's meeting, and it is the same in the women's, the names of\nthe deputies beforementioned, are first entered in a book, for, until\nthis act takes place, the meeting for discipline is not considered to be\nconstituted.\n\nThe minutes of the last monthly meeting are then generally read, by\nwhich it is seen if any business of the society was left unfinished.\nShould any thing occur of this sort, it becomes the [23]first object to\nbe considered and dispatched.\n\n[Footnote 23: The London monthly meetings begin differently from those\nin the country.]\n\nThe new business, in which the deputies were said to have been\npreviously instructed by the congregations which they represented comes\non. This business may be of various sorts. One part of it uniformly\nrelates to the poor. The wants of these are provided for, and the\neducation of their children taken care of, at this meeting.\nPresentations of marriages are received, and births, marriages, and\nfunerals are registered. If disorderly members, after long and repeated\nadmonitions, should have given no hopes of amendment, their case is\nfirst publicly cognizable in this court. Committees are appointed to\nvisit, advise, and try to reclaim them. Persons, reclaimed by these\nvisitations, are restored to membership, after having been well reported\nof by the parties deputed to visit them. The fitness of persons,\napplying for membership, from other societies, is examined here. Answers\nalso are prepared to the [24]queries at the proper time. Instructions\nalso are given, if necessary, to particular meetings, suited to the\nexigencies of their cases; and certificates are granted to members on\nvarious occasions.\n\n[Footnote 24: These queries will be explained in the next chapter.]\n\nIn transacting this, and other business of the society, all members\npresent we allowed to speak. The poorest man in the meeting-house,\nthough he may be receiving charitable contributions at the time, is\nentitled to deliver his sentiments upon any point. He may bring forward\nnew matter. He may approve or object to what others have proposed before\nhim. No person may interrupt him, while he speaks. The youth, who are\nsitting by, are gaining a knowledge of the affairs and discipline of the\nsociety, and are gradually acquiring sentiments and habits, that are to\nmark their character in life. They learn, in the first place, the duty\nof a benevolent and respectful consideration for the poor. In hearing\nthe different cases argued and discussed, they learn, in some measure,\nthe rudiments of justice, and imbibe opinions of the necessity of moral\nconduct. In these courts they learn to reason. They learn also to hear\nothers patiently, and without interruption, and to transact business,\nthat may come before them in maturer years with regularity and order.\n\nI cannot omit to mention here the orderly manner in which, the Quakers,\nconduct their business on these occasions. When a subject is brought\nbefore them, it is canvassed to the exclusion of all extraneous matter,\ntill some conclusion results. The clerk of the monthly meeting then\ndraws up a minute, containing, as nearly as he can collect, the\nsubstance of this conclusion. This minute is then read aloud to the\nauditory, and either stands or undergoes an alteration, as appears, by\nthe silence or discussion upon it, to be the sense of the meeting. When\nfully agreed upon, it stands ready to be recorded. When a second subject\ncomes on, it is canvassed, and a minute is made of it, to be recorded in\nthe same manner, before a third is allowed to be introduced. Thus each\npoint is settled, till the whole business of the meeting is concluded.\n\nI may now mention that in the same manner as the men proceed in their\napartment on this occasion, the women proceed in their own apartment or\nmeeting also. There are women-deputies, and women-clerks. They enter\ndown the names of these deputies, read the minutes, of the last monthly\nmeeting, bring forward the new matter, and deliberate and argue on the\naffairs of their own sex. They record their proceedings equally. The\nyoung females also, are present, and have similar opportunities of\ngaining knowledge, and of improving their judgments, and of acquiring\nuseful and moral habits, as the young men.\n\nIt is usual, when the women have finished the business of their own\nmeeting, to send one of their members to the apartments of the men, to\nknow if they have any thing to communicate. This messenger having\nreturned, and every thing having been settled and recorded in both\nmeetings, the monthly meeting is over, and men, women, and youth of both\nsexes, return to their respective homes.\n\nIn the same manner as the different congregations, or members of the\ndifferent meetings, in any one division of the county, meet together,\nand transact their monthly business, so other different congregations,\nbelonging to other divisions of the same county, meet at other appointed\nplaces, and dispatch their business also. And in the same manner as the\nbusiness is thus done in one county, it is done in every other county\nof the kingdom once a month.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. III.\n\n_Quarterly court or meeting--constitution of this meeting--one place in\neach county is now fixed upon for the transaction of business-this place\nmay be different in the different quarters of the year--deputies from\nthe various monthly meetings are appointed to repair to this\nplace--nature of the business to be transacted--certain queries\nproposed--written answers carried to these by the deputies just\nmentioned--Queries proposed in the womens meeting also, and answered in\nthe same manner_.--\n\n\nThe quarterly meeting of the Quakers, which comes next in order, is much\nmore numerously attended than the monthly. The monthly, as we have just\nseen, superintend the concerns of a few congregations or particular\nmeetings which were contained in a small division of the county. The\nquarterly meeting, on the other hand, superintends the concerns of all\nthe monthly meetings in the county at large. It takes cognizance of\ncourse of the concerns of a greater portion of population, and, as the\nname implies, for a greater extent of time. The Quaker population of a\n[25] whole county is now to assemble in one place. This place, however,\nis not always the same. It may be different, to accommodate the members\nin their turn, in the different quarters of the year.\n\n[Footnote 25: I still adhere, to give the reader a clearer idea of the\ndiscipline, and to prevent confusion, to the division by county, though\nthe district in question may not always comprehend a complete county.]\n\nIn the same manner as the different congregations in a small division of\na county have been shewn to have sent deputies to the respective monthly\nmeetings within it, so the different monthly meetings in the same county\nsend each of them, deputies to the quarterly. Two or more of each sex\nare generally deputed from each monthly meeting. These deputies are\nsupposed to have understood, at the monthly meeting, where they were\nchosen, all the matters which the discipline required them to know\nrelative to the state and condition of their constituents. Furnished\nwith this knowledge, and instructed moreover by written documents on a\nvariety of subjects, they repair at a proper time to the place of\nmeeting. All the Quakers in the district in question, who are expected\nto go, bend their direction hither. Any person travelling in the county\nat this time, would see an unusual number of Quakers upon the road\ndirecting their journey to the same point. Those who live farthest from\nthe place where the meeting is held, have often a long journey to\nperform. The Quakers are frequently out two or three whole days, and\nsometimes longer upon this occasion. But as this sort of meeting takes\nplace but once in the quarter, the loss of their time, and the fatigue\nof their journey, and the expences attending it, are borne cheerfully.\n\nWhen all of them are assembled, nearly the same custom obtains at the\nquarterly, as has been described at the monthly meeting. A meeting for\nworship is first held. The men and women, when this is over, separate\ninto their different apartments, after which the meeting for discipline\nbegins in each.\n\nI shall not detail the different kinds of business, which come on at\nthis meeting. I shall explain the principal subject only.\n\nThe society at large have agreed upon a number of questions, or queries\nas they call them, which they have committed to print, and which they\nexpect to be read and answered in the course of these quarterly meetings\nThe following is a list of them.\n\nI. Are meetings for worship and discipline kept up, and do Friends\nattend them duly, and at the time appointed; and do they avoid all\nunbecoming behavieur therein?\n\nII. Is there among you any growth in the truth; and hath any\nconvincement appeared since last year?\n\nIII. Are Friends preserved in love towards each other; if differences\narise, is due care taken speedily to end them; and are Friends careful\nto avoid and discourage tale-bearing and detraction?\n\nIV. Do Friends endeavour by example and precept to train up their\nchildren, servants, and all under their core, in a religions life and\nconversation, consistent with our Christian profession, in the frequent\nreading of the holy scriptures, and in plainness of speech, behaviour\nand apparel?\n\nV. Are Friends just in their dealings and punctual in fulfilling their\nengagements; and are they annually advised carefully to inspect the\nstate of their affairs once in the year?\n\nVI. Are Friends careful to avoid all vain sports and places of\ndiversion, gaming, all unnecessary frequenting of taverns, and other\npublic houses, excess in drinking, and other intemperance?\n\nVII. Do Friends bear a faithful and Christian testimony against\nreceiving and paying tythes, priests demands, and those called\nchurch-rates?\n\nVIII. Are Friends faithful in our testimony against bearing arms, and\nbeing in any manner concerned in the militia, in privateers, letters of\nmarque, or armed vessels, or dealing in prize-goods?\n\nIX. Are Friends clear of defrauding the king of his customs, duties and\nexcise, and of using, or dealing in goods suspected to be run?\n\nX. Are the necessities of the poor among you properly inspected and\nrelieved; and is good care taken of the education of their offspring?\n\nXI. Have any meetings been settled, discontinued, or united since last\nyear?\n\nXII. Are there any Friends prisoners for our testimonies; and if any one\nhath died a prisoner, or been discharged since last year, when and how?\n\nXIII. Is early care taken to admonish such as appear inclinable to marry\nin a manner contrary to the rules of our society; and to deal with such\nas persist in refusing to take counsel?\n\nXIV. Have you two or more faithful friends, appointed by the monthly\nmeeting, as overseers in each particular meeting; are the rules\nrespecting removals duly observed; and is due care taken, when any thing\nappears amiss, that the rules of our discipline be timely and\nimpartially put in practice?\n\nXV. Do you keep a record of the prosecutions and sufferings of your\nmembers; is due care taken to register all marriages, births, and\nburials; are the titles of your meeting houses, burial grounds, &c. duly\npreserved and recorded; and are all legacies and donations properly\nsecured, and recorded, and duly applied?\n\nThese are the Questions, which the society expect should be publicly\nasked and answered in their quarterly courts or meetings. Some of these\nare to be answered in one quarterly meeting, and [26] others in another;\nand all of them in the course of the year.\n\n[Footnote 26: The Quakers consider the punctual attendance of their\nreligious meetings, the preservation of love among them, and the care of\nthe poor, of such particular importance, that they require the first,\nthird, and tenth to be answered every quarter.]\n\nThe clerk of the quarterly meeting, when they come to this part of the\nbusiness, reads the first of the appointed queries to the members\npresent, and is then silent. Soon after this a deputy from one of the\nmonthly meetings comes forward, and producing the written documents, or\nanswers to the queries, all of which were prepared at the meeting where\nhe was chosen, reads that document, which contains a reply to the first\nquery in behalf of the meeting he represents. A deputy from a second\nmonthly meeting then comes forward, and produces his written documents\nalso, and answers the same query in behalf of his own meeting in the\nsame manner. A deputy from a third where there are more than two\nmeetings then produces his documents in his turn, and replies to it\nalso, and this mode is observed, till all the deputies from each of the\nmonthly meetings in the county have answered the first query.\n\nWhen the first query has been thus fully answered, silence is observed\nthrough the whole court. Members present have now an opportunity of\nmaking any observations they may think proper. If it should appear by\nany of the answers to the first query, that there is any departure from\nprinciples on the subject it contains in any of the monthly meetings\nwhich the deputies represent, it is noticed by any one present. The\nobservations made by one frequently give rise to observations from\nanother. Advice is sometimes ordered to be given, adapted to the nature\nof this departure from principles; and this advice is occasionally\ncirculated, through the medium of the different monthly meetings, to the\nparticular congregation, where the deviation has taken place.\n\nWhen the first query has been thus read by the clerk, and answered by\nthe deputies, and when observations have been made upon it, and\ninstructions given as now described, a second query is read audibly, and\nthe same process takes place, and similar observations are sometimes\nmade, and instructions given.\n\nIn the same manner a third query is read by the clerk, and answered by\nall the deputies, and observed upon by the meeting at large; and so on a\nfourth, and a fifth, till all the queries, set apart for the day are\nanswered.\n\nIt may be proper now to observe, that while the men in their own\nmeeting-house are thus transacting the quarterly business for\nthemselves, the women, in a different apartment or meeting-house, are\nconducting it also for their own sex. They read, answer, and observe\nupon, the queries in the same manner. When they nave settled their own\nbusiness, they send one or two of their members, as they did in the case\nof the monthly meeting, to the apartment of the men, to know if they\nhave any thing to communicate to them. When the business is finished in\nboth meetings, they break up, and prepare for their respective homes.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IV.\n\n_Great yearly court or meeting--constitution of this meeting--one place\nonly of meeting fixed upon for the whole kingdom--this the\nmetropolis--deputies appointed to it from the quarterly\nmeetings--business transacted at this meeting--matters decided, not by\nthe influence of numbers, but by the weight of religious character--no\nhead or chairman of this meeting--character of this discipline or\ngovernment of the Quakers--the laws, relating to it better obeyed than\nthose under any other discipline or government--reasons of this\nobedience_.\n\n\nIn the order, in which I have hitherto mentioned the meetings for the\ndiscipline of the Quakers, we have seen them rising by regular ascent,\nboth in importance and power. We have seen each in due progression\ncomprizing the actions of a greater population than the foregoing, and\nfor a greater period of time. I come now to the yearly meeting, which is\npossessed of a higher and wider jurisdiction than any that have been yet\ndescribed. This meeting does not take cognizance of the conduct of\nparticular or of monthly meetings, but, at one general view, of the\nstate and conduct of the members of each quarterly meeting, in order to\nform a judgment of the general state of the society for the whole\nkingdom.\n\nWe have seen, on a former occasion, the Quakers with their several\ndeputies repairing to different places in a county; and we have seen\nthem lately with their deputies again repairing to one great town in the\ndifferent counties at large. We are now to see them repairing to the\nmetropolis of the kingdom.\n\nAs deputies were chosen by each monthly meeting to represent it in the\nquarterly meeting, so the quarterly meetings choose deputies to\nrepresent them in the yearly meeting. These deputies are commissioned to\nbe the bearers of certain documents to London, which contain answers in\nwriting to a [27]number of the queries mentioned in the last chapter.\nThese answers are made up from the answers received by the several\nquarterly meetings from their respective monthly meetings. Besides these\nthey are to carry with them other documents, among which are accounts of\nsufferings in consequence of a refusal of military service, and of the\npayment of the demands of the church.\n\n[Footnote 27: Viz. numbers 1,2,3,4,7,8,9,10,11,12]\n\nThe deputies who are now generally four in number for each quarterly\nmeeting, that is, four of each sex (except for the quarterly meetings of\nYork and London, the former of which generally sends eight men and the\n[28] latter twelve, and each of them the like number of females) having\nreceived their different documents, set forward on their journey.\nBesides these many members of the society repair to the metropolis. The\ndistance of three or four hundred miles forms no impediment to the\njourney. A man cannot travel at this time, but he sees the Quakers in\nmotion from all parts, shaping their course to London, there to\nexercise, as will appear shortly, the power of deputies, judges, and\nlegislators in turn, and to investigate and settle the affairs of the\nsociety for the preceding year.\n\n[Footnote 28: The quarterly meeting of London includes Middlesex.]\n\nIt may not be amiss to mention a circumstance, which has not\nunfrequently occurred upon these occasions. A Quaker in low\ncircumstances, but of unblemished life, has been occasionally chosen as\none of the deputies to the metropolis even for a county, where the\nQuaker-population has been considered to be rich. This deputy has\nscarcely been able, on account of the low state of his finances, to\naccomplish his journey, and has been known to travel on foot from\ndistant parts. I mention this circumstance to shew that the society in\nits choice of representatives, shews no respect to persons, but that it\npays, even in the persons of the poor, the respect that is due to\nvirtue.\n\nThe day of the yearly meeting at length arrives. Whole days are now\ndevoted to business, for which various committees are obliged to be\nappointed. The men, as before, retire to a meeting-house allotted to\nthem, to settle the business for the men and the society at large, and\nthe women retire to another, to settle that, which belongs to their own\nsex. There are nevertheless, at intervals, meetings for worship at the\nseveral meeting houses in the metropolis.\n\nOne great part of the business of the yearly meeting is to know the\nstate of the society in all its branches of discipline for the preceding\nyear. This is known by hearing the answers brought to the queries from\nthe several quarterly meetings, which are audibly read by the clerk or\nhis assistant, and are taken in rotation alphabetically. If any\ndeficiency in the discipline should appear by means of these documents,\nin any of the quarterly meetings, remarks follow on the part of the\nauditory, and written advices are ordered to be sent, if it should\nappear necessary, which are either of a general nature, or particularly\ndirected to those where the deficiency has been observed.\n\nAnother part of the business of the yearly meeting is to ascertain the\namount of the money, called \"FRIENDS SUFFERINGS,\" that is of the money,\nor the value of the goods, that have been taken from the Quakers for\n[29] tithes and church dues; for the society are principled against the\nmaintenance of any religious ministry, and of course cannot\nconscientiously pay toward the support of the established church. In\nconsequence of their refusal of payment in the latter case, their goods\nare seized by a law-process, and sold to the best bidder. Those, who\nhave the charge of these executions, behave differently. Some wantonly\ntake such goods, as will not sell for a quarter of their value, and\nothers much more than is necessary, and others again kindly select\nthose, which in the sale will be attended with the least loss. This\namount, arising from this confiscation of their property, is easily\nascertained from the written answers of the deputies. The sum for each\ncounty is observed, and noted down. The different sums are then added\ntogether, and the amount for the whole kingdom within the year is\ndiscovered.\n\n[Footnote 29: Distraints or imprisonment for refusing to serve in the\nmilitia are included also under the head \"sufferings.\"]\n\nIn speaking of tithes and church-dues I must correct an error, that is\nprevalent. It is usually understood, when Quakers suffer on these\naccounts, that their losses are made up by the society at large. Nothing\ncan be more false than this idea. Were their losses made up on such\noccasions, there would be no suffering. The fact is, that whatever a\nperson loses in this way is his own total loss; nor is it ever refunded,\nthough, in consequence of expensive prosecutions at law, it has amounted\nto the whole of the property of those, who have refused the payment of\nthese demands. If a man were to come to poverty on this account, he\nwould undoubtedly be supported, but he would only be supported as\nbelonging to the poor of the society.\n\nAmong the subjects, introduced at this meeting, may be that of any new\nregulations for the government of the society. The Quakers are not so\nblindly attached to antiquity, as to keep to customs, merely because\nthey are of an ancient date. But they are ready, on conviction, to\nchange, alter, and improve. When, however, such regulations or\nalterations are proposed, they must come not through the medium of an\nindividual, but through the medium of one of the quarterly meetings.\n\nThere is also a variety of other business at the yearly meeting. Reports\nare received and considered on the subject of Ackworth school, which was\nmentioned in a former part of the work as a public seminary of the\nsociety.\n\nLetters are also read from the branches of the society in foreign parts,\nand answers prepared to them.\n\nAppeals also are heard in various instances, and determined in this\ncourt.\n\nI may mention here two circumstances, that are worthy of notice on these\noccasions.\n\nIt may be observed that whether such business as that, which I have just\ndetailed or any of any other sort comes before the yearly meeting at\nlarge, it is decided, not by the influence of numbers, but by the weight\nof religious character. As most subjects afford cause for a difference\nof opinion, so the Quakers at this meeting are found taking their\ndifferent sides of the argument, as they believe it right. Those\nhowever, who are in opposition to any measure, if they perceive by the\nturn the debate takes, either that they are going against the general\nwill, or that they are opposing the sentiments of members of high moral\nreputation in the society, give way. And so far do the Quakers carry\ntheir condescension on these occasions, that if a few ancient and\nrespectable individuals seem to be dissatisfied with any measure that\nmay have been proposed, though otherwise respectably supported, the\nmeasure is frequently postponed, out of tenderness to the feelings of\nsuch members, and from a desire of gaining them in time by forbearance.\nBut, in whatever way the question before them is settled, no division is\never called for. No counting of numbers is allowed. No protest is\nsuffered to be entered. In such a case there can be no ostensible leader\nof any party; no ostensible minority or majority. The Quakers are of\nopinion that such things, if allowed, would be inconsistent with their\nprofession. They would lead also to broils and divisions, and ultimately\nto the detriment of the society. Every measure therefore is settled by\nthe Quakers at this meeting in the way I have mentioned, in brotherly\nlove, and as the name of the society signifies, as Friends.\n\nThe other remarkable circumstance is, that there is no ostensible\npresident or [30] head of this great assembly, nor any ostensible\npresident or head of any one of its committees; and yet the business of\nthe society is conducted in as orderly a manner, as it is possible to be\namong any body of men, where the number is so great, and where every\nindividual has a right to speak.\n\n[Footnote 30: Christ is supposed by the Quakers to be the head, under\nwhose guidance all their deliberations ought to take place.]\n\nThe state of the society having, by this time been ascertained, both in\nthe meetings of the women and of the men, from the written answers of\nthe different deputies, and from the reports of different committees,\nand the [31]other business of the meeting having been nearly finished, a\ncommittee, which had been previously chosen, meet to draw up a public\nletter.\n\n[Footnote 31: This may relate to the printing of books, to testimonies\nconcerning deceased ministers, addresses to the king, if thought\nnecessary, and the like.]\n\nThis letter usually comprehends three subjects: first, the state of the\nsociety, in which the sufferings for tithes and other demands of the\nchurch are included. This state, in all its different branches, the\ncommittee ascertain by inspecting the answers, as brought by the\ndeputies before mentioned.\n\nA second subject, comprehended in the letter, is advice to the society\nfor the regulation of their moral and civil conduct. This advice is\nsuggested partly from the same written answers, and partly by the\ncircumstances of the times. Are there, for instance, any vicious customs\ncreeping into the society, or any new dispositions among its members\ncontrary to the Quaker principles? The answers brought by the deputies\nshew it, and advice is contained in the letter adapted to the case. Are\nthe times, seasons of difficulty and embarrassment in the commercial\nworld? Is the aspect of the political horizon gloomy, and does it appear\nbig with convulsions? New admonition and, advices follow.\n\n\nA third subject, comprehended in the letter, and which I believe since\nthe year 1787 has frequently formed a standing article in it, is the\nslave-trade. The Quakers consider this trade as so extensively big with\nmisery to their fellow creatures, that their members ought to have a\ndeep and awful feeling, and a religious care and concern about it. This\nand occasionally other subjects having been duly weighed by the\ncommittee, they begin to compose the letter.\n\nWhen the letter is ready, it is brought into the public meeting, and the\nwhole of it, without interruption, is first read audibly. It is then\nread over again, and canvassed, sentence by sentence. Every sentence,\nnay every word, is liable to alteration; for any one may make his\nremarks, and nothing can stand but by the sense of the meeting. When\nfinally settled and approved, it is printed and dispersed among the\nmembers throughout the nation. This letter may be considered as\ninforming the society of certain matters, that occurred in the preceding\nyear, and as conveying to them admonitions on various subjects. This\nletter is emphatically stiled \"the General Epistle.\" The yearly\nmeeting, having now lasted about ten days, is dissolved after a solemn\npause, and the different deputies are at liberty to return home.\n\nThis important institution of the yearly meeting brings with it, on\nevery return, its pains and pleasures. To persons of maturer years, who\nsit at this time on committee after committee, and have various offices\nto perform, it is certainly an aniversary of care and anxiety, fatigue\nand trouble. But it affords them, on the other hand, occasions of\ninnocent delight. Some, educated in the same school, and others, united\nby the ties of blood and youthful friendship, but separated from one\nanother by following in distant situations the various concerns of life,\nmeet together in the intervals of the disciplinary business, and feel,\nin the warm recognition of their ancient intercourse, a pleasure, which\nmight have been delayed for years, but for the intervention of this\noccasion. To the youth it affords an opportunity, amidst this concourse\nof members, of seeing those who are reputed to be of the most exemplary\ncharacter in the society, and whom they would not have had the same\nchance of seeing at any other time. They are introduced also at this\nseason to their relations and family friends. They visit about, and form\nnew connections in the society, and are permitted the enjoyment of other\nreasonable pleasures.\n\nSuch is the organization of the discipline or government of the\nQuakers. Nor may it improperly be called a government, when we consider\nthat, besides all matters relating to the church, it takes cognizance of\nthe actions of Quakers to Quakers, and of these to their\nfellow-citizens, and of these again to the state; in fact of all actions\nof Quakers, if immoral in the eye of the society, us soon at they we\nknown. It gives out its prohibitions. It marks its crimes. It imposes\noffices on its subjects. It culls them to disciplinary duties.[32]This\ngovernment however, notwithstanding its power, has, as I observed\nbefore, no president or head, either permanent or temporary. There is no\nfirst man through the whole society. Neither has it any badge of office,\nor mace, or constables staff or sword. It may be observed also, that it\nhas no office of emolument, by which its hands can be strengthened,\nneither minister, elder, [33]clerk, overseer, nor deputy, being paid;\nand yet its administration is firmly conducted, and its laws better\nobeyed, than laws by persons, under any other denomination or\ngovernment. The constant assemblage of the Quakers at their places of\nworship, and their unwearied attendances at the monthly and quarterly\nmeetings, which they must often frequent at a great distance, to their\nown personal inconvenience, and to the hindrance of their worldly\nconcerns, must be admitted, in part, as proofs of the last remark. But\nwhen we consider them as a distinct people, differing in their manner of\nspeech and in their dress and customs from others, rebelling against\nfashion and the fashionable world, and likely therefore to become rather\nthe objects of ridicule than of praise; when we consider these things,\nand their steady and rigid perseverance in the peculiar rules and\ncustoms of the society, we cannot but consider their obedience to their\nown discipline, which makes a point of the observance of these\nsingularities, as extraordinary.\n\n[Footnote 32: The government or discipline is considered as a\ntheocracy.]\n\n[Footnote 33: The clerk, who keeps the records of the society in London,\nis the only person who has a salary.]\n\nThis singular obedience, however, to the laws of the society may be\naccounted for on three principles. In the first place in no society is\nthere so much vigilance over the conduct of its members, as in that of\nthe Quakers, as this history of their discipline must have already\nmanifested. This vigilance of course, cannot miss of its effect. But a\nsecond cause is the following. The Quaker-laws and regulations are not\nmade by any one person, nor by any number even of deputies. They are\nmade by themselves, that is by the society in yearly meeting assembled.\nIf a bad law, or the repeal of a good one, be proposed, every one\npresent, without distinction, has a right to speak against the motion.\nThe proposition cannot pass against the sense of the meeting. If persons\nare not present, it is their own fault. Thus it happens that every law,\npassed at the yearly meeting, may be considered, in some measure, as the\nlaw of every Quaker's own will, and people are much more likely to\nfollow regulations made by their own consent, than those which are made\nagainst it. This therefore has unquestionably an operation as a second\ncause. A third may be traced in the peculiar sentiments, which the\nQuakers hold as a religious body. They believe that many of their\nmembers, when they deliver themselves publicly on any subject at the\nyearly meeting, are influenced by the dictates of the pure principle, or\nby the spirit of truth. Hence the laws of the society, which are\nconsidered to be the result of such influences, have with them the\nsanction of spiritual authority. They pay them therefore a greater\ndeference on this account, than they would to laws, which they conceive\nto have been the production of the mere imagination, or will, of man.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. V.\n\n_Disowning--foundation of the right of disowning--disowning no slight\npunishment--wherein the hardship or suffering consists_.\n\n\nI shall conclude the discipline of the Quakers by making a few remarks\non the subject of disowning.\n\nThe Quakers conceive they have a right to excommunicate or disown;\nbecause persons, entering into any society, have a right to make their\nown reasonable rules of membership, and so early as the year 1663, this\npractice had been adopted by George Fox, and those who were in religious\nunion with him. Those, who are born in the society, are bound of course,\nto abide by these rules, while they continue to be the rules of the\ngeneral will, or to leave it. Those who come into it by convincement,\nare bound to follow them, or not to sue for admission into membership.\nThis right of disowning, which arises from the reasonableness of the\nthing, the Quakers consider to have been pointed out and established by\nthe author of the christian religion, who determined that [34]if a\ndisorderly person, after having received repeated admonitions, should still\ncontinue disorderly, he should be considered as an alien by the church.\n\n[Footnote 34: Matt. 18.v. 17.]\n\nThe observations, which I shall make on the subject of disowning, will\nbe wholly confined to it as it must operate as a source of suffering to\nthose, who are sentenced to undergo it. People are apt to say, \"where is\nthe hardship of being disowned? a man, though disowned by the Quakers,\nmay still go to their meetings for worship, or he may worship if he\nchooses, with other dissenters, or with those of the church of England,\nfor the doors of all places of worship are open to those, who desire to\nenter them.\" I shall state therefore in what this hardship consists, and\nI should have done it sooner, but that I could never have made it so\nwell understood as after an explanation had been given of the discipline\nof the Quakers, or as in the present place.\n\nThere is no doubt that a person, who is disowned, will be differently\naffected by different considerations. Something will depend upon the\ncircumstance, whether he considers himself as disowned for a moral or a\npolitical offence. Something, again, whether he has been in the habit of\nattending the meetings for discipline, and what estimation he may put\nupon these.\n\nBut whether he has been regular or not in these attendances, it is\ncertain that he has a power and a consequence, while he remains in his\nown society, which he loses when he leaves it, or when he becomes a\nmember of the world. The reader will have already observed, that in no\nsociety is a man, if I may use the expression, so much of a man, as in\nthat of the Quakers, or in no society is there such an equality of rank\nand privileges. A Quaker is called, as we have seen, to the exercise of\nimportant and honourable functions.\n\nHe sits in his monthly meeting, as it were in council, with the rest of\nthe members. He sees all equal but he sees none superior, to himself. He\nmay give his advice on any question. He may propose new matter. He may\nargue and reply. In the quarterly meetings he is called to the exercise\nof the same privileges, but on a larger scale. And at the yearly meeting\nhe may, if he pleases, unite in his own person the offices of council,\njudge, and legislator. But when he leaves the society, and goes out into\nthe world, he has no such station or power. He sees there every body\nequal to himself in privileges, and thousands above him. It is in this\nloss of his former consequence that he must feel a punishment in having\nbeen disowned. For he can never be to his own feelings what he was\nbefore. It is almost impossible that he should not feel a diminution of\nhis dignity and importance as a man.\n\nNeither can he restore himself to these privileges by going to a distant\npart of the kingdom and residing among quakers there, on a supposition\nthat his disownment may be concealed. For a Quaker, going to a new abode\namong Quakers, must carry with him a certificate of his conduct from the\nlast monthly meeting which he left, or he cannot be received as a\nmember.\n\nBut besides losing these privileges, which confer consequence upon him,\nhe looses others of another kind. He cannot marry in the society. His\naffirmation will be no longer taken instead of his oath. If a poor man,\nhe is no longer exempt from the militia, if drawn by submitting to three\nmonths imprisonment; nor is he entitled to that comfortable maintenance,\nin case of necessity, which the society provide for their own poor.\n\nTo these considerations it may not perhaps be superfluous to add, that\nif he continues to mix with the members of his own society, he will\noccasionally find circumstances arising, which will remind him of his\nformer state: and if he transfers his friendship to others, he will feel\nawkward and uneasy, and out of his element, till he has made his temper,\nhis opinions, and his manners, harmonize with those of his new\nassociates of the world.\n\n\n\n\nPECULIAR CUSTOMS OF THE QUAKERS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. I. SECT. I.\n\n_Dress--Quakers distinguished by their dress from others--great\nextravagance in dress in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries--this\nextravagance had reached the clergy--but religious individuals kept to\ntheir antient dresses--the dress which the men of this description wore\nin those days--dress of the women of this description also--George Fox\nand the Quakers springing out of these, carried their plain habits with\nthem into their new society._\n\n\nI have now explained, in a very ample manner, the moral education and\ndiscipline of the Quakers. I shall proceed to the explanation of such\ncustoms, as seem peculiar to them as a society of christians.\n\nThe dress of the Quakers is the first custom of this nature, that I\npurpose to notice. They stand distinguished be means of it from all\nother religious bodies The men wear neither lace, frills, ruffles,\nswords, nor any of the ornaments used by the fashionable world. The\nwomen wear neither lace, flounces, lappets, rings, bracelets, necklaces,\near-rings, nor any thing belonging to this class. Both sexes are also\nparticular in the choice of the colour of their clothes. All gay colours\nsuch as red, blue, green, and yellow, are exploded. Dressing in this\nmanner, a Quaker is known by his apparel through the whole kingdom. This\nis not the case with any other individuals of the island, except the\nclergy; and these, in consequence of the black garments worn by persons\non account of the death of their relations, are not always distinguished\nfrom others.\n\nI know of no custom among the Quakers, which has more excited the\ncuriosity of the world, than this of their dress, and none, in which\nthey have been more mistaken in their conjectures concerning it.\n\n[35]In the early times of the English History, dress had been frequently\nrestricted by the government.--Persons of a certain rank and fortune\nwere permitted to wear only cloathing of a certain kind. But these\nrestrictions and distinctions were gradually broken down, and people, as\nthey were able and willing, launched out into unlimited extravagance in\ntheir dress. The fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and down from thence\nto the time when the Quakers first appeared, were periods, particularly\nnoticed for prodigality in the use of apparel, there was nothing too\nexpensive or too preposterous to be worn. Our ancestors also, to use an\nancient quotation, \"were never constant to one colour or fashion two\nmonths to an end.\" We can have no idea by the present generation, of the\nfolly in such respects, of these early ages. But these follies were not\nconfined to the laiety. Affectation of parade, and gaudy cloathing, were\nadmitted among many of the clergy, who incurred the severest invectives\nof the poets on that account. The ploughman, in Chaucer's Canterbury\nTales, is full upon this point. He gives us the following description of\na Priest\n\n   \"That hye on horse wylleth to ride,\n   In glytter ande gold of great araye,\n   'I painted and pertred all in pryde,\n   No common Knyght may go so gaye;\n   Chaunge of clothyng every daye,\n   With golden gyrdles great and small,\n   As boysterous as is here at baye;\n   All suche falshed mote nede fell.\"\n\n[Footnote 35: See Strut's Antiquities.]\n\nTo this he adds, that many of them had more than one or two mitres,\nembellished with pearls, like the head of a queen, and a staff of gold\nset with jewels, as heavy as lead. He then speaks of their appearing out\nof doors with broad bucklers and long swords, or with baldrics about\ntheir necks, instead of stoles, to which their basellards were attached.\n\n   \"Bucklers brode and sweardes longe,\n   Baudryke with baselards kene.\"\n\nHe then accuses them with wearing gay gowns of scarlet and green\ncolours, ornamented with cut-work, and for the long pykes upon their\nshoes.\n\nBut so late as the year 1652 we have the following anecdote of the\nwhimsical dress of a clergyman. John Owen, Dean of Christ church, and\nVice-Chancellor of Oxford, is represented an wearing a lawn-band, as\nhaving his hair powdered and his hat curiously cocked. He is described\nalso as wearing Spanish leather-boots with lawn-tops, and snake-bone\nband-strings with large tassels, and a large set of ribbands pointed at\nhis knees with points or tags at the end. And much about the same time,\nwhen Charles the second was at Newmarket, Nathaniel Vincent, doctor of\ndivinity, fellow of Clare-hall, and chaplain in ordinary to his majesty,\npreached before him. But the king was so displeased with the foppery of\nthis preacher's, dress, that he commanded the duke of Monmouth, then\nchancellor of the university, to cause the statutes concerning decency\nof apparel among the clergy to be put into execution, which was\naccordingly done. These instances are sufficient to shew, that the taste\nfor preposterous and extravagant dress must have operated like a\ncontagion in those times, or the clergy would scarcely have dressed\nthemselves in this ridiculous and censurable manner.\n\nBut although this extravagance was found among many orders of society at\nthe time of the appearance of George Fox, yet many individuals had set\ntheir faces against the fashions of the world. These consisted\nprincipally of religious people of different denominations, most of whom\nwere in the middle classes of life. Such persons were found in plain and\nsimple habits notwithstanding the contagion of the example of their\nsuperiors in rank. The men of this description generally wore plain\nround hats with common crowns. They had discarded the sugar-loaf hat,\nand the hat turned up with a silver clasp on one side, as well as all\nornaments belonging to it, such as pictures, feathers, and bands of\nvarious colours. They had adopted a plain suit of clothes. They wore\ncloaks, when necessary, over these. But both the clothes and the cloaks\nwere of the same colour. The colour of each of them was either drab or\ngrey. Other people who followed the fashions, wore white, red, green,\nyellow, violet, scarlet, and other colours, which were expensive,\nbecause they were principally dyed in foreign parts. The drab consisted\nof the white wool undyed, and the grey of the white wool mixed with the\nblack, which was undyed also. These colours were then the colours of the\nclothes, because they were the least expensive, of the peasants of\nEngland, as they are now of those of Portugal and Spain. They had\ndiscarded also, all ornaments, such as of lace, or bunches of ribbands\nat the knees, and their buttons were generally of alchymy, as this\ncomposition was then termed, or of the same colour as their clothes.\n\nThe grave and religious women also, like the men, had avoided the\nfashions of their times. These had adopted the cap, and the black hood\nfor their headdress. The black hood had been long the distinguishing\nmark of a grave matron. All prostitutes, so early as Edward the third,\nhad been forbidden to wear it. In after-times it was celebrated by the\nepithet of venerable by the poets, and had been introduced by painters\nas the representative of virtue. When fashionable women had discarded\nit, which was the case in George Fox's time, the more sober, on account\nof these ancient marks of its sanctity, had retained it, and it was then\ncommon among them. With respect to the hair of grave and sober women In\nthose days, it was worn plain, and covered occasionally by a plain hat\nor bonnet. They had avoided by this choice those preposterous\nhead-dresses and bonnets, which none but those, who have seen paintings\nof them, could believe ever to have been worn. They admitted none of the\nlarge ruffs, that were then in use, but chose the plain handkerchief for\ntheir necks, differing from those of others, which had rich point, and\ncurious lace. They rejected the crimson sattin doublet with black velvet\nskirts, and contented themselves with a plain gown, generally of stuff,\nand of a drab, or grey, or buff, or buffin colour, as it was called, and\nfaced with buckram. These colours, as I observed before, were the\ncolours worn by country people; and were not expensive, because they\nwere not dyed. To this gown was added a green apron. Green aprons had\nbeen long worn in England, yet, at the time I allude to, they were out\nof fashion, so as to be ridiculed by the gay. But old fashioned people\nstill retained them. Thus an idea of gravity was connected with them;\nand therefore religious and steady women adopted them, as the grave and\nsober garments of ancient times.\n\nIt may now be observed that from these religious persons, habited in\nthis manner, in opposition to the fashions of the world, the primitive\nQuakers generally sprung. George Fox himself wore the plain grey coat\nthat has been noticed, with alchymy buttons, and a plain leather girdle\nabout his waist. When the Quakers therefore first met in religious\nunion, they met in these simple clothes. They made no alteration in\ntheir dress on account of their new religion. They prescribed no form or\ncolour as distinguishing marks of their sect, but they carried with them\nthe plain habits of their ancestors into the new society, as the habits\nof the grave and sober people of their own times.\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_But though George Fox introduced no new dress into the society, he was\nnot indifferent on the subject--he recommended simplicity and\nplainness--and declaimed against the fashions of the times--supported by\nBarclay and Penn--these explained the objects of dress--the influence of\nthese explanations--dress at length incorporated into the\ndiscipline--but no standard fixed either of shape or colour--the\nobjects of dress only recognized, and simplicity recommended--a new\nEra--great variety allowable by the discipline--Quakers have deviated\nless from the dress of their ancestors than other people._\n\n\nThough George Fox never introduced any new or particular garments, when\nhe formed the society, as models worthy of the imitation of those who\njoined him, yet, as a religious man, he was not indifferent upon the\nsubject of dress. Nor could he, as a reformer, see those extravagant\nfashions, which I have shewn to have existed in his time, without\npublicly noticing them. We find him accordingly recommending to his\nfollowers simplicity and plainness of apparel, and bearing his testimony\nagainst the preposterous and fluctuating apparel of the world.\n\nIn the various papers, which he wrote or gave forth upon this subject,\nhe bid it down as a position, that all ornaments, superfluities, and\nunreasonable changes in dress, manifested an earthly or worldly spirit.\nHe laid it down again, that such things, being adopted principally for\nthe lust of the eye, were productive of vanity and pride, and that, in\nproportion as men paid attention to these outward decorations and\nchanges, they suffered some loss in the value and dignity of their\nminds. He considered also all such decorations and changes, as contrary\nboth to the letter and the spirit of the scriptures. Isaiah, one of the\ngreatest prophets under the law, had severely reproved the daughters of\nIsrael on account of their tinkling ornaments, cauls, round tires,\nchains, bracelets, rings, and ear-rings. St. Paul also and St. Peter had\nboth of them cautioned the women of their own times, to adorn themselves\nin modest apparel, and not with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or\ncostly array. And the former had spoken to both sexes indiscriminately\nnot to conform to the world, in which latter expression he evidently\nincluded all those customs of the world, of whatsoever nature, that were\nin any manner injurious to the morality of the minds of those who\nfollowed them.\n\nBy the publication of these sentiments, George Fox shewed to the world,\nthat it was his opinion, that religion, though it prescribed no\nparticular form of apparel, was not indifferent as to the general\nsubject of dress. These sentiments became the sentiments of his\nfollowers. But the society was coming fast into a new situation. When\nthe members of it first met in union, they consisted of grown up\npersons; of such, as had had their minds spiritually exercised, and\ntheir judgments convinced in religious matters; of such in fact as had\nbeen Quakers in spirit, before they had become Quakers by name. All\nadmonitions therefore on the subject of dress were unnecessary for such\npersons. But many of those, who had joined the society, had brought with\nthem children into it, and from the marriages of others, children were\ndaily springing up. To the latter, in a profligate age, where the\nfashions were still raging from without, and making an inroad upon the\nminds and morals of individuals, some cautions were necessary for the\npreservation of their innocence in such a storm. For these were the\nreverse of their parents. Young, in point of age, they were Quakers by\nname, before they could become Quakers in spirit. Robert Barclay\ntherefore, and William Penn, kept alive the subject of dress, which\nGeorge Fox had been the first to notice in the society. They followed\nhim on his scriptural ground. They repeated the arguments, that\nextravagant dress manifested an earthly spirit, and that it was\nproductive of vanity and pride. But they strengthened the case by adding\narguments of their own. Among these I may notice, that they considered\nwhat were the objects of dress. They reduced these to two, to decency,\nand comfort, in which latter idea was included protection from the\nvaried inclemencies of the weather. Every thing therefore beyond these\nthey considered as superfluous. Of course all ornaments would become\ncensurable, and all unreasonable changes indefensible, upon such a\nsystem.\n\nThese discussions, however, on this subject never occasioned the more\nancient Quakers to make any alteration in their dress, for they\ncontinued as when they had come into the society, to be a plain people.\nBut they occasioned parents to be more vigilant over their children in\nthis respect, and they taught the society to look upon dress, as a\nsubject connected with the christian religion, in any case, where it\ncould become injurious to the morality of the mind. In process of time\ntherefore as the fashions continued to spread, and the youth of the\nsociety began to come under their dominion, the Quakers incorporated\ndress among other subjects of their discipline. Hence no member, after\nthis period, could dress himself preposterously, or follow the fleeting\nfashions of the world, without coming under the authority of friendly\nand wholesome admonition. Hence an annual inquiry began to be made, if\nparents brought up their children to dress consistently with their\nchristian profession. The society, however, recommended only simplicity\nand plainness to be attended to on this occasion. They prescribed no\nstandard, no form, no colour, for the apparel of their members. They\nacknowledged the two great objects of decency and comfort, and left\ntheir members to clothe themselves consistently with these, as it was\nagreeable to their convenience or their disposition.\n\nA new aera commenced from this period. Persons already in the society,\ncontinued of course in their ancient dresses: if others had come into it\nby convincement, who had led gay lives, they laid aside their gaudy\ngarments, and took those that were more plain. And the children of both,\nfrom this time, began to be habited from their youth as their parents\nwere.\n\nBut though the Quakers had thus brought apparel under the disciplinary\ncognizance of the society, yet the dress of individuals was not always\nalike, nor did it continue always one and the same even with the\nprimitive Quakers. Nor has it continued one and the same with their\ndescendants. For decency and comfort having been declared to be the true\nand only objects of dress, such a latitude was given, as to admit of\ngreat variety in apparel. Hence if we were to see a groupe of modern\nQuakers before us, we should probably not find any two of them dressed\nalike. Health, we all know, may require alteration in dress. Simplicity\nmay suggest others. Convenience again may point out others; and yet all\nthese various alterations may be consistent with the objects before\nspecified. And here it may be observed that the society, during its\nexistence for a century and a half, has without doubt, in some degree,\nimperceptibly followed the world, though not in its fashions, yet in its\nimprovements of cloathing.\n\nIt must be obvious again, that some people are of a grave, and that\nothers are of a lively disposition, and that these will probably never\ndress alike. Other members again, but particularly the rich, have a\nlarger intercourse than the rest of them, or mix more with the world.\nThese again will probably dress a little differently from others, and\nyet, regarding the two great objects of dress, their cloathing may come\nwithin the limits which these allow. Indeed if there be any, whose\napparel would be thought exceptionable by the society, these would be\nfound among the rich. Money, in all societies, generally takes the\nliberty of introducing exceptions. Nothing, however is more true, than\nthat, even among the richest of the Quakers, there is frequently as much\nplainness and simplicity in their outward dress, as among the poor; and\nwhere the exceptions exist, they are seldom carried to an extravagant,\nand never to a preposterous extent.\n\nFrom this account it will be seen, that the ideas of the world are\nerroneous on the subject of the dress of the Quakers; for it has always\nbeen imagined, that, when the early Quakers first met in religious\nunion, they met to deliberate and fix upon some standard, which should\noperate as a political institution, by which the members should be\ndistinguished by their apparel from the rest of the world. The whole\nhistory, however, of the shape and colour of the garments of the Quakers\nis, as has been related, namely, that the primitive Quakers dressed like\nthe sober, steady, and religious people of the age, in which the society\nsprung up, and that their descendants have departed less in a course of\ntime, than others, from the dress of their ancestors. The mens hats are\nnearly the same now, except that they have stays and loops, and many of\ntheir clothes are nearly of the same shape and colour, as in the days of\nGeorge Fox. The dress of the women also is nearly similar. The black\nhoods indeed have gone, in a certain degree, out of use. But many of\nsuch women, as are ministers and elders, and indeed many others of age\nand gravity of manners, still retain them. The green apron also has been\nnearly, if not wholly laid aside. There was here and there an ancient\nwoman, who used it within the last ten years, but I am told that the\nlast of these died lately. No other reasons can be given, than those\nwhich have been assigned, why Quaker-women should have been found in the\nuse of a colour, which is so unlike any other which they now use in\ntheir dress. Upon the whole, if the females were still to retain the use\nof the black hood and the green apron, and the men were to discard the\nstays and loops for their hats, we should find that persons of both\nsexes in the society, but particularly such as are antiquated, or as may\nbe deemed old fashioned in it, would approach very near to the first or\nprimitive Quakers in their appearance, both as to the sort and to the\nshape, and to the colour of their clothes. Thus has George Fox, by means\nof the advice he gave upon this subject, and the general discipline\nwhich he introduced into the society, kept up for a hundred and fifty\nyears, against the powerful attacks of the varying fashions of the\nworld, one steady, and uniform, external appearance among his\ndescendants; an event, which neither the clergy by means of their\nsermons, nor other writers, whether grave or gay, were able to\naccomplish during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and which none\nof their successors have been able to accomplish from that time to the\npresent.\n\n\nSECT III.\n\n_The world usually make objections to the Quaker-dress--the charge is\nthat there is a preciseness in it which is equivalent to the worshipping\nof forms--the truth of this charge not to be ascertained but by a\nknowledge of the heart--but outward facts mate against it-such as the\norigin of the Quaker-dress--and the Quaker-doctrine on dress--doctrine\nof christianity on this subject--opinion of the early christians upon\nit--reputed advantages of the Quaker-dress._\n\n\nI should have been glad to have dismissed the subject of the\nQuaker-dress in the last section, but so many objections are usually\nmade against it, that I thought it right to stop for a while to consider\nthem in the present place. Indeed, if I were to choose a subject, upon\nwhich the world had been more than ordinarily severe on the Quakers, I\nshould select that of their dress. Almost every body has something to\nsay upon this point. And as in almost all cases, where arguments are\nnumerous, many of them are generally frivolous, so it has happened in\nthis also. There is one, however, which it is impossible not to notice\nupon this subject.\n\nThe Quakers, it is confessed by their adversaries, are not chargeable\nwith the same sort of pride and vanity, which attach to the characters\nof other people, who dress in a gay manner, and who follow the fashions\nof the world, but it is contended, on the other hand, that they are\njustly chargeable with a preciseness, that is disgusting, in the little\nparticularities of their cloathing. This precise attention to\nparticularities is considered as little better than the worshipping of\nlifeless forms, and is usually called by the world the idolatry of the\nQuaker-dress.\n\nThis charge, if it were true, would be serious indeed. It would be\nserious, because it would take away from the religion of the Quakers one\nof its greatest and best characters. For how could any people be\nspiritually minded, who were the worshippers of lifeless forms? It would\nbe serious again, because it would shew their religion, like the box of\nPandora, to be pregnant with evils within itself. For people, who place\nreligion in particular forms, must unavoidably become superstitious. It\nwould be serious again, because if parents were to carry such notions\ninto their families, they would produce mischief. The young would be\ndissatisfied, if forced to cultivate particularities, for which they see\nno just or substantial reason. Dissentions would arise among them. Their\nmorality too would be confounded, if they were to see these minutiae\nidolized at home, but disregarded by persons of known religious\ncharacter in the world. Add to which, that they might adopt erroneous\nnotions of religion. For they might be induced to lay too much stress\nupon the payment of the anise and cummin, and too little upon the\nobservance of the weightier matters of the law.\n\nAs the charge therefore is unquestionably a serious one, I shall not\nallow it to pass without some comments. And in the first place it maybe\nobserved that, whether this preciseness, which has been imputed to some\nQuakers, amounts to an idolizing of forms, can never be positively\ndetermined, except we had the power of looking into the hearts of those,\nwho have incurred the charge. We may form, however, a reasonable\nconjecture, whether it does or not by presumptive evidence, taken from\nincontrovertible outward facts.\n\nThe first outward fact that presents itself to us, is the fact of the\norigin of the Quaker-dress, if the early Quakers, when they met in\nreligious union, had met to deliberate and fix upon a form or standard\nof apparel for the society, in vain could any person have expected to\nrepel this charge. But no such standard was ever fixed. The dress of the\nQuakers has descended from father to son in the way that has been\ndescribed. There is reason therefore to suppose, that the Quakers as a\nreligious body, have deviated less than others front the primitive\nhabits of their ancestors, rather from a fear of the effects of\nunreasonable changes of dress upon the mind, than from an attachment to\nlifeless forms.\n\nThe second outward fact, which may be resorted to as furnishing a ground\nfor reasonable conjecture, is the doctrine of the Quakers upon this\nsubject. The Quakers profess to follow christianity in all cases, where\nits doctrines can be clearly ascertained. I shall state therefore what\nchristianity says upon this point. I shall shew that what Quakerism says\nis in unison with it. And I shall explain more at large the principle,\nthat has given birth to the discipline of the Quakers relative to their\ndress.\n\nHad christianity approved of the make or colour of any particular\ngarment, it would have approved of those of its founder and of his\napostles. We do not, however, know, what any of these illustrious\npersonages wore. They were probably dressed in the habits of Judean\npeasants, and not with any marked difference from those of the same rank\nin life. And that they were dressed plainly, we have every reason to\nbelieve, from the censures, which some of them passed on the\nsuperfluities of apparel. But christianity has no where recorded these\nhabits as a pattern, nor has it prescribed to any man any form or colour\nfor his clothes.\n\nBut christianity, though it no where places religion in particular\nforms, is yet not indifferent on the general subject of dress. For in\nthe first place it discards all ornaments, as appears by the testimonies\nof St. Paul and St. Peter before quoted, and this it does evidently on\nthe ground of morality, lest these, by puffing up the creature, should\nbe made to give birth to the censurable passions of vanity and lust. In\nthe second place it forbids all unreasonable changes on the plea of\nconformity with the fashions of the world: and it sets its face against\nthese also upon moral grounds; because the following of the fashions of\nthe world begets a worldly spirit, and because, in proportion as men\nindulge this spirit, they are found to follow the loose and changeable\nmorality of the world, instead of the strict and steady morality of the\ngospel.\n\nThat the early christians understood these to be the doctrines of\nchristianity, there can be no doubt. The Presbyters and the Asceticks,\nI believe, changed the Palluim for the Toga in the infancy of the\nchristian world; but all other christians were left undistinguished by\ntheir dress. These were generally clad in the sober manner of their own\ntimes. They observed a medium between costliness and sordidness. That\nthey had no particular form for their dress beyond that of other grave\npeople, we team from Justin Martyr. \"They affected nothing fantastic,\nsays he, but, living among Greeks and barbarians, they followed the\ncustoms of the country, and in clothes, and in diet, and in all other\naffairs of outward life, they shewed the excellent and admirable\nconstitution of their discipline and conversation.\" That they discarded\nsuperfluities and ornaments we may collect from various authors of those\ntimes. Basil reduced the objects of cloathing to two, namely, \"Honesty\nand necessity,\" that is, to decency and protection. Tertullian laid it\ndown as a doctrine that a Christian should not only be chaste, but that\nhe should appear so outwardly. \"The garments which we should wear, says\nClemens of Alexandria, should be modest and frugal, and not wrought of\ndivers colours, but plain.\" Crysastum commends Olympias, a lady of birth\nand fortune, for having in her garment nothing that was wrought or\ngaudy. Jerome praises Paula, another lady of quality, for the same\nreason. We find also that an unreasonable change of cloathing, or a\nchange to please the eye of the world, was held improper. Cyril says,\n\"we should not strive for variety, having clothes for home, and others\nfor ostentation abroad.\" In short the ancient fathers frequently\ncomplained of the abuse of apparel in the ways described.\n\nExactly in the same manner, and in no other, have the Quakers considered\nthe doctrines of Christianity on the subject of dress. They have never\nadopted any particular model either as to form or colour for their\nclothes. They have regarded the two objects of decency and comfort. But\nthey have allowed of various deviations consistently with these. They\nhave in fact fluctuated in their dress. The English Quaker wore formerly\na round hat. He wears it now with stays and loops. But even this fashion\nis not universal, and seems rather now on the decline. The American\nQuaker, on the other hand, has generally kept to the round hat. Black\nhoods were uniformly worn by the Quaker-women, but the use of these is\nmuch less than it was, and is still decreasing. The Green aprons also\nwere worn by the females, but they are now wholly out of use. But these\nchanges could never have taken place, had there been any fixed standard\nfor the Quaker dress.\n\nBut though the Quakers have no particular model for their clothing, yet\nthey are not indifferent to dress where it may be morally injurious.\nThey have discarded all superfluities and ornaments, because they may\nbe hurtful to the mind. They have set their faces also against all\nunreasonable changes of forms for the same reasons. They have allowed\nother reasons to weigh with them in the latter case. They have received\nfrom, their ancestors a plain suit of apparel, which has in some little\ndegree followed the improvements of the world, and they see no good\nreason why they should change it; at least they see in the fashions of\nthe world none but a censurable reason for a change. And here it may be\nobserved, that it is not an attachment to forms, but an unreasonable\nchange or deviation from them, that the Quakers regard. Upon the latter\nidea it is, that their discipline is in a great measure founded, or, in\nother words, the Quakers, as a religious body, think it right to watch\nin their youth any unreasonable deviation from the plain apparel of the\nsociety.\n\nThis they do first, because any change beyond usefulness must be made\nupon the plea of conformity to the fashions of the world.\n\nSecondly, because any such deviation in their youth is considered to\nshew, in some measure, a deviation from simplicity of heart. It bespeaks\nthe beginning of an unstable mind. It shews there must have been some\nimproper motive for the change. Hence it argues a weakness in the\ndeviating persons, and points them out as objects to be strengthened by\nwholesome admonition.\n\nThirdly, because changes, made without reasonable motives, would lead,\nif not watched and checked, to other still greater changes, and because\nan uninterrupted succession of such changes would bring the minds of\ntheir youth under the most imperious despotisms, the despotism of\nfashion; in consequence of which they would cleave to the morality of\nthe world instead of the morality of the gospel.\n\nAnd fourthly, because in proportion as young persons deviate from the\nplainness and simplicity of the apparel as worn by the society, they\napproach in appearance to the world; they mix with it, and imbibe its\nspirit and admit its customs, and come into a situation which subjects\nthem to be disowned. And this is so generally true, that of those\npersons, whom the society has been obliged to disown, the commencement\nof a long progress in irregularity may often be traced to a deviation\nfrom the simplicity of their dress. And here it may be observed, that an\neffect has been produced by this care concerning dress, so beneficial to\nthe moral interests of the society, that they have found in it a new\nreason for new vigilance on this subject. The effect produced is a\ngeneral similarity of outward appearance, in all the members, though\nthere is a difference both in the form and colour of their clothing;\nand this general appearance is such, as to make a Quaker still known to\nthe world. The dress therefore of the Quakers, by distinguishing the\nmembers of the society, and making them known as such to the world,\nmakes the world overseers as it were of their moral conduct. And that it\noperates in this way, or that it becomes a partial check in favour of\nmorality, there can be no question. For a Quaker could not be seen\neither at public races, or at cock fightings, or at assemblies, or in\npublic houses, but the fact would be noticed as singular, and probably\nsoon known among his friends. His clothes would betray him. Neither\ncould be, if at a great distance from home, and if quite out of the eye\nand observation of persons of the same religious persuasion, do what\nmany others do. For a Quaker knows, that many of the customs of the\nsociety are known to the world at large, and that a certain conduct is\nexpected from a person in a Quakers habit. The fear therefore of being\ndetected, and at any rate of bringing infamy on his cloth, if I may use\nthe expression, would operate so as to keep him out of many of the\nvicious customs of the world.\n\nFrom hence it will be obvious that there cannot be any solid foundation\nfor the charge, which has been made against the Quakers on the subject\nof dress. They are found in their present dress, not on the principle\nof an attachment to any particular form, or because any one form is more\nsacred than another, but on the principle, that an unreasonable\ndeviation from any simple and useful clothing is both censurable and\nhurtful, if made in conformity with the fashions of the world. These two\nprinciples, though they may produce, if acted upon, a similar outward\nappearance in persons, are yet widely distinct as to their foundation,\nfrom one another. The former is the principle of idolatry. The latter\nthat of religion. If therefore there are persons in the society, who\nadopt the former, they will come within the reach of the charge\ndescribed. But the latter only can be adopted by true Quakers.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. II.\n\n_Quakers are in the use of plain furniture--this usage founded on\nprinciples, similar to those on dress--this usage general--Quakers have\nseldom paintings, prints, or portraits in their houses, as, articles of\nfurniture--reasons for their disuse of such articles._\n\n\nAs the Quakers are found in the use of garments, differing from those\nof others in their shape and fashion, and in the graveness of their\ncolour, and in the general plainness of their appearance, so they are\nfound in the use of plain and frugal furniture in their houses.\n\nThe custom of using plain furniture has not arisen from the\ncircumstance, that any particular persons in the society, estimable for\ntheir lives and characters, have set the example in their families, but\nfrom the, principles of the Quaker-constitution itself. It has arisen\nfrom principles similar to those, which dictated the continuance of the\nancient Quaker-dress. The choice of furniture, like the choice of\nclothes, is left to be adjudged by the rules of decency and usefulness,\nbut never by the suggestions of shew. The adoption of taste, instead of\nutility, in this case, would be considered as a conscious conformity\nwith the fashions of the world. Splendid furniture also would be\nconsidered as pernicious as splendid clothes. It would be classed with\nexternal ornaments, and would be reckoned equally productive of pride,\nwith these. The custom therefore of plainness in the articles of\ndomestic use is pressed upon all Quakers: and that the subject may not\nbe forgotten, it is incorporated in their religious discipline; in\nconsequence of which, it is held forth to their notice, in a public\nmanner, in all the monthly and quarterly meetings of the kingdom, and in\nall the preparative meetings, at least once in the year.\n\nIt may be admitted as a truth, that the society practice, with few\nexceptions, what is considered to be the proper usage on such occasions.\nThe poor, we know, cannot use any but homely-furniture. The middle\nclashes are universally in such habits. As to the rich, there is a\ndifference in the practice of these. Some, and indeed many of them, use\nas plain and frugal furniture, as those in moderate circumstances.\nOthers again step beyond the practice of the middle classes, and buy\nwhat is more costly, not with a view of shew, so much as to accommodate\ntheir furniture to the size and goodness of their houses. In the houses\nof others again, who have more than ordinary intercourse with the world,\nwe now and then see what is elegant, but seldom what would be considered\nto be extravagant furniture. We see no chairs with satin bottoms and\ngilded frames, no magnificent pier-glasses, no superb chandeliers, no\ncurtains with extravagant trimmings. At least, in all my intercourse\nwith the Quakers, I have never observed such things. If there are\npersons in the society, who use them, they must be few in number, and\nthese must be conscious that, by the introduction of such finery[36]\ninto their houses, they are going against the advices annually given\nthem in their meetings on this subject, and that they are therefore\nviolating the written law, as well as departing from the spirit of\nQuakerism.\n\n[Footnote 36: Turkey carpets are in use, though generally gaudy, on\naccount of their wearing better than others.]\n\nBut if these or similar principles are adopted by the society on this\nsubject, it must be obvious, that in walking through the rooms of the\nQuakers, we shall look in vain for some articles that are classed among\nthe furniture of other people. We shall often be disappointed, for\ninstance, if we expect to find either paintings or prints in frame. I\nseldom remember to have seen above three or four articles of this\ndescription in all my intercourse with the Quakers. Some families had\none of these, others a second, and others a third, but none had them\nall. And in many families neither the one nor the other was to be seen.\n\nOne of the prints, to which I allude, contained a representation of the\nconclusion of the famous treaty between William Penn and the Indians of\nAmerica. This transaction every body knows, afforded, in all its\ncircumstances, a proof to the world, of the singular honour and\nuprightness of those ancestors of the Quakers who were concerned in it.\nThe Indians too entertained an opinion no less favourable of their\ncharacter, for they handed down the memory of the event under such\n[37]impressive circumstances, that their descendants have a particular\nlove for the character, and a particular reliance on the word, of a\nQuaker at the present day. The print alluded to was therefore probably\nhung up as the pleasing record of a transaction, so highly honourable to\nthe principles of the society; where knowledge took no advantage of\nignorance, but where she associated herself with justice, that she might\npreserve the balance equal. \"This is the only treaty,\" says a celebrated\nwriter, \"between the Indians and the Christians, that was never ratified\nby an oath, and was never broken.\"\n\n[Footnote 37: The Indians denominated Penn, brother Onas, which means\nin their language a pen, and respect the Quakers as his descendants.]\n\nThe second was a print of a slave-ship, published a few years ago, when\nthe circumstances of the slave-trade became a subject of national\ninquiry. In this the oppressed Africans are represented, as stowed in\ndifferent parts according to the number transported and to the scale of\nthe dimensions of the vessel. This subject could not be indifferent to\nthose, who had exerted themselves as a body for the annihilation of this\ninhuman traffic. The print, however, was not hung up by the Quakers,\neither as a monument of what they had done themselves, or as a stimulus\nto farther exertion on the same subject, but, I believe, from the pure\nmotive of exciting benevolence; of exciting the attention of those, who\nshould come into their houses, to the case of the injured Africans, and\nof procuring sympathy in their favour.\n\nThe third contained a plan of the building of Ackworth-school. This was\nhung up as a descriptive view of a public seminary, instituted and kept\nup by the subscription and care of the society at large.\n\nBut though all the prints, that have been mentioned, were hung up in\nframes on the motives severally assigned to them, no others were to be\nseen as their companions. It is in short not the practice[38] of the\nsociety to decorate their houses in this manner.\n\n[Footnote 38: There are still individual exceptions. Some Quakers have\ncome accidentally into possession of printings and engravings in frame,\nwhich, being innocent in their subject and their lesson, they would have\nthought it superstitious to discard.]\n\nPrints in frames, if hung up promiscuously in a room, would be\nconsidered as ornamental furniture, or as furniture for shew. They would\ntherefore come under the denomination of superfluities; and the\nadmission of such, in the way that other people admit them would be\nconsidered as an adoption of the empty customs or fashions of the world.\n\nBut though the Quakers are not in the practice of hanging up prints in\nframes, yet there are amateurs among them, who have a number and variety\nof prints in their possession. But these appear chiefly in collections,\nbound together in books, or preserved in book covers, and not in frames\nas ornamental furniture for their rooms. These amateurs, however, are\nbut few in number. The Quakers have in general only a plain and useful\neducation. They are not brought up to admire such things, and they have\ntherefore in general but little taste for the fine and masterly\nproductions of the painters' art.\n\nNeither would a person, in going through the houses of the Quakers, find\nany portraits either of themselves, or of any of their families, or\nancestors, except, to the latter case, they had been taken before they\nbecame Quakers. The first Quakers never had their portraits taken with\ntheir own knowledge and consent. Considering themselves as poor and\nhelpless creatures, and little better than dust and ashes, they had but\na mean idea of their own images. They were of opinion also, that pride\nand self-conceit would be likely to arise to men from the view, and\nostentatious parade, of their own persons. They considered also, that it\nbecame them, as the founders of the society, to bear their testimony\nagainst the vain and superfluous fashions of the world. They believed\nalso, if there were those whom they loved, that the best method of\nshewing their regard to these would be not by having their fleshly\nimages before their eyes, but by preserving their best actions in their\nthoughts, as worthy of imitation; and that their own memory, in the same\nmanner, should be perpetuated rather in the loving hearts, and kept\nalive in the edifying conversation of their descendants, than in the\nperishing tablets of canvas, fixed upon the walls of their habitations.\nHence no portraits are to be seen of many of those great and eminent men\nin the society, who are now mingled with the dust.\n\nThese ideas, which thus actuated the first Quakers on this subject, are\nthose of the Quakers as a body at the present day. There may be here and\nthere an individual, who has had a portrait of some of his family taken.\nBut such instances may be considered as rare exceptions from the general\nrule. In no society is it possible to establish maxims, which shall\ninfluence an universal practice.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. III.....SECT. I.\n\n_Language--Quakers differ in their language from others--the first\nalteration made by George Fox of thou for you--this change had been\nsuggested by Erasmus and Luther--sufferings of the Quakers in\nconsequence of adapting this change--a work published in their\ndefence--this presented to King Charles and others--other works on the\nsubject by Barclay and Penn--in these the word thou shewn to be proper\nin all languages--you to be a mark of flattery--the latter idea\ncorroborated by Harwell, Maresius, Godeau, Erasmus._\n\n\nAs the Quakers are distinguishable from their fellow-citizens by their\ndress, as was amply shewn in a former chapter, so they are no less\ndistinguishable from them by the peculiarities of their language.\n\nGeorge Fox seemed to look at every custom with the eye of a reformer.\nThe language of the country, as used in his own times, struck him as\nhaving many censurable defects. Many of the expressions, then in use,\nappeared to him to contain gross flattery, others to be idolatrous,\nothers to be false representatives of the ideas they were intended to\nconvey. Now he considered that christianity required truth, and he\nbelieved therefore that he and his followers, who professed to be\nchristians in word and deed, and to follow the christian pattern in all\nthings, as far as it could be found, were called upon to depart from all\nthe censurable modes of speech, as much as they were from any of the\ncustoms of the world, which Christianity had deemed objectionable. And\nso weightily did these improprieties in his own language lie upon his\nmind, that he conceived himself to have had an especial commission to\ncorrect them.\n\nThe first alteration, which he adopted, was in the use of the pronoun\nthou. The pronoun you, which grammarians had fixed to be of the plural\nnumber, was then occasionally used, but less than it is now, in\naddressing an individual. George Fox therefore adopted thou in its place\non this occasion, leaving the word you to be used only where two or more\nindividuals were addressed.\n\nGeorge Fox however was not the first of the religious writers, who had\nnoticed the improper use of the pronoun you. Erasmus employed a treatise\nin shewing the propriety of thou when addressed to a single person, and\nin ridiculing the use of you on the same occasion. Martin Luther also\ntook great pains to expunge the word you from the station which it\noccupied, and to put thou in its place. In his Ludus, he ridicules the\nuse of the former by the, following invented sentence, \"Magister,\nVosestis iratus?\" This is as absurd, as if he had said in English\n\"gentlemen art thou angry\"?\n\nBut though George Fox was not the first to recommend the substitution of\nthou for you, he was the first to reduce this amended use of it to\npractice. This he did in his own person, wherever he went, and in all\nthe works which he published. All his followers did the same. And, from\nhis time to the present, the pronoun thou has come down so prominent in\nthe speech of the society, that a Quaker is generally known by it at the\npresent day.\n\nThe reader would hardly believe, if historical facts did not prove it,\nhow much noise the introduction or rather the amended use of this little\nparticle, as reduced to practice by George Fox, made in the world, and\nhow much ill usage it occasioned the early Quakers. Many magistrates,\nbefore whom they were carried in the early times of their institution\noccasioned their sufferings to be greater merely on this account. They\nwere often abused and beaten by others, and sometimes put in danger of\ntheir lives. It was a common question put to a Quaker in those days,\nwho addressed a great man in this new and simple manner, \"why you ill\nbred clown do you thou me?\" The rich and mighty of those times thought\nthemselves degraded by this mode of address, as reducing them from a\nplural magnitude to a singular, or individual, or simple station in\nlife. \"The use of thou, says George Fox, was a sore cut to proud flesh,\nand those who sought self-honour.\"\n\nGeorge Fox, finding that both he and his followers were thus subject to\nmuch persecution on this account, thought it right the world should\nknow, that, in using this little particle which had given so much\noffence, the Quakers were only doing what every grammarian ought to do,\nif he followed his own rules. Accordingly a Quaker-work was produced,\nwhich was written to shew that in all languages thou was the proper and\nusual form of speech to a single person, and you to more than one. This\nwas exemplified by instances, taken out of the scriptures, and out of\nbooks of teaching in about thirty languages. Two Quakers of the names of\nJohn Stubbs and Benjamin Furley, took great pains in compiling it: and\nsome additions were made to it by George Fox himself, who was then a\nprisoner in Lancaster castle.\n\nThis work, as soon as it was published, was presented to King Charles\nthe second, and to his council. Copies of it were also sent to the\nArchbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and to each of the\nuniversities. The King delivered his sentiments upon it so far as to\nsay, that thou was undoubtedly the proper language of all nations. The\nArchbishop of Canterbury, when he was asked what he thought of it, is\ndescribed to have been so much at a stand, that he could not tell what\nto say. The book was afterwards bought by many. It is said to have\nspread conviction, wherever it went. Hence it had the effect of\nlessening the prejudices of some, so that the Quakers were never\nafterwards treated, on this account, in the same rugged manner as they\nhad been before.\n\nBut though this book procured the Quakers an amelioration of treatment\non the amended use of the expression thou, there were individuals in the\nsociety, who thought they ought to put their defence on a better\nfoundation, by stating all the reasons, for there were many besides\nthose in this book, which had induced them to differ from their fellow\ncitizens on this subject. This was done both by Robert Barclay and\nWilliam Penn in works, which defended other principles of the Quakers,\nand other peculiarities in their language.\n\nOne of the arguments, by which the use of the pronoun thou was defended,\nwas the same as that, on which it had been defended by Stubbs and\nFurley, that is, its strict conformity with grammar. The translators of\nthe Bible had invariably used it. The liturgy had been compiled on the\nsame principle. All addresses made by English Christians in their\nprivate prayers to the Supreme Being, were made in the language of thou,\nand not of you. And this was done, because the rules of the English\ngrammar warranted the expression, and because any other mode of\nexpression would have been a violation of these rules.\n\nBut the great argument (to omit all others) which Penn and Barclay\ninsisted upon for the change of you, was that the pronoun thou, in\naddressing an individual, had been anciently in use, but that it had\nbeen deserted for you for no other purpose, than that of flattery to\nmen; and that this dereliction of it was growing greater and greater,\nupon the same principle, in their own times. Hence as christians, who\nwere not to puff up the fleshly creature, it became them to return to\nthe ancient and grammatical use of the pronoun thou, and to reject this\ngrowing fashion of the world. \"The word you, says William Penn, was\nfirst ascribed in the way of flattery, to proud Popes and Emperors,\nimitating the heathens vain homage to their gods, thereby ascribing a\nplural honour to a single person; as if one Pope had been made up of\nmany gods, and one Emperor of many men; for which reason you, only to be\naddressed to many, became first spoken to one. It seemed the word thou\nlooked like too lean and thin a respect; and therefore some, bigger than\nthey should be, would have a style suitable to their own ambition.\"\n\nIt will be difficult for those, who now use the word you constantly to a\nsingle person, and who, in such use of it, never attach any idea of\nflattery to it, to conceive how it ever could have had the origin\nascribed to it, or, what is more extraordinary, how men could believe\nthemselves to be exalted, when others applied to them the word you\ninstead of thou. But history affords abundant evidence of the fact.\n\nIt is well known that Caligula ordered himself to be worshipped as a\ngod. Domitian, after him, gave similar orders with respect to himself.\nIn process of time the very statues of the emperors began to be\nworshipped. One blasphemous innovation prepared the way for another. The\ntitle of Pontifex Maximus gave way at length for those of Eternity,\nDivinity, and the like. Coeval with these appellations was the change of\nthe word thou for you, and upon the same principles. These changes,\nhowever, were not so disagreeable, as they might be expected to have\nbeen, to the proud Romans; for while they gratified the pride of their\nemperors by these appellations, they made their despotism, in their own\nconceit, more tolerable to themselves. That one man should be lord ever\nmany thousand Romans, who were the masters of the world was in itself a\ndegrading thought. But they consoled themselves by the haughty\nconsideration, that they were yielding obedience, not to man, but to an\nincarnate demon or good genius, or especial envoy from heaven. They\nconsidered also the emperor as an office, and as an office, including\nand representing many other offices, and hence considering him as a man\nin the plural number, they had less objection to address him in a plural\nmanner.\n\nThe Quakers, in behalf of their assertions on this subject, quote the\nopinions of several learned men, and of those in particular, who, from\nthe nature of their respective writings, had occasion to look into the\norigin and construction of the words and expressions of language.\n\nHowell, in his epistle to the nobility of England before his French and\nEnglish Dictionary, takes notice, \"that both in France, and in other\nnations, the word thou was used in speaking of one, but by succession of\ntime, when the Roman commonwealth grew into an empire, the courtiers\nbegan to magnify the emperor, as being furnished with power to confer\ndignities and offices, using the word you, yea, and deifying him with\nmore remarkable titles, concerning which matter we read in the epistles\nof Symmachus to the emperors Theodosius and Valentinian, where he useth\nthese forms of speaking, Vestra AEternitas, vestrum numen, vestra\nserenitas, vestra Clementia, that is, your, and not thy eternity,\ngodhead, serenity, clemency. So that the word you in the plural number,\ntogether with the other titles and compellations of honour, seem to have\ntaken their rise from despotic government, which afterwards, by degrees,\ncame to be derived to private persons.\" He says also in his History of\nFrance, that \"in ancient times, the peasants addressed their kings by\nthe appellation of thou, but that pride and flattery first put inferiors\nupon paying a plural respect to the single person of every superior, and\nsuperiors upon receiving it.\"\n\nJohn Maresius, of the French Academy, in the preface to his Clovis,\nspeaks much to the same effect. \"Let none wonder, says he, that the word\nthou is used in this work to princes and princesses, for we use the same\nto God, and of old the same was used to Alexanders, Caesars, queens, and\nempresses. The use of the word you, when only base flatteries of men of\nlater ages, to whom it seemed good to use the plural number to one\nperson, that he may imagine himself alone to be equal to many others in\ndignity and worth, from whence it came at last to persons of lower\nquality.\"\n\nGodeau, in his preface to the translation of the New Testament, makes an\napology for differing from the customs of the times in the use of thou,\nand intimates that you was substituted for it, as a word of superior\nrespect. \"I had rather, says he, faithfully keep to the express words of\nPaul, than exactly follow the polished style of our tongue. Therefore I\nalways use that form of calling God in the singular number not in the\nplural, and therefore I say rather thou than you. I confess indeed, that\nthe civility and custom of this word, requires him to be honored after\nthat manner. But it is likewise on the contrary true, that the original\ntongue of the New Testament hath nothing common with such manners and\ncivility, so that not one of these many old versions we have doth\nobserve it. Let not men believe, that we give not respect enough to God,\nin that we call him by the word thou, which is nevertheless far\notherwise. For I seem to myself (may be by the effect of custom) more to\nhonor his divine majesty, in calling him after this manner, than if I\nshould call him after the manner of men, who are so delicate in their\nforms of speech.\"\n\nErasmus also in the treatise, which he wrote on the impropriety of\nsubstituting you for thou, when a person addresses an individual, states\nthat this strange substitution originated wholly in the flattery of men.\n\n\nSECT. II.\n\n_Other alterations in the language of the Quakers--they address one\nanother by the title of friends--and others by the title of friends and\nneigbours, or by their common names--the use of sir and madam\nabolished--also of master or mister--and of humble servant--also of\ntitles of honor--reasons of this abolition--example of Jesus Christ._\n\n\nAnother alteration, that took place in the language of the Quakers, was\nthe expunging of all expressions from their vocabulary, which were\neither superfluous, or of the same flattering tendency as the former.\n\nIn addressing one another, either personally or by letter, they made use\nof the word friend, to signify the bond of their own union, and the\ncharacter, which man, under the christian dispensation, was bound to\nexhibit in his dealings with his fellow-man. They addressed each other\nalso, and spoke of each other, by their real names. If a man's name was\nJohn, they called him John; they talked to him as John, and added only\nhis sir-name to distinguish him from others.\n\nIn their intercourse with the world they adopted the same mode of\nspeech: for they addressed individuals either by their plain names, or\nthey made use of the appellations of friends or neighbours.\n\nThey rejected the words sir or madam, as then in use. This they did,\nbecause they considered them like the word you, as remnants of ancient\nflattery, derived from the papal and anti-christian ages; and because\nthese words still continued to be considered as tides of flattery, that\npuffed up people in their own times. Howell, who was before quoted on\nthe pronoun thou, is usually quoted by the Quakers on this occasion\nalso. He states in his history, that \"sir and madam were originally\nnames given to none, but the king, his brother, and their wives, both in\nFrance and England. Yet now the ploughman in France is called sir and\nhis wife madam; and men of ordinary trades in England sir, and their\nwives dame, which is the legal title of a lady, and is the same as madam\nin French. So prevalent hath pride and flattery been in all ages, the\none to give, and the other to receive respect\"\n\nThe Quakers banished also the word master, or mister as it is now\npronounced, from their language, either when they spoke concerning any\none, or addressed any one by letter. To have used the word master to a\nperson, who was no master over them, would have been, they considered,\nto have indicated a needless servility, and to have given a false\npicture of their own situation, as well as of those addressed.\n\nUpon the same or similar principles they hesitated to subscribe\nthemselves as the humble or obedient servants of any one, as is now\nusual, at the bottom of their letters. \"Horrid apostacy, says Barclay,\nfor it is notorious that the use of these compliments implies not any\ndesign of service.\" This expression in particular they reprobated for\nanother reason. It was one of those, which had followed the last degree\nof impious services and expressions, which had poured in after the\nstatues of the emperors had been worshipped, after the titles of\neternity and divinity had been ushered in, and after thou had been\nexchanged for you, and it had taken a certain station, and flourished\namong these. Good christians, however, had endeavoured to keep\nthemselves clear of such inconsistencies Casaubon has preserved a letter\nof Paulinus, Bishop of Nola, in which he rebukes Sulpicius Severus for\nhaving subscribed himself \"his humble servant.\" A part of the letter\nruns thus.[39] \"Take heed hereafter, how thou, being from a servant\ncalled unto liberty, dost subscribe thyself servant to one, who is thy\nbrother and fellow servant: for it is a sinful flattery, not a testament\nof humility, to pay those honours to a man and to a sinner, which are\ndue to the one Lord, one Master, and one God.\"\n\n[Footnote 39: Paulinus flourished in the year 460. He is reported by\nPaulus Diacenus to have been an exemplary christian. Among other acts he\nis stated to have expended all his revenues in the redemption of\nchristian captives; and, at last, when he had nothing left in his purse,\nto have pawned his own person in favour of a widow's son. The\nbarbarians, says the same author, struck with this act of unparralleled\ndevotion to the cause of the unfortunate, released him, and many\nprisoners with him without ransom.]\n\nThe Quakers also banished from the use of their society all those modes\nof expression, which were considered as marks or designations of honour\namong men. Hence, in addressing any peer of the realm, they never used\nthe common formula of \"my lord,\" for though the peer in question might\njustly be the lord over many possessions, and tenants, and servants, yet\nhe was no lord over their heritages or persons. Neither did they ever\nuse the terms excellency, or grace, or honour, upon similar occasions.\nThey considered that the bestowing of these titles might bring them\nunder the necessity of uttering what might be occasionally false. \"For\nthe persons, says Barclay, obtaining these titles, either by election or\nhereditarily, may frequently be found to have nothing really in them\ndeserving them, or answering to them, as some, to whom it is said your\nexcellency may have nothing of excellency in them, and he, who is called\nyour grace, may be an enemy to grace, and he, who is called your honour,\nmay be base and ignoble.\" They considered also, that they might be\nsetting up the creature, by giving him the titles of the creator, so\nthat he might think more highly of himself than he ought, and more\ndegradingly than he ought, of the rest of the human race.\n\nBut, independently of these moral considerations, they rejected these\ntitles, because they believed, that Jesus Christ had set them an example\nby his own declarations and conduct on a certain occasion. When a person\naddressed him by the name of good master, he was rebuked as having done\nan improper thing. [40] \"Why, says our Saviour, callest thou me good?\nThere is none good but one, that is God.\" This censure they believe to\nhave been passed upon him, because Jesus Christ knew, that when he\naddressed him by this title, he addressed him, not in his divine nature\nor capacity, but only as a man.\n\n[Footnote 40: Matt. xix. 17.]\n\nBut Jesus Christ not only refused to receive such titles of distinction\nhimself in his human nature, but on another occasion exhorted his\nfollowers to shun them also. They were not to be like the Scribes and\nPharisees, who wished for high and eminent distinctions, that is, to be\ncalled Rabbi Rabbi of men; but says he, \"be[41] ye not called Rabbi, for\none is your master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren;\" and he makes\nthe desire which he discovered in the Jews, of seeking after worldly\ninstead of heavenly honours, to be one cause of their infidelity towards\nChrist,[42] for that such could not believe, as received honour from one\nanother, and sought not the honour, which cometh from God only; that is,\nthat those persons, who courted earthly honours, could not have that\nhumility of mind, that spirit that was to be of no reputation in the\nworld, which was essential to those, who wished to become the followers\nof Christ.\n\n[Footnote 41: Matt xxiii. 8.]\n\n[Footnote 42: John. v. 44.]\n\nThese considerations, both those of a moral nature, and those of the\nexample of Jesus Christ, weighed so much with the early Quakers, that\nthey made no exceptions even in favour of those of royal dignity, or of\nthe rulers of their own land. George Fox wrote several letters to great\nmen. He wrote twice to the king of Poland, three or four tunes to Oliver\nCromwell, and several times to Charles the second; but he addressed them\nin no other manner man by their plain names, or by simple titles,\nexpressive of their situations as rulers or kings.[43]\n\n[Footnote 43: The Quakers never refuse the legal titles in the\nsuperscription or direction of their letter. They would direct to the\nking, as king: to a peer according to his rank, either as a duke,\nmarquis, earl, viscount, or baron: to a clergyman, not as reverend, but\nas clerk.]\n\nThese several alterations, which took place in the language of the early\nQuakers, were adopted by their several successors, and are in force in\nthe society at the present day.\n\n\nSECT. III.\n\n_Other alterations in the language--the names of the days and months\naltered--reasons for this change--the word saint disused--various new\nphrases introduced_.\n\n\nAnother alteration, which took place in the language of the Quakers was\nthe disuse of the common names of the days of the week, and of those of\nthe months of the year.\n\nThe names of the days were considered to be of heathen origin. Sunday\nhad been so called by the Saxons, because it was the day, on which they\nsacrificed to the sun. Monday on which they sacrificed to the moon.\nTuesday to the god Tuisco. Wednesday to the god Woden. Thursday to the\ngod Thor, and so on. Now when the Quakers considered that Jehovah had\nforbidden the Israelites to make mention even of the names of other\ngods, they thought it inconsistent in Christians to continue to use the\nnames of heathen idols for the common divisions of their time, so that\nthese names must be almost always in their mouths. They thought too,\nthat they were paying a homage, in continuing the use of them, that\nbordered on idolatry. They considered also as neither Monday, nor\nTuesday, nor any other of these days, were days, in which these\nsacrifices were now offered, they were using words, which conveyed false\nnotions of things. Hence they determined upon the disuse of these words,\nand to put other names in their stead. The numerical way of naming the\ndays seemed to them to be the most rational, and the most innocent. They\ncalled therefore Sunday the first day, Monday the second, Tuesday the\nthird, and soon to Saturday, which was of course the seventh. They used\nno other names but these, either in their conversation, or in their\nletters.\n\nUpon the same principles they altered the names of the months also.\nThese, such as March and June, which had been so named by the ancient\nRomans, because they were sacred to Mars and Juno, were exploded,\nbecause they seemed in the use of them to be expressive of a kind of\nidolatrous homage. Others again were exploded, because they were not the\nrepresentatives of the truth. September, for example, means the\n[44]seventh month from the storms. It took this seventh station in the\nkalendar of Romulus, and it designated there its own station as well as\nthe reason of its name. But when it[45] lost its place in the kalendar\nby the alteration of the style in England, it lost its meaning. It\nbecame no representative of its station, nor any representative of the\ntruth. For it still continues to signify the seventh month, whereas it\nis made to represent, or to stand in the place of, the ninth. The\nQuakers therefore banished from their language the ancient names of the\nmonths, and as they thought they could not do better than they had done\nin the case of the days, they placed numerical in their stead. They\ncalled January the first month, February the second, March the third,\nand so on to December, which they called the twelfth. Thus the Quaker\nkalendar was made up by numerical distinctions, which have continued to\nthe present day.\n\n[Footnote 44: Septem ab imbribus.]\n\n[Footnote 45: This was in the year 1752, prior to this time the year\nbegan on the 25th of March: and therefore September stood in the English\nas in the Roman kalendar. The early Quakers, however, as we find by a\nminute in 1697, had then made these alterations; but when the new style\nwas introduced, they published their reasons for having done so.]\n\nAnother alteration, which took place very generally in the language of\nthe Quakers, was the rejection of the word saint, when they spoke either\nof the apostles, or of the primitive fathers. The papal authority had\ncanonized these. This they considered to be an act of idolatry, and they\nthought they should be giving a sanction to superstition, if they\ncontinued the use of such a title, either in their speech or writings.\nAfter this various other alterations took place according as individuals\namong them thought it right to expunge old expressions, and to\nsubstitute new; and these alterations were adopted by the rest, as they\nhad an opinion of those who used them, or as they felt the propriety of\ndoing it. Hence new phrases came into use, different from those which\nwere used by the world on the same occasions; and these were gradually\nspread, till they became incorporated into the language of the society.\nOf these the following examples may suffice.\n\nIt is not usual with Quakers to use the words lucky or fortunate, in the\nway in which many others do. If a Quaker had been out on a journey, and\nhad experienced a number of fine days, he would never say that he had\nbeen lucky in his weather. In the same manner if a Quaker had recovered\nfrom an indisposition, he would never say, in speaking of the\ncircumstance, that he had fortunately recovered, but he would say, that\nhe had recovered, and \"that it was a favour.\" Luck, chance, or fortune,\nare allowed by the Quakers to have no power in the settlement of human\naffairs.\n\nIt is not usual with Quakers to beg ten thousand pardons, as some of the\nworld do, for any little mistake. A Quaker generally on such an occasion\nasks a persons excuse.\n\nThe Quakers never make use of the expression \"christian name.\" This name\nis called christian by the world, because it is the name given to\nchildren in baptism, or in other words, when they are christened, or\nwhen they are initiated as christians. But the Quakers are never\nbaptised. They have no belief that water-baptism can make a christian,\nor that it is any true mark of membership with the christian church.\nHence a man's christian name is called by them his first name, because\nit is the first of the two, or of any other number of names, that may\nbelong to him.\n\nThe Quakers, on meeting a person, never say \"good morrow,\" because all\ndays are equally good. Nor in parting with a person at night, do they\nsay \"good evening,\" for a similar reason, but they make use of the\nexpression of \"farewell.\"\n\nI might proceed, till I made a little vocabulary of Quaker-expressions;\nbut this is not necessary, and it is not at all consistent with my\ndesign. I shall therefore only observe, that it is expected of Quakers,\nthat they should use the language of the society; that they should\nsubstitute thou for you; that they should discard all flattering titles\nand expressions; and that they should adopt the numerical, instead of\nthe heathen names, of the days and months. George Fox gave the example\nhimself in all these instances. Those of the society, who depart from\nthis usage, are said by the Quakers to depart from \"the plain language.\"\n\n\nSECT. IV.\n\n_Great objections by the world against the preceding alterations by the\nQuakers--first against the use of thou for you--you said to be no longer\na mark of flattery--the use of it is said to be connected often with\nfalse Grammar--Custom said to give it, like a noun of number, a singular\nas well as plural Meaning--Consideration of these objections._\n\n\nThere will be no difficulty in imagining, if the Quakers have found\nfault with the words and expressions adopted by others, and these the\ngreat majority of the world, that the world will scrutinize, and find\nfault with, those of the Quakers in return. This in fact has turned out\nto be the case.--And I know of no subject, except that of dress, where\nthe world have been more lavish of their censures, than in that before\nus.\n\nWhen the Quakers first appeared as a religious community, many\nobjections were thrown but against the peculiarities of their language.\nThese were noticed by Robert Barclay and William Penn. But, since that\ntime, other objections have been started. But as these have not been\npublished (for they remain where they have usually been, in the mouths\nof living persons) Quaker writers have not felt themselves called upon\nto attempt to answer them. These objections, however, of both\ndescriptions, I shall notice in the present place.\n\nAs the change of the pronoun thou for you was the first article, that I\nbrought forward on the subject of the language of the Quakers, I shall\nbegin with the objections, that are usually started against it.\n\n\"Singularity, it is said, should always be avoided, if it can be done\nwith a clear conscience. The Quakers might have had honest scruples\nagainst you for thou, when you was a mark of flattery. But they can have\nno reasonable scruples now, and therefore they should cease to be\nsingular, for the word you is clearly no mark of flattery at the present\nday. However improper it might once have been, it is now an innocent\nsynonime.\"\n\n\"The use again of the word thou for you, as insisted upon by the\nQuakers, leads them frequently into false grammar. 'Thee knowest,' and\nterms like these, are not unusual in Quaker mouths. Now the Quakers,\nthough they defended the word thou for you on the notion, that they\nought not to accustom their lips to flattery, defended it also\nstrenuously on the notion, that they were strictly adhering to\ngrammar-rules. But all such terms as 'thee knowest,' and others of a\nsimilar kind, must recoil upon themselves as incorrect, and as\ncensurable, even upon their own ground.\"\n\n\"The word you again may be considered as a singular, as well as a plural\nexpression. The world use it in this manner. And who are the makers of\nlanguage, but the world? Words change their meaning, as the leaves their\ncolour in autumn, and custom has always been found powerful enough to\ngive authority for a change.\"\n\nWith respect to these objections, it may be observed, that the word you\nhas certainly so far lost its meaning, as to be no longer a mark of\nflattery. The Quakers also are occasionally found in the use of the\nungrammatical expressions, that have been brought against them. And\nunquestionably, except they mean to give up the grammatical part of the\ndefence by Penn and Barclay, these ought to be done away. That you,\nhowever, is of the singular number, is not quite so clear. For while\nthou is used in the singular number in the Bible, and in the liturgy,\nand in the prayers of individuals, and while it is the language, as it\nis, of a great portion of the inhabitants of the northern part of the\nkingdom, it will be a standing monument against the usurpation and\nmutilated dominion of you.\n\n\nSECT. V.\n\n_Secondly against the words friend and neighbour, as used by the\nQuakers--Quakers also said to be wrong in their disuse of titles--for\nthe use of these is sanctioned by St. Luke and St. Paul--answer of\nBarclay to the latter assertion--this answer not generally deemed\nsatisfactory--observations upon the subject in dispute._\n\n\nThe subject, that comes next in order, will be that of the objections,\nthat are usually made against certain terms used by the Quakers, and\nagainst their disuse of titles of honour, as sanctioned by the world.\n\nOn the use of the words \"friend, and neighbour,\" it is usually observed,\nthat these are too limited in their meaning, to be always, if used\npromiscuously, representatives of the truth. If the Quakers are so nice,\nthat they will use no expression, that is not precisely true, they\nshould invent additional terms, which should express the relative\ncondition of those, with whom they converse. The word \"friend\" denotes\nesteem, and the word \"neighbour\" proximity of dwelling. But all the\npersons, to whom the Quakers address themselves, are not persons, whom\nthey love and respect, or who are the inhabitants of the same\nneighbourhood with themselves. There is, it is said, as much untruth in\ncalling a man friend, or neighbour, who is not so, as excellency, in\nwhom there may be nothing that is excellent.\n\nThe Quakers, in reply to this, would observe, that they use the word\nfriend, as significative of their own union, and, when they speak to\nothers, as significative of their Christian relation to one another. In\nthe same sense they use the word neighbour. Jesus Christ, when the\nlawyer asked him who was his neighbour, gave him a short[46] history of\nthe Samaritan, who fell among thieves; from which he suggested on\ninference, that the term neighbour was not confined to those, who lived\nnear one another, or belonged to the same sect, but that it might extend\nto those, who lived at a distance, and to the Samaritan equally with the\nJew. In the same manner he considered all men as[47] brethren. That is,\nthey were thus scripturally related to one another.\n\n[Footnote 46: Luke x. 39.]\n\n[Footnote 47: Matt, xxiii. 8.]\n\nAnother objection which has been raised against the Quakers on this\npart of the subject, is levelled against their disuse of the titles of\nhonour of the world. St. Luke, it has been said, makes use of the terms\nmost excellent, when he addresses Theophilus, and St. Paul of the words\nmost noble, when he addresses Festus. Now the teachers and promulgators\nof christianity would never have given these titles, if they had not\nbeen allowable by the gospel.\n\nAs this last argument was used in the time of Barclay, he has noticed it\nin his celebrated apology.--\"Since Luke, says he, wrote by the dictates\nof the infallible spirit of God, I think it will not be doubted but\nTheophilus did deserve it, as being really endued with that virtue; in\nwhich case we shall not condemn those, who do it by the same rule. But\nit is not proved, that Luke gave Theophilus this title, as that which\nwas inherent to him, either by his father, or by any patent Theophilus\nhad obtained from any of the princes of the earth, or that he would have\ngiven it to him, in case he had not been truly excellent; and without\nthis be proved, which never can, there can nothing hence be deduced\nagainst us. The like may be said of that of Paul to Festus, whom he\nwould not have called such, if he had not been truly noble; as indeed he\nwas, in that he suffered him to be heard in his own cause, and would not\ngive way to the fury of the Jews against him. It was not because of any\noutward title bestowed upon Festus, that he so called him, else he would\nhave given the same compilation to his predecessor Felix, who had the\nsame office, but being a covetous man we find he gives him no such\ntitle.\"\n\nThis is the answer of Barclay. It has not however been deemed quite\nsatisfactory by the world. It has been observed that one good action\nwill never give a man a right to a general title. This is undoubtedly an\nobservation of some weight. But it must be contended on the other hand,\nthat both Luke and Paul must have been apprised that the religion, they\nwere so strenuous in propagating, required every man to speak the truth.\nThey must have been apprised also, that it inculcated humility of mind.\nAnd it is probable therefore that they would never have bestowed titles\nupon men, which should have been false in their application, or\nproductive of vanity and pride. St. Luke could not be otherwise than\naware of the answer of Jesus Christ, when he rebuked the person for\ngiving him the title of good, because he was one of the evangelists,\nwho[48] recorded it, and St. Paul could not have been otherwise than\naware of it also, on account of his intimacy with St. Luke, as well as\nfrom other causes.\n\n[Footnote 48: Luke xviii, 18.]\n\nNeither has this answer been considered as satisfactory for another\nreason. It has been presumed that the expressions of excellent and of\nnoble were established titles of rank, and if an evangelist and an\napostle used them, they could not be objectionable if used by others.\nBut let us admit for a moment, that they were titles of rank. How\nhappens it that St. Paul, when he was before Festus, and not in a\njudicial capacity (for he had been reserved for Caesar's tribunal)\nshould have given him this epithet of noble; and that, when summoned\nbefore Felix, and this in a judicial capacity, he should have omitted\nit? This application of it to the one and not to the other, either\nimplies that it was no title, or, if it was a title as we have supposed,\nthat St. Paul had some reason for this partial use of it. And in this\ncase, no better reason can be given, than that suggested by Barclay. St.\nPaul knew that Festus had done his duty. He knew, on the other hand, the\nabandoned character of Felix. The latter was then living, as Josephus\nrelates, in open adultery with Drusilla, who had been married to Azis,\nand brought away from her husband by the help of Simon a Magician; and\nthis circumstance probably gave occasion to Paul to dwell upon\ntemperance, or continence as the word might be rendered, among other\nsubjects, when he made Felix tremble. But, besides this, he must have\nknown the general character of a man, of whom Tacitus complained, that\n\"his government was distinguished by[49] servility and every species of\ncruelty and lust.\"--\n\n[Footnote 49: \"Per omnem Saevitiam et Libidinem jus regium servili\ningenio exercuit.\"]\n\nIf therefore the epithet of noble was an established title for those\nRomans, who held the government of Judea, the giving of it to one, and\nthe omission of it to the other, would probably shew the discrimination\nof St. Paul as a Christian, that he had no objection to give it, where\nit could be applied with truth, but that he refused it, when it was not\napplicable to the living character.\n\nBut that the expression of excellent or of noble was any title at all,\nthere is no evidence to shew. And first, let us examine the word, which\nwas used upon this occasion. The [50]original Greek word has no meaning\nas a title in any Lexicon that I have seen. It relates both to personal\nand civil power, and in a secondary sense, to the strength and\ndisposition of the mind. It occurs but in four places in the New\nTestament. In two of these it is translated excellent and in the others\nnoble. But Gilbert Wakefield, one of our best scholars has expunged the\nword noble, and substituted excellent throughout. Indeed of all the\nmeanings of this word noble is the least proper. No judgment therefore\ncan be pronounced in favour of a title by any analysis of the word.\n\n[Footnote 50: [Greek: kralistos]]\n\nLet us now examine it as used by St. Luke. And here almost every\nconsideration makes against it, as an established title. In the first\nplace, the wisest commentators do not know who Theophilus was. It has\nbeen supposed by many learned fathers, such as Epephanius, Salvian, and\nothers, that St. Luke, in addressing his gospel to Theophilus, addressed\nit as the words, \"excellent Theophilus\" import, to every \"firm lover of\nGod,\" or, if St. Luke uses the style of [51]Athanasius, to \"every good\nChristian.\" But on a supposition that Theophilus had been a living\ncharacter, and a man in power, the use of the epithet is against it as a\ntitle of rank; because St. Luke gives it to Theophilus in the beginning\nof his gospel, and does not give it to him, when he addresses him in the\nacts. If therefore he had addressed him in this manner, because\nexcellent was his proper title, on one occasion, it would have been a\nkind of legal, and at any rate a disrespectful omission, not to have\ngiven it to him on the other. With respect to the term noble as used by\nSt. Paul to Festus, the sense of it must be determined by general as\nwell as by particular considerations. There are two circumstances, which\nat the first sight make in favour of it as a title,[52]Lysias addresses\nhis letter to the \"most excellent Felix,\" and the orator [53]Tertullus\nsays, \"we except it always and in all places most noble Felix!\" But\nthere must be some drawback from the latter circumstance, as an argument\nof weight. There is reason to suppose that this expression was used by\nTertullus, as a piece of flattery, to compass the death of Paul; for it\nis of a piece with the other expressions which he used, when he talked\nof the worthy deeds done by the providence of so detestable a wretch,\nas Felix. And it will always be an objection to noble as a legal title,\nthat St. Paul gave it to one governor, and omitted it to another, except\nhe did it for the reasons, that have been before described. To this it\nmay be added, that legal titles of eminence were not then, as at this\ntime of day, in use. Agrippa had no other, or at least Paul gave him no\nother title, than that of king. If Porcius Festus had been descended\nfrom a Patrician, or had had the statues of his ancestors, he might, on\nthese accounts, be said to have been of a noble family. But we know,\nthat nobody on this account, would have addressed him as noble in those\ndays, either by speech or letter. The first Roman, who was ever honoured\nwith a legal title, as a title of distinction, was Octavius, upon whom\nthe senate, but a few years before the birth of Paul, had conferred the\nname of Augustus. But no procurator of a province took this title.\nNeither does it appear that the circumstance gave birth to inferior\ntitles to those in inferior offices in the government. And indeed on the\ntitle \"Augustus\" it may be observed, that though it followed the\nsuccessors of Octavius, it was but sparingly used, being mostly used on\nmedals, monumental pillars, and in public acts of the state. Pliny, in\nhis letters to Trajan, though reputed an excellent prince, addressed him\nas only sir or master, and he wrote many years after the death of Paul.\nAthenagoras, in addressing his book, in times posterior to these, to the\nemperors M. Aurelius Antoninus, and L. Aurelius Commodus, addresses\nthem only by the title of \"great princes.\" In short titles were not in\nuse. They did not creep in, so as to be commonly used, till after the\nstatues of the emperors had begun to be worshipped by the military as a\nlegal and accustomary homage. The terms \"eternity and divinity\" with\nothers were then ushered in, but these were confined wholly to the\nemperors themselves. In the time of Constantine we find the title of\nillustrious. This was given to those princes, who had distinguished\nthemselves in war, but it was not continued to their descendants. In\nprocess of time, however, it became more common, and the son of every\nprince began to be called illustrious.\n\n[Footnote 51: [Greek: makarios] and [Greek: philochrisos] are\nsubstituted by Athanasius for the word christian.]\n\n[Footnote 52: Acts, xxiii, 26.]\n\n[Footnote 53: Acts, xxiv. 3.]\n\n\nSECT. VI.\n\n_Thirdly against the alteration of the names of the days and\nmonths--people, it is said do not necessarily pay homage to Idols, who\ncontinue in the use of the ancient names--if the Quaker principles also\nwere generally adopted on this subject, language would be thrown into\nconfusion--Quakers also, by attempting to steer clear of Idolatry, fall\ninto it--replies of the Quakers to these objections._\n\n\nThe next objections for consideration, which are made against the\nlanguage of the Quakers, are those which relate to their alteration of\nthe names of the days and the months. These objections are commonly\nmade, when the language of the Quakers becomes a subject of conversation\nwith the world.\n\n\"There is great absurdity, it is said, in supposing, that persons pay\nany respect to heathen idols, who retain the use of the ancient names of\nthe divisions of time. How many thousands are there, who know nothing of\ntheir origin? The common people of the country know none of the reasons,\nwhy the months, and the days are called as they are. The middle classes\nare mostly ignorant of the same. Those, who are well informed on the\nsubject, never once think, when they mention the months and days, on the\nreason of the rise of their names. Indeed the almost hourly use of\nthose names secures the oblivion of their origin. Who, when he speaks of\nWednesday and Thursday, thinks that these were the days sacred to Woden\nand Thor? but there can be no idolatry, where there is no intention to\nidolize.\"\n\n\"Great weakness, it is said again, is manifested by the Quakers, in\nquarrelling with a few words in the language, and in living at peace\nwith others, which are equally objectionable. Every reason, it is said,\nmust be a weak one, which is not universal. But if some of the reasons,\ngiven by the Quakers, were universally applied, they would throw\nlanguage into as much confusion as the builders of Babel. The word Smith\nfor example, which is the common name of many families, ought to be\nobjected to by this rule, if the person, to whom it belongs, happens to\nbe a carpenter. And the word carpenter which is likewise a family-name,\nought to be objected to, if the person so called should happen to be a\nsmith. And, in this case, men would be obliged to draw lots for numbers,\nand to be called by the numerical ticket, which they should draw.\"\n\n\"It is objected again to the Quakers, that, by attempting to steer clear\nof idolatry, they fall into it. The Quakers are considered to be genuine\nidolaters, in this case. The blind pagan imagined a moral being, either\nheavenly or infernal, to inhere in a log of wood or a block of stone.\nThe Quakers, in like manner, imagine a moral being, truth or falsehood,\nto exist in a lifeless word, and this independently of the sense in\nwhich it is spoken, and in which it is known that it will be understood.\nWhat is this, it is said, but a species of idolatry and a degrading\nsuperstition?\"\n\nThe Quakers would reply to these observations, first, that they do not\ncharge others with idolatry, in the use of these names, who know nothing\nof their origin, or who feel no impropriety in their use.\n\nSecondly, that if the principle, upon which they found their alterations\nin language, cannot, on account of existing circumstances, be followed\nin all cases, there is no reason, why it should not be followed, where\nit can. In the names of men it would be impossible to adopt it. Old\npeople are going off, and young people are coming up, and people of all\ndescriptions are themselves changing, and a change of names to suit\nevery persons condition, and qualification, would be impossible.\n\nThirdly, that they pay no more homage or obeisance to words, than the\nobeisance of truth. There is always a propriety in truth, and an\nimpropriety in falsehood. And in proportion as the names of things\naccord with their essences, qualities, properties, character, and the\nlike, they are more or less proper. September, for example, is not an\nappropriate name, if its meaning be enquired into, for the month which\nit represents: but the ninth month is, and the latter appellation will\nstand the test of the strictest enquiry.\n\nThey would say again that this, as well as the other alterations in\ntheir language has had a moral influence on the society, and has been\nproductive of moral good. In the same manner as the dress, which they\nreceived from their ancestors has operated as a guardian, or\npreservative of virtue, so has the language which they received from\nthem also. The language has made the world overseers of the conduct of\nthe society. A Quaker is known by his language as much as by his dress.\nIt operates, by discovering him, as a check upon his actions. It keeps\nhim also, like the dress distinct from others. And the Quakers believe,\nthat they can never keep up their Christian discipline, except they keep\nclear of the spirit of the world. Hence it has been considered as of\ngreat importance to keep up the plain language; and this importance has\nbeen further manifested by circumstances, that have taken place within\nthe pale of the society. For in the same manner as those, who begin to\ndepart from the simplicity of dress, are generally in the way to go off\namong the world, so are those who depart from the simplicity of the\nlanguage. Each deviation is a sign of a temper for desertion. Each\ndeviation brings them in appearance nearer to the world. But the nearer\nthey resemble the world in this respect, the more they are found to mix\nwith it. They are of course the more likely to be seduced from the\nwholesome prohibitions of the society. The language therefore of the\nQuakers has grown up insensibly as a wall of partition, which could not\nnow, it is contended, be taken away without endangering the innocence of\ntheir youth.\n\n\nSECT. VII.\n\n_Advantages and disadvantages of the system of the Quaker,\nlanguage--disadvantages are that it may lead to superstition--and\nhypocrisy--advantages are that it excludes flattery--is founded upon\ntruth--promotes truth, and correctness in the expression of\nideas--observation of Hobbes--would be the most perfect model for a\nuniversal calendar--the use or disuse of this system may either of them\nbe made useful to morality._\n\n\nI have now given to the reader the objections, that are usually made to\nthe alterations, which the Quakers have introduced into the language of\nthe country, as well as the replies, which the Quakers would make to\nthese objections. I shall solicit the continuance of his patience a\nlittle longer, or till I have made a few remarks of my own upon this\nsubject.\n\nIt certainly becomes people, who introduce great peculiarities into\ntheir system, to be careful, that they are well founded, and to consider\nhow far they may bring their minds into bondage, or what moral effects\nthey may produce on their diameter in a course of time.\n\nOn the reformed language of the Quakers it may be observed, that both\nadvantages and disadvantages may follow according to the due or undue\nestimation in which individuals may hold it.\n\nIf individuals should lay too great a stress upon language, that is, if\nthey should carry their prejudices so far against outward and lifeless\nwords, that they should not dare to pronounce them, and this as a matter\nof religion, they are certainly in the way of becoming superstitious,\nand of losing the dignified independence of their minds.\n\nIf again they should put an undue estimate upon language, so as to\nconsider it as a criterion of religious purity, they may be encouraging\nthe growth of hypocrisy within their own precincts. For if the use of\nthis reformed language be considered as an essential of religion, that\nis, if men are highly thought of in proportion as they conform to it\nrigidly, it may be a covering to many to neglect the weightier matters\nof righteousness; at least the fulfilling of such minor duties may\nshield them from the suspicion of neglecting the greater: and if they\nshould be reported as erring in the latter case, their crime would be\nless credited under their observance of these minutiae of the law.\n\nThese effects are likely to result to the society, if the peculiarities\nof their language be insisted on beyond their due bounds. But, on the\nother hand, it must be confessed, that advantages are likely to follow\nfrom the same system, which are of great importance in themselves, and\nwhich may be set off as a counterbalance to the disadvantages described.\n\nThe Quakers may say, and this with the greatest truth, \"we have never\ncringed or stooped below the dignity of men. We have never been guilty\nof base flattery; we have never been instrumental in raising the\ncreature, with whom we have conversed, above his condition, so that in\nthe imagination of his own consequence, he should lose sight of his\ndependence on the Supreme Being, or treat his fellow-men, because they\nshould happen to be below him, as worms or reptiles of the earth.\"\n\nThey may say also that the system of their language originated in the\npurest motives, and that it is founded on the sacred basis of truth.\n\nIt may be said also, that the habits of caution which the different\npeculiarities in their language have introduced and interwoven into\ntheir constitution, have taught them particularly to respect the truth,\nand to aim at it in all their expressions whether in speech or letters,\nand that it has given them a peculiar correctness in the expression of\ntheir ideas, which they would scarcely have had by means of the ordinary\neducation of the world. Hobbes says[54] \"animadverte, quam sit ab\nimproprietate verborum pronum hominibus prolabi in errores circa res,\"\nor \"how prone men are to fall into errors about things, when they use\nimproper expressions.\" The converse of this proposition may be observed\nto be true with respect to the Quakers, or it may be observed, that the\nstudy of proper expressions has given them correct conceptions of\nthings, and has had an influence in favor of truth. There are no people,\nthough the common notion may be otherwise, who speak so accurately as\nthe Quakers, or whose letters, if examined on any subject, would be so\nfree from any double meaning, so little liable to be mistaken, and so\neasy to be understood.\n\n[Footnote 54: Hobbesii Examen. et Emend. Hod. Math. P. 55. Edit.\nAmstel.]\n\nIt may be observed also on the language of the Quakers, that is, on that\npart of it, which relates to the alteration of the names of the months\nand days, that this alteration would form the most perfect model for an\nuniversal calendar of any that has yet appeared in the world. The French\nnation chose to alter their calendar, and, to make it useful to\nhusbandry, they designated their months, so that they should be\nrepresentatives of the different seasons of the year. They called them\nsnowy, and windy, and harvest, and vintage-months, and the like. But in\nso large a territory, as that of France, these new designations were not\nthe representatives of the truth. The northern and southern parts were\nnot alike in their climate. Much less could these designations speak\nthe truth for other parts of the world: whereas numerical appellations\nmight be adopted with truth, and be attended with usefulness to all the\nnations of the world, who divided their time in the same manner.\n\nOn the latter subject of the names of the days and months, the\nalteration of which is considered as the most objectionable by the\nworld, I shall only observe, that, if the Quakers have religious\nscruples concerning them, it is their duty to persevere in the disuse of\nthem. Those of the world, on the other hand, who have no such scruples,\nare under no obligation to follow their example. And in the same manner\nas the Quakers convert the disuse of these ancient terms to the\nimprovement of their moral character, so those of the world may convert\nthe use of them to a moral purpose. Man is a reasonable, and moral\nbeing, and capable of moral improvement; and this improvement may be\nmade to proceed from apparently worthless causes. If we were to find\ncrosses or other Roman-Catholic relics fixed in the walls of our places\nof worship, why should we displace them? Why should we not rather suffer\nthem to remain, to put us in mind of the necessity of thankfulness for\nthe reformation in our religion? If again we were to find an altar,\nwhich had been sacred to Moloc, but which had been turned into a\nstepping stone, to help the aged and infirm upon their horses, why\nshould we destroy it? Might it not be made useful to our morality, as\nfar as it could be made to excite sorrow for the past and gratitude for\nthe present? And in the same manner might it not be edifying to retain\nthe use of the ancient names of the days and months? Might not thankful\nfeelings be excited in our hearts, that the crime of idolatry had ceased\namong us, and that the only remnant of it was a useful signature of the\ntimes? In fact, if it be the tendency of the corrupt part of our nature\nto render innocent things vicious, it is, on the other hand, in the\nessence of our nature, to render vicious things in process of time\ninnocent; so that the remnants of idolatry and superstition may be made\nsubservient to the moral improvement of mankind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IV.\n\n_Address--all nations have used ceremonies of address--George Fox bears\nhis testimony against those in use in his own times--sufferings of the\nQuakers on this account--makes no exception in favor of royalty--his\ndispute with Judge Glynn--modern Quakers follow his example--use no\nceremonies even to majesty--various reasons for their disuse of them._\n\n\nAll nations have been in the habit of using outward gestures or\nceremonies, as marks of affection, obeisance or respect. And these\noutward ceremonies have been different from one another, so much so,\nthat those, which have been adjudged to be suitable emblems of certain\naffections or dispositions of the mind among one people, would have been\nconsidered as very improper emblems of the same, and would have been\neven thought ridiculous by another, yet all nations have supposed, that\nthey employed the most rational modes for these purposes. And indeed,\nthere were probably none of these outward gestures and ceremonies,\nwhich, in their beginning, would not have admitted of a reasonable\ndefence while they continued to convey to the minds of those, who\nadopted them, the objects, for which they were intended, or while those,\nwho used them, persevered with sincerity in their use, little or no\nobjection could be made to them by the moralist. But as soon as the ends\nof their institution were lost, or they were used without any\nappropriate feeling of the heart, they became empty civilities, and\nlittle better than mockery or grimace.\n\nThe customs of this sort, which obtained in the time of George Fox, were\nsimilar to those, which are now in use on similar occasions. People\npulled off their hats, and bowed, and scraped with their feet. And these\nthings they did, as marks of civility, friendship, or respect to one\nanother.\n\nGeorge Fox was greatly grieved about these idle ceremonies. He lamented\nthat men should degrade themselves by the use of them, and that they\nshould encourage habits, that were abhorrent of the truth. His feelings\nwere so strong upon this subject, that he felt himself called upon to\nbear his testimony against them. Accordingly he never submitted to them\nhimself, and those, who received his religious doctrines, followed his\nexample.\n\nThe omission of these ceremonies, however, procured both for him and his\nfollowers, as had been the case in the change of thou for you, much\nill-will, and harsh treatment. The Quakers were derided and abused.\nTheir hats were taken forcibly from their heads, and thrown away. They\nwere beaten and imprisoned on this sole account. And so far did the\nworld carry their resentment towards them for the omission of these\nlittle ceremonies, that they refused for some time to deal with them as\ntradesmen, or to buy things at their shops, so that some Quakers could\nhardly get money enough to buy themselves bread.\n\nGeorge Fox, however, and his associates, persevered, notwithstanding\nthis ill usage, in the disuse of all honours, either by the moving of\nthe hat, or the usual bendings of the body; and as that, which was a\nright custom for one, was a right one for another, they made no\nexception even in favour of the chief magistrate of the land. George\nFox, when he visited Oliver Cromwell as protector, never pulled off his\nhat; and it is remarkable that the protector was not angry with him for\nit.\n\nNeither did he pull off his hat to the judges at any time,\nnotwithstanding he was so often brought before them. Controversies\nsometimes took place between him and them in the public court, upon\nthese occasions, one of which I shall notice, as it marks the manner of\nconducting the jurisprudence of those times.\n\nWhen George Fox, and two other friends, were brought out of Launceston\ngaol, to be tried before judge Glynn, who was then chief justice of\nEngland, they came into court with their hats on. The judge asked them\nthe reason of this, but they said nothing. He then told them, that the\ncourt commanded them to pull off their hats. Upon this George Fox\naddressed them in the following manner. \"Where, says he, did ever any\nmagistrate, king or judge, from Moses to Daniel, command any to put off\ntheir hats, when they came before them in their courts, either amongst\nthe Jews, who were God's people, or among the heathen? And if the law of\nEngland doth command any such thing, shew me that law, either written or\nprinted.\" Judge Glynn upon this grew angry, and replied, that \"he did\nnot carry his law-books upon his back.\" But says George Fox, \"tell me\nwhere it is printed in any statute-book, that I may read it\" The judge,\nin a vulgar manner, ordered him away, and he was accordingly taken away,\nand put among thieves. The judge, however, in a short time afterwards\nordered him up again, and, on his return put to him the following\nquestion, \"Come, says he, where had they hats from Moses to Daniel?\nCome, answer me. I have you fast now.\" George. Fox replied, that \"he\nmight read in the third chapter of Daniel, that the three children were\ncast into the fiery furnace by Nebuchadnezzar's command, with their\ncoats, their hose, and their hats on.\" The repetition of this apposite\ntext stopped the judge from any farther comments on the custom, and he\nordered him and his companions to be taken away again. And they were\naccordingly taken away and they were thrust again among thieves. In\nprocess of time, however, this custom of the Quakers began to be known\namong the judges, who so far respected their scruples, as to take care\nthat their hats should be taken off in future in the courts.\n\nThese omissions of the ceremonies of the world, as begun by the\nprimitive Quakers, are continued by the modern. They neither bow nor\nscrape, nor pull off their hats to any, by way of civility or respect,\nand they carry their principles, like their predecessors, so far, that\nthey observe none of these exterior parts of politeness even in the\npresence of royalty. The Quakers are in the habit on particular\noccasions of sending deputies to the king. And it is remarkable that his\npresent majesty always sees them himself, if he be well, and not by\nproxy. Notwithstanding this, no one in the deputation ever pulls off his\nhat. Those, however, who are in waiting in the anti-chamber, knowing\nthis custom of the Quakers, take their hats from their heads, before\nthey enter the room, where the king is. On entering the room, they\nneither bow nor scrape, nor kneel, and as this ceremony cannot be\nperformed for them by others, they go into the royal presence in a less\nservile, or more dignified manner, than either the representatives of\nsovereigns, or those, who have humbled nations by the achievement of\ngreat victories.\n\nThe ground, upon which the Quakers decline the use of the ordinary\nceremonies just mentioned, is, the honours are the honours of the world.\nNow, as that these of the world, they consider them as objectionable on\nseveral accounts.\n\nFirst, they are no more the criterions of obeisance and respect, than\nmourning garments are the criterions of sorrow. But Christianity is\nnever satisfied but with the truth. It forbids all false appearances. It\nallows no image to be held out, that is not a faithful picture of its\noriginal, or no action to be resorted to, that is not correspondent with\nthe feelings of the heart.\n\nIn the second place the Quakers presume, that, as honours of the world,\nall such ceremonies are generally of a complimentary nature. No one bows\nto a poor man. But almost every one to the rich, and the rich to one\nanother. Hence bowing is as much a species of flattery through the\nmedium of the body, as the giving of undeserved titles through the\nmedium of the tongue.\n\nAs honours of the world again the Quakers think them censurable, because\nall such honours were censured by Jesus Christ. On the occasion, on\nwhich he exhorted his followers not to be like the Scribes and\nPharisees, and to seek flattering titles, so as to be called Rabbi Rabbi\nof man, he exhorted them to avoid all ceremonious salutations, such as\ngreetings in the market-places. He couples the two different customs of\nflattering titles and salutations in the same sentence, and mentions\nthem in the same breath. And though the word \"greetings\" does not\nperhaps precisely mean those bowings and scrapings, which are used at\nthe present day, yet it means, both according to its derivation and the\nnature of the Jewish customs, those outward personal actions or\ngestures, which were used as complimentary to the Jewish world.\n\nWith respect to the pulling off the hat the Quakers have an additional\nobjection to this custom, quite distinct from the objections, that have\nbeen mentioned above. Every minister in the Quaker society takes off his\nhat, either when he preaches, or when he prays. St Paul[55] enjoins this\ncustom. But if they take off their hats, that is, uncover their heads,\nas an outward act enjoined in the service of God, they cannot with any\npropriety take them off, or uncover their heads to men, because they\nwould be giving to the creature the same outward honour which they give\nto the creator. And in this custom they conceive the world to be\npeculiarly inconsistent. For men go into their churches, and into their\nmeetings, and pull off their hats, or uncover their heads, for the same\nreason as the Quaker-ministers when they pray (for no other reason can\nbe assigned) and, when they come out of their respective places of\nworship, they uncover them again on every trivial occasion, to those\nwhom they meet, using to man the same outward mark of homage, as they\nhad just given to God.\n\n[Footnote 55: 1 Cor. Chap. xi.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. V.\n\n_Manners and conversation--Quakers esteemed reserved--this an\nappearance owing to their education--their hospitality in their own\nhouses--the freedom allowed and taken--their conversation\nlimited--politics generally excluded--subjects of conversation examined\nin our towns--also in the metropolis--no such subjects among the\nQuakers--their conversation more dignified--extraordinary circumstance\nthat takes place occasionally in the company of the Quakers._\n\n\nThe Quakers are generally supposed to be a stiff and reserved people,\nand to be a people of severe and uncourteous manners. I confess there is\nsomething in their appearance that will justify the supposition in the\neyes of strangers, and of such as do not know them: I mean of such, as\njust see them occasionally out of doors, but do not mix with them in\ntheir own houses.\n\nIt cannot be expected that persons, educated like the Quakers, should\nassimilate much in their manners to other people. The very dress they\nwear, which is so different from that of others, would give them a stiff\nappearance in the eyes of the world, if nothing else could be found to\ncontribute towards it. Excluded also from much intercourse with the\nworld, and separated at a vast distance from it by the singularity of\nmany of their customs, they would naturally appear to others to be close\nand reserved. Neither is it to be expected that those, whose spirits\nare never animated by music, or enlivened by the exhibitions of the\ntheatre, or the diversions which others follow, would have other than\ncountenances that were grave. Their discipline also, which calls them so\nfrequently to important duties, and the dispatch of serious business,\nwould produce the same feature. I may observe also, that a peculiarity\nof gait, which might be mistaken for awkwardness, might not unreasonably\nbe expected in those, who had neither learned to walk under the guidance\nof a dancing, master, nor to bow under the direction of the dominion of\nfashion. If those and those only are to be esteemed really polished and\ncourteous, who bow and scrape, and salute each other by certain\nprescribed gestures, then the Quakers will appear to have contracted\nmuch rust, and to have an indisputable right to the title of a clownish\nand inflexible people.\n\nI must observe however that these appearances, though they may be\nsubstantial in the estimation of those who do not know them, gradually\nvanish with those, who do. Their hospitality in their own houses, and\ntheir great attention and kindness, soon force out of sight all ideas of\nuncourteousness. Their freedom also soon annihilates those of stiffness\nand reserve. Their manners, though they have not the polished surface of\nthose which are usually attached to fashionable life, are agreeable,\nwhen known.\n\nThere is one trait in the Quaker-manners, which runs through the whole\nsociety, as far as I have seen in their houses, and which is worthy of\nmention. The Quakers appear to be particularly gratified, when those,\nwho visit them, ask for what they want. Instead of considering this as\nrudeness or intrusion, they esteem it as a favour done them. The\ncircumstance of asking, on such an occasion, is to them a proof, that\nthere visitors feel themselves at home. Indeed they almost always desire\na stranger who has been introduced to them \"to be free.\" This is their\nusual expression. And if he assures them that he will, and if they find\nhim asking for what he wishes to have, you may perceive in their\ncountenances the pleasure, which his conduct has given them. They\nconsider him, when he has used this freedom, to have acted as they\nexpress it \"kindly.\" Nothing can be more truly polite than that conduct\nto another, by which he shall be induced to feel himself as comfortably\nsituated, as if he were in his own house.\n\nAs the Quakers desire their visitors to be free, and to do as they\nplease, so they do not fail to do the same themselves, never regarding\nsuch visitors as impediments in the way of their concerns. If they have\nany business or engagement out of doors, they say so and go, using no\nceremony, and but few words as an apology. Their visitors, I mean such\nas stay for a time in their houses, are left in the interim to amuse\nthemselves as they please. This is peculiarly agreeable, because their\nfriends know, when they visit them, that they neither restrain, nor\nshackle, nor put them to inconvenience. In fact it may be truly said\nthat if satisfaction in visiting depends upon a man's own freedom to do\nas he likes, to ask and to call for what he wants, to go out and come in\nas he pleases; and if it depends also on the knowledge he has, that, in\ndoing all these things, he puts no person out of his way, there are no\nhouses, where people will be better pleased with their treatment, than\nin those of the Quakers.\n\nThis trait in the character of the Quakers is very general. I would not\npretend, however, to call it universal. But it is quite general enough\nto be pronounced a feature in their domestic character. I do not mean by\nthe mention of it, to apologize, in any manner for the ruggedness of\nmanners of some Quakers. There are undoubtedly solitary families, which\nhaving lived in places, where there have been scarcely any of their own\nsociety with whom to associate, and which, having scarcely mixed with\nothers of other denominations except in the way of trade, have an\nuncourteousness, ingrafted in them as it were by these circumstances,\nwhich no change of situation afterwards has been able to obliterate.\n\nThe subjects of conversation among the Quakers differ, like those of\nothers, but they are not so numerous, neither are they of the same kind,\nas those of other people.\n\nThe Quaker conversation is cramped or fettered for two reasons, first by\nthe caution, that prevails among the members of the society relative to\nthe use of idle words, and secondly by the caution, that prevails among\nthem, relative to the adapting of their expressions to the truth. Hence\nthe primitive Quakers were persons of few words.\n\nThe subjects also of the Quaker conversation are limited for several\nreasons. The Quakers have not the same classical or philosophical\neducation, as those of other denominations in an equal situation in\nlife. This circumstance will of course exclude many topics from their\ndiscourse.\n\nReligious considerations also exclude others. Politics, which generally\nengross a good deal of attention, and which afford an inexhaustible fund\nof matter for conversation to a great part of the inhabitants of the\nisland, are seldom introduced, and, if introduced, very tenderly\nhandled in general among the Quaker-society. I have seen aged Quakers\ngently reprove others of tenderer years, with whom they happened to be\nin company, for having started them. It is not that the Quakers have not\nthe same feelings as other men, or that they are not equally interested\nabout humanity, or that they are incapable of opinions on the changeable\npolitical events, that are passing over the face of the globe, that this\nsubject is so little agitated among them. They are usually silent upon\nit for particular reasons. They consider first, that, as they are not\nallowed to have any direction, and in many cases could not\nconscientiously interfere, in government-matters, it would be folly to\ndisquiet their minds with vain and fruitless speculations. They consider\nagain, that political subjects frequently irritate people, and make them\nwarm. Now this is a temper, which they consider to be peculiarly\ndetrimental to their religion. They consider themselves also in this\nlife as but upon a journey to another, and that they should get through\nit as quietly and as inoffensively as they can. They believe again with\nGeorge Fox, that, \"in these lower regions, or in this airy life, all\nnews is uncertain. There is nothing stable. But in the higher regions,\nor in the kingdom of Christ, all things are stable: and the news is\nalways good and certain.\" [56]\n\n[Footnote 56: There is always an exception in favour of conversation on\npolitics, which is, when the government are agitating any question,\ntheir interests or their religious freedom is involved.]\n\nAs politics do not afford matter for much conversation in the\nQuaker-society, so neither do some other subjects, that may be\nmentioned.\n\nIn a country town, where people daily visit, it is not uncommon to\nobserve, whether at the card, or at the tea-table, that what is usually\ncalled scandal forms a part of the pleasures of conversation. The\nhatching up of suspicions on the accidental occurrence of trivial\ncircumstances, the blowing up of these suspicions into substances and\nforms, animadversions on character, these, and such like themes, wear\nout a great part of the time of an afternoon or an evening visit. Such\nsubjects, however, cannot enter where Quakers converse with one another.\nTo avoid tale-bearing and detraction is a lesson inculcated into them in\nearly youth. The maxim is incorporated into their religion, and of\ncourse follows them through life. It is contained in one of their\nqueries. This query is read to them in their meetings, and the subject\nof it is therefore repeatedly brought to their notice and recollection.\nAdd to which, that, if a Quaker were to repeat any unfounded scandal,\nthat operated to the injury of another's character, and were not to give\nup the author, or make satisfaction for the same, he would be liable,\nby the rules of the society, to be disowned.\n\nI do not mean to assert here, that a Quaker never says a harsh thing of\nanother man. All, who profess to be, are not Quakers. Subjects of a\nscandalous nature may be in introduced by others of another\ndenomination, in which, if Quakers are present, they may unguardedly\njoin. But it is certainly true, that Quakers are more upon their guard,\nwith respect to scandalizing others, than many other people. Nor is this\nunlikely to be the case, when we consider that caution in this\nparticular is required of them by the laws of their religion. It is\ncertainly true also, that such subjects are never introduced by them,\nlike those at country tea-tables, for the sole purpose of producing\nconversation. And I believe I may add with truth, that it would even be\ndeemed extraordinary by the society, if such subjects were introduced by\nthem at all.\n\nIn companies also in the metropolis, as well as in country towns, a\nvariety of subjects affords food for conversation which never enter into\nthe discourse of the Quakers.\n\nIf we were to go into the company of persons of a certain class in the\nmetropolis, we should find them deriving the enjoyments of conversation\nfrom some such subjects as the following. One of the company would\nprobably talk of the exquisitely fine manner, in which an actress\nperformed her part on a certain night. This, would immediately give\nbirth to a variety of remarks. The name of one actress would bring up\nthat of another, and the name of one play that of another, till at\nlength the stage would become the source of supplying a subject for a\nconsiderable time. Another would probably ask, as soon as this\ntheatrical discussion was over, the opinion of the company on the\nsubject of the duel, which the morning papers had reported to have taken\nplace. This new subject would give new fuel to the fire, and new\ndiscussions would take place, and new observations fly about from all\nquarters. Some would applaud the courage of the person, who had been\nkilled. Others would pity his hard fate. But none would censure his\nwickedness for having resorted to such dreadful means for the\ndetermination of his dispute. From this time the laws of honour would be\ncanvassed, and disquisitions about punctilio, and etiquette, and honour,\nwould arrest the attention of the company, and supply them with\nmaterials for a time. These subjects would be followed by observations\non fashionable head-dresses, by the relation of elopements, by the\nreports of affairs of gallantry. Each subject would occupy its own\nportion of time. Thus each would help to swell up the measure of\nconversation, and to make up the enjoyment of the visit.\n\nIf we were to go among persons of another class in the metropolis, we\nshould probably find them collecting their entertainment from other\ntopics. One would talk on the subject of some splendid route. He would\nexpatiate on the number of rooms that were opened, on the superb manner,\nin which they were fitted up, and on the sum of money that was expended\nin procuring every delicacy that was out of season. A second would\nprobably ask, if it were really known, how much one of their female\nacquaintance had lost at faro. A third would make observations on the\ndresses at the last drawing room. A fourth would particularize the\nliveries brought out by individuals on the birth-day. A fifth would ask,\nwho was to have the vacant red ribbon. Another would tell, how the\nminister had given a certain place to a certain nobleman's third son,\nand would observe, that the whole family were now provided for by\ngovernment. Each of these topics would be enlarged upon, as successively\nstarted, and thus conversation would be kept going during the time of\nthe visit.\n\nThese and other subjects generally constitute the pleasures of\nconversation among certain classes of persons. But among the Quakers,\nthey can hardly ever intrude themselves at all. Places and pensions they\nneither do, nor can, hold. Levees and drawing rooms they neither do, nor\nwould consent to, attend, on pleasure. Red ribbons they would not wear\nif given to them. Indeed, very few of the society know what these\ninsignia mean. As to splendid liveries, these would never occupy their\nattention. Liveries for servants, though not expressly forbidden, are\nnot congenial with the Quaker-system; and as to gaming, plays, or\nfashionable amusements, these are forbidden, as I have amply stated\nbefore, by the laws of the society.\n\nIt is obvious then, that these topics cannot easily enter into\nconversation, where Quakers are. Indeed, nothing so trifling,\nridiculous, or disgusting, occupies their minds. The subjects, that\ntake up their attention, are of a more solid and useful kind. There is a\ndignity, in general, in the Quaker-conversation, arising from the nature\nof these subjects, and from the gravity and decorum with which it is\nalways conducted. It is not to be inferred from hence, that their\nconversation is dull and gloomy. There is often no want of\nsprightliness, wit, and humour. But then this sprightliness, never\nborders upon folly, for all foolish jesting is to be avoided, and it is\nalways decorous. When vivacity makes its appearance among the Quakers;\nit is sensible, and it is uniformly in an innocent and decent dress.\n\nIn the company of the Quakers a circumstance sometimes occurs, of so\npeculiar a nature, that it cannot be well omitted in this place. It\nsometimes happens, that you observe a pause in the conversation. This\npause continues. Surprized at the universal silence now prevailing, you\nlook round, and find all the Quakers in the room apparently thoughtful.\nThe history of the circumstance is this. In the course of the\nconversation the mind of some one of the persons present has been so\novercome with the weight or importance of it, or so overcome by inward\nsuggestions or other subjects, as to have given himself up to\nmeditation, or to passive obedience to the impressions upon his mind.\nThis person is soon discovered by the rest on account of his particular\nsilence and gravity. From this moment the Quakers in company cease to\nconverse. They become habitually silent, and continue so, both old and\nyoung, to give the apparently meditating person an opportunity of\npursuing uninterruptedly the train of his own thoughts. Perhaps, in the\ncourse of his meditations, the subject, that impressed his mind,\ngradually dies away, and expires in silence. In this case you find him\nresuming his natural position, and returning to conversation with the\ncompany as before. It sometimes happens, however, that, in the midst of\nhis meditations, he feels an impulse to communicate to those present the\nsubject of his thoughts, and breaks forth, seriously explaining,\nexhorting, and advising, as the nature of it permits and suggests. When\nhe has finished his observations, the company remain silent for a short\ntime, after which they converse again as before.\n\nSuch a pause, whenever it occurs in the company of the Quakers, may be\nconsidered as a devotional act. For the subject, which occasions it, is\nalways of a serious or religious nature. The workings in the mind of the\nmeditating person are considered either as the offspring of a solemn\nreflection upon that subject, suddenly and almost involuntarily as it\nwere produced by duty, or as the immediate offspring of the agency of\nthe spirit. And an habitual silence is as much the consequence, as if\nthe person present had been at a place of worship.\n\nIt may be observed, however, that such pauses seldom or never occur in\nordinary companies, or where Quakers ordinarily visit one another. When\nthey take place, it is mostly when a minister is present, and when such\na minister is upon a religious visit to families of a certain district.\nIn such a case such religious pauses and exhortations are not\nunfrequent. A man however may be a hundred times in the company of the\nQuakers, and never be present at one of them, and never know indeed that\nthey exist at all.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VI.\n\n_Custom before meals--ancients formerly made an oblation to Vesta before\ntheir meals--Christians have substituted grace--Quakers agree with\nothers in the necessity of grace or thankfulness-but do not adopt it as\na devotional act, unless it comes from the heart--allow a silent pause\nfor religious impressions on these occasions--observations on a Scotch\ngrace._\n\n\nThere was a time in the early ages of Greece, when men apparently little\nbetter than beasts of prey, could not meet at entertainments, without\nquarrelling about the victuals before them. The memory of this\ncircumstance is well preserved in the expressions of early writers. In\nprocess of time however, regulations began to be introduced, and\nquarrels to be prevented, by the institution of the office of a divider\nor distributer of the feast, who should carve the food into equal\nportions, and help every individual to his proper share. Hence the terms\n[Greek: Aatfrn] or equal feast, which so frequently occur in Homer, and\nwhich were in use in consequence of the division just mentioned, were\nmade use of to shew, that the feasts, then spoken of by him, were\ndifferent from those of former times. When Homer wishes to describe\npersons as more civilized than others, he describes them as having this\nequal feast. That is, men did not appear at these feasts, like dogs and\nwolves, and instantly devour whatever they could come at, and tear each\nother to pieces in the end; but they waited till their different\nportions of meat had been assigned them, and then ate them in amity and\npeace.\n\nAt the time when we find the custom of one man carving for all his\nguests to have been in use, we find also that another had been\nintroduced among the same people. The Greeks, in the heroic ages,\nthought it unlawful to eat, till they had first offered a part of their\nprovision to the gods. Hence oblations to Vesta, and afterwards to\nothers, whom their superstition had defied, came into general use, so\nthat these were always made, before the victuals on the table were\nallowed to be tasted by any of the guests.\n\nThese two customs, since that time, have come regularly down to the\npresent day. Every person helps his family and his friends at his own\ntable. But as Christians can make no sacrifices to heathen deities, we\nusually find them substituting thanksgiving for oblation, and giving to\nthe Creator of the universe instead of an offering of the first fruits\nfrom their tables, an offering of gratitude from their hearts.\n\nThis oblation, which is now usually denominated grace, consists of a\nform of words, which, being expressive either of praise or thankfulness\nto God for the blessings of food, with which he continues to supply\nthem, is repeated by the master of the family, or by a minister of the\ngospel if present, before any one partakes of the victuals, that are set\nbefore him. These forms, however, differ, as used by Christians. They\ndiffer in length, in ideas, in expression. One Christian uses one form,\nanother uses another. It may however be observed, that the same\nChristian generally uses the same form of words, or the same grace, on\nthe same occasion.\n\nThe Quakers, as a religious body, agree in the propriety of grace before\ntheir meals, that is in the propriety of giving thanks to the author of\nevery good gift for this particular bounty of his providence as to the\narticles of their daily subsistence, but they differ as to the manner\nand seasonableness of it on such occasions. They think that people who\nare in the habit of repeating a determined form of words, may cease to\nfeel, as they pronounce them, in which case the grace becomes an\noblation from the tongue, but not from the heart. They think also that,\nif grace is to be repeated regularly, just as the victuals come, or as\nregularly and as often as they come upon the table, it may be repeated\nunseasonably, that is unseasonably with the state of the heart of him,\nwho is to pronounce it; that the heart of man is not to-day as it was\nyesterday, nor at this hour what it was at a former, nor on any given\nhour alike disposed; and that if this grace is to be said when the heart\nis gay, or light, or volatile, it ceases to be a devotional act, and\nbecomes at least a superflous and unmeaning, if not a censurable form.\n\nThe Quakers then to avoid the unprofitableness of such artificial\ngraces on the one hand, and, on the other, to give an opportunity to the\nheart to accord with the tongue, whenever it is used in praise of the\nCreator, observe the following custom. When they are all seated at\ntable, they sit in solemn silence, and in a thoughtful position, for\nsome time. If the master of the family, during this silence, should feel\nany religious impression on his mind, whether of praise or thankfulness\non the occasion, he gives utterance to his feelings. Such praise or\nthanksgiving in him is considered as a devotional act, and as the Quaker\ngrace. But if, after having waited in silence for some time, he feels no\nsuch religious disposition, he utters no religious expression. The\nQuakers hold it better to say no grace, than to say that, which is not\naccompanied by the devotion of the heart. In this case he resumes his\nnatural position, breaks the silence by means of natural discourse, and\nbegins to carve for his family or his friends.\n\nThis is the ordinary way of proceeding in Quaker families, when alone,\nor in ordinary company. But if a minister happens to be at the table,\nthe master of the family, conceiving such a man to be more in the habit\nof religious impressions than himself, or any ordinary person, looks up\nas it were to him, as to a channel, from whence it is possible, that\nsuch religious exercise may come. If the minister, during the solemn,\nsilent pause, is impressed, he gives utterance as before: if not, he\nrelieves himself from his grave and thoughtful position, and breaks the\nsilence of the company by engaging in natural discourse. After this the\ncompany proceed to their meals.\n\nIf I were to be asked whether the graces of the Quakers were frequent, I\nshould reply in the negative. I never heard any delivered, but when a\nminister was present. The ordinary grace therefore of private families\nconsists in a solemn, silent, pause, between the time of sitting down to\nthe table and the note of carving the victuals, during which an\nopportunity is given for the excitement of religious feelings. A person\nmay dine fifty times at the tables of the Quakers, and see no other\nsubstitution for grace than this temporary silent pause.\n\nIndeed no other grace than this can be consistent with\nQuaker-principles. It was coeval with the institution of the society,\nand must continue while it lasts. For thanksgiving is an act of\ndevotion. Now no act, in the opinion of the Quakers, can be devotional\nor spiritual, except it originate from above. Men, in religious matters\ncan do nothing of themselves, or without the divine aid. And they must\ntherefore wait in silence for this spiritual help, as well in the case\nof grace, as in the case of any other kind of devotion, if they mean\ntheir praise or thanksgiving on such occasions to be an act of religion.\n\nThere is in the Quaker-grace, and its accompaniments, whenever it is\nuttered, an apparent beauty and an apparent solemnity, which are seldom\nconspicuous in those of others. How few are there, who repeat the common\nartificial graces feelingly, and with minds intent upon the subject!\nGrace is usually said as a mere ceremony or custom. The Supreme Being is\njust thanked in so many words, while the thoughts are often rambling to\nother subjects. The Quaker-grace, on the other hand, whenever it is\nuttered; does not come out in any mechanical form of words which men\nhave used before, but in expressions adapted to the feelings. It comes\nforth also warm from the heart. It comes after a solemn, silent, pause,\nand it becomes therefore, under all these circumstances, an act of real\nsolemnity and genuine devotion.\n\nIt is astonishing how little even men of acknowledged piety seem to have\ntheir minds fixed upon the ideas contained in the mechanical graces they\nrepeat. I was one afternoon at a friends house, where there happened to\nbe a clergyman of the Scottish church. He was a man deservedly esteemed\nfor his piety. The company was large. Politics had been discussed some\ntime, when the tea-things were introduced. While the bread and butter\nwere bringing in, the clergyman, who had taken an active part in the\ndiscussion, put a question to a gentleman, who was sitting in a corner\nof the room. The gentleman began to reply, and was proceeding in his\nanswer, when of a sudden I heard a solemn voice. Being surprised, I\nlooked round, and found it was the clergyman, who had suddenly started\nup, and was saying grace. The solemnity, with which he spoke, occasioned\nhis voice to differ so much from its ordinary tone, that I did not, till\nI had looked about me, discover who the speaker was. I think he might be\nengaged from three or four minutes in the delivery of this grace. I\ncould not help thinking, during the delivery of it, that I never knew\nany person say grace like this man. Nor was I ever so much moved with\nany grace, or thought I ever saw so dearly the propriety of saying\ngrace, as on this occasion. But when I found that on the very instant\nthe grace was over politics were resumed; when I found that, no sooner\nhad the last word in the grace been pronounced, than the next, which\ncame from the clergyman himself, began by desiring the gentleman before\nmentioned to go on with his reply to his own political question, I was\nso struck with the inconsistency of the thing, that the beauty and\nsolemnity of his grace all vanished. This sudden transition from\npolitics to grace, and from grace to politics, afforded a proof that\nartificial sentences might be so frequently repeated, as to fail to\nre-excite their first impressions, or that certain expressions, which\nmight have constituted devotional acts under devotional feeling, might\nrelapse into heartless forms.\n\nI should not wish, by the relation of this anecdote, to be understood as\nreflecting in the slightest manner on the practice of the Scottish\nchurch. I know well the general sobriety, diligence, piety and religious\nexample of its ministers. I mentioned it merely to shew, that even where\nthe religious character of a person was high, his mind, by the frequent\nrepetition of the same forms of expression on the same occasions, might\nfrequently lose sight of the meaning and force of the words as they were\nuttered, so that he might pronounce them without that spiritual feeling,\nwhich can alone constitute a religious exercise.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VII.\n\n_Customs at and after meals--Quakers never drink healths at dinner--nor\ntoasts after dinner--the drinking of toasts a heathen custom--interrupts\noften the innocence--and leads to the intoxication of the company--anecdote\nof Judge Hale--Quakers sometimes in embarrassing situations on account of\nthis omission--Quaker-women seldom retire after dinner, and leave the men\ndrinking--Quakers a sober people._\n\n\nThe Quakers though they are occasionally found in the custom of saying\ngrace, do not, as I have stated, either use it as regularly, or in the\nsame manner as other christians.\n\nNeither do they at their meals, or after their meals, use the same\nceremonies as others. They have exploded the unmeaning and troublesome\ncustom of drinking healths at their dinners.\n\nThis custom the Quakers have rejected upon the principle, that it has no\nconnection with true civility. They consider it as officious,\ntroublesome, and even embarrassing, on some occasions. To drink to a\nman, when he is lifting his victuals to his mouth, and by calling off\nhis attention, to make him drop them, or to interrupt two people, who\nare eating and talking together, and to break the thread of their\ndiscourse, seems to be an action, as rude in its principle, as\ndisagreeable in its effects, nor is the custom often less troublesome to\nthe person drinking the health, than to the person whose health is\ndrank. If a man finds two people engaged in conversation he must wait\ntill he catches their eyes, before he can drink himself. A man may also\noften be put into a delicate and difficult situation, to know whom to\ndrink to first, and whom second, and may be troubled, lest, by drinking\nimproperly to one before another, he may either be reputed awkward, or\nmay become the occasion of offence. They consider also the custom of\ndrinking healths at dinner as unnecessary, and as tending to no useful\nend. It must be obvious that a man may wish another his health, full as\nmuch without drinking it, as by drinking it with his glass in his hand.\nAnd it must be equally obvious that wishes, expressed in this manner,\ncan have no medicinal effect.\n\nWith respect to the custom of drinking healths at dinner, I may observe\nthat the innovation, which the Quakers seem to have been the first to\nhave made upon the practice of it, has been adopted by many, not out of\ncompliance with their example, but on account of the trouble and\ninconveniences attending it; that the custom is not now so general as it\nwas; that in the higher and more fashionable circles it has nearly been\nexploded; and that, among some of the other classes of society, it is\ngradually declining.\n\nWith respect to the custom of drinking toasts after dinner, the Quakers\nhave rejected it for various reasons.\n\nThey have rejected it first, because, however desirable it may be that\nChristians should follow the best customs of the heathens, it would be a\nreproach to them to follow the worst. Or, in other words, it would be\nimproper for men, whose religion required spirituality of thought and\nfeeling, to imitate the heathens in the manner of their enjoyment of\nsensual pleasures. The laws and customs of drinking, the Quakers\nobserve, are all of heathen origin. The similitude between these and\nthose of modern tunes is too remarkable to be overlooked; and too\nstriking not to warrant them in concluding, that christens have taken\ntheir model on this subject from Pagan practice.\n\nIn every Grecian family, where company was invited, the master of it was\nconsidered to be the king or president of the feast, in his own house.\nHe was usually denominated the eye of the company. It was one of his\noffices to look about and to see that his guests drank their proper\nportions of the wine. It was another to keep peace and harmony among\nthem. For these purposes his word was law. At entertainments at the\npublic expence the same office existed, but the person, then appointed\nto it, was nominated either by lot, or by the votes of the persons\npresent.--This custom obtains among the moderns. The master of every\nfamily at the present day presides at his own table for the same\npurposes. And at great and public dinners at taverns, a similar officer\nis appointed, who is generally chosen by the committee, who first meet\nfor the proposal of the feast.\n\nOne of the first toasts, that were usually drank among the ancient\nGreeks, was to the \"gods.\" This entirely corresponds with the modern\nidea of church; and if the government had been only coupled with the\ngods in these ancient times, it would have precisely answered to the\nmodern toast of church and state.\n\nIt was also usual at the entertainments, given by Grecian families, to\ndrink the prosperity of those persons, for whom they entertained a\nfriendship, but who happened to be absent. No toast can better coincide\nthan this, with that, which is so frequently given, of our absent\nfriends.\n\nIt was also a Grecian practice for each of the guests to name his\nparticular friend, and sometimes also his particular mistress. The\nmoderns have also a parallel for this. Every person gives (to use the\ncommon phrase) his gentleman, and his lady, in his turn.\n\nIt is well known to have been the usage of the ancient Greeks, at their\nentertainments, either to fill or to have had their cups filled for them\nto the brim. The moderns do precisely the same thing. Glasses so\nfilled, have the particular name of bumpers: and however vigilantly an\nancient Greek might have looked after his guests, and made them drink\ntheir glasses filled in this manner, the presidents of modern times are\nequally vigilant in enforcing adherence to the same custom.\n\nIt was an ancient practice also with the same people to drink three\nglasses when the graces, and nine when the muses were named: and three\nand three times three were drank on particular occasions. This barbarous\npractice has fortunately not come down to the moderns to its full\nextent, but they have retained the remembrance of it, and celebrated it\nin part, by following up their toasts, on any extraordinary occasion,\nnot with three or nine glasses of wine, but with three or nine cheers.\n\nAmong the ancients beforementioned, if any of the persons present were\nfound deficient in drinking their proper portions, they were ordered by\nthe president either to drink them or to leave the room. This usage has\nbeen a little altered by the moderns. They do not order those persons to\nleave the company, who do not comply with the same rules of drinking as\nthe rest, but they subject them to be fined, as it is termed, that is,\nthey oblige them to drink double portions for their deficiency, or\npunish them in some other manner.\n\nFrom hence it will be obvious that the laws of drinking are of heathen\norigin; that is, the custom of drinking toasts originated, as the\nQuakers contend, with men of heathen minds and affections for a sensual\npurpose; and it is therefore a custom, they believe; which men of\nchristian minds and affections should never follow.\n\nThe Quakers have rejected the custom again, because they consider it to\nbe inconsistent with their christian character in other respects. They\nconsider it as morally injurious; for toasts frequently excite and\npromote indelicate ideas, and thus sometimes interrupt the innocence of\nconversation.\n\nThey consider it as morally injurious again, because the drinking of\ntoasts has a direct tendency to promote drunkenness.\n\nThey, who have been much in company, must have had repeated\nopportunities of witnessing, that this idea of the Quakers is founded in\ntruth, men are undoubtedly stimulated to drink more than they like, and\nto become intoxicated in consequence of the use of toasts. If a man has\nno objection to drink toasts at all, he must drink that which the master\nof the house proposes, and it is usual in this case to fill a bumper.\nRespect to his host is considered as demanding this. Thus one full glass\nis secured to him at the outset. He must also drink a bumper to the\nking, another to church and state, and another to the army and navy. He\nwould, in many companies, be thought hostile to government, if, in the\nhabit of drinking toasts, he were to refuse to drink these, or to honour\nthese in the same manner. Thus three additional glasses are entailed\nupon him. He must also drink a bumper to his own toast. He would be\nthought to dishonour the person, whose health he had given, if he were\nto fail in this. Thus a fifth glass is added to his share. He must fill\na little besides to every other toast, or he is considered as deficient\nin respect to the person, who has proposed it. Thus many additional\nglasses are forced upon him. By this time the wine begins to act, when\nnew toasts, of a new nature assail his ear, and he is stimulated to new\npotions. There are many toasts of so patriotic, and others of so\ngenerous and convivial a nature that a man is looked upon as\ndisaffected, or as devoid of sentiment, who refuses them. Add to this,\nthat there is a sort of shame, which the young and generous in\nparticular feel in being outdone, and in not keeping pace with the rest,\non such occasions. Thus toast being urged after toast, and shame acting\nupon shame, a variety of causes conspires at the same moment to drive\nhim on, till the liquor at length overcomes him and he falls eventually\na victim to its power.\n\nIt will be manifest from this account that the laws of drinking, by\nwhich the necessity of drinking a certain number of toasts is enjoined,\nby which bumpers are attached to certain classes of toasts, by which a\nstigma is affixed to a non-compliance with the terms, by which in fact a\nregular system of etiquette is established, cannot but lead, except a\nman is uncommonly resolute or particularly on his guard, to\nintoxication. We see indeed instances of men drinking glass after glass,\nbecause stimulated in this manner, even against their own inclination,\nnay even against the determination they had made before they went into\ncompany, till they have made themselves quite drunk. But had there been\nno laws of drinking, or no toasts, we cannot see any reason why the same\npersons should not have returned sober to their respective homes.\n\nIt is recorded of the great Sir Matthew Hale, who is deservedly placed\namong the great men of our country, that in his early youth he had been\nin company, where the party had drunk to such excess, that one of them\nfell down apparently dead. Quitting the room, he implored forgiveness of\nthe Almighty for this excessive intemperance in himself and his\ncompanions, and made a vow, that he would never drink another health\nwhile he lived. This vow he kept to his dying day. It is hardly\nnecessary for me to remark that he would never have come to such a\nresolution, if he had not believed, either that the drinking of toasts\nhad produced the excesses of that day, or that the custom led so\nnaturally to intoxication, that it became his duty to suppress it.\n\nThe Quakers having rejected the use of toasts upon the principles\nassigned, are sometimes placed in a difficult situation, in which there\nis an occasion for the trial of their courage, in consequence of mixing\nwith others, by whom the custom is still followed.\n\nIn companies, to which they are invited in regular families, they are\nseldom put to any disagreeable dilemma in this respect. The master of\nthe house, if in the habit of giving toasts, generally knowing the\ncustom of the Quakers in this instance, passes over any Quaker who may\nbe present, and calls upon his next neighbour for a toast. Good breeding\nand hospitality demand that such indulgence and exception should be\ngiven.\n\nThere are situations, however, in which their courage is often tried.\nOne of the worst in which a a Quaker can be placed, and in which he is\nfrequently placed, is that of being at a common room in an inn, where a\nnumber of other travellers dine and sup together. In such companies\nthings are seldom conducted so much to his satisfaction in this respect,\nas in those described. In general as the bottle passes, some jocose hint\nis conveyed to him about the toast; and though this is perhaps done with\ngood humour, his feelings are wounded by it. At other times when the\ncompany are of a less liberal complexion, there is a determination, soon\nunderstood among one another, to hunt him down, as if he were fair game.\nA toast is pressed upon him, though all know that it is not his custom\nto drink it. On refusing, they begin to teaze him. One jokes with him.\nAnother banters him. Toasts both illiberal and indelicate, are at length\nintroduced; and he has no alternative but that of bearing the banter, or\nquitting the room. I have seen a Quaker in such a company (and at such a\ndistance from home, that the transaction in all probability never could\nhave been known, had he, in order to free himself from their attacks,\nconformed to their custom) bearing all their raillery with astonishing\nfirmness, and courageously struggling against the stream. It is\ncertainly an awkward thing for a solitary Quaker to fall in such\ncompanies, and it requires considerable courage to preserve singularity\nin the midst of the prejudices of ignorant and illiberal men.\n\nThis custom, however, of drinking toasts after dinner, is, like the\nformer of drinking healths at dinner, happily declining. It is much to\nthe credit of those, who move in the higher circles, that they have\ngenerally exploded both. It may be probably owing to this circumstance,\nthat though we find persons of this description labouring under the\nimputation of levity and dissipation, we yet find them respectable for\nthe sobriety of their lives. Drunkenness indeed forms no part of their\ncharacter, nor, generally speaking, is it a vice of the present age as\nit has been of former ages; and there seems to be little doubt, that in\nproportion as the custom of drinking healths and toasts, but more\nparticularly the latter, is suppressed, this vice will become less a\ntrait in the national character.\n\nThere are one or two customs of the Quakers, which I shall notice before\nI conclude this chapter.\n\nIt is one of the fashions of the world, where people meet in company,\nfor men and women, when the dinner is over, to drink their wine\ntogether, and for the women, having done this for a short time, to\nretire. This custom of the females withdrawing after dinner was probably\nfirst insisted upon from an idea, that their presence would be a\nrestraint upon the circulation of the bottle, as well as upon the\nconversation of the men. The Quakers, however, seldom submit to this\npractice. Men and women generally sit together and converse as before\ndinner. I do not mean by this that women may not retire if they please,\nbecause there is no restraint upon any one in the company of the\nQuakers; nor do I mean to say, that women do not occasionally retire,\nand leave the men at their wine. There are a few rich families, which,\nhaving mixed more than usual with the world, allow of this separation.\nBut where one allows it, there are ninety-nine, who give wine to their\ncompany after dinner, who do not. It is not a Quaker-custom, that in a\ngiven time after dinner, the one should be separated from the other sex.\n\nIt is a pity that the practice of the Quakers should not have been\nadopted by others of our own country in this particular. Many advantages\nwould result to those, who were to follow the example. For if women were\nallowed to remain, chastity of expression and decorum of behaviour would\nbe more likely to be insured. There presence also would operate as a\ncheck upon drunkenness. Nor can there be a doubt, that women would\nenliven and give a variety to conversation; and, as they have had a\ndifferent education from men, that an opportunity of mutual improvement\nmight be afforded by the continuance of the two in the society of one\nanother.\n\nIt is also usual with the world in such companies, that the men, when\nthe females have retired, should continue drinking till tea-time. This\ncustom is unknown to the Quakers, even to those few Quakers, who allow\nof a separation of the sexes. It is not unusual with them to propose a\nwalk before tea, if the weather permit. But even in the case where they\nremain at the table, their time is spent rather in conversing than in\ndrinking. They have no toasts, as I have observed, which should induce\nthem to put the bottle round in a given time, or which should oblige\nthem to take a certain number of glasses. The bottle, however, is\nusually put round, and each helps himself as he pleases. At length one\nof the guests, having had sufficient, declines filling his glass.\nAnother, in a little time, declines also for the same cause. A third,\nafter having taken what he thinks sufficient, follows the example. The\nwine is soon afterwards taken away, and this mostly long before the hour\nof drinking tea. Neither drunkenness, nor any situation approaching to\ndrunkenness, is known in the Quaker companies. Excess in drinking is\nstrictly forbidden by the laws of the society. It is a subject of one of\ntheir queries. It is of course a subject that is often brought to their\nrecollection. Whatever may be the faults of the Quakers, they must be\nacknowledged to be a SOBER PEOPLE.\n\nEND OF THE FIRST VOLUME.","title":"A Portraiture of Quakerism, Volume 1: Taken from a View of the Education and Discipline, Social Manners, Civil and Political Economy, Religious Principles and Character, of the Society of Friends","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":77930}